Page 60 of Last Slice of Pie

For her, I can try—no, I will try harder.

Homemade Granola Bars

SHUTTING OFF THE television, I sit still as silence fills my bedroom, and it echoes the sound inside my chest. Well, the sound is silent, but the pain is loud.

With being gone over the weekend and not having any time, I recorded Bryan’s game because, no matter what, I wouldn’t miss it. I already knew they won, but I wouldn’t forgive myself down the road if I didn’t watch one of the biggest games of his career. Despite our current relationship, he’s still important to me, and I desperately want the best for him. He deserves it. He deserves it all.

The change in him from the division playoff game to this one was night and day. His level of focus was laser sharp, to the point where even the announcers commented on it. The concentration lines in his forehead; his narrowed, all-seeing eyes; his pinched lips; the tension across his shoulders—they ate it up, whereas all I felt was guilt. They also commented on how I wasn’t seen at the game.

Headlines involving him this morning all revolved around the jinx and if it’s finally over. Turns out, they were right all along. Clearly, I was a distraction, and I did affect his ability to do his job. You can’t hide the truth, and there it is in plain sight for the world to see. I jinxed him.

I was bad for him.

Placing the remote on my nightstand, I lean back against the headrest and pull the covers up. My eyes find the fireplace mantle, and I can’t help but stare at the picture of James, myself, and Bryan. It’s the same photo from the television interview he did at the beginning of the season, the one that’s been splashed across screens for the world to see, and it’s also one of my favorites. I’m standing in between the two of them after they won the state title, their last game as high school seniors, and Bryan had reached over and grabbed my hand. Both of them are towering over me, dripping with sweat, and both of them are smiling from ear to ear. I love this photo not just because the three of us are in it together or because it was printed in our high school yearbook, but because there is a true, genuine smile on Bryan’s face, a rare sight.

Just like the mantle downstairs, all the pictures in my room are a mixture of GiGi, James, Bryan, and me. He may think my life is simple—he’s not wrong about the fact that I am just a pie baker—but it’s still my life, and these are my memories. I wouldn’t trade them for anything, even when that overwhelming sense of loneliness creeps over me. It is official: I am completely alone. Everyone I have ever loved has left me or moved on, even ones I didn’t love, like my mother and father.

For years I dreamt about what it would be like to have Bryan come back to me, only now I know, and unfortunately knowing is worse than not. I also dreamt about what it would be like to see him play in the Super Bowl, and now here we are. Years ago, I promised him if he ever made it, I would be there, only now I’m not so sure.

I don’t want to distract him or be bad for him. I want this for him, more than I’ve ever really wanted anything for myself. All his dreams are about to come true, so how could I go and disrupt it? I’m not so sure he would even want me there, but then again, a promise is a promise.

It was a random day in April, and both Bryan and James had come running into the kitchen to make some lunch. I had just pulled an apple pie out of the oven and set it on the counter, and the sweet smell was wafting through the air.

“Just think, one day, I’m going to play in the Super Bowl. I’m calling it now, and you both better be there to see it,” Bryan said, smiling at me and stuffing a sandwich into his mouth. Both of them had spent spring break as well as a few other weekends up at the college, already being integrated into the team and working conditioning drills.

“Wait!” James yelled. “Why am I not in it with you?” he asked, chewing with his mouth open like only a gross guy can.

“Because, we’ll probably get drafted to different teams, and my team is going to beat your team. That’s why.” His smile dipped to a taunting smirk. He gulped down half a glass of water, and I watched his throat move.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that if I have anything to say about it,” James grumbled.

“Regardless of who makes it, let’s make a pact: no matter where we are or what we’re doing, we’ll go. We have to.” Bryan held up his fist for James to bump, and he did, hard.

“I’m in, but of course I’ll be the one playing.” James laughed.

“Dude, if you’re playing, I’m there,” Bryan told him.

“Me too.” He nodded back.

When the two of them were together, it was like all was right in the world—my world, that is.

“How about you, Lex?” Bryan asked as he turned to face me.

For a moment, I was dumbstruck. Yes, I’d looked at him every day for the past eight years, but he had so effortlessly slipped from being a teenage guy to a young man, and sometimes I found myself tongue-tied. He was so handsome.

“I’ll be there,” I told him, and his eyes crinkled in the corners with a closed-mouthed smile.

“Promise?” he asked, raising one brow.

“I promise.”

Seconds ticked by as we both smiled at each other. I could feel heat climbing up into my cheeks, and this pleased him as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I loved it when he did that.

“Dude.” James elbowed him in the back. “Stop staring at my sister.” He scowled, and Bryan laughed.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said as James started pulling him toward the door. “Also, promise to save me the last slice of that pie, too.” He swung his gaze over and looked at it longingly.

“Yes, I promise to always save you the last slice of pie,” I told him, propping one hip on the counter, flirting with him.