Page 94 of Shutout
“Okay,” I say, my voice barely a thread. “I’ll tell her everything.”
I’ll tell Liv that I’m going to the pros and that I love her, but that I don’t expect anything from her other than what we are. I can be honest with her—I have to—even if it destroys me.
“Good luck, kid.”
Nodding, I pick my bag up and after murmuring my thanks, I step out of her office. A few staff members watch me go, questions on their faces, but I’m glad that no one intercepts me until I get to my car.
I swallow hard, blinking fast in the dark even though there’s no point in holding back tears. There’s no one here to see them. There won’t be anyone after I leave and I’m all alone on the other side of the country.
My phone starts buzzing in my pants and I try to ignore it. When it doesn’t stop, I pull it out to check who has the worst timing in history.
“Dad,” I say in a garbled voice when I pick up.
“Your Coach just called me with the news.” Shit. I bang on the steering wheel. Of freaking course this is when Dad decides to show up. “Congratulations, son. I’ll get to work on the paperwork on Mon?—”
“I’m your son now?”
“Excuse me?”
“Now,” I repeat in a flat voice. “When I’m moving to the opposite coast. That’s when I’m your son.”
“I—I’m not following.”
Everything I’ve had bottled up for years and years finally spills out of my mouth. “You never called when I won a game. Or when I lost one. You forgot to call me on my birthday this year, by the way. ButnowI’m yourson.” I put some ugly emphasis on those two words.
“Brooklyn, what are you talking about?” He sounds flabbergasted.
“You’ve ignored me for years. Why the hell do you care what I do now? Or am I finally successful enough for you to notice me?” I don’t give a shit that I’m weeping at this point. I’m so mad and hurt and sad. I don’t care about anything anymore.
He repeats my name and adds, “Come home. Let’s talk about this.”
“No, I don’t want to talk with anyone right now. I want to be alone, just like I’m going to be starting in January.”
I hang up and turn the device off before he can even think of calling me again. Not that he would. I’m used to being without him, or my mother. But I never got used to being without my best friend.
What the hell am I going to do now?
CHAPTER 32
OLIVIA
“So, what kind of dress are we looking for?”
Brooklyn looks at me while he sips from what is potentially a kiddy-pool full of ice coffee. In the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. And in the winter.
Granted, he doesn’t feel the cold and it’s not just because he plays hockey, he just never has. It’s probably because he’s a human furnace. I can feel his heat radiating through his and my layers of clothes as we walk in the mall together, close enough to touch but not doing so. It would warm me better than the hot cup of tea I have my hands wrapped around.
“I guess something elegant.” While he talks, the straw still sits between his lips and all my attention goes there. “But like, it doesn’t have to be this huge, puffy, prom dress.”
“A specific color?” I tear my eyes away from his mouth and glance at the store exhibits. Clothes, accessories, and home goods of all kinds wait patiently for people’s wallets. I wasn’t kidding when I said there’s only dust and moths in mine, which is why we came here instead of a fancier store downtown.
“We both know it’s going to be black.”
I grin with my head still turned away from him. “Atta boy.”
“Yep, you’ve taught me well.” He clears his throat. “It’ll also be easy for me to match.”
“Oh.” I whirl toward him. “Can you please wear a black shirt so we can both look badass and intimidating?”
