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I don’t think there’s anything wrong with needing a little time to myself. I don’t think I could face him right now, anyway. He was up there at the club, grinding on some girl who I’m sure he hardly remembers. He’s got a hell of a lot of nerve trying to get me to calm down and be reasonable. He needs to spend a little time asking himself if he could’ve done something to stop this.
Though I doubt he could. I doubt any of us could.
What am I supposed to do now? See her every day and pretend? We were already pretending, and it was already difficult enough. I wonder about her sometimes, too. Is she that naïve? Does she honestly think we can wipe the slate clean and act like nothing ever happened? I wish it were that easy.
But what other choice do I have? It doesn’t need to be easy. It just needs to happen.
How did I ever let myself fall so far?
And how am I supposed to tell myself it wasn’t worth it, when the short time we’ve had together was the best time I’ve ever had in my life?
22
RYDER
Damn. Have my feet always been this heavy? Especially when I’m on my way inside the arena. I always look forward to work. It’s what I love to do. An excuse to play and get paid to do it. I mean, what’s not to love?
Today, I would rather be doing anything else than what I’m about to do.
I told myself to give it some thought. I spent the night going back-and-forth, arguing with myself. Trying to be sure I wasn’t making a huge mistake out of, like, anger or hurt. But now, it’s been most of a day since Harlow broke up with us, and I feel the same as I did when I left yesterday.
She did what she felt she had to do? This is what I have to do. I can’t see this going any other way.
I’m a good half hour earlier than the rest of the team, but that’s on purpose. I need to speak to Coach before everybody else gets here and distracts him. For all I know, he’ll lose his shit on me. I don’t want them around for that, either. When he decides he wants to be heard, there’s nowhere you can go to escape that voice.
I figured I’d find him at his desk, and that’s exactly where he is, watching film on his computer. I have to do this. No matter how much it sucks. I tap on the door before I can punk out, and he looks surprised to find me standing here. “Ryder. It’s a little early. What’s on your mind?”
“I wanted to talk to you privately.”
“You did, eh?” He’s wary, watching me as I take a seat across from him. “What can I do for you?”
“You can hear me out and not argue with me.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. But…” Here goes nothing. “I want to request a trade.”
Shit. His eyes go so wide they bulge before he slams back against his chair like he just got hit by a shockwave. His face goes red all at once and for a second or two, I’m afraid I fucked up even worse than I could’ve predicted. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“Didn’t mean to…” His jaw drops before he lets out a long breath. “How was I supposed to react?”
“I’m sorry. I am, really. But I think it’s for the best.”
“Hold on a minute.” He pulls his chair in closer to the desk and sits up straighter. “I was not prepared for that. It is way too early in the day for me to deal with something like this.”
“I’m sorry to drop it in your lap all at once.”
“Why?” His head tips to the side. “You’ve been having a great season. You’re playing better than I’ve ever seen you, in fact. Do you feel like you’ve been mistreated here? Maybe you’re not challenged enough?”
“You didn’t do anything to push me toward this decision, I swear. You’re the best.” When that doesn’t seem to help anything, I feel like I have to add something. “And what you’ve done with the team since last season is… Kind of miraculous. Thank you for that.”
“What difference does it make if you want to trade out of nowhere?”
“It’s complicated.” Oh, great choice of words. It’s like his eyes literally light up before he leans closer.
“You can tell me, you know. That’s what I’m here for. I want you to play well, but I want you to feel comfortable on the team, too. Does it have something to do with the fight? I sensed something happening with you and Ash, and Soren. Is it something I can help with?”
“No.” His face pinches a little, probably because I practically shouted it. No, that’s the last thing any of us needs. “If it were something you could help with, I would totally tell you about it. But it isn’t.”
