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BODHI

“It’s good to see you, Bodhi. How are things?”

“Things are…fine,” I tell Dr. Banks.

I don’t know if fine is necessarily what I would call it, but I do feel better than I did six months ago.

“Okay, that’s progress. Why don’t you tell me what your highs are?”

I stare at Dr. Banks in question. “Doc, I haven’t gotten high in ages,” I find myself chuckling.

A small smile escapes her. “Not that kind of high, Bodhi. I mean your life high —the good things to be grateful for lately.”

Ah. That makes more sense .

I ponder her question for a moment, twirling the fidget spinner between my fingers. “Well, the new season starts next month, pre-season at least. I’m ready to get back at it.” Dr. Banks nods as I continue. “My sister is coming to visit this weekend, and hopefully my dad too.”

“Are you close to your sister?”

“Not as close as we once were, but we also don’t live near each other anymore.”

That’s part of it; the other part is because after everything that happened with Gwendolyn, I knew Penelope helped her pick up the pieces and I couldn’t handle it, so I pulled away from her.

I would give anything to be close to her again. When I see the relationship Cal has with Navy, it makes me really fucking sad to be missing out on that with Penelope.

“Her coming here to visit seems like a good place to pick up where you left off, yes?” Dr. Banks asks.

“I guess, yeah. She’s staying with me for a couple of days.”

“Do you think your relationship with Penelope is strained because of the accident and her involvement with Gwendolyn’s recovery?”

Absolutely.

“Yes. I built a wall. It’s my own fault.” I seem to build a wall around everyone I care about.

“Do you think talking to her about how you feel would help mend that fence?”

“I think it’s worth trying.”

“I have to say, Bodhi, I’m impressed with your ability to open up. From my perspective, it seems you’re much harder on yourself than warranted. My advice for now would be to show yourself grace and see the things out of your control for what they are—uncontrollable. But that doesn’t make you at fault; it only puts you in a position to choose how you let it shape you.”

Damn.

Dr. Banks sounds a lot like Navy did the other night. I’ve been through enough in my life that it feels easiest to blame myself for it all. I’d much rather take the fall than Penelope or someone else I care about.

Maybe that makes me a fixer. I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, but I know I need to accept the things I can’t change and not let that reflect on the quality of my life.

I’d like Dr. Banks to reiterate that a little more.

“Can you give me an example? I understand what you mean, but again, it’s easier said than done.”

She nods, removing her glasses from her face and staring at me earnestly. “Let’s take the accident, for example. You were what, twenty-six?” Dr. Banks asks.

I nod.

“Although you were an adult, that’s still fairly young. Not to mention, the same season you unfortunately caught your mother having an affair and leaving your family. Not that drinking and driving is excusable, but I’d like to think Gwendolyn would see things the same. She was equally at fault; you just happened to be the one behind the wheel. From the amount of time we have worked together, I can gather enough to know you are a good person, Bodhi. You made a mistake. That doesn’t define you. I’m confident Gwendolyn believes that as well.”

Fuck. It hurts.

It hurts because as much as I blame myself, I know Dr. Banks is right. I wasn’t the only one drinking that night, but it’s easier to take all the blame on myself because of how badly Gwendolyn was hurt—at least what I imagine she went through.

She was my best friend and only drank with me because that’s what I asked of her as my friend. I had just found my mom in bed with my uncle, and I needed to numb the pain.

Gwendolyn didn’t ask questions—she did whatever it took for me to feel okay again.

Alcohol was the vice.

“Not gonna lie, this shit hurts, Doc. It’s like reliving it all over again.”

A smile from her creeps in. “You know what that’s called, Bodhi?”

I look to her for the answer.

“Progress. It’s called progress.”

* * *

Little P: Thirty minutes out. I gotta pee so bad.

Bodhi: There’s a toilet and Poo-pourri with your name on it.

Little P: PEE BODHI. I SAID PEE

Bodhi: It could change when you get in there.

Little P: aren’t you a delight

Bodhi: I try. Drive safe.

Little P: *middle finger emoji*

“Hey, lumber fuck.”

I chuckle. “Hey, metal queef.”

