Page 66 of A Play For The Heart
The moment I can, I say goodbye and hang up the phone. I lean my head back on the couch and take a deep breath, trying to regulate my heartbeat. My phone dings and I look down, hoping it's Sawyer.
Dad:Forgot to tell you.
Your Mom and I will be
at the game on Sunday.
The simmering, low level of anxiety I had surrounding the game and the playoffs immediately spikes, settling at a mid-level panic. I type out a response, knowing he will be upset if I don’t respond.
Me:Alright.
I don’t have the mental capacity to reply with anything else. I throw my phone to the other side of the couch, grab the remote, and turn on the T.V. As I sit on the couch watching crappy reality shows, I spend the rest of the afternoon counting down the minutes until Sawyer is off work.
The moment I walk into Sawyer’s apartment, a weight lifts off my chest. Breathing is an easier task, and the anxiety for the upcoming game is a thought deep in the back of my mind rather than the focus.
Part of me wonders if it’s too soon to tell her I love her. Every time I see her, I’m afraid the words are going to pop out of my mouth. It’s a real fear. It almost happened. Twice. On one hand, if I told her, then I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally spilling the beans. On the other hand, I worry that if I say those three little words, she’ll freak out. Rightfully so. We’ve only been officially dating for a month. I may have been in love with her for years, but she hasn’t been. The last thing I want to do is scare her with a declaration of love.
I slip my shoes off by the door and walk deeper into the apartment. I follow the chatter in the living room. Maren must be home and hanging out in there. At first, I was unsure about Maren, especially after her showdowns with Jack. She scared me a bit, I’ll admit it. I couldn’t get a read on her and it was unsettling. After book club, she slowly grew on me. She’s funny as hell and it cracks me up how easily Jack can get under her skin. Most of all, she’s a great friend to Sawyer. I don’t doubt for a second that Maren would go to war for Sawyer, which is exactly what she deserves in a friend. Anyone who treats Sawyer like that is on my good side.
I waltz into the living room, unprepared for the scene before me. Both Sawyer and Maren are sprawled out on the couch, snacks surrounding them, watching some sort of sitcom. They both register my arrival at the same time.
“Henry!” they yell in unison.
I sit down between the two of them on the couch. Maren playfully shoves me with her foot as I lean over and place a chaste kiss on Sawyer's lips. She smiles at me, and not being able to help myself, I kiss her again, feeling her smile against my lips.
“Alright, lovebirds.” Maren groans. Her foot shoves me again and I swat it away. She jams it back in my direction and I grab her ankle, yanking her in my direction. “Unhand me, you heathen!” She slaps at my hand, trying to pry my fingers off her ankle.
“Don’t mess with me Maren,” I say, tickling the bottom of her foot.
“Uncle! Uncle! Jeez, you win,” she whines, flailing around. I can hear Sawyer snorting behind me as she laughs, her breaths ragged. I release Maren’s ankle and she immediately pulls her foot back.
I chuckle at her. She acts like she didn’t spend weeks scheming for us to tell each other how we feel. She’s insane but I do owe a part of this working out to her scheming. I lean back, resting my arm behind Sawyer and pulling her into my side. She moves, getting comfortable, and leans her head on my shoulder.
“How was your day?” Sawyer’s face is flushed with laughter and her green eyes glimmer. She pokes my side as I wink at the Maren in response to her glaring.
“Good. Long,” Sawyer responds. “Excited for the weekend.”
I turn and look at Maren, waiting for her response.
“Eh. Fine.” The sour look on her face suggests that her day was not fine. I don’t want to press, since it doesn’t seem like she wants to talk about it, but Sawyer has other plans.
“Lies. She had a horrible day at work. Her coworkers are assholes.”
Maren shoots daggers at Sawyer, but she holds her ground against a very intimidating Maren. I would be cowering if I were Sawyer, but apparently, she’s immune to whatever look Maren is giving her.
“They were assholes, yes. It doesn’t impact my job, it'sfine.”
Maren effectively shuts down the conversation, snatching a bag of goldfish off the coffee table and turning back towards the T.V. I look down at Sawyer, who looks resigned. The energy shifted dramatically from a simple question. Not sure how it happened, but not my business, and it surely doesn’t look like this is the first time the conversation came up. Sawyer and I settle in and watch the show for a while when her phone rings. Picking it up from the coffee table, I recognize the photo on the screen.
“I can talk to them in my room if you want,” she offers.
“It’s fine, I’ll say hi,” Sawyer answers the Facetime call from her parents.
“Sawyer!” They both scream through the phone screen. She cringes at how loud they are while turning the volume down. Maren chuckles from her corner of the couch, shoveling down the crackers.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” She smiles at them, excited they’re calling. “I’m with Maren and Henry.”
She turns the camera around and shows both Maren and me to her parents. Maren waves and then goes back to watching her show, leaving Sawyer and me to talk to her parents.
