I've lost.
Is this rock bottom? Right now it feels like it. I'm losing any credibility with the NFL, and I lost her. The two most important things in my life.
Zach:I lost my third game in a row. That’s never happened to me before.
Honeycomb??:Shit happens. It’s not the apocalypse.
Zach:You sure? It feels pretty apocalyptic.
Honeycomb??:That’s because you’re a quarterback. You guys think everything is life or death.
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter, rereading her messages. How can I be living through the worst night of my career and still be smiling? Because I’m talking to her.
Honeycomb??:A few bad games at the start of your first season doesn’t suddenly mean it’s the end.
Zach:My coach disagrees.
Honeycomb??:Maybe, but I don’t trust any man whose forehead vein is that prominent.
I bark out a laugh.
Honeycomb??:Sorry. I shouldn’t joke. I know it’s not actually funny.
Honeycomb??:But that vein is concerning. It looks like it's about to burst when he gets angry. I hope he gets it checked out.
Honey's a better person than me. Always hoping and wishing for people who don't deserve it. Tonight, I'm starting to feel like I'm one of them.
Zach:Tell me something good, Honeycomb. I don’t want to think about football right now. What are you up to?
A minute passes before she sends through a picture of a dorm room or an apartment. I can’t really tell which. All I know is thatI want to be there so badly it hurts. The ridiculous number of pillows on her bed tells me it's her room, so I zoom in, searching for any clue over where she is in this country. The books are too blurry to make out, there's a mug in the shape of a pumpkin, and some fairy lights hanging along the wall. Nothing. There is absolutely nothing that would tell me where she is.
Honeycomb??:Finally settled into my new digs.
Zach:Looks cozy. I like the pillows.
Honeycomb??:You’re just saying that.
Zach:No, I’m not. Pillows on your bed bring back some very good memories.
I smirk, remembering how she used to toss those pillows on her dorm room floor to protect her knees before we-
Honeycomb??:You’re thinking of something inappropriate right now, aren’t you?
Zach typing.
I stop myself, thinking about what I should say versus what I want to say.
Fuck it.
After a 0-3 loss, I go for the latter. She’s mine. We both know it. I’m just waiting for her to come back.
Zach:Does thinking about stuffing your mouth with your wet panties while I rail you on your dorm floor count as inappropriate?
Send.
She types. Then it disappears. Types again. Disappears.
Honeycomb??:Zach.
