I’m caught off guard when the door finally opens, and I stumble forward. My heart soars and then plummets when it’s Ava’s face that appears and not Ginny’s.
“She’s not here,” Ginny’s shy roommate says, her cheeks turning pink.
“Right, okay, could you give her a message?”
She nods, prompting me. Shit, what’s the message? I’m sorry that I’m a giant prick doesn’t really tell her anything she didn’t already know, even if it’s accurate.
“Just ask her to call me.” I step back and then add, “Please?”
37
Ginny
“Thank you for doing this one with me,” I say to Dakota as the group of local elementary students line up for a tour of the Hall of Fame. It’s my first day back working after being locked in the hype room. I’m already a mess from last night and the idea of being in there by myself again is scary.
“Of course. These guys might look little but trust me, it’s going to take two of us plus their teacher to keep them in line.” She gives me a reassuring smile and steps forward and introduces herself.
I fall back and let her do the majority of the talking. I’m not feeling particularly chatty, but I answer questions and help keep the kids from wandering off. It’s a totally different experience than the recruits get, less focused and more about letting the kids walk around awestruck by catching glimpses of college athletes working out or walking around campus. They look up to them like celebrities and it’s pretty heartwarming. But since it’s less intense than our recruit tours, I’m able to fade into the background, and today I’m extremely thankful for that.
When we walk into the hype room, Dakota goes first, the kids follow, and I bring up the end of the line. She glances to me as I enter. I nod to let her know I’m okay. Maybe the anxiousness I thought I’d feel coming in here again is dulled by the deep aching pain I’ve had since I walked out of Heath’s apartment last night, but I’m able to stand and watch the video without panicking. It’s a generic video, encompassing all sports, but since hockey is such a big deal at Valley, there are still lots of times that Heath’s face splashes on the screen. Each and every time it feels like someone’s pouring alcohol into an open wound.
I’m sad and mad, flipping between the two so frequently even I don’t know which one is the prominent emotion. Does he really think we can keep dating like nothing happened? Even if I could get over the idea that he doesn’t feel the same, and likely never will, I’d be a wreck waiting for the day he freaked out again or decided to move on. There’s really only two ways a relationship can go, and he took one of those options away. When you know how something is going to end, it’s harder to enjoy the moment.
As the video stops on the final frame, a drone shot overhead of campus, the kids’ faces are lit up with joy and wonder. I step to the door so I can be the first out.
Dakota and I take them to the football field and let them loose to run around in the big, open space.
“How was it?” she asks as we stand on the fifty-yard line.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel the same about that room, but it was okay.”
“Listen, I’ve got it from here. Take off, go see Heath, or go lay in bed and cry… whatever you need to do.”
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely. Five more minutes of them sprinting up and down the field and I can hand them back to their teacher.”
I hug her. “Thank you.”
I take off for my dorm with the intent of trying to nap. Needless to say, I spent last night tossing and turning, so I’m not only emotionally exhausted, but physically too. However, as soon as I fall into my bed and pull up the covers, I get a 911 text from Reagan.
I get back up and trudge across campus. I find her in the back of the theater in their dressing room. Her hair is in curlers and she’s wearing her green silky robe.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Ms. Morris fell and broke her wrist. She’s out and now I don’t have anyone to do my makeup. Can you help? We have our dress rehearsal in thirty minutes.”
I’d gotten the first part from her text message and had come prepared to do her makeup, but dress rehearsal? The look on her face is pleading, though, so I suck it up. “I’ve never done stage makeup like that, but I can try.”
“Thank you!”
The dressing room in the theater is a large open room with a long counter that extends on two walls with lighted mirrors. Stools are around the room in disarray. Some tucked under the counter, others have clothes and makeup bags on them, and the rest are occupied by girls as they get ready.
Reagan sits; her cosmetics litter the space in front of her. “So, what happened with Heath? Dakota heard from Rhett that Heath was not looking great at their morning skate.”
I set down my backpack and add my makeup to the counter. “It was a very long night after you left.”
I fill her in while I add primer to her face.
“All of this happened last night? And you haven’t heard from him since?”
“Ava said he came by the dorm looking for me.”
She smiles and tries to shoo me off. “Go. I can do my own face.”
“No way. I’ve got you. Let’s just talk about something else.”
“Okay. Like what?”
“Like how nervous I am right now.”
“What? Why? You’ve done my makeup lots of times. It always looks great.”
“But the lights and the people…” My hands tremble.