It’s a little after eight in the morning, and I’m confident Penelope’s snort just woke up the whole house. “God, I missed you, Bodhi,” she says, standing on her tippy toes and wrapping her arms around my neck.

“It’s good to see you, Penelope.”

She pulls back to look at me. “You look like shit. What happened?”

I give her a look of annoyance before grabbing her bags from her and leading her into the kitchen. “Wow. I’m really looking forward to your company, Penelope. It’s a joy to have you here,” I tease her.

“Har har. But for real, you look like you haven’t slept in months.”

I set her bags by the stairs and hand her a water bottle from the fridge. “Not months. Maybe weeks, but definitely not months.”

Except for the night Navy tucked me in after my nightmare, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Holy shit. I should have come sooner. You’re a mess.”

I am not. Okay, so I let my scruff grow out a little, and I’m still in yesterday’s clothes—what’s the big deal?

“Penelope, I don’t need another mother. Didn’t need the first one, don’t need you to be the next. I’m fine. Seriously,” I tell her kindly.

She rolls her eyes before walking up and sniffing me. “You stink.”

I chuckle. “I’ll go shower.”

She holds her hand out to stop me. “Hold on. I’ll let this go…for now.”

I nod, giving her a second to pace the bottom floor of the house and check everything out.

“Killer pool. I know where I’ll be this weekend.”

What is up with these women in my life not giving a shit how cold it is before plunging into the freezing cold water?

That’s a night with Navy I’d like to both relive and forget.

“It’s sixty degrees out.”

“Eh. You only live once, right?” She waves me off.

How are we related?

I grunt obnoxiously loud. “Were you switched at birth? There’s no way we share the same blood.”

Penelope throws her head back and laughs. “Wouldn’t that be a story to tell the kids one day?”

Having Penelope here feels right. I’ve missed her, and her being in my home, where I spend most of my time, makes me realize how much I’ve overlooked having family around.

Too bad Dad couldn’t make it.

Penelope and I have always been different—that’s no secret.

She’s fearless and lacks caution, while I’m intentional about everything and don’t do anything I haven’t spent time thinking through.

Except when it comes to a certain beautiful redhead, it seems.

“Howdy, folks!”

Speaking of said beautiful redhead—here she is.

“Woah, who’s the knockout, Bodhi?” Penelope announces, causing embarrassment to course through me.

Who invited her here anyway?

I turn to find Navy face-to-face with my sister and instantly freeze. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I move?

Penelope must catch onto my abnormal behavior because she looks at me like I have ten heads.

Oh, shit. “Penelope, this is Navy, Cal’s sister.”

Before Penelope has a chance to respond, Navy pulls her into a tight hug, lifting her small frame off the ground. “Oh my gosh, Penelope! It’s so great to finally meet you.”

Warmth. My heart feels fucking warm.

I stand back, a prisoner to my two favorite women in the world meeting for the first time.

Navy pulls back, and Penelope takes it as her sign to finally speak, but she looks at me with raised brows. “This is Navy?”

I nod because words are lost on me.

I act like I’ve never seen Navy a day in my life. What the hell is wrong with me? Even my hands are clammy.

A sly and mischievous look crosses Penelope’s face as she turns toward Navy, who waits for us to say something. “Oh, Navy…the pleasure is mine.”

Penelope cranks her head back at me and smirks.

Brat. She better not open her fucking mouth.

“That doesn’t sound promising. What have you heard?” Navy laughs, signaling for one of us to fess up.

“Nothing. She’s heard nothing,” I bite out a little more aggressively than planned.

“Testy…interesting,” Penelope mutters and shifts her attention back to Navy. “Is my brother always like this around you?”

Navy doesn’t hesitate. “Easy to annoy? Weak under pressure? Randomly silent? Yes.”

Both girls share an explosive laugh that makes me both embarrassed and pleased. This is the weirdest interaction I’ve ever had.

“I’m right here,” I call out to them from less than five feet away.

Expectedly, they ignore me.

“Navy, I think this is the beginning of a great friendship,” Penelope tells her.

I’m an outcast in my own home.

Lucky me for having an incredibly extroverted sister and secret lover. I hit the jackpot of feminine power.

“Ditto, girlfriend,” Navy responds.

