We lie on the floor in my room. Chloe must have grabbed the pillows off the bed at some point because there’s one behind my head as I stare up to the ceiling.
I’ve been pouring my guts out to the point I should probably be embarrassed, but I can’t seem to stop. All the things I’ve held onto about my dad and the guilt I feel, I share those with her because she’s here and for the first time I believe she’s not going anywhere.
“Wanna know what the worst part is?”
She nods, the slightest tilt of her head in the darkness.
“It’s my fault he’s dead.”
Her eyes widen and then her brows pull together in confusion.
“About an hour before it happened, we got into a big fight. I’d blown off school to go to the lake with friends, which was bad enough, but I didn’t have cell service so when the school called Mom to tell her I wasn’t there, no one could find me. They’d thought the worst. Mom was in tears when I finally made it home and Dad was so pissed. I’d never seen him so mad.”
“They were worried about you.”
I nod. “Yeah, and I knew I was in the wrong, but my hot head couldn’t own up to it, so I yelled back and then stormed out and went to my buddy’s house. Last time I ever saw him.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“If I hadn’t skipped school or if I’d just stuck around and been there…” I let myself imagine all the possibilities.
“It wasn’t your fault. People argue and they say things they don’t mean. He knew you loved him.”
My eyes burn, and I swallow a lump in my throat. I guess that’s the root of the issue. Did he die thinking I was an ungrateful punk who only cared about himself?
The wound is already open, so I keep going, sharing the darkest parts of me. “Ever since he died, I have these awful dreams. It’s that night except I don’t go to my buddy’s house. My dad and I are sitting together in the living room watching TV. There’s a baseball game on and he’s glued to the screen and I know it’s coming—I know he’s about to have a heart attack, so I try and warn him, but it’s like I’m not really there. I start off calm but then I get frantic until I’m screaming and waving in front of him, but he can’t see or hear me.”
Chloe squeezes my hand. Her slim fingers intertwine with mine between us. She hasn’t spoken since I started talking. Just listens and holds my hand to let me know she’s here.
“When I come to, I have to remind myself he’s already dead. In the dream, he’s alive. I always wake up before he dies so for a few seconds I think it was all just a bad dream. I can’t fucking remember and when my brain catches up to reality… he’s gone and I start the process of grieving him all over again.”
Chloe turns on her side to face me, but I don’t drop her hand—I hold onto it like a lifeline. Her teeth sink into her trembling bottom lip.
“I’ve never told anyone all that,” I confess.
“How come?” she asks tentatively.
“It’s fucking embarrassing. Joel and Zeke know I have the nightmares.”
It feels weird to call them that, but I guess that’s what they are. Reliving the worst fucking day of my life from an alternate point of view. I hadn’t been there when my dad had a heart attack in his favorite recliner, but I’ve seen it over and over nearly every night since.
“Zeke used to come in and wake me up when they were really bad. Most of the time I wake up on the floor in the morning, my room trashed, and I have no memory of doing it.”
Rolling on top of me, Chloe blankets me with all of her. Her hair falls around her shoulder into my face and I breathe it in. I breathe her in. She’s an ocean of possibilities and hope that there’s still good to hold onto. That there’s still good in me.
“It’s never happened twice in the same night, but if you want me to sleep somewhere else tonight, I’ll totally understand.” I run my hand over her hair and down her back. “Or if you want me to take you home.”
She stands and holds her hands out to me. I get to my feet and she pulls me to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And neither do I.
I’m dragging ass as I walk across the street to the fieldhouse at dark thirty. I left Chloe sleeping in my bed and damn it was hard to leave. As my muscles warm up and the fog from not enough sleep starts to ease away, I find my rhythm.
We split into two teams and do a light scrimmage to run through plays. We’ve got the exhibition game coming up and a lot of work to do before we show the university and local fans this year’s team.
Basketball has become an escape, but this morning I try and push all that away and remember my love for it. I don’t want to play to forget, I want to play for me and for the great memories I had practicing with my dad and Heath, memories I’ve made playing on this court for the past three years, and for the memories I hope to make with my team this year.
We may not make it back to the Final Four, but we’re gonna fight to go as far as we can.
Joel and I bump wrists as we head to the sideline to grab water. “Nice fake back there. Datson was three steps in the wrong direction when you blew past him.”
We sit down to take five, and I look out over the court. “Last year. Pretty surreal.”
“Getting sentimental about graduation already?”
“Guess I am.”
“Me, too.” He tosses his towel on the floor next to him. “What are you thinking for next year?”
I glance at him in confusion. “Next year?”
“Yeah, next year, after graduation. Are you entering the draft?”
I laugh but he doesn’t join me. “You’re serious?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I hadn’t given it any thought,” I answer honestly. “I just wanna see this year through first.”
“Alright then, let’s do it up right,” he says and stands ready to go back out and get our team ready.
Chloe’s already gone to her early morning classes when I get home from practice. I hop in the shower and get ready for Comm class.
When I slide into the seat next to her, I’m grinning like an idiot. She’s smiling at me, and my chest fills with such happiness to have her. Really have her. I worried last night was going to make things awkward between us, but in some weird way, I think it brought us closer.
Professor Sanchez is on a rampage today, so we barely get a chance to scribble notes to each other and when class is dismissed, I groan because I know she has to hurry to make her bus.
“Don’t go,” I tease and hug her tight.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll come straight over.” She tips her head up, her green eyes meeting mine. “I mean, if you want me to. I didn’t mean to invite myself over.”
I brush my lips against hers. “You can invite yourself over any time. Don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you.”
“Chloe, let’s go,” Emily calls, and I loosen my grip on my girl.
“Good luck. Kill ‘em.”
She grins. “I will.” She rushes to meet Emily and Sydney at the top of the stairs, and I watch her, feeling like a chump because I already miss her.
I sent Heath a couple texts to hear about his college trip, but he sent a meme of a little girl being dragged facedown around a carousel and told me he’d call tomorrow. Guess he’s tired.
I head to Gabby’s apartment later that night.
“Gabs?” I call, entering her place.
“I’m changing, give me one sec.”
I take a seat on her couch to wait. She comes into the living room, practically bouncing with each step.
“You look happy.”
“I am.” Plopping down next to me, she pulls her feet under her on the couch. “We haven’t hung out in forever. What do you want to do tonight?”
I lie my head back. “Movie?”
“You’re such an old man. What happened to the guy who used to close down the party on the dance floor with me?”
“He’s still in there. He’s just tired. Chloe and I were up half the night.”
Gabby’s eyebrows raise.
“Not like that, perv.”
She holds both hands up in front of her. “I don’t need to know.”
I grab a throw pillow and lightly hit her over the head with it. “We stayed up talking.”
“You really like her.” Gabby smooths her hair back from her face and smiles at me, showing all her straight white teeth.
I nod. “I really do.”
“Good.” She claps her hands. “I was going to ask her to be in the wedding so you can’t break up with her.”
It’s my turn to be shocked. “The wedding?”
“I’m getting married. Hello?” She flashes her ring.
“When? I figured you two would be engaged for a few years first, I guess.”
She shrugs. “Next summer. If it weren’t for the logistics of me finishing school and Zeke’s schedule, I’d do it even sooner. I love him, and I want to start our lives together.”
“I’m happy for you, Gabs.”
“Thank you.” She uncrosses her legs and reaches over to the coffee table. “Okay, now you have two options. One, help me pick out wedding stuff?” She holds up a bridal magazine.
“What’s my other option?”
“Go dancing with me.”
I hold my hand out for the magazine, and she squeals before putting it in my hands.
“If anyone asks, we went dancing.”