Page 58 of Full Court Love
At one time, she was mine.
Like twenty-four hours ago.
And I know I’ll definitely always love her.
I give her a small smile as the last person walks back to the locker room. She turns to me, and the fake smile she was wearing moments ago melts away when she looks at me. The hurt behind her eyes almost breaks me again, just like it did the second she closed the door yesterday.
Then she stands, with Callie supporting her, and begins to limp toward the locker room. Cue my inability to leave her alone. I scoop her up, and despite her aggressive protests, I carry her to the locker room.
The fans still left in the stands cheer and “aww.” A few people whistle. It would be an adorable moment if it wasn’t so messed up. I break up with her and then won’t give her even a millimeter of space.
I know more than just her ankle is hurting because she refuses to meet my eyes.
The closeness is already something I miss.
Her smell, her hair draped over my arm, the softness of her skin.
I take the walk more slowly than necessary simply to soak in this time that I get to hold her. We reach the locker room, and I gently set her down. The second I’m not holding heranymore, I crave her touch again. This girl belongs in my arms.
She doesn’t say a word. She just pushes the door open and limps away, but I’m not going anywhere.
After about ten minutes, the team starts to filter out. A few say hi to me, certainly not aware of the breakup yet–otherwise, they’d be staring daggers. The most bizarre interaction is with Sasha. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me. Then looking down, she walks past me before awkwardly turning back around.
“Umm, I just wanted to…Lucy was almost ready. She’ll be out in a minute.”
I’m so caught off guard by whatever this is. “Okay…thanks.”
She nods and then bolts down the hallway. Clearly something happened, but I don’t have time to dwell on it because I hear a crashing sound. Then a familiar voice yells.
“Dammit!”
I knock on the door. “Lucy, is everything okay?”
Silence.
“Lucy?”
Still nothing.
“That’s it. I’m coming in.”
I close my eyes just in case and push through the door.
“Is everyone decent? Can I open my eyes?”
Something hard smokes me in the face, followed by a laugh. “Yes, you’re good.”
I open my eyes to see Lucy on the floor next to a knocked-over chair and some crutches. She’s the only one left, so she’s definitely the one who threw whatever it was–a shoe, by the looks of it–at me.
I pick it up and toss it back. “Was there a reason for throwing this, or…?”
She smiles, her face a combination of mischief and feigned innocence. “Had to be sure you weren’t peeking.”
“But you’re fully clothed, and there’s no one else here.”
She shrugs. “Well, if those two statements weren’t true, I wanted to be sure you weren’t being a creep.”
I nod, as though this all makes sense, when in fact I’m a little offended. “Of course. Because I’ve given you every reason not to trust me.”