Page 85 of Fair Catch
I broke her trust.
I betrayed her.
And the truth of the matter was simple.
I’d blown my second chance.
I knew without asking that I wouldn’t get a third.
Riley
Empty.
Everything was empty.
The walls of my new room were white and bare, all the art I’d had hanging in my previous one shoved back in boxes and under my bed to stay. The jar of origami stars Zeke had given me was under there, too, tucked far into the back so I wouldn’t accidentally have to see them, even though I didn’t have the heart to throw them away.
That’s how I felt inside, too — stripped, numb, everything heavy packed away and compartmentalized. But even with it all out of sight and my emotions tied down against their will, I was still unable to even pretend to be happy or excited for anything at all.
I stayed in that numb state the entire time as I moved out of my dorm with Zeke and into the new one I’d been assigned with Clay. I was emotionless when I had to tell the team what happened the morning after we were in Coach’s office, when I had to watch the confusion and pain and anger wash over their faces as they realized what that meant for them — me and Zeke sitting out.
They all offered us both words of encouragement after, but neither of us could accept them.
Least of all me.
And since that moment, I’d done nothing but practice, study, and sleep — though that last one was hit or miss.
I’d known what it felt like to be high on life, to buzz beneath the touch of a boy I wanted so badly I felt it humming in every nerve of my body. And I’d known immense pain, the unreachable kind, the type born only of an unthinkable circumstance becoming reality, like it did when my twin was paralyzed.
I’d known the whole spectrum of emotion, but this…
This was just nothing.
It was apathy, thick and heavy and worse than pain.
At least if I was hurting, I would feel something.
A knock on my door did nothing but make me blink, and when I didn’t answer, Clay opened it tentatively.
“Hey,” he said, surveying where I was lying on my back on my unmade bed. “A few of us are heading to the stadium to get breakfast before practice. Wanna join?”
“Not hungry,” was all I responded, and then I rolled over on my side, letting him know I didn’t have anything else to say.
He left me with a sigh that told me he didn’t want to, but I was glad he respected me enough not to push.
I checked the time on my phone, noting exactly how long I could lie there dead before I needed to peel myself off the mattress and head to practice. It was a new form of torture, showing up to run drills knowing I wouldn’t be playing in the game.
I also pulled up my text thread with Zeke for the millionth time, knowing before I opened it that nothing had changed.
I’m so sorry, Riley.
It was the only text that had come through since we were called into Coach’s office, and it had vibrated my phone at nearly three a.m. that morning after. I’d been awake, and I’d stared at that text wishing I could cry, wishing that apology was enough.
Wishing we could go back to who we were in the texts above it, the ones that were light and fun and sexy, little teases shared between two unworried souls.
I let myself scroll up through those texts until a picture of us stared back at me, one I’d snapped on my phone one evening when we were hanging out on the couch. I was tucked into Zeke’s chest, his cheek resting on the crown of my head as we both offered lazy, sated smiles to the camera. I’d sent it to Zeke the next morning when I was in class.
Wish I was on the couch with you right now instead of listening to this lecture.
My stomach rolled, and I closed my eyes against the zing of longing that washed through me, swiping to exit my texts before I threw my phone screen down on the mattress. Part of me felt better, though.
Because at least I felt something.
I didn’t even hear the knock that announced my brother’s arrival. At least, I assumed he knocked, but maybe he just barged in, or maybe Clay let him in on his way out. Either way, I went from lying in silence on my side, to being ripped up, to standing against my will.
“Okay, normally I wouldn’t advocate for a shower before practice but… woof, Sis.” Gavin wrinkled his nose, eyes surveying my greasy hair once he’d tugged my wrist enough to flay me out of bed.
I ignored him, grabbing my duffel bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
