Chapter Twenty-Six

Aaron

 

“That’s not the look of someone who’s happy, Aaron.” Ambar’s observation was not alone. My thoughts traveled too fast for me to clasp onto one idea. Greta’s dark brown eyes were dull and her face looked off without a hint of a smile. An uncomfortable pit formed in my stomach before I remembered her words. She wants space. She wants fucking Tony.

“We came here for a reason. Let’s get to it.” I didn’t dislike Ambar, but I didn’t like her either. It was an odd combo, but she had a purpose. “I want to get this over with.”

“She thought we were together.” Her voice dropped and I mentally rolled my eyes. “She looked like she was crying.”

“She wasn’t. Greta… Let’s just forget about that.” I grabbed our drinks and sat in an abandoned booth. “Thank you for meeting me the Saturday before the holiday.”

“Yeah. No worries. I live in town.” She pulled out a spiral notebook and placed it on the grungy table. “Before we start, what made you want to do this? I thought you were out with the bros tonight.”

“It was suggested to me and if I have to do it, I’d rather control it the best I can. And I had a drink with them—I just didn’t want to partake in their actions tonight.” My body was as stiff as a board. Every part of me hated the idea of doing an interview, but my brain overrode them. Coach said it was a learning experience about media.

‘Either control what you can or deal with it. If you give one full-access interview, then people will back off. But it’s your choice, kid.’

“Fair enough. How did you hear about me?”

“I asked around for an unbiased, not psycho journalist. Your name came up.” And she hasn’t slept with anyone on the team or looked at me with crazy eyes.

“I appreciate that—but we both know you had other reasons. It’s all the same. Where do you want to start? We have a couple angles here—your baseball career, your dad, or your relationship with Greta that gained a lot of popularity on campus.”

“They’re all connected.” I gripped my large glass of beer. “It began with my dad’s diagnosis. No, before then. Shit.” I sighed. “This is harder than I thought. Do you have questions for me?”

“I can ask some, but this interview is about you. A feature on our campus’ troubled playboy. What direction we go is your call. Now, what’s your goal from this?”

“To tell the truth. Plain and simple, no bullshit.”

“Then let’s cut to the chase. The pictures.”

“Christ, I guess that’s where it all kind of started.” I cracked my knuckles and a deep, inexplicable calm took over me. The truth will set you free. And that was what I wanted. “After those pictures came out, I needed to clean up my reputation.”

“And that’s where Greta came in?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “She was my closest friend, best friend, since I came to school here. She didn’t give a shit I played baseball or treat me any different after I told her about my dad’s diagnosis.”

“Sounds awesome. You started dating shortly after the pictures? That created a lot of buzz.”

“Yeah. Simple, really. We hung out all the time, so we threw a label on it to keep attention on us rather than my wild excursions. We have followers online—it was easy enough. We agreed nothing would change.” The pang in my heart hadn’t left since the night after the charity event. I was almost used to a piece of me missing constantly, but talking about it hurt. “We promised to always stay friends.”

“What was in this for Greta? I’m curious. Our female readers will want to know.” She clicked the pen three times and I focused on the question. What was in it for her?

She’d told me it would prevent her from making bad decisions about guys. But that wasn’t solid enough. She’d just had a rough patch. So, why did she?

“I think… Greta has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. She didn’t view it as getting something out of it—”

“You honestly don’t think she used you for fame? Cleat chasers are pretty well known. Some would say she was the ultimate chaser.” Her pen stopped and she arched one eyebrow almost to her hairline.

Anger flashed through me. “Greta is nothing like a cleat chaser. She helped me out because she’s loyal as hell, one of the best people I know, and can make a selfish, fucked-up guy like me feel like a million bucks.”

That shut her up real good. Her fingers shook a little at my aggression, but she received the message. “Any more questions about Greta?”

“No. I have enough to write about.” She took a long sip of her drink and I felt a little bad. I backtracked.

“Look—I had no intentions of ever falling in love. If that’s what happened. I never made time for anyone besides her and my life isn’t the same without her. I got so used to seeing her every day with all her energy and compassion. At some point, it turned real, but I never told her. I behaved like a typical asshole and made sure to remind her constantly it was fake—but I think it was how I coped with it.” I rubbed both palms in my eyes, trying to erase the picture of Greta’s crestfallen face as she’d flown out of there. Give her space.

“Wow.” Ambar smiled. “You got it bad, man. This will be an awesome piece to write. Emotional and statistical.”

“Statistical?”

“Yeah. We need to talk baseball now. Your past, present and future goals. You’re rumored to be drafted, along with the rest of your testosterone-filled house. Is that okay?”

“Sure. I live for the sport. Tell me when to stop talking.” And I began from the very beginning, when I knew baseball was for me. It wasn’t until an hour later that we left the bar. She promised she would let me read the draft before she published it and I trusted her. It was something about her. I hoped I didn’t regret it.

I headed back to the house, my mood worsening each minute. The relief from the interview was short-lived. I couldn’t get Greta out of my mind. My chest tightened and I thought about her texts.

Why couldn’t I tell her I’d sent the gift the day before she ended it? Why couldn’t I have fought harder, told her how I felt? Because I’m a dumbass. I’m not a good bet.

Beer. I needed a beer and a diversion from my mental scolding. And it was the first thing I grabbed when I walked into the house.

“Dude, why you here tonight?” Jeff plopped onto the kitchen chair with a stupid grin. “I figured you’d be out going wild with your new freedom.”

