There's been an envelope burning me, sealed, with the paternity results. I can't bring myself to open it.
I have mixed feelings. And it’s starting to show in games and practice.
"Everything okay?" Jasper asks, smacking me on the back after practice as we head into the locker room. "You don't seem like yourself."
He's right. But how do I tell him without him and the other guys freaking out? Because they will make a big deal out of the whole situation, and I'm already walking a tightrope. I don't need to fall.
"Just have a lot on my mind," I say with a heavy sigh. I strip out of my gear and head for the showers, wanting to get cleaned up and some hot water to erase the day's events. The shower stalls offer a modicum of privacy from mid-chest down.
"We’re all going over to Kyler's tonight," Jasper says from his shower stall. "Bonfire and beer. You should come and unwind."
I hesitate, inhaling a sharp breath. "Who else is attending?" I turn the shower on and let the hot water bead over me.
Knowing Kyler, he isn't just having the team at his place. He's also letting Emerson invite a few friends over, girls. One of them could possibly be Charlotte.
"Are you asking because you want to know if Charlotte is coming?" Jasper asks. "Do you want to see her, or are you avoiding her? Ever since Blue Line, I can't tell what is going on with you."
"Me either," I say and let the water pour over my face. It keeps me from having to answer Jasper's question.
"Is she a bit too much for you?" Jasper can't let it go.
I know he's got good intentions, but I'm in over my head with the fact I might be a father.
I also might not be.
I should open that damn envelope and just rip the band-aid off.
Kyler shuts off the water in his shower stall and grabs his towel. "Drinks tonight at my place. Who’s in?"
"How about who's not in?" Parker quips as he heads for an empty shower.
"Bonfire and beer," Kyler insists, trying to remind the guys he's a responsible parent. He's not throwing a kegger.
Maybe a couple of beers would be good, to take my mind off that damn letter I've avoided opening. And with enough alcohol, I'll even find the courage to tear open the envelope and read the results.
My stomach churns just thinking about what it could mean.
I've avoided dealing with it because the weight of what it could mean is heavy, and I don't have time to fixate on it.
I haven't heard a word from Jasmine or seen her. Which, again, makes me relieved but also concerned.
Did she go back to her husband? Is she on the run? Are they even still alive?
After the way Jasmine treated me when we were together, I shouldn't care, but if the boy is mine, then I can't just walk away. I won't.
I finish shutting off the shower, dry off with a towel, and get dressed in front of my locker. I grab my jacket and phone, about ready to head out.
"You dropped something," Kyler says, bending down and picking up the folded envelope I've been carrying everywhere as if it holds the secrets to the universe.
No, only my future.
He flips it over, glancing at the return address, and raises an inquisitive eye.
"Yeah, it's nothing," I say, snatching it from his grip.
He studies me, silent and brooding as I fold the envelope in half and shove it into the back pocket of my jeans, where it fell out.
"I'll see you tonight," Kyler says, nodding at me, letting the discussion drop, and I'm immensely grateful.