Page 26 of Rocking the Receiver
“Hello, Gunner,” I supply after the shock of seeing him off the football field subsides. My eyes are locked on his. “You bet we are! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” It’s not really a TED Talk, more like sharing his experience with hopeful players like us. “Tim, this is Logan Foster.” I introduce my clueless brother to him.
“They all call me Gunner,” he tells Tim while shaking his hand. “Your brother’s a gifted player, but he also puts in a ton of hard work.” My heart swells with pride, and I shoot him a wide smile at the compliment, hoping my wayward emotions aren’t written all over my face. “Gotta split. See you next week then, Elliot.” Then he pats my friend’s shoulder. “You too, Chris!” With that, he exits the bar.
Holy shit! Did that really happen?
This impromptu encounter actually gives me reason not to drink: I’ll have to prove my worth all over again next year and plan to train hard in the offseason. Davis is the biggest loudmouth around, always spouting off rude remarks. He might not mean harm, but his words are just plain obnoxious. He and his friend Jones really fuck up our spirit by not being team players.
My mind drifts to Rupert. I can’t believe that my virginity remains intact, though I wouldn’t dare remind Rupert that I blame him for spurring my losing streak by leaving me sexually frustrated. He has much bigger issues to deal with at the moment. I’ve Googled info on comas, and I frankly don’t see a happy ending in the near future. My helplessness is killing me softly.
“Anyway, as I was saying before your daydreaming, it’s great I got to see you play. I planned to stop in New York to see Rupert first, but he never returned my calls, so I decided to stay here longer.” A shiver runs down my spine at Tim’s words, and I school my features into my best poker face. It’s the first time he’s mentioned his friend. “He did say he was about to go on tour or something, but I think he said he canceled it…” He trails off as if realizing he’s been talking to himself rather than to us. “I’m sorry.” His eyes bore into mine. “You remember him, right?”
My mouth goes dry. I take it back; I could use a beer for this conversation! Instead, I snatch my glass of water, chug half of it, and cut a piece of my sandwich, averting my gaze.
As if on cue, my phone chimes, and I don’t need to look at the screen to know who’s calling. I’m always the one calling; my face falls. “I’ve got to take this.” I bolt out of the booth and head towards the front for some privacy.
From afar, I hear Tim ask, “Is everything okay?” I’m already shaking my head out of reflex, even if I have my back to him.
Once I’m outside, I mindlessly wander towards my car, welcoming the light breeze; Texas weather suits me. I can’t help but purse my lips as I press the answer button, my butt resting against the driver’s side. I don’t have time to speak.
“Sally’s dead.” A heavy breath echoes on the other end of the line. His voice is devoid of emotion. My heart stops for a second. I want to tell him how sorry I am for his loss, but somehow, I feel that voicing this would prompt him to hang up on me. “Her parents came in from Toronto. They decided that life-support wasn’t an option after the doctors told us she was brain-dead. Not sure how soon it happened after the carjacking. Nathan was with her at the time. He was admitted to the same hospital.” He already told me about Nathan and what happened to him, but I don’t interrupt. “They had to perform surgery on him. He couldn’t stand on his own two feet to check on her, so it took the doctors some time to reveal her condition to him.” He pauses. “I can’t believe she’s dead… for real.” Only now do I notice a tinge of grief in his voice. He makes a throaty noise. “Isn’t it odd that you’re the first person I called? Not my mom, not your?—”
Before he breaks our pact by mentioning Tim, I speak up, in a firm tone. “I’ll hop on the first plane and meet you wherever you need me.”
My offer is met with long silence interrupted only by pained breathing until he eventually replies in a muttered voice, “Thank you, Elliot. I know your schedule doesn’t allow much freedom.” Studying for finals doesn’t help either. “I’m flying to Canada with Nathan to attend her… funeral.” He pauses, then clears his throat. “Do you think there’s a chance you could meet me back in New York this weekend? All expenses paid, obviously.”
“I’ll meet you at the airport when you get back, if that’s okay.” Since when do I ask for permission? I guess the situation dictates it. “Text me your flight information.” As much as I wanted to argue that I’d much rather join him in Canada, it doesn’t make sense. It’s not like I’d crash a private ceremony to stand by a man who isn’t even mine to begin with. I remindmyself that there’s no label for what we are; we’re much more than friends, and I wish for more benefits, but he matters, and that’s all that matters. At once, the entirety of the situation registers, and I add, “Nathan won’t be with you, right?”
“I don’t know… Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. I need you.” He trails off, sighs, and delivers in a strangled voice, “I—” There’s another, much longer pause. I give him the time he needs. He doesn’t mind if Nathan reads between the lines, and I’m grateful for it. Just like I don’t mind that I’m being rude to my brother and my teammate. “I… I don’t think I can handle staying in Chelsea ever again. Sally and I have been roommates for too long. I’d see her in every corner, you know… her ghost haunts the place.” He coughs. “Can’t do it.” His voice is pained, and my heart lurches.
I ache to hug him and comfort him. But I don’t express my needs. At this moment, his are more important. “You don’t have to. Where are you now?” I swallow my annoyance at the distance between us, especially when he says he’s at the hospital. “You know what? I’ll find a hotel for us to stay at while I’m there. That’ll give you some time to decide on your next step. Would that work for you?”
“You have no idea…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but also kind of does. “Thank you for being there for me. I’ll text you my flight info ASAP.”
“That’s okay. Of course, I’m here for you.” I open my mouth to tell him ‘That’s what friends are for,’ but decide against it. I’m through pretending we’re friends. “Call whenever you need, okay? Day or night, I’ll do my best.” But I’ve never lost anyone dear to me, unlike Tim. He lost a parent and Rupert knows it. However, Rupert chose to reach out tome. I’m not sure what tomake of this sudden realization. I shrug, as if he could see me. “I’m here for you, okay?” I repeat.
He murmurs something I don’t get, but right before hanging up, concludes,
“See you.”
CHAPTER 13
SMILE
Rupert
“I’ll grab our duffels.”Nathan elegantly glides out of his seat and effortlessly unlatches the overhead compartment.
I watch him. Others do too, stopping in their tracks rather than drag their carry-ons—and themselves—off the plane. The corner of my lips quirks up. I inwardly grin.
Before this trip, I never paid attention to the effect that my friend has on people. Strangers, no matter their gender, often do a double take. His insane confidence. His cocky attitude. His outstanding beauty. But Sally’s attraction to him was of another nature, and after spending four days joined at the hip, I can understand the appeal. He’s respectful, caring, and a good listener. The funny thing is that he says the same about me.
“We better get moving.” He hands me my spanking new leather bag that he bought me for this unfortunate trip; it’s identical to his black one except that mine is a caramel color that he claims matches my hair.
Riiight…
I do appreciate the gift, though. In return, I wrote a song about the intensely heartbreaking experience we shared. Days filled with bottomless grief and tears that show in the dark circles under our eyes.
“I would have suggested hitting a diner for a late dinner, but I have plans.” I shrug. “Sorry.”
