I want to answer him. I really do. But what do I tell him? That my girlfriend broke up with me?
She has a point. We never even talked about it. There was never a commitment. We just kind of fell back into old habits. In Angie’s defense, that sounds about as unromantic as anything I’ve ever heard. No wonder she’s mad. That and of course, the text from Chad. But even that’s my fault. In the end I find as simple an answer as I can.
“I fucked it all up, Bill.”
Bill pauses for a moment. “Well, I guessed that part, Sherlock. What’d you do? I read about the scout workout. Looks like it went great. The trade bloggers are all buzzing with excitement. The great Jake Mann, Touchdown Maker is back.”
He emerges back into the sunlight. “The articles are all about who’s going to sign him? The Saints? Cowboys? Eagles? Who needs a little Jake Mann magic to get to the playoffs?” He fixes me with a harsh stare. “How the hell do you fuck up that kind of excitement, boy?”
“There never was any Jake Mann magic.”
Bill turns back around and scurries over behind the bar to continue setting things up. “Sure there was.”
“It was never real, Jake. It was all just marketing buzz. Smoke and mirrors. A disappearing act.”
“Are you sure that’s all it ever was? Or are you just really afraid to make the illusion real?”
That stops my entire train of thought. I look up at him. “You know that I’m talking about a girl and not football, right?”
Bill’s face breaks into a wide grin. “Duh. What kind of an old fool do you take me for?” He leans forward on the bar. “I’m going to tell you something I wish somebody had told me when I was your age.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Grab the magic while you can, boy. Because let me tell you, sometimes when it passes you by, it’s gone forever.”
I swivel my barstool back to face the ocean. That might be the single most frightening thing another human being has ever said to me.
Chapter 41
Angie
After what seemed like the longest workday in the history of the world, it’s finally time to lock up. I thank Gwen and Mia for helping me get through it, but frankly faking being okay even for a few hours has left me emotionally exhausted.
Only one thing will make me feel better now. I texted Fi and Kaylee hours ago and asked them to meet me. I didn’t say why. I couldn’t bring myself to type it out.
I’m still not sure I’ll be able to talk about it without crying, but I need Fi and Kaylee. I need chips and salsa. And I really, really need some Beaky Tiki punch.
The sand is still warm from baking in the sun all day when I make my way across to the Beaky Tiki. I slow the pace of my walk when I see the familiar silhouettes at our regular table.
I feel guilty about it all somehow, like I should have seen it coming. And talking about it is the last thing I want to do, but I might as well get it over with. These two know me even better than Mia and Gwen.
I get to the table and try one last time to fake a smile but apparently I’m really bad at it.
I scoot my chair in while the two of them analyze my facial expression.
“Okay,” Fi says, putting her drink down, “who do I have to kill, Angie.”
“Oh my God,” Kaylee chimes in, “it’s Jake, isn’t it? Please tell me he didn’t fuck this up.”
“That son of a bitch.” Fi jumps back in. “I cannot even believe this shit. What did he do now?”
Kaylee sits back in her chair. “Please tell me this isn’t about Jake.”
“It’s about Jake.” I get the words out without bursting into tears, so that’s a win.
Fi pours me a glass of punch. “Alright, then. We’re here for you, Angie. You might as well start at the beginning.”
I recount the whole morning in as much detail as I can remember, no matter how hard it is to verbalize. It helps.
The day was a jumble of emotions and attempting to explain them in order helps solidify things in my mind. Kaylee and Fi listen patiently, thoroughly, and quietly until I’m done.
Then I take a very long sip of my punch, not stopping until I hear the slurping sound at the bottom. Then I get a refill. It’s going to be that kind of night.
There’s a long pause.
Kaylee goes first. “I can’t believe he could possibly be that stupid.”
“Oh, I believe that part,” Fi adds, “I just can’t believe he’s the one who isn’t sure what he wants. I mean, you saw his face the last few days, right, Kaylee? He’s not smart, for sure. But honestly, I’ve never once seen him as happy as he was with you.”
Kaylee takes my hand. “Sweetie, are you alright?”
“Yes.” No. I’m not alright. I feel like I had my heart ripped out of me. Again. And not gently like surgery. Primally, like in that Indiana Jones movie with the voodoo witch doctor.
Fi squirms in her chair. “Hang on, let me get this straight. All this was over a text from Jake’s agent, right?”
“Right.” It’s true. “It underscores the fact that our relationship and everything I thought we had was a bullshit scam, and I guess I should be thankful for that. But yes, it all started this morning with the text. All these weeks have been nothing but a game to him.”
Fi grabs a chip. “From his agent.”
“Yes,” I answer getting a little annoyed. “From his agent.”
“Well,” Fi says, “I say call him. He deserves to know what he’s done.”
“Call who?” I ask.
“You know. The agent.”
I never thought of that. “Yeah, but Fi, I don’t blame the agent. I blame Jake.”
“So? That guy stirred
