Home > On a Tuesday (One Week #1)(30)

On a Tuesday (One Week #1)(30)
Author: Whitney G.

“Right...So, on a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that you can just let her go at this point?” he asked. “He said vs. she said never ends well for anyone, especially when one person is lying. She’s lying to you, man.”

“She’s not lying.” I knew she wasn’t by the way she’d acted today, and I knew I needed to figure this out before she changed her mind about us meeting again. “Walk me through everything I told you about the end of our senior year again.”

“Right now, Grayson?”

“Right now.”

CHARLOTTE: THEN

Seven years ago

Pittsburgh

SUBJECT: HEY.

Did you forget about our date today?

—Charlotte

SUBJECT: WHERE ARE you?

I’m sitting in Highland Coffee waiting for you. Are you still coming?

—Charlotte

SUBJECT: CALL ME LATER :)

It’s been an hour and you still haven’t shown up or responded, so I guess you’re still in that meeting.

Call me later.

—Charlotte

I SIPPED THE LAST OF my latte and left the café. Ever since Grayson signed with Anna, his schedule became packed with endless advice sessions, training preparation, and mock media interviews. Our alone-time was now relegated to Tuesday night coffee sessions, the occasional date, and late-night talks whenever he finished his day.

He was unable to pick me up for classes in the mornings, but he let me drive his car since the campus police always let me out of speeding offenses whenever they realized it was his car. And even though he couldn’t hang out with me as much, he made it a point to have flowers and donuts delivered to my dorm a few times a week with sweet notes. He insisted that I “didn’t need to worry,” and to be honest, I didn’t. I was happy he was getting everything he deserved, and I was looking forward to seeing his hard work pay off.

Checking my phone one last time to see if he’d responded, I crossed the street and headed toward the law library. When I approached the student union crosswalk, I saw Grayson through the bookstore windows.

Looking exasperated, he sat across from Anna and spoke as she typed on her keyboard. Mid-sentence, he leaned back in his chair and waved to someone I couldn’t see.

Seconds later, a blonde walked over to him and smiled. She took a seat next to him and rubbed his shoulder—whispering something into his ear. She managed to get three seconds of words out before he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away.

I wasn’t the best lip reader, but I could definitely make out his annoyed “Don’t fucking touch me like that. You know I have a girlfriend.”

I laughed and called Anna’s phone, watching as she held it up to her ear.

“Hey Charlotte!” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Are you with Grayson?”

“I am,” she said. “Hold on.” She handed the phone to him and mouthed, “It’s Charlotte.”

“Hey,” he said. “I apologize in advance if you’ve called or texted me today. I left my phone in Kyle’s car at lunch, and he’s still downtown.”

“I figured there was a good reason. Did you forget about our date today?”

His face fell. “I did...I’m sorry, Charlotte. Where are you right now?”

“Across the street.”

He looked out the window and ended the call, returning Anna’s phone. He grabbed his jacket and left the café, walking over to me.

“I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Let me make this up to you.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I do.” He kissed my forehead. “I feel like we’ve been off a bit lately and I don’t want you getting ideas.”

“Ideas about what?”

“Us not being together when I go to the league. Tell me three things I can do this week to make tonight up to you.”

I smiled. “You can watch a Friends marathon with me at your place over donuts and coffee.”

“Can you try to pick something a little less painful?”

“Nope.” I laughed. “You can also let me paint you this weekend. Oh, and you can give me a massage—with my clothes on.”

“Why do your clothes need to be on?”

“Because every time you give me a naked massage, you flip my body over halfway through it and fuck me.”

“Okay.” He let go of my waist and clasped my hand. “I’ll wait until after I’m done with the massage this time. Let’s do that option first.”

CHARLOTTE: THEN

Seven years ago

Pittsburgh

“BE STILL,” I SAID, pointing my brush at Grayson a few days later. “I can’t finish painting your portrait if you’re moving.”

“I’ve been sitting still for three hours.”

“No, you’ve been sitting still for one hour.” I smiled. “You spent the first two hours taking phone calls.”

“Noted.” He walked over to me and kissed my cheek. “I want you to come with me to the marketing session with Anna tonight. I promise I’ll sit here for as long as you want me to when we get back.”

“You can’t bring me to every business meeting, Grayson.”

“Does that mean you’re not coming?”

“I am coming.” I locked my brush into its box. “But I think you need to find some new people to add to your ‘cabinet’ since I won’t be able to go to all these meetings with you when I’m at Stanford.”

“You can if I buy the plane tickets.” He kissed me. “You can also fly with me this weekend to New York if you like.”

I couldn't help but laugh. This was Grayson's tenth time asking me to join him in New York for a weekend of workout sessions. Since New York's team held the first choice in the draft and was in desperate need of a quarterback, him landing there for his first season was a foregone conclusion.

“I need you to be as focused as possible when you’re there,” I said. “Speaking of which, I made you something for your future condo.” I pulled a pink box from under my bed and handed it to him.

“More donuts?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Open it.”

He untied the satin ribbon and pulled the top off the box. He pulled out a smaller box and tore off the pink tissue paper.

"Coffee mugs." He ran his finger across the blue and gray sentences on the back side and read them aloud. They were all quotes that gave a timeline of our relationship—everything from, "Are you, Charlotte Taylor?" "You still haven't given me your phone number," and, "I think I'm falling in love with you."

On the front of the mug were the words, “Yes, I’m that good” in huge bold print, with a small black and white picture of him kissing me stamped within the two “O” letters.

He remained silent for a long time.

“I know this gift is super simple.” I got the sudden feeling the wasn’t as enthused about these as me. “But since you and Kyle never had any actual coffee mugs in your apartment and we always had to use red cups, I thought this would be a good idea. Especially now that you drink coffee as much as I do.”

He set the box on the dresser and then he stared at me.

“You could at least say something,” I said. “I hand-painted each letter onto those and it took me twenty drafts to get them right.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“Well, fine.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll send you off to New York with a box of donuts and maybe—” My sentence ended on his lips.

“I fucking love you, Charlotte.”

CHARLOTTE: THEN

Seven years ago

Pittsburgh

SUBJECT: AWARDS DINNER

Charlotte,

My NY flight won’t land in time for me to make it to your Student of the Year dinner. I’ll have to make tonight up to you somehow. (I will. Trust me.)

Love you,

Grayson

PS—Did you get the flowers I sent today?

SUBJECT: RE: AWARDS Dinner

Grayson,

It’s more than okay. The program for tonight’s ceremony looks like it will be a snore-fest anyway. I have no doubt you’ll make it up to me. (You always do)

   
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