Page 138 of Call the Shots
“The journals under my bed. The ones in the cardboard box.”
“You don’t want to keep your journals?”
“They’re my old calorie-counting journals.”
“Fuck,” slipped out of me.
“Sorry.”
“No. It’s fine,” I hurried to say. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about the right stuff, but I don’t know how to talk like that yet so let’s just say what we want.”
“I’m really sorry about this,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
I ran my thumb along the rim of my glass. “If I hadn't found you, it would’ve ruined a lot more than my night.”
The waitress appeared with the Texan Rodeo Round-up, the appetizer sampler meant for a party of eight. Pretzel bites, wings, celery, fries, tortilla chips, quesadillas, stacked onion rings, tons of different dips, along with a salad and a bowl of fruit. June’s eyes shot wide as the waitress slipped the platter to the table.
“Bear, I—I can’t eat all of this, I’ll throw-up?—”
“You don’t have to eat everything,” I assured her, waiting for the waitress to leave. “I figured if I’d been avoiding food for a while, I’d want a variety. And we can bring the leftovers back. Trust me, I’m a hockey player, I’ll finish this.” June couldn’t hide her shock as I dug an onion ring through honey mustard. “Fuck, it’s hot—careful with the onion rings.”
June just stared while I passed her a small plate.
“Do you throw-up?” I winced. “Sorry, that’s not your thing, right?”
“No. I don’t even count calories anymore or—um—do any of the other stuff I used to. It’s like a bad habit. Itisa bad habit.” Gingerly, she pulled the plate closer. “I drink a lot at events, I think that’s part of it.” June shook her head. “This is weird.”
“Good kind of weird?”
“No. Bad kind of weird.”
“I’m not an expert—I don’t know anything about eating disorders—but I’m pretty sure talking about it is a positive thing? I don’t know.” I picked up another onion ring with a shrug. “It can’t be good to hold it inside.”
“You’re so…calm.”
“Well, you’re sick, so now we have to get you better.”
She watched me, puzzled. “How are you so optimistic?”
“Because you’re you.” I caught her eyes again. “It’s so easy to root for you, June. You want to go to law school, I know you’ll graduate. If you wanted your house at any cost, you could’ve gotten it, you just don’t want to embarrass your dad.” I took a bite of the onion ring. “You said the Gladiators would become an actual team and—this is fucking crazy—I believe you now. I can’t think of anything you couldn’t do.”
My phone rang, and I swore under my breath, ready to ignore Vernon’s call.
Shit.
“Is it one of the Gladiators?” June asked.
“No—uh—” I scanned the restaurant. I didn’t want to leave and accidentally break the conversation. “It’s my cousins.”
“Baby cousins? Is it yourZoo Cultivationtime?”
Reluctantly, I nodded. “I forgot to text them…”
“You can take the call, Bear.”
I shot another look at the door. I’d never skipped a gaming session before and if I messaged now, they’d keep calling until I answered.
“Thirty seconds, tops,” I promised, pulling up the video call.
