Page 76 of Full Court Love
Sasha is slumped against the wall. It’s a version of her I’ve definitely never seen before, and I’m reminded of a wounded animal–even if that animal is a snake or a shark, it’s still kind of heartbreaking.
She hears my footsteps and lifts her head, groaning when she sees that it’s me. “Great.”
Wordlessly, I sink down next to her on the floor. We stare straight ahead for a beat. Then she breaks the silence. “So, did you hear everything?”
“No, just the tail end.”
She nods, still staring straight ahead. “Well, that’s mortifying.”
I finally turn and look at her. “Actually, I wish this would’ve happened sooner. Not you fighting with your parents, obviously, but seeing and hearing what you have to deal with. Seriously, Sasha, I’m so sorry.”
She turns her head up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “Don’t apologize to me. I’ve been such a bitch to you–we both know it. You apologizing actually makes me feel even worse.”
“All right then, I won’t apologize for reaming you out in the locker room last week either. But I was going to. I’ve been feeling really bad about it.”
She levels me with a look of exasperation. “Good ol’ St. Lucy. Can’t even help yourself, can you?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I want to apologize for yelling at you in front of our entire team? I feel like that’s the bare minimum, definitely not saint-level behavior.”
“Well, if that’s the bare minimum, I’m definitely going to hell. I haven’t apologized to you for anything over the last four years. I blamed you for my parents’ disappointment in me when they were like this long before you entered the picture.”
I don’t know what to say, so we sit there silently. She takes a deep breath.
“I’m really sorry for everything–especially the stuff with Jordan. I had no idea what I was doing to him or you. Or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it. I know I hurt you guys a lot, and I’m really happy you got back together.”
It almost sounds like she rehearsed this.
“Oh, well, thank you for saying all that. I really appreciate it.”
She stands up and reaches down to pull me up.
“Truce?”
I laugh as I shift my weight off my bad ankle.
“Sure, truce.”
“The karaoke thing was super cute, by the way. I mean, obviously I was jealous of the attention you got from it…”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“Jordan seems amazing, though. I’d better be invited to your wedding.”
Wedding? Why does that idea not scare me as much as I expected it to? Also, how is it possible that I actually kind of want Sasha there now? Before this moment, you couldn’t have paid me to invite her to my hypothetical wedding. Now, though, it feels like we have a weird connection that was forged through adversity–the adversity being our multiple-years-long hatred of one another.
“I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”
We stand awkwardly for a minute before she turns on her heel and hurries out the door without another word. A bizarre end to aTwilight-Zone-level conversation.
I look around, as if I need a witness to the miracle that just occurred. After years of anger and hurt, suddenly Sasha and I are joking like old friends? It feels like a weight I was previously unaware of has been lifted from my shoulders.
I’ve always hated tension and conflict. Thanks to Sasha, those were constants of the last four years.
But no more.
That storm cloud was just dissipated in a five-minute conversation, and with the enemy no longer poised for attack, I’m free.
I want this feeling for Jordan so badly.