“Nah.” I thought about how to answer. Tanner must not have told everyone. Damn. “Just wanted to hang here.”

“Good for you. You don’t look happy, though. I told you going to talk to Ambar Henderson was a bad idea. What’s up, man?” Jeff and his damn inquisition. He could always read a mood, but never had jack shit to help it. His use of her name would normally have piqued my interest. But not tonight.

“Greta and I… We didn’t end on the best terms.” There. That was sort of the truth. “You know how close we are.”

“That sucks ass, man. I’m sure it’ll get back to normal. It has to be hard faking a relationship for that long. Give her some time.” He smiled, like his suggestion was the best fucking advice in the world. My friends are idiots.

“Sure.” I took a long swig of beer, emptying half the bottle. “Wanna play some Madden?”

“Hells, yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Why are you here?” I asked him as we sat on the couch. “You’re trying the relationship thing, right?”

“Dude, I can’t do it. There’s too many options. It’s rough. Like, if you’re at a buffet, you wouldn’t settle for one food, right? Women are like that. I can’t just choose the orange chicken if there’s beef and broccoli, sweet and sour chicken and kung pow chicken. You know?”

“Holy shit.” I howled with laughter. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Makes sense, though. Laugh if you want. But I’ve known you to eat an entire buffet in a week’s time. You better not judge me, Hilly.” He powered on the game and tossed me a controller. “You’re going down, fuck face.”

“Whatever.” But the idea of competition had my blood pumping. I welcomed it. And an hour later, I had one game on Jeff, but the pain in my chest hadn’t really lessened. “Suck it, I won.”

“God. I hate this shit.” He paused and flipped me off. “Fuck you.”

I laughed. “Sucks to suck.”

“Why are we even here? Let’s go get laid.” He tossed the controller, but I didn’t join him when he stood. “Are you coming or what?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. I’m not up for it.”

“Don’t be lame. You’re single. Lonely… We’re playing videogames on a Saturday night. You’ve been celibate for, what, months?”

Someone cleared their throat and Callie appeared in the room. Shit. Shit. Shit. “That’s right. You’ve been celibate.”

“That was part of the deal, right?” Jeff asked, confusion dripping in his tone. “Did you sleep around on Greta?”

“No—I didn’t,” I said between clenched teeth. I glared at Callie, but she didn’t back down. Nope. Not her.

She persisted. She moved to stand directly in front of me. “Why aren’t you up for getting some ass? You always get the best-looking gals. Why the hold-up, Hilly?”

“Let it go, Callie,” I warned.

But she stood her ground and jutted her chin out. Jeff had no fucking idea what was happening, but I didn’t give a shit. This didn’t involve him. “You make a better window than a wall, Callie.”

“Good one, but we aren’t nine years old. Man up, Aaron.” She crossed her arms. Her pursed red lips matched her dress and my thoughts went straight to the charity event. God. Greta.

“I’m man enough. When you’re tired of Zade, come find me,” I snapped.

“Asshole,” Zade replied behind me. “That’s a neck.” And he slapped the back of my head. “I’ll punch your pretty face if you say that to my girl again. I’ll forgive you because I know you’re a miserable sack of shit right now.”

“I’m not miserable.” Liar. Idiot.

“Wait—why are you miserable?” Jeff decided to join in. The more the fucking merrier.

“Hilly, I need to tell you something and you’re going to listen.”

Her tone alarmed me. “Okay. Is Greta okay?”

A brief smile appeared before she shook her head. “Yeah, physically she’s fine. But I’ve sat by idly long enough. It’s not my business but neither of you are happy. She lied about Tony.”

“Wait—what?”

“Greta came over here a couple weeks ago and happened to overhear a conversation between you and Tanner.” Her brow furrowed as she waited for me to comprehend her words. I couldn’t think past the fact Greta had lied. If there was no Tony…

“Why did she lie?”

“Dude, piece it together. What did you and Tanner talk about that day?” Zade cut in and joined Callie in front of the damn TV. They reminded me of parents looking after their kid. And I was the kid. “Hilly!”

“Shit, sorry. We uh… Fuck.” It hit me. “No. No way. She…she heard it wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Jeff asked and I didn’t have patience to explain shit. I waved him off.

“She heard exactly what you said, both of you. Imagine if you’d heard that.”

“Heard what? Guys. Fill me in.”

I froze. ‘It’s just fucking’… Oh my god. “She lied. Because of me.”

“Yes. Why else would she lie about Tony? She was protecting herself, Aaron.” Her frown deepened and she grabbed my wrist. “Go talk to her.”

“Someone explain to me what the fuck is going on!” Jeff yelled.

“It became real with Greta, okay? I need to go!” I shouted.

It took all of two seconds to jump into gear. Heart racing, palms sweating, chest heaving. I forgot to grab a jacket. Before I stormed out of there, I picked Callie up and squeezed her. “Thank you—so fucking much.”

“Go get our girl!”

Raw hope flowed through me. Not unlike the feeling I got when my dad’s tumor was shrinking. It was like someone had lifted a weight off my chest and breathing became easier. I couldn’t drive fast enough. The goddamn stop signs had me sweating. We still have a chance!

The ten minutes seemed like an hour, and I slammed it into Park before flying up the stairs. I knocked—I pounded the door so loud it hurt my wrist. “Greta! Open up, please!”

But only silence remained. I called her five times, each one going to voicemail.

Where the hell is she?