There’s got to be a way to save Brandon without sacrificing myself.
I’m tempted to storm out, still in my official kit. It’s already going to be hard enough to get out to my car unbothered. Wearing my fluorescent yellow jersey will probably not aid and abet me.
Maybe if I move slowly enough, people will forget I exist. I take a long shower and am deliberate in packing up my gear. By the time I’m done, Mike’s gone. Hamilton is still there.
“Walk you to your car?” he offers.
I nod, grateful for his courtesy and concern. I pull my phone out of my bag but hesitate to turn it on.
I can only imagine what’s being said out there. I can only imagine the messages from the USSLRA, demanding my presence in Atlanta tomorrow at 8 a.m. sharp. I’m sure Benj will be checking on me to see if I’m okay.
Probably my mom and dad too, though they pretty much figure I can hold my own no matter what.
Hamilton and I walk side by side out to the parking lot. There are still people with their phones held up, trying to get pictures and videos. I ignore the calls of my name, certain that if I make eye contact or speak, I’ll burst into tears.
Enough of me has been exposed today. I don’t need the world to see that too.
Hamilton opens the driver’s side door for me, and I slide in. “You good?” he asks as I turn the keys over and over in my hand without inserting them into the ignition.
I nod and he closes the door. I know he’s not going to move until he sees me drive off. I put the car in drive, not thinking about where I’m going. I’m on autopilot as I head toward I-95. I see the sign for the exit and carefully glide over three lanes of traffic.
I should not be doing this.
This is stupid.
But at the end of the day—and what a day today was—this is the only place I want to be. I need to check and make sure he’s okay. I need to thank him for coming to my defense.
I can only imagine the fine the USSL is going to slap on him for this one.
But most of all, I just want to give him a hug.
I pull into his driveway and wait for Brandon to come home.
Chapter 37: Brandon
My hand fucking hurts. So worth it.
