Page 103 of Rookie Moves
Sitting up, I snatch the cushion from her grip and toss it over the back of the couch. She goes to grab another, but I quickly stand and rush down the hall to my room as her footsteps echo behind me. I slam the door and flick the lock before she can push her way in.
“You better be getting dressed, Colby, I mean it. I’m not afraid to climb up through your window,” she calls out through the door, slapping her hand against the wood.
For the first time in two weeks, I find myself smiling. She might be seven years older than me, but we’ve always had a strong relationship.
I take the world’s quickest shower, then get dressed in some shorts and a T-shirt and shove my feet into my favorite Vans. I swing open the door again and find Callie standing there, her arms crossed against her chest.
“You could have at least combed your hair,” she says with a jut of her chin. “We’re not going to a scarecrow convention.”
Rolling my eyes, I head back into my en suite and comb my hair. It’s getting long and unruly, but I don’t care.
I don’t really care about anything right now, and that scares me a little.
“Is this better, Mom?” I say mockingly as I peer my head around the door, but then my breath gets stuck in my throat when I see what Callie is holding.
The strip of photos from the arcade in Boston.
“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.
Callie glances over at me, her face pinched in a sad smile. “This is him, isn’t it? Tyler?”
When I don’t say anything, she looks back at the photos, her voice soft as she says, “I was gutted I didn’t get to meet him in Tampa. Mom and Dad seemed to really like him. They wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks after.”
My mouth turns sour, and I clench my teeth to try and prevent the lump from growing in the back of my throat.
Callie carefully places the photos back on my dresser, then closes the distance between us. She reaches up to do something with my hair, then offers me a small smile.
“How about we go into Portland for a few hours? We can get some tacos, then grab an ice cream on the waterfront?” she asks, then holds up her hand before I can answer. “And yes, I know you have the combine in a few days, but we both know you’re going to be working out more than what you need to, so you’ll soon burn it off.”
I should say no because I’m about to put myself through one of the most challenging days, both physically and mentally, and having tacos and ice cream will break my carefully constructed routine.
But deep down, I know I need this time with my sister, who I only get to see a few times a year.
And I need it to stop me from wallowing in self-pity over Tyler.
I run a hand through my hair, trying to act like I’m unbothered by her suggestion.
“I guess. Only if you’re paying.”
She swats me on the chest with the back of her hand.
“Ow!” I yelp. “What was that for? I was only joking.”
“I was going to pay anyway, asshole,” she grumbles, then turns on her heel and talks over her shoulder as she leaves my room. “Just remember, you’re going to owe me a lot of dinners when you’re making millions, and I’m going to make sure you take me to some really expensive restaurants.”
Biting back a smile, I follow my sister through the house, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
If Callie notices I’m quiet as she drives us into the city, she doesn’t say anything. I stare out the window, watching the world pass by, and I can’t stop my mind from straying to Tyler, like it often does when I’m not torturing myself in the gym.
What’s he doing right now? Has he managed to talk some sense into his dad?
Is he doing okay?
My hand moves to my pocket, but then I remember I left my phone at home on the couch. It’s not like I need it anyway. The only people who need to reach me can get hold of me through Callie, and it’s not like I’m going to hear from Tyler.
He sent a text once I got back to my room after the ceremony, then again before he boarded his flight the following day, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply.
Because what was left to say? Nothing was going to make it hurt any less.
