I sink down onto a bench and hunch forward. Gene lays into us hard, detailing our mistakes and our inability to shake them off. He yells for so long that I find myself mellowing. I’m physically and emotionally drained.
It’s been a long fucking day. When I get in the shower, I stand and just let the hot water run over my shoulders and down my chest and back for a couple minutes.
All I want to do is go to Dustin’s grave and apologize for forgetting. I want to tell him how much I miss him. He told me and our parents that his greatest wish was for us to go on without him and be happy, but I just can’t. Every time something good happens in my life, I think about how it will never happen for him. He’ll never land his dream job. He’ll never meet a woman like Miranda.
And the hell of it is that he deserves those things more than I do. Dustin was one of the best people I’ve ever known. He was laid back, funny and generous. Cystic fibrosis stole a man who would have made the world a better place.
My teammates are going out for dinner, but I turn down their invite to join them. I need to be alone tonight. I’m rooming with Tuck, but he’ll just come in later and go to bed. He knows to steer clear of me right now.
I dress in a black suit with a white dress shirt and red tie. I’m not up for interviews, so one of our PR people sneaks me out a side exit of the arena and I get into a waiting taxicab.
My thoughts wander to Miranda on the ride to the hotel. I take out my phone and text her.
Me: U free for a date Sunday night?
Miranda: I wish I could, but I got an 82 on my Econ exam. I have to study Sunday.
Me: Come on, blow it off.
Miranda: I can’t.
Me: Fine.
Miranda: You texted that in a petulant tone, didn’t you?
Me: If petulant means pissed off, then yes.
Miranda: You’re pissed at me?
Me: Not at u, just pissed I can’t see u.
Miranda: Are you okay?
Me: Of course. Why do u ask?
Miranda: I worked at the bar tonight and your game was on TV.
Me: Not my best one for sure.
Miranda: Do you take losses hard?
Me: U might say that. So what are u doing?
Miranda: Just finished cleaning up the kitchen and I’m going to bed.
Me: Okay. I’ll see u Friday when u come to my room.
Miranda: See you then.
For just a second, I consider calling her to talk about Dustin. But it would probably make me feel worse to admit to her that I forgot his birthday.
The cab arrives at my hotel and I pass the driver some cash. When I get into my room, I take off my tie and call in a room service order. As soon as I hang up the phone, Hailey walks out of the bathroom wearing just a black bra and panties.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I stand up from the bed I’m sitting on.
“Relax, baby. Tuck won’t be back for hours, I talked to him. It’s just you and me.”
She licks her lips and starts walking toward me. I shake my head and put up a hand to stop her.
“You need to go, Hailey.”
“I know you’re down about the game. Let me make it better.”
“I’m not just down. You don’t want to be around me right now.”
She keeps walking my way. “I do, though. I’m your girlfriend. It’s my job to be here for you.”
Her words are like nails on a chalkboard. My muscles tense as I glare at her.
“No. I’m not up for sex right now. I don’t want anyone even touching me.”
She sighs softly. “I can just keep you company, then.”
“I don’t want any fucking company. I’m a moody, miserable asshole when I don’t play well. Ask any of the guys, they’ll tell you. I can’t be around anyone right now.”
“Not even me?”
“No. I’ll be in a mood for days. This is the way I am.”
Hailey sticks out her lower lip. “Well, what am I supposed to do, then?”
“I don’t know. Just something that’s not here.”
“I came all this way for this?”
I shrug. “I didn’t ask you to come.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “Seriously, Hailey. Get out.”
She goes into the bathroom and walks back out wearing a tight black dress and heels. After giving me a dirty look, she walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
At least my dark mood had one upside. I remind myself to channel this mindset the next time I want to get rid of Hailey. Which will be the next time I see her.
Chapter 14
Miranda
It’s a cold, overcast Friday morning in downtown Chicago, and the mood on the train seems to match the weather. People are pushier and crabbier than usual. A couple guys nearby in the car I’m riding in sound like they’re about to throw down over who shoved who when the train doors were closing.
“Douchebag,” one of them mutters.
“Real classy,” the other one says back.
I turn away from them and watch the passing scenery instead. I’m so glad it’s Friday morning that I don’t think I could get mad at anyone today. This week I’ve been studying for both my classes—Economics and World History. Between that, working at the Dupont, and the couple shifts I picked up at the bar for a co-worker whose mother is sick, I’m beat.
I’m going to sleep so hard when I finish my shift at the bar tonight. I may just spend Saturday in my pajamas. Sunday it’s back to studying. Hopefully I’ll have a kickass job one day and all this exhaustion will be worth it.