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“Mom.”
“Kanchu, how was school today?” my mother still asked me, as if I were a child in elementary school. “How was your test?”
“Great. I dissected a dead body and rocked it. You should’ve seen it. The way I used the scalpel today was on point, no pun intended.”
“Oh, don’t make jokes involving the dead.”
“I wasn’t. I think I did really well.”
“Good. Then I won’t keep you long because I know you are probably studying.”
“Of course,” I lied. However, I knew I needed to. I glanced at the screen of my laptop and watched as highlights of Axel’s best games at Hillside were meshed together, showcasing his talent. My heart hurt to watch it, bringing back more unwanted memories. I cleared my throat, turning away from the screen. “What did you want?”
“I want to have a gathering with Kiran’s family the weekend you come home. It’s Rajina’s birthday.”
A gathering. Of course, she did.“Sure. Sounds great.” I feigned an excitement I wasn’t feeling at all. “I told you I needed more time to think about Kiran and I. I don’t know if I can promise anything more.” This whole situation made my stomach hurt.
“I understand. I am not putting pressure on you. I only want to have a celebration for my best friend. We always celebrate birthdays together.”
“I know, Mom.” I sighed.
“Great. It’s all set.” Of course, it was because my mother made plans first before confirming if everyone was on board. We were just naturally always available. “Okay, darling, I will let you go. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Dropping my head, I sighed. My phone buzzed again with a notification. My heart jumped, thinking maybehewould call or text. However, it was just an Instagram notification of Axel’s latest post. Clicking on it, I saw a picture of him as a skinny young boy with thick dark hair in a football jersey, standing between his father and a stunning woman who must’ve been his mother. The caption read:I did it, Mom.
My eyes watered; he missed his mother. My stupid heart softened for him.Get over it. I tossed my phone aside. I had to move on from this. From him. I could do it. As time went on, certainly, it would become easier.
Axel
“Here’s to good health and great friends.” Roman raised his glass. “To the future.”
“Here! Here!” Nick said, with his arm around Kenzie. Glasses clinked in the center of the table. We were all having dinner at one of the restaurants at the Aria hotel, where we were staying for the night. It was after eleven at night, and all my friends had been drafted in the first round to different professional teams.
We’d worked hard, and this was the ultimate goal. We’d all made it to the pros. Nick was drafted by Kansas City, while Roman was going to Arizona. And Dmitri’s wish had come true. He was going to Dallas to play with Marco Cruz.
Scanning the large, round eight-top, my friends were smiling and celebrating with their girlfriends—soon-to-be wives, eventually. Hell, Dmitri was going to have a family soon. They were all happy. Content. They had someone to share their achievements with. They weren’t alone.
Fuck. I was still high off the adrenaline tonight and needed someone to celebrate with. Unwillingly, my thoughts went back to Natalie. It’d been three weeks, and I had to remind myself not to think about her. She was in my head too much. She was making me lose focus on what I needed to do. She was fucking getting married.
I was angry and a jerk to her, but damn, she’d been talking about marriage to another guy while she was going out with me? That hurt. It fucking hurt, and I wasn’t a pussy. Maybe I needed to find some entertainment tonight. We were in Vegas, for Christ’s sake.
I glanced down at my phone, which had continually blown up all evening with congratulatory texts. However, the one person I wanted to hear from never sent a message. I wasn’t surprised. I figured she was done with me when she slapped me and called me an asshole. I was an asshole, but she was even crueler by admitting that her future husband was a better man for her. Should I be surprised? It was probably the truth.
I felt a sharp jab in my arm. I narrowed my eyes. “The fuck was that for, Nick?”
“You gonna keep moping like a bitch all evening?”
“I’m not moping.”
“You’ve either been sulking like a baby for the past few weeks or drinking like a closet alcoholic.”
“I have not. You’re so overdramatic.”
“You fucking destroyed your room.”
When we broke it off that night, I sped home, intent on getting fucked up. So, I passed through the throng of people still partying at our house, ignoring them all as if I had tunnel vision. I went straight to the kitchen, snagged an unopened bottle of tequila, and headed to my room. After locking the door, I sat down on the bed and proceeded to polish off most of the bottle until I blacked out.
