Confessions
Winnie
“Okay. Spill.”
Tori settles into the massage chair beside me, her feet already submerged in the bubbling water. The nail salon is quiet for a Tuesday evening—just us and two other women at the far end, scrolling through their phones.
“Spill what?” I ask innocently.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Winifred.”
“Don’t call me Winifred.”
“Then don’t deflect.” She points a finger at me. “I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. The last time I saw you, you sat in Banks Callahan’s lap for two hours while he looked at you like you hung the moon, and I need details. Now.”
I sink deeper into my chair, letting the massage rollers work on my lower back. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Lies. Blatant lies.” Tori grabs a magazine from the rack beside her and fans herself dramatically. “The sexual tension was so thick I could’ve cut it with a knife. Zayden noticed. Archer noticed.Even Logan noticed, and that boy is oblivious to everything.”
“There was no sexual tension.”
“Winnie. His hand was on your stomach. His nose was in your hair. At one point, I’m pretty sure he growled at a guy who looked at you too long.”
“He didn’t growl.”
“It was growl-adjacent.”
The nail technician approaches, and we pause our conversation long enough to pick colors. Tori goes for a bold red. I choose a soft pink that I immediately second-guess.
“Too boring?” I ask.
“It’s pretty. Classic.” Tori wiggles her toes in the water. “Stop deflecting.”
“I’m not deflecting. I’m… processing.”
“Processing what?”
I stare at my feet, watching the bubbles swirl around my ankles. How do I even begin to explain what’s happening in my head? I don’t understand it myself.
“Things are confusing,” I finally admit.
Tori’s expression shifts from teasing to genuine concern. “Confusing how?”
“He’s not what I expected.” The words come out slowly, as if I’m figuring them out as I say them. “He’s awkward. Grumpy. He barely talks, and when he does, it’s like pulling teeth. Half the time, I can’t tell if he likes me or tolerates me.”
“But?”
“But then he does these little things.” I shake my head, frustrated by my own inability to articulate it. “Like checking in with me, making sure I’mokay, asking if I’ve eaten, walking me to my car.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It’s confusing. Because he acts like he doesn’t care about anything, but then he notices everything.” I pick at the armrest of my chair. “He called me last night. After the game.”
Tori’s eyebrows shoot up. “To talk about what?”
“To check on me, I think. We only talked for a few minutes, but before he hung up, he said goodnight.”
“That’s adorable.”
