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We were quiet a moment. He asked, “Why did you stay? I thought you liked San Diego.”
I shrugged. “Betty Blue was too old to compete again, and Dad was busy with Pam and Jazzy. Here, I could be on my own, and still be near my friends.”
“And your brother,” he added.
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t really say that’s a bonus.”
He relaxed. This was the Jacob I had known and loved, a carefree California boy, with a million-dollar smile and the keys to the city. I stuttered, “I heard John is thinking about starting a youth football camp next summer. Have you thought about helping out?”
And just like that, it was gone. He hunched back over his papers. “Nope.”
He stood to leave, his limp more pronounced after sitting for so long. “I was able to get all the players you wanted for your calendar. Tell me the dates and make the arrangements, I’ll make sure they show up.”
I stood where I was, watching him. “Jacob?” I said, softly.
He stopped, his back to me.
I stepped forward. “Jacob, why didn’t you call me?” I stopped, shocked I’d actually said the words out loud.
He dropped his head and put his hands on his hips. I went to him and stood a few feet behind him. Quietly, I said, “You never called. We never officially ended us. It was like we never happened.”
He lifted his head, went to the door and opened it.
I caught up to him at the door. “Jacob, what did I do wrong?”
He looked at my hand on his arm, and clenched his jaw. When his eyes met mine, they were sad. “You know.”
“Jacob.” My chest hurt.
He stepped around me and left the office, saying over his shoulder. “I’m going to get more bagels.”
And just like that, we were back to being acquaintances.
