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“It’s not okay,” he bellows. “You have a lump. Fuck.” Gray stumbles back, his hip hitting a shelf and sending brooms clattering to the floor like matchsticks. “Fuck! I can’t…” He grabs the ends of his hair and clutches them as he stumbles backward to the door. “Can’t breathe.”
“Gray!”
But he’s wrenching the door open. “I can’t do this again.”
Before I can say another word, he flees. Gone so fast, I swear I feel the air stir. And I’m left alone, wondering what the hell just happened.
Twenty-Five
Ivy
It’s scary how quickly life can turn to shit. One second, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. The next, your head is spinning and your heart is a bleeding wound within your chest. Thirteen hours after Gray’s complete meltdown, I’m still reeling. And I can’t find him. He’s just gone.
Though hurt at Gray’s abandonment, I did as he asked. I’d swallowed back the urge to cry or rant and went to see the on-call doctor. One exam and a few tests later, I have my answers and am free to walk out of the clinic on legs that feel wooden and uncoordinated.
Standing on the sidewalk, I stare blankly at the parking lot. My brain has gone on vacation or something, because I can’t seem to process what I’ve been told. The results were not what I’d expected, not at all. In the distance, my little pink Fiat shines like a beacon. I focus on it, trying to bring my thoughts to order. Gray. I need to find him. I need him.
Hot rage surges up my throat, and I grind my teeth against the urge to scream. He left me. Ran away. And I know why, I do. It doesn’t stop the anger. Especially now.
I look down at the papers I’m clutching. My hand shakes a little, and I draw in a deep breath of cold December air.
Jamming the papers in my purse, I fish out my phone. The shaking has stopped, replaced by a steely determination that makes my muscles strain. Dialing, I start striding to my car.
Drew answers on the third ring.
“It’s Ivy.” My throat feels like raw meat. “I can’t find Gray.”
It’s hard telling Drew the whole, shitty story. But he needs to know why Gray took off so he can help me track him down.
“Hell,” Drew says when I finish. “I think I know where he might have gone. Let me talk to him, okay?”
“You do that.” It amazes me how calm I sound. When inside, I’m falling apart.
“Ivy.” Drew hesitates. “You have to understand—”
“I do,” I cut in. “Doesn’t make it right.”
“No,” he agrees slowly.
I sigh, wrenching open my car door. “Just let me know when you find him. I…” My voice almost breaks. I keep it together with sheer force of will. “I need to talk to him.”
“Will do,” Drew says quietly. Then hangs up.
Sitting in the little car that still carries Gray’s scent, I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel. My nails dig into the puffy, pink grips as my breathing accelerates. I won’t cry. I won’t. But a sob breaks free.
I cry myself dry in the car where it all began.
* * *
Gray
I’ve got to go back. I need Ivy, and Ivy needs me. But I can’t seem to make myself move. I’ve been working out for hours, until my body gave out on me. Sitting on the floor of the team-gym showers isn’t productive, but the scent of bleach and deodorant is familiar. Safe.
It’s quiet now, the gym long since closed. So I sit, curled up in a corner, asking myself what the fuck I’m doing. No answers come. Only this sick, fucked-up fear and the need to curl in on myself and shut everything out.
Some distant voice in my head tells me I’m losing my shit in a big, bad way. On the field, I’m a fighter. I never give up. I have got to get my head in this. But everything is silent, numb.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
I jump at the voice. My head is heavy as a rock when I lift it to find Drew in the doorway. I can’t seem to say a word. His cast thuds on the floor as he walks over. Slowly, he lowers himself next to me, his broken leg stretched out in front of him.
He doesn’t say anything, just sits close enough to press his shoulder against mine. And I remember. The night his parents died, I’d hunted him down, found him in the locker room of his school gym. I’d sat with him as he quietly lost it on my shoulder.
The memory works like a ball snap. All the terror and panic I’d been holding down rushes up. “Fuck,” I choke out, pressing my fists against my forehead as I bring my knees to my chest. “Fuck.”
Drew’s shoulder pushes harder against mine. “What’s going on, Gray?”
There’s a clump of pain inside my throat the size of a baseball. I push past it. “Ivy. She had a lump…” I take a harsh breath. “On her… And I remembered Mom. When she told me about the lump and how she— Fuck.”
I can’t breathe. I’m choking on my fear, my body shuddering. I don’t know when Drew put his arm around my shoulders. But he’s hugging me to his side. And it all pours out of me in the form of tears and snot. Not my best moment.
But Drew doesn’t care. He remains silent and lets me do what I need to.
“I can’t do this with Ivy,” I rasp. “I can’t see her…” Shit, I’m going to lose it again.
Drew’s grip goes hard. “You don’t know what’s going on with Ivy.”
I don’t, because I can’t handle knowing. But I can’t seem to handle not knowing, either. I have never run from adversity, and yet I just walked out on the most important person in my life. The thought makes me sick. “I’ve screwed this up badly.”