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“Thank you.” She follows me to the door. “It’s only two more weeks. Surely we can handle being around one another for that long.”
I nod, my eyes burning, and walk out. “See you at the sports complex later.”
“Great. I’m sure Maisie will enjoy having her uncle show her some of his moves.”
I turn and she smiles as though she’s not as affected by this conversation as I am, but then again, she’s never denied me before. I always thought the sexual tension was too great for one of us to put the other in time-out.
I leave her house hurt and pissed off, but I understand what she’s saying—I am leaving soon.
I climb in my rental and drive around for hours, not wanting to come into contact with anyone. One of the many great things about Chicago is that not everyone knows you. Sure, some people recognize me, but a lot don’t. It’s easy to hide in a city of millions and I miss that anonymity right now.
My phone rings and Joran’s name flashes across the screen. I park along the edge of the road and answer it.
“Hey, Joran.”
“Finally! Sometimes I go forever not able to get through to you up there. Are you sure you’re not staying in an igloo?” He laughs at his joke, but I don’t bother. I’ve heard the same shit about being from Alaska my entire life.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Your off-season is booking up with endorsement deals, my friend. I mean, your contract is the bread and butter, but endorsements are where the gravy is, am I right?”
I always wonder how many espressos Joran consumes in a day. Having to be peppy and treat athletes with kid gloves all the time has to grow annoying.
“What companies?”
“You’ve got a razor, deodorant, and energy drink offer. It’s the trifecta of athletic endorsements. And I’m working on some underwear too. So once you’re done up there, we’ve got a few busy months ahead of us. The razor brand said they need you on set the day after that wedding. Everyone else I’ve spaced out a bit more. Just shoot the commercial, do some voice- over ads for radio, and let the money roll in.”
I don’t say anything because for a moment after I left Calista’s, I thought maybe I could stay in Alaska longer than I’d planned. Maybe we could figure something out. Not a ton of athletes are successful at it, but Calista and I could give a long-distance relationship our best shot. But how can I make that promise when I’m doing endorsements and other shit like that during the off-season? I only have so many years to set myself up for life and I have to take advantage while I can.
“Fine, book me as much as you can.” It’ll be good to keep busy once I leave here.
“That’s my guy! You got it.”
I hang up and pull back onto the road. When I reach Lake Starlight, I pull up near the side of the lake and climb out of my truck, then I sit on the hood and stare at the lake.
Everything today, from my mom to Calista, runs on repeat in my head. I never thought I was selfish. It’s so rare that anyone gets the opportunities I’ve had. And I fucking hated being a Greene in our town. All the shit I got about my grandma choosing between two brothers, a story so old it didn’t even matter anymore. And then my mom ended up with my dad after she got divorced from his cousin. It left a lot of room for ribbing growing up. Not to mention how much everyone was always up in our business because we were Greenes. All of it is bullshit. But that’s what you get in a small town.
Could I ever willingly choose to come back to that life? I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be happy, and in turn, I wouldn’t be the guy who could make Calista happy. The same would be true if Calista moved to Chicago to be with me.
The wind whips my hair, and I climb back in my car to head toward the sports complex.
If I’m early, I’ll get some practice in.
I turn on the radio during my drive, trying to distract myself from my thoughts, but a song comes on that I remember playing at Calista’s great-grandma’s ninetieth birthday and I’m sucked back into the past.
Twenty
Rylan
At twenty-one, I came home for the weekend, and my mom didn’t tell me that Grandma Ethel was picking me up until I was already at baggage claim. When I came out, she and her little gang of geriatrics were waiting for me in the retirement home van, complete with a narcoleptic driver.
But the worst part was that Calista and her brother were getting picked up too, which meant all three of us were traveling back together. Calista had been giving me the cold shoulder after we’d run into each other at UCLA.
She climbed on the bus, and Dion, her brother, snapped a picture just as she saw me. He laughed and said he was reporting it to Buzz Wheel. She sat in the seat across from me and damn, she looked so good. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was in season, and I wanted to ask her why she wasn’t playing today, but she’d made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. I knew her schedule by heart and caught any game I could, but they didn’t air a lot of women’s games.
Then my grandma asked, “Ry, sweetie, tell Dori about your girl.”
Calista looked over from the corner of her eye, and I didn’t have it in me to be the bigger person. Truth was, I kind of liked her jealous, as fucked up as that was.
