Page 72 of Scoring Lessons

Daisy barked, her tail wagging excitedly.

“It’s like thirty degrees outside today.”

I ignored his comment. “You should hurry, because your Daisy pie becomes impatient when she hears the word walk.”

Daisy barked once again.

His groan was audible enough to travel through the sleek, white door I had closed to give him some privacy.

“Five minutes and counting, Wesley Bennett Hayes!” I shouted from my room.

An hour later, we were walking the Chicago Lakefront Trail in silence.

It was windy, but no more than usual, so it was tolerable. People would stop us every few minutes to pet Daisy, but thankfully, no one recognized Wesley since he wore a cap and his coat.

“Are you ready to tell me why you missed practice?” I finally broke the silence between us.

He gave me no answer.

I inhaled, letting the cold air fill my lungs. “This whole broody, cryptic thing is a different look on you.”

The comment managed to pull a soft chuckle out of him. It was fleeting, barely audible, but it still felt like I’d won the lottery.

“There you are,” I teased. “Now, that’s much better.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, retreating to his broody self.

We sat in the grass that overlooked Lake Michigan.

As I opened my backpack to give Daisy some treats and water, that was when he finally said, barely above whisper, between the winter winds, “This is going to sound silly, but today I had what I call a…” He sighed, the palm of his hand brushing the brown grass back and forth like he was lost in thought. “Dark day.”

I hitched my breath, a little stunned he’d been so honest. It was as if he’d opened a door and left it cracked, waiting for me to walk through. This was him showing me something he’d kept buried.

The lukewarm water I kept in a thermos met Daisy’s to-go bowl, splashing a little on my thermal leggings.

I hummed thoughtfully. “We all do sometimes, and that’s okay. Nobody can ever be happy all the time.”

He shook his head. “No, I know. But this…this is different. Harder, I guess. It’s been happening a lot more lately, too.”

I crossed my legs to face him, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“It’s dumb,” he mumbled. “And I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

What he meant was he didn’t want to tell me. For some godforsaken reason, that splintered my heart the tiniest bit. But I also understood. Being raw and honest with someone about the imperfect parts of you was one of the hardest things. I knew the signs well enough. I’d been wandering through it myself. I kept tracing every wrong turn, hoping one would finally lead home.

“I’m not going to pressure you into telling me anything.” My hand gripped his forearm. I could barely feel it due to layers of clothes. Still, electricity danced up my arm, and I did my best to ignore it. “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“This is so weird.” His laugh was hollow, with a little sadness behind it, too.

“What?”

“Not that long ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye if you saw me bleeding to death.” His eyes met mine. My heart caught in my throat at the sight. “But now, here you are.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He smirked knowingly. “No?”

“You’ve kind of grown on me.” I playfully hit my shoulder against his.