Page 113 of Falling Offsides

“No,” I say, shifting to the edge of the bench. “I can’t. I can’t take any more advantage of you than I already have.”

Courtney rolls her eyes, a silent not-this-bullshit-again. “And if I want you to?”

“Trust me, Princess, you don’t.”

“I do,” Courtney retorts, her voice hoarse but steady. So sure even though she has no clue of all the reasons she’s wrong. “Fine, whatever… have it your way. Just stop pretending that you’re so obsessed with me. Like you want me so damn bad when you don’t. As if you can’t stay away from me even though you’re the one that draws a line when we get too close to something.”

“There is no fucking line, Courtney!” Her nose flares with her sharp breath, ready to argue back. Before she has a chance, I clear my throat and tell her, “There is no line I won’t cross for you. That I haven’t crossed just to be near you. To have every part of you I can get my hands on… set my sights on. You want to know how I fucking know everything about you?”

The only reply I get is her stilted breaths and rounded eyes. She’s rapt with my unraveling.

“I watch you. Every chance I get. At work. At home. I can’t fucking stop.”

The tension pinching her face eases, relaxing her jaw. “You watch me. At home.”

Her stare is on mine. Unmoving. I’ve never seen her this still.

I can’t fucking read her.

Then she asks, quietly, far too calmly, “How? How do you watch me at home? In my apartment?”

“Matheo had doggie cams installed and…” When her mouth opens, I pause. But then she says nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. And my fucking insides are screaming. My thoughts are tearing themselves apart while I burn from the inside out. “It was only meant to be a one-time thing. Just to make sure you were okay after I… I nailed your head with the puck… and then I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t… I?—”

“Oh,” she whimpers again, her face soft but twisted at the same time.

I don’t know what that means.

“Court…”

“Okay,” she says, voice pitched and shaky. “Okay…”

“Okay?” Courtney does not lookokay. Her face is paler than ever while she continues looking at me too impassively.

“Okay,” she repeats, clearing her throat before throwing back the rest of her frozen drink. I think she’s wishing it was the real deal now that she’s pushing her eyes back into their sockets from the brain freeze. “Fuck.”

I don’t know what to say. What to do. I’m struck dumb going through all the different ways I could have delivered the truth to make it hit differently.

“I need…” Courtney says, edging forward, I don’t get a chance to get upand let her out of the booth before she climbs across me, and stands looking at me.

I think I’ve broken her. Not a sound comes out of her mouth the several times she opens and closes it.

Until I start to stand and she holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. “I need a moment. I need a… fuck…”

That’s all Courtney says before she reaches across the table and grabs her backpack, hitching it onto her shoulder as she scurries towards the bathroom.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…fuuuuuuck!”

What do I do now?

WhatcanI do?

I fucked up from the beginning, and now she’s probably trying to find a way to escape the bars outside the bathroom window. Probably trying to figure out a way to get away from me as fast as she can.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, staring at the awful concoction she ordered for me. Lime and mint sprout from the crushed ice doused in sugar and club soda. Even though I know I hate it, I suck it up as fast as I can. Allowing the brain freeze to curdle through the storm raging in my skull.

All I can picture is the shock on Courtney’s face. The color drain from her soft skin. Her eyes bugging.

It’s been way more than a moment when I check my phone. North of ten minutes when I check it again. And then when it hits short of a half hour it becomes abundantly clear that Courtney’s not coming back to the booth. Maybe she’s already snuck out.