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“I know.” She felt chided enough. She didn’t need any more added to it. She finished tying her shoes and shoved her regular shoes into her bag. Azalea left Jean to put her bag in a locker and take a break from the prying conversation. She almost didn’t notice John sitting in the corner of the room with a large cup of soda and a plate full of appetizers.
The reality hit her so starkly it made her stomach twist. She wanted Jewel to feel comfortable enough to come and watch her games, but more importantly, she wanted Jewel to come because they were partners, not because they were friends. Jewel had watched her tournaments before, but any time she came from then on out would be different, wouldn’t it? Azalea wanted it to be. She wanted the deeper connection, the depth of a relationship that would come with love and hope and dreams they made together.
Stumbling back to her chair, she was so lost in thought that she barely even registered when it was her turn to play. Jean had to call her name twice. It took everything in Azalea to focus on the weight of the ball in her hand, the position of her body as she lined up, the twist of her wrist and arm as she spun the ball down the lane. She scored a strike, the first one of the game.
Her team cheered behind her, giving her high fives, and once again, she wished Jewel was there to celebrate with her. In the week they’d been home, she had missed her best friend. They’d grown so much closer during their stay at Indigo. They’d cracked each other open in ways they hadn’t even thought of before, and she loved seeing the side of Jewel she’d come to know. She wanted to learn even more about her, every inch of her, every detail in her mind and heart. Azalea had only ever wanted that with one other person, decades before. Their relationship had ended swiftly and uncomfortably.
“Azalea,” Jean’s stern voice caught her attention.
“Yeah?” She looked up at Jean, worry lines etched deep in her aging face.
“It’s your turn.”
“Oh!” Jumping up, Azalea bowled her next round. She had to pay more attention to what was going on and less attention to the directions her mind seemed to be wandering. There was time to have those conversations with Jewel later. Now she had to focus on what she was there to do—win the game.
She was there for another two hours before she finally begged off and went home. Her house was quiet, and she missed the noise of just having someone else there. She needed to find the time to talk to Jewel, invite her over, make her go shopping or something. They had to get together, alone, where they could actually talk about what had happened at Indigo and where they wanted to go from there. Finding that time was going to be harder than either one of them had anticipated—and they should have anticipated it.
The end-of-the-year rush was something they had both been through many times over. They both knew that this was the time of year they rarely ever saw each other, when they were so absorbed in their work and making sure the basics and necessities got done that the thoughts of maintaining friendships and nurturing those relationships were never in the front of their minds.
Except this time it was. This time Azalea wanted Jewel to be there, wanted to talk to her, see what she had to say, listen to her talk about the spring concert a hundred times over, hear her practice the pieces on the piano so many times that she was sick of listening and yelled at her to stop it. Azalea sat heavily on her couch, the only light coming from the kitchen because she hadn’t even bothered to turn on the one in living room when she’d come in.
She knew what was going on with her. She’d only ever felt this way once before. That time the relationship hadn’t worked out, and whether or not a relationship with Jewel was going to work out, she wanted to at least give it a good shot. She wanted to see where they could go together. She wanted to give them a chance.
* * *
Friday evening was a welcome reprieve. Azalea poured herself a glass of wine as she stood in her kitchen, mixing vegetables into a stir-fry on her stove. She sipped and stirred. It was one of the few things she could concentrate on. All she knew was that her bed was calling her and she planned on falling into it early that night and getting as much sleep as she could before she hit the ground running in the morning.
She was so tired. The exhaustion went down to her bones in a way she hadn’t felt in years, but she couldn’t figure out why she was so tired. Moving the spatula absentmindedly, Azalea tried to focus on nothing other than what she was feeling. What had been so off about that week?
She hadn’t heard from Jewel at all.
Nothing.
Outside of a few benign texts, she hadn’t heard her voice except in the distance. She hadn’t been to her house or Jewel over to hers. She was missing Jewel’s energy. Grimacing, Azalea finished her dinner and poured it onto a plate. She took it, sitting at her dining room table by herself. She shoved it around her plate, not even bothering to take another bite. Her appetite had tanked in the last few minutes.
Her phone buzzing in the kitchen surprised her. She’d forgotten it, along with her wine. Pushing herself up, Azalea grabbed both and sat back down, smiling when she saw Eli’s name on the screen. “Hey.”
“Hey, Azalea. How’s your week been?”
“Busy. Hard to catch up after being gone.”
Eli snorted. “Yeah, sometimes a vacation feels not quite worth it in the end.”
“You can say that again.”
“What are you doing?”
“Right now?” Azalea’s brow drew together.
“Yes.”
“Uh…I just sat down to eat dinner.”
“Mind if I crash your dinner for one?”
“How did you know I was by myself?”
Eli laughed, her voice trilling through the phone. “Jewel is not exactly quiet, Azalea.”
