Page 100 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll understand when you’re older. What’s this I hear about a breakfast kerfuffle?”
Houston gives the wall another glance and then sighs, weariness settling in his shoulders again. “Nothing.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Practice was interesting today.”
Okay, either he is finally hitting a point in life where he willingly jumps into vulnerable topics, or he’s trying to change the subject away from Darcy. Or maybe it’s both.
I glance at his left arm, which he holds stiffly at his side. He hasn’t played a game in a week, so this can’t be post-game stiffness. “You’re injured more than what you’ve told me,” I guess.
His jaw tightens. “Solano won’t let me throw for at least a week, maybe more. The guys are going to start to talk.”
He hasn’t even told his team about his arm going out? I take a step closer. “Houston.”
He sinks onto his couch, dropping his face into his hands and looking like his world is crashing down around him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jordan.”
When I hear the pain in his voice, my stomach twists until I feel sick. Now is not the time to shake up his life even more, when he’s already in danger of losing the one thing in his life he loves more than anything. I have every intention of building something with Brooklyn, but it might have to wait.
I hate that. I don’t know if Brooklyn will agree with me, but what else can we do?
“Whatever happens,” I tell Houston, “I’ve got your back. You know I do.”
He gives me a strained smile that holds so much emotion. He’s barely holding it together, and he’s going to need a solid support system over the next couple of weeks as he figures out his future. I hope that future includes Brooklyn and me together, but we’re going to have to take this one day at a time and hope for the best.
For tonight, I need to be there for my best friend.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Brooklyn
October 22
Jordan doesn’t come over Mondaynight. He texts to tell me something came up, but when I ask if he needs anything, he doesn’t respond. He’s probably busy with work or his family, so I tell myself not to think too hard about it.
I don’t do a very good job.
Tuesday I wake with the beginnings of a migraine. I take some meds to ease the sting and hope it doesn’t get worse, and then I head to school.
Students bring their own balloons today, filling the school with helium voices until Principal Cheng announces that any balloons will be confiscated upon entering a classroom. I tell my kids that if they can accurately tell me why helium affects the vocal cords, they’re allowed to answer with a helium voice, and I’m impressed by how many of them remember our gas lesson.
By the time I get home on Tuesday, I’m tempted to ask Houston if he’s willing to reschedule our movie night. But it’s been so long since I’ve seen my brother, and I’ve already had to wait all weekend. Granted, it was a pretty great weekend, but that doesn’t make me miss Houston any less. Especially because Jordan has been able to spend so much time with him while I haven’t even seen him.
After a dinner of cereal and soda, I curl up on the couch and search for something to watch while I wait. Before I can settle on anything, my phone starts ringing. Apparently I managed to take it off of vibrate because it blares “Immigrant Song” at full volume and scares the willies out of me.
Scrambling to grab it from underneath me, I immediately relax when I see that it’s Jordan calling. I hadn’t even noticed how tense I was.
“Hi,” I breathe into the phone. “How are you?” And could I sound more breathless? Probably not. When did my ringtone even change?
Jordan is quiet for a second. “Did I scare you?”
I can hear the laughter in his voice, which sparks a blush. “No! Yes.” I almost add,I miss you,but I don’t want to seem too clingy. It’s only been a day and a half since he came to help set up Mark’s birthday surprise, and I don’t want to come across as needy.
Jordan, on the other hand… “Man, I’ve missed you, Queens. Twenty-four hours is too long to go without you.”
My heart settles in my chest, beating far more steadily now that I know he wasn’t ignoring me on purpose. “I’ve missed you too. And it was twenty-eight hours.”
He chuckles. “Not that you’re counting or anything.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, though I feel a little silly asking it when I have no idea what actually came up last night. “I mean, with the stuff you had to do yesterday?”
