Page 24 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Sixteen

CAL

I ’m playing GTA, when there’s a knock on my door. I grumble, glancing at the clock hanging in the kitchen. It’s not exactly late, but it’s later than is socially acceptable for randomly dropping by.

I don’t have the energy for real people tonight, thanks to the three missed calls and one unanswered voicemail from my father after the photo of Lila in my jersey surfaced this morning.

I pull the lock and open the door, “Theo, what do you possibly . . .” and trail off, stunned. Because it’s not Theo standing at my door but Lila.

Lila with a suitcase.

“What—are you okay?” One question trumps the other as I take in her swollen, red eyes.

She shrugs.

“Erm, do you want to come in?” I stand back, opening the door wider, as she walks past me leaving her suitcase at the door before heading straight to the couch and sitting as if in a trance. I shut the door and pick up the gaming headset.

“Hey, guys, I gotta go.” I disconnect from the call and shut off the console before gingerly sitting on the other end of the couch from her.

“Can I get you anything?”

She shakes her head.

“Lila, what’s wrong?” I ask more urgently, a slight panic beginning in my chest.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” A small tear escapes down her cheek, and I hate myself for asking.

“Hey, it’s okay. You can be here, it’s fine. You just seem, uhm, not yourself, so if you need something, please tell me.”

“Katie didn’t answer, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

Pride blooms in my chest as I realize she considers me that close of a friend, before again reminding myself that I’d be happier if she wasn’t upset like this to begin with.

She curls herself into a ball on her end of the sectional, and I cringe, glancing around in a panic for literally anything that could comfort her.

I settle on a blanket draped artfully over the chair in the corner.

It’s fluffy and soft, nothing I would’ve chosen for myself, but my mother gave it to me as a housewarming gift when I moved into my New York condo.

It made the move to Chicago with me, and if I’m honest with myself, it is awfully nice for those chilly fall days when you don’t want to turn the heat on yet.

I drape it over her shoulders, and after a second thought, I grab her a bottle of water from the kitchen and the entire box of tissues. I set them gingerly on the table in front of her before sinking onto the cushion next to her. I run my hands over my thighs nervously, trying not to stare at her.

“You can play your game.” She sniffs. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your night.”

“How about we watch something?” I offer.

She shrugs.

“What are you in the mood for?” I turn on Netflix, flipping through some options, trying to gauge any level of reaction, but she stares blankly at the screen. “A rom-com, maybe?”

“No,” she says sharply.

“Right, no rom-coms.” I scroll past that section.

“How about Lion King ?”

She snorts. “I was thinking more Star Wars .”

I gape at her. “ Star Wars ?”

“Yeah, preferably the original trilogy.”

I snort. “Coming right up.”

I press play on A New Hope and settle in.

“Popcorn?”

Another shrug. Popcorn sounds good to me though now that I’ve put it in the universe, so I throw a bag in the microwave. I wait for it to finish popping before dumping the whole bag into a big bowl and setting it down in front of us on the table.

“It’s over, for real this time,” Lila bursts out suddenly about thirty minutes in, and I actually jump, so invested in the movie already. The originals are some of my favorites.

“You and Dennis?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

She swallows, pushing herself up to sit properly on the cushions. “He saw the photo of me at the game. In your jersey.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t really think about it.” It’s a lie. I definitely thought about it, but the guilt creeps up my throat as I see the pain I caused her, all for the brief vindication of seeing her in my name and number.

“It’s not your fault, Cal. And it’s been coming for a while I think.”

“Maybe so, but it can still suck.” She gives me a small smile.

“Yeah, it does.”

She turns back to the movie, and a moment later, I mirror her.

“What am I even doing ?”

I startle at her tone. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just starting from scratch at thirty-three.

I don’t have time to fuck around anymore, you know?

My sister’s having a baby, and all I can do is fight with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend , and work and jump around at football games.

What am I doing with my life, Cal?” She looks so sad I can’t resist wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into my chest. She shudders, and I almost release her until she sinks into me and starts sobbing.

I rub soothing circles on her back as she cries, her tears soaking my t-shirt.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I repeat quietly as Luke and Obi Wan watch Leia’s request for help on the screen behind her.

Lila eventually quiets, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns her body slightly to watch the movie and snuggles into me her hand clutching the fabric of my shirt and my arm still draped across her shoulder.

I can’t keep my eyes off her, and before I know it, the credits start rolling, and she speaks again.

“I don’t think I can do another action movie.”

“Alright,” I say cautiously. “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” she nearly wails.

“What do you normally watch to decompress?”

“True Crime. I’m really into the podcasts on cold cases.” I blink at her, because what the fuck?

“Okay, well that might not be ideal right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” She laughs. “What about you? What do you watch to relax?”

I shrug. “Uhm, whale documentaries usually.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I try to keep my expression neutral, but I know it’s a bit quirky. But what can I say? I like the big swimmers.

“They have that many?”

“There are a lot of different kinds of whales, Lila.”

“Well, far be it from me to judge right now. I’ll try it.”

“Seriously?” I echo her earlier words.

“Show me the whales.”

I chuckle and put one on featuring belugas, one of my favorites, even if they’re not technically whales.

She leans back into me, her grip on my shirt easier. It’s a short film, but after only a few minutes I realize her breathing has slowed into a deep, even cadence.

I ease her off me and back onto the couch and stare down at her for a moment.

Should I wake her up? I decide against it and pick her up carefully, trying not to jostle her too much and carry her down the hall to my guest room.

Setting her gently on the bed, I drape the blanket over her and plug in her phone, setting an alarm for the morning in case she’s going into work.

After a moment’s hesitation, I grab an extra t-shirt from my closet and put it on the nightstand next to a bottle of water.

“Goodnight, Lila,” I say softly, leaning over her to press a kiss to her forehead.

I close the door to my own room quietly and fall into my own bed, my emotions warring with themselves, even as I drift off into sleep with a smile on my face.