It’s as if I’m not even here.

Navy leads Penelope to the kitchen, where she grabs a water for each of them. I watch in bewilderment as Penelope completely forgets about the water I grabbed for her not even five minutes ago.

The girls sit on the barstools at the kitchen island and continue their conversation, pretending like I’m nonexistent.

Okay…I guess I don’t need to show my guest where to go…she seems to fit in just fine.

“I’ll set you up in the office,” I call out to Penelope, bringing her bags to the room with a Murphy bed.

Thankfully, a text from Coach directs my attention elsewhere, putting unexpected plans on my agenda for the day.

Coach Leggins: Ladies. Hate to do this to you, but mandatory meeting in an hour. Meet in the clubhouse. Keyword: Mandatory

Shit. That doesn’t sound good.

Coach Leggins never bothers us in our offseason unless it’s serious. We finished all of our postseason press, so this is either a sudden meeting about expectations for the upcoming season or something happened.

I hope Taylor is okay.

I need to shower and head out.

Since it looks like Penelope will be perfectly fine without me, I’m comfortable leaving her with Navy while I take a few hours to go to the field.

Walking to where they sit at the kitchen island, I interrupt their conversation. “Since you seem to be fast friends, are you cool with me heading to the field for a couple of hours? Coach texted and called for a mandatory meeting.” I look to Penelope for confirmation.

“Is Taylor okay?” Navy cuts in.

My initial thought exactly.

“I don’t know. I hope so,” I tell her before Penelope speaks up. “I’m good here. Do whatever you need. I hope everything is okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I lean forward to briskly kiss Penelope on the cheek. I stop short for a moment, instinct leading me to do the same for Navy, but I don’t.

“I’ll call you on my way home. We can grab dinner.”

Penelope nods, and Navy looks my way playfully. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get lost.”

I smirk. “Thanks.”

Time to figure out what’s so important Leggins would call for a mandatory meeting this close to spring training.

I dart up the stairs to finally shower and get ready quickly. I’m in the threshold of my bedroom door when I spot something lying just outside Navy’s bedroom. Curiosity is my weakness.

I stride toward it, looking behind me to make sure no one is around.

Lipstick.

I twirl it in my hands, noting the name “Berry Dipped” as the shade.

I can picture the bold color painted perfectly across Navy’s lips.

Berry Dipped.

She owns shade after shade, yet pink is always her color of choice. This pink happens to be my favorite shade on her. I recognize it well.

Realizing I’m standing outside her bedroom door like a creep holding her coveted lipstick, I contemplate returning it to where she keeps her makeup.

Although, Navy’s room is scattered with lipstick; I remember from the last time I was in here. I’m sure she would appreciate me returning it to its proper place.

At least, that’s how I feel comfortable justifying my reason.

It likely fell out of her purse as she rushed downstairs at the sound of Penelope and me.

This is me doing something kind for my friend, who just so happens to be my roommate, and the woman I’m slightly obsessed with.

Perfectly acceptable.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I walk into her room, careful not to make enough noise to be heard downstairs. At the rate Navy and Penelope are chatting, it’s not likely they would hear a car horn in the driveway.

I’m confident I’m safe.

It smells like her in here. Her fragrance lingers in the air—eucalyptus that instantly calms me. I breathe in her signature scent and fight back a groan at the proximity I find myself to the most intimate parts of her.

The space she lays her head at night and recollects. The space she closes herself off in after a long day. And where she sketches and busies herself for hours.

I’m enamored by her.

I search Navy’s room for a basket, bin, or something that indicates lipstick lives there—nothing. Not that I would know what girls keep lipstick in, but I’d imagine it would be something of the sort.

I head toward her en suite bathroom near her closet and find the countertop littered with makeup. So much makeup I would have no idea how she uses it all and to what extent. Navy looks naturally beautiful, even with makeup.

I’d assume this means she knows how to use it well.

Not that she needs it; she’s flawless without it.

She’s exquisite.

I scan my eyes for a place to return her lipstick, but think of a better idea instead.

It seems I might be needing this, after all.

A smirk ghosts my face and I celebrate in a moment of excitement. Excitement for my plans and for the reaction Navy will surely give me.