Page 34 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Twenty-Three

LILA

I can’t stop thinking about that forehead kiss.

It felt like a goodbye.

He’s been avoiding me all afternoon, and I can’t blame him. I know it was a lie, we’re not nothing , but I’m scared. I don’t want to get hurt, and he’s intense, my emotions are intense. It’s easier to shut them away and enjoy the hunky athlete than to process everything else in my head.

I’ve been sitting in the game room trying to read for the past thirty minutes—Katie’s Gossip Girl marathon abandoned in the fresh light of day—when Maggie’s voice calls out from the entryway.

“Sorry I’m late, but I brought donuts!”

I follow the sound of her heels into the kitchen and grab a donut from the Krispy Kreme box on the counter.

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” I ask, taking a bite of the glazed goodness.

She shrugs. “It was pretty nice.”

“What’d you do?”

“Don’t tell Theo. He can get weirdly older-brothery, but I’ve kind of been seeing someone,” she almost whispers, eyes darting to the doorway as if to check for said brother listening around the corner.

I squeal.

“Shhhhh!” She laughs. “I’m not ready to introduce him yet, but I like him a lot, so we spent the evening just the two of us. It was really romantic.”

“That sounds so sweet. Can’t you give me any more details?”

She shakes her head, giggling as Cal walks into the kitchen, carrying his duffle bag.

“Cal, hi. Donut?” Maggie offers.

“I’m okay, thanks.” His eyes don’t meet mine, and I feel rush of excitement that followed his entrance into the room vanish.

“Are you leaving?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from giving away the sudden emptiness inside my chest.

“Yeah, the o-line coach just called for an emergency film session tomorrow morning, so I need to head out. Theo can give you a ride back to the city.” His expression is guarded, and I don’t think he’d lie, but I can’t help but feel like he’s running away from me.

“Can we talk before you leave, please?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound as desperate as I feel.

He gestures for me to follow him from the kitchen.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asks, once we’re outside.

“You know what I want to talk about.”

He says nothing, putting his bag in the trunk.

“Cal, come on.”

“What do you want me to say, Lila?” he bursts out.

“I feel like I’ve made my intentions pretty clear.

And I meant what I said, that we could go slow and if you needed time that was okay, but I can’t do this back-and-forth thing.

You can’t throw yourself at me and then say we don’t mean anything. ” I shrink back as his words hit me.

“I’m not trying to do that?—”

“I know. I’m not, like, mad at you. But I think you need to make sure you know what you want, and if that’s me, great, and if it’s not, fine, but you need to figure it out.”

I stare at him, unsure what to say to all that.

“I really do have practice,” he says after several seconds of silence, his face softening slightly.

I nod. “Okay.”

He hesitates, as if unsure whether to hug me, but must decide against it, because he gets in his car and drives away without ever looking back.

I’m practically catatonic for the rest of the day. Maggie has to ask the same question three times before I finally hear her over the noise in my own head.

“Are you okay?” Katie asks, cornering me after a dinner of Chinese takeout while Maggie and Theo are arguing in the other room over which Die Hard is objectively the best. “We never really talked about what happened when you guys got stranded, and you seemed so happy and cuddly I just assumed . . . but then he left.”

“I think I fucked up.”

“Explain.”

“Well, I uh . . .” I start, unsure how to continue. She lets me sit with it, and a few minutes later it comes pouring out of me, every last detail until I’m nearly gasping out his goodbye.

“It’ll be okay.” She pulls me in for a hug and holds tight.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” I say, the despair in my voice evident. “I really like him, but I’m scared. What if it gets bad again? Like with Dennis? What if I’m the one who’s toxic and ruining it? I’m too old to start over again when it doesn’t work out in a year.”

She pulls away, her gaze intense. “First of all, don’t let your mother get in your head. You’re not on anyone’s timeline but your own. Second, you’re not toxic, that was all Dennis all on his own. And third, why do you think it won’t work out?”

“Katie, he’s an NFL player. I work in consulting. What can anyone really expect out of us being together?”

“So, you’re both busy and successful? Sounds like a power couple to me,” she jokes.

“You saw the other women at the game. They’re all models or athletes, I clearly don’t fit in. And everyone but Cal seems to notice it. Eventually he will too.” I shrug.

“News flash. No one actually cares.” I blink, shocked, and her voice softens. “Babe, he likes you. Does he really seem so shallow that he’d throw you away for no reason?”

“I mean, not yet. But what if I just haven’t seen that side of him yet?” I cross my arms, providing a physical barrier between myself and this conversation.

“Don’t self-sabotage this by making up his reactions in your head years before they happen.

That’s crazy, you know that right?” She raises an eyebrow at me, and I feel like I’m losing the point of why I’m upset somewhere.

She’s twisting my words because there’s no way that’s actually what I’m doing. Right?

“But—"

“No, it’s certifiably insane. I should check you into RUSH this afternoon.” She clicks her tongue, and I nearly laugh, coming back up out of my spiral to reality.

“You’re probably right,” I sigh.

“Can you get that engraved on a plaque?” She teases, grinning at me.

“Oh, shut up.” I knock her shoulder.

“Come on, if we’re lucky we can sneak the remote back and finish season two of Gossip Girl .” I laugh, as she grabs two pints of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked from the freezer.

Theo is overruled by three women, and with Gossip Girl season two on the big screen, he’s pretending to pout in the corner while his eyes are glued to Chuck’s every move. I move to sit next to him.

