Page 73 of Play the Last Card
“What did she say?”
“That’s the problem. I talked, she had some sort of silent reaction, told me I lied to her and then asked me to leave. No idea what happened in her head,” I tell him as I dig in my backpack for my keys. Again the way her eyes glazed and how she looked like a ghost crossed my mind. I want to know what had gone through her head. I want to talk to her, and for her to actually talk to me.
“Do you think her reaction was because you lied about playing football or?”
“There’s something else here. It cannot be just because I didn’t tell her that I actually play for the team, not just work for them. She didn’t seem mad. More like she was holding back? I don’t know.” I feel the brain fog start to take over as I try to remember every detail of her expression that day.
“Have you talked since?” he asks.
I shake my head. Before I can stop it, the embarrassing confession falls from my mouth. “I’ve texted her pretty much every week since I told her four weeks ago and she hasn’t replied to a single one.”
“Ouch.” Flynn flinches. I open the back seat of the car, lifting my small case in and throwing in my backpack.
“It’s whatever.” It’s not. But what else am I supposed to say?
“Well, you obviously know what you have to do now, right?” He leans against the car, staring at me like whatever he’s talking about is obvious. I stare blankly at him. “God, women are not your forte,” he mutters.
I frown. That pisses me off. Of course they aren’t. No woman has caught my eye since college and no woman has held my interest since high school until Ivy.
And now she is fucking with my head.
“You have to talk to her. In person.” He waves a hand out in front of him to lay out the steps for me. “Apologize, beg for forgiveness, and grovel.”
“That’s your advice?” I ask. Flynn just smirks and nods his head.
Idiot.
“I want to talk to her but she won’t reply to me.”
“So show up on her doorstep.” He shrugs.
“Creepy much?” I shove my hands in pockets, thinking it over.
“If you really want to talk to her, you have to commit. Show up. Explain, say you’re sorry, and grovel like your life depends on it.”
“She’s at school right now.” I mumble, pulling my phone out of my pocket to check the time.
“So? Show up at the school. Ask to see her for a minute. Go knock on her classroom door.” My head shoots up, seriously thinking the idea over. Huh. Show up at her classroom. She will have to talk to me. She won’t want to cause a scene and I know she’ll want to get me out of there. I can make her promise to meet me for dinner.
At the very least and even if she refuses, I get to see her.
And I really,reallywant to see her.
Flynn eyes me suspiciously. “Oh my god, you’re gonna do it aren’t you?”
I give him a light shove off the car before smacking his shoulder and opening the door to hop in. As I start the car, I roll the window down and call out to him. “Thanks for the advice.”
He salutes me out of the parking lot.
I don’t stop to think about how stupid this idea is. I focus on the road. My fingers tap along to the radio on the steering wheel.
Thirty minutes, ten songs, nothing but what I’m going to say to Ivy running through my mind.
I drive into the parking lot of the school, pull into a spot and make my way to the school’s administration office.
“Good morning, how are you to—” The lady sitting behind the administration desk begins, looking up at me before finishing her sentence. Her tortoise shell framed glasses slip down her nose, mouth opening and the pen she holds drops onto the desk.
“Good morning …” I glance at the nameplate on the counter. “Brenda.”