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“What for?” I ask. He keeps hammering me about this and it's starting to piss me off. "This is the third time you're asking since I arrived."
Marc shrugs. “I'm just checking in with you. Something seems off."
"Nothing's off. I'm fine." I don't know if that's completely true. Especially after last night. But fuck if I'm going to dissect my feelings or admit that something might be different than it was before.
"Hey, if you’re happy alone, you do you.”
“It’s not about being alone. I just don’t want someone who wants my money." I push the door to the balcony open to let in fresh air. "That’s all they’re after—the money and fame, and what it means for them if they’re seen on my arm. And I’m over that shit.” I don't like not being enough as a person, and when they're after my money, that's exactly what they make me feel like—worthless, but the cash is worth it.
“Yeah, I get it. But they’re out there, you know. There are women who don’t actually want something from you other than your companionship.”
“It’s a fairytale,” I say.
Marc shakes his head and stands.
“I have to get ready for training; I’m meeting the team just now. We have to whip ourselves into shape so that we can beat your ass.”
I laugh. “You think you’re going to walk away from this with a win?”
“I know we are.”
“Fuck that,” I say. “We’re going to pummel you into the ground. You won’t know what hit you. Stacey’s going to have to nurse your ego when you’re on honeymoon because you’ll have lost so badly you’ll look like a fool. Newlywed and happy, but a fool.”
Marc laughs. “You just keep telling yourself what you need to hear.” He walks to the door. “We’ll see when the time comes.”
“We will,” I promise.
Marc disappears, and I shake my head, still laughing. Fuck, I love that guy. And talking smack with him since we’re on opposing teams is good, innocent fun. It doesn’t matter what happens between us, whether we win or lose, Marc and I will always put our rivalry on the field aside when we’re off it.
He’s one of the best friends I’ve had.
There are few people I can rely on in my life. Being famous and playing sports for a living is the dream, but no one tells you what to expect. I dreamed about making it big, and having the crowds chant my name, fans ask for my autograph, and the paps follow me around was always something that sounded idyllic. But it becomes lonely and isolated. Everyone wants something from me. My money, my image, who they are by association. They like the glitz and the glam and the fact that they’re in the news, too. They become cool because they’re with me.
And everyone seems to forget about me underneath it all. They forget that I’m a person with feelings and that I want people in my life who don’t see me as some kind of demigod, but get that I get stressed and panicked, that I have nightmares, that sometimes I’m in a shit mood. I have down days, I get pissed off, I regret my choices sometimes.
I’m just like everyone else, but they think I’m removed from reality, invincible, somehow. Made of stone.
And that’s the part that I don’t like about all of this. I thought being at the top meant I would be surrounded by everyone who cared, but I left the people behind who did, and now it’s just me up here.
Of course, people like Marc are the exception, but we don’t even live in the same State. We barely see each other.
When I get dressed to train, Jenna is on my mind again. Damn it, why can’t I stop thinking about her? I want to see her again. I want to talk to her, to get to know who she is now and what she’s doing. What is her life like? Who did she become since high school?
Maybe talking to her won’t be such a bad thing. We’re stuck in this wedding together, anyway. So we might as well be on good terms. I decide to find her later and talk to her.
