Page 74

Kota

L ane chose Chicago.

I wasn’t sure why Bridget thought he would choose otherwise.

Five days ago, Crew and I sat on the hardwood floor beside his bedroom door, with it slightly ajar to hear the entire conversation spiraling out of control between Lane and Bridget.

I’d seen and heard Bridget cry plenty of times, but I’d never heard her like that . Her pain was tangible, lingering through the apartment until it found us hiding away in Crew’s room, eavesdropping.

Each response Bridget gave only broke Lane down further, forcing the almighty Stallions caption to crumble. I could see the torment on Crew’s face as he bit into his hand like someone just poured salt into an open wound of his.

It was scary, honestly, how a couple that had been so solid since the start of their relationship could disintegrate to a pile of dust in minutes.

We never actually heard the word “breakup,” so there was hope, at least.

However, Bridget fled the apartment, and none of us had seen her since. According to Lane, she said she was heading home. She turned her location off and still wasn’t answering her phone.

She wasn’t even answering me.

Based on the conversation we had on the phone just hours after she left, I wasn’t surprised. I’d given her my true opinion, which was that she was being hypocritical about the situation.

She didn’t like that very much.

I knew she was just hurt and that she would come around eventually. I just didn’t think it would take this long.

Last night, Crew and I had our own little date night at home. With the tournament starting today, we knew we couldn’t do anything crazy. We also didn’t want to be having an affectionate date night in front of Lane, so we stayed in my room.

We ordered Chinese food and played games, and I even got the incredible honor of watching Crew try to draw a portrait of me.

It was a stick figure of course, with one single strand of hair on each side of my face. He didn’t draw me any fingers, but I was somehow holding an ice cream cone, smiling with an absurd amount of teeth that took up half my face.

The picture was hanging up beside my desk now.

Since the boys had the tournament starting today, I was doing all the dishes from the last two or so days even though it wasn’t my turn to do them. I wanted the boys completely focused, without having anything to worry about other than their game later.

That was easier said than done though for Lane. He still wasn’t himself, still moped through the apartment, broken.

I woke up at seven when the boys did. They had morning skate, and now, Crew was taking his usual pre-game nap.

El was supposed to be coming to watch their game, so I was excited to finally meet her.

My phone was resting on the island behind me, lowly playing Taylor Swift while I muttered the lyrics to myself, hands deep in water and dish soap.

“Still no Bridget?”

Water flew up as I gave a small jump, catching a glimpse of Lane over my shoulder. Usually, I’d curse him out for nearly making me piss my pants, but he was having a hard enough time already. “No.”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No,” I sighed.

There was already such an ache in his voice alone that I was afraid of turning around to see the look on his face.

“This is just...” he breathed heavily. “This is ridiculous. She needs to come home.”

“I’ve tried, Lane,” my voice weakened. “She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Lane stomped over to the door, shoving his feet into gym shoes. “What are you doing?”

“When Crew wakes up,” he grabbed his keys off the hook, “ask him to pack my bag for me.”

My blood chilled, and I frantically dried my hands on the nearest hand towel. “Lane... where are you going?”

“To go get her,” he responded dryly.

Jaw dropping, I wasn’t sure if I should try to talk him out of it myself or scream for Crew to get up and get his ass out here. “You’re going to make the three-hour drive to Sumner right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, are you forgetting you have a game tonight? A very important game, might I add? And might I also add the fact that it’s nearly an hour away?”

“I need to do this,” he insisted, reaching for the door handle.

“Why?” I panicked.

“Because she needs to know how much I love her.”

Just like that, he disappeared out the door, and I knew I needed to do something, but I was so in shock that I couldn’t move.

Was I supposed to chase after him? Was I supposed to run to Crew? Was I supposed to contact Bridget and warn her?

Probably all three, honestly.

“Fuck!” I screamed, throwing my hands up and booking it out the door, not bothering to put shoes on.

Scouring the parking lot, I didn’t see Lane’s car anywhere. I ran back and forth through the lot like a madwoman, cursing every time I stepped on a rock.

Onto Plan B, I guess.

Wasting no time, I took the stairs, charging up them two at a time. I busted into Crew’s room.

“Crew! Crew! Wake up now! ”

He flung himself up, hair ruffled wearing nothing but his boxers. Spinning around himself like he was looking for danger, he huffed. “What?!”

“Lane is gone.”

“What?”

“Lane is gone. He just left to go find Bridget.”

Crew rubbed his eyes, confused. “Doesn’t she live like hours away?”

“Yes. Why else do you think I’m freaking out?”

Bringing his fingertips to his chin, he stared at me calmly. “So, you’re saying,” he paused, “that Lane, the most responsible person I’ve ever met, just left to go drive around the state when we have one of the most important games of our lives today?”

My voice turned stern, teeth clenching. Apparently, I needed to spell it out for him. “Yes.”

“Fuck!” he shouted, tearing through his pillow and comforters in search of his phone. “Alright, I’m gonna call him. Try to get a hold of Bridget. Maybe she can call him and convince him to turn around.”

“Alright,” I nodded, dashing out of his room to find my phone on the countertop, playing “my tears ricochet”.

Well, that certainly fit the vibe today.