“Is he okay?” I ask tentatively.

His jaw clenches.

“Lila, what do you want from him?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want from him? Out of this, whatever it is you’ve been doing?”

“I uh—" I stammer.

“I think you need to figure that out before you talk to him again.”

“That’s not fair, Theo.”

“Isn’t it?” He snaps.

“You know what I’ve been going through with Dennis and everything. I didn’t want to just jump into something.”

“But is that something you want? Or are you just along for the ride for now?”

“I care about him.”

He takes a deep breath, as if he’s praying for patience.

“Look, he’s serious about you. So, if you’re not serious about him you need to tell him that. Because I can’t watch him get dragged over the coals just because you can’t make up your mind or won’t.”

“Okay,” I say quietly, sinking back into the couch.

“I think you’re good for him, and Katie seems to think he can make you happy if you’d let him try. But you have to try too, ya know?”

“Yeah.”

He nods once, and we lapse into silence. I lose myself in the plot as my mind processes in the background.

Maybe I just need to talk to him. Theo’s right, it’s not fair to him to drag him along if I’m not sure, but why am I not sure?

Is Katie right? Am I just self-sabotaging?

I think back over the last few weeks, realizing with utter certainty that some of the most fun I’ve had, the times I’ve been the happiest and freest, have been with Cal.

I groan. It’s too new. I don’t know him very well, and these are all feelings I haven’t felt in a very long time, if I’ve ever felt them at all.

Love is stupid. But I want it, and I think I want to try it with Johnathan Callahan Basset, even if he dumps me in six months for a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model.

We drive back early Saturday, and the following morning I pull on Cal’s jersey tentatively—I have it, so I might as well wear it when he plays—and rush to meet Katie. She’d insisted last minute on watching at Cornerside, which was fine by me.

The game against Dallas is largely uneventful but evenly matched.

The powerhouse defense manages to hold the Avalanche to only two field goals while we’ve given up a touchdown.

More interesting than two teams who can barely get past their respective forty-yard lines is Katie, completely invested in some hockey talk show playing on one of the other TVs.

“What are you watching?”

“The center forward has a shoulder injury, they’re not sure he’ll play in the game on Saturday and it’s against Detroit.” She’s worrying her bottom lip, and I can’t help but laugh.

She glares at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I gasp out. “You just honestly care about hockey now?”

Her eyes narrow. “So, what if I do?”

“I’m just surprised. After all the shit you’ve given me about following football, all it took was a brooding hockey player to sway you to the dark side.”

She pointedly ignores me, and I laugh.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Katie? I told you we should’ve come up with a code in grad school, but no.

You said, and I quote, ‘Lila if someone is impersonating me it should be easy enough to figure out. Who could possibly live up to the impossible standard I set in life, and if I’ve been abducted, my mother always said she was never worried since I’d be dropped back off in under eight hours. ’”

She flushes and elbows me hard in the ribs.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I think it’s kind of nice you’re getting more into sports. Do I wish it was the sport I already watch and pay attention to? Sure.” She rolls her eyes. “But still, it’s always fun to have another woman on the team.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, just eat your cheese curds.”

I pop one into my mouth to appease her and turn back to the game, only for my grin to slide off as I see what’s on the screen.

The game, with only three minutes left in the final quarter is running a replay of the last play, before a final pass is thrown.

A Hail Mary throw on the fourth down straight into Cal’s outstretched hands as he lands in the end zone.

The bar explodes around me with cheers, and I scream along with them.

Never one for flashy celebrations, he hands the ball to the refs as the crowd goes wild.

The camera pans back to Cal, and I smile.

That’s my man.

Well, maybe not yet, but he will be by tonight.

I turn to Katie. “Do you have trench coat I can borrow?”

She eyes me warily. “Am I going to actually want it back afterwards?”

“Uhm, probably not?”

“Ew, fine. You owe me one for Christmas, though.”

I hug her as we head out of the bar. “You got it.”

“And you have to help me pick out a dress.”

I snort. “You’ve never once actually needed my opinion on clothes, just validation.”

“Well, this is different. I want to make a good impression without being too much .”

“Katie, you’re never too much. And if someone told you that you were, give me their address.”

“I still want your opinion. Please? It’s basically in the best friend handbook, you have to help.” She pouts at me until I roll my eyes.

“Going somewhere nice?”

She shrugs.

“Katherine?” I press. “At least tell me who we’re making a good impression on?”

“Axel’s taking me out, okay? It’s our first official date.”

“That’s the guy you were talking to at Cal’s, right?”

“Yup,” she accentuates the p sound with delight.

“Where’s he taking you?”

“I’m not sure.” She frowns. “He said it was a surprise.”

“We’ll find the right thing,” I assure her.

She’s tried on approximately thirty-five dresses by this point, and I’m growing faint with hunger as I lay cross ways on her bed, scrolling social media.

“Can you button me? I think this is the one.”

She comes out of her walk-in closet in a black sheath dress that fits her perfectly and turns with her back to me. I do up the two buttons at the top of the neck.

“You’re right, this one’s perfect.”

She twirls in the mirror and checks the time.

“Shit, he’s picking me up in twenty minutes. I have to finish getting ready.”

“You got this, I have my own man to woo tonight.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she laughs.

“The jacket’s in the hall closet, just make sure you shut the door behind you.”

I nod, squeezing her shoulders on my way out of her bedroom.

“And good luck!” she calls out after me.

“You too!”