Page 79 of Off Limits
I want to talk to someone about the situation I’ve found myself in. I could talk to my teammates but they’ll just give me shit.
I look at the other phone. The Serenity phone. It remains charging and unused on my desk. I haven’t switched it off since Serenity blew me off on Monday. She’s the only other person who I can talk to about this freaking weird Lemon situation. I wonder if she’s seen the news, and what she makes of it. I pick up the phone and unlock it, thinking about sending a message. I blow out my cheeks and think the better of it.
If she wanted to change her mind, she could contact me.
And she hasn’t.
Dalton Briar must have said something to my teammates, because at our non-contact training session for team drills, nobody even whispered a word about Lemon. Not even Hud Briar, and that’s saying something about Hudson.
When I get home around three, I’m hunting round in the fridge when I hear the front door slam. The next thing I know, River is racing up the stairs in what sounds like floods of tears. I inhale a hastily made sandwich before heading up to her room.
When I bang on the door, she shrieks at me, ‘Go away!’
I hover outside in the corridor. A weird sensation washes over me. River never really had too many hormones flying around as a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old and I wonder if they’re just hitting now. I’ve never really seen her cry before. At least, not like this.
‘Come on, Riv…’ I say softly, knocking on the door again.
‘Go away! I fucking hate you!’
‘Woah, what did I do?’
Her voice comes back through the door. ‘You brought me to this damn place! You’re the reason I have zero friends and nobody wants to go near me! You’re never even here anyway, you’re always busy doing somethin’ else! Why couldn’t you have signed with the Eagles? Then I could have stayed with my real friends!’
I’m through with being yelled at, so I barge into her room. She’s on the bed with her shoes off, the quilt all crumpled, her eyes puffy and black makeup staining her tear-streaked cheeks.
‘What’s goin’ on?’
Big soft plushies come flying at my face. ‘Get out!’ she hollers again. ‘Get out, get out, get out!’
‘Not until you tell me what the hell is up.’
She breaks down then and buries her face in her hands. I sit down on her bed and rub her back. Girls like that when they’re crying. Gracie Olavsen was a crier, especially when she was on her period. I got pretty good at soothing her.
I snort. This is why women don’t find me sexy. Because I’m soft. I’m too fucking nice.
‘Don’t laugh at me,’ River snaps through her tears.
‘I wasn’t.’
‘Then what was that noise you just made?’
‘Nothing, I just… I was thinking about something else, sorry. You gonna tell me what’s with the ugly crying?’
Another plushie hits me square in the face.
River takes some breaths. ‘Something happened at school today.’
‘I take it, it wasn’t good?’
River wipes her tears, tries to compose herself. She gives a big sigh. ‘You remember I told you about the winter formal?’ she asks.
‘Winter formal? Sure, yeah. What about it?’
‘You remember when we went to that wedding, and I told you there was a waiter there who I recognized from school?’
‘Uh. Sure.’
‘Scottie Lincoln. Today I found out that he told every guy at school not to invite me to the winter formal.’
