I don’t know why I’m still thinking about this in terms of a viable career path.
Maybe because refereeing was the one thing I got to do that was on my terms. I couldn’t play soccer at a competitive level because my family couldn’t make that kind of commitment. I went to PT school because of Benj. Made sense, right? Therapy had been such a big part of his life that I should give back on his behalf. Pivoting into refereeing started as a hobby when I was in college and took off from there.
I did it for me.
It’s one of the few things I ever did for myself.
Even if I did throw my career away with both hands, I still made history. I should be proud of that.
I haul myself out of bed. To do what? I’m not exactly sure. I have three more days before I’m expected to log back into my soul-sucking day job. If I could, I’d break every single fragile item in my apartment. Even then, I’m not sure it would help.
But I bet it would feel awesome.
It’s probably beyond what I’m supposed to do, but in all reality, I feel fine. I could have gone back to work today, but I decided to take the entire week. It’s been three days since I kissed Brandon.
Not that I’m counting or anything.
I haven’t heard from him.
Not that I expected to. Especially not with the things I said to him.
Want to know the funny thing? I don’t even have a way to get ahold of him. We never exchanged numbers or anything. He’s been in my place more than anyone else, and I can’t even text him.
Not that I would.
Or that I want to.
I mean, I think I’d feel a little better if I could at least apologize for the comments about his hair. Those were uncalled for.
My phone dings. I don’t race to see who it is. There are only three likely possibilities: Benj, Mike, or Nathan. I don’t want to talk to any of them.
I’m still mad at Benj for freezing me out and not telling me about Samantha or his plans. Maybe mad isn’t the right word? Maybe it’s hurt that I’m so invisible to him too that he forgot I was supposed to be important to him.
I never want to talk to Mike these days. Everything about him grates on me. But mostly because he gets paid more for doing the same exact job I do. And he knows it too. Yet he’s not doing anything to speak up for me.
Though you can bet if the situation was reversed, he’d be begging me to go to the mat for him.
I don’t think I need to explain why I don’t want to talk to Nathan. The longer I go without hearing from him, the more I can be delusional that no one will ever find out, and I’ll get to keep my job.
If that should happen, I know I could be super professional in a Buzzards’ game. I could be impartial and fair. Nobody would believe it though.
Finally, my curiosity gets the better of me. It’s Hannah LaRosa.
Hannah: You okay?
Why is she texting me that? Am I viral again? Has someone posted Brandon coming and going from my place? I quickly open ClikClak and search around. There’s nothing about Brandon or me.
Hannah herself has plenty to use, if she wanted. She doesn’t seem like the type. In fact, she seems like the type of person I might be able to someday call a friend.
Me: Okay. Why?
Hannah: Cally said you had a concussion
Relief floods my body. She doesn’t know.
Me: Yeah. I’m okay. It was minor. Feeling back to my old self. But don’t tell my day job that. I told them I needed the whole week off.
Hannah: Your secret is safe with me
