Page 293 of Seasons of Love
I’ve managed football players, the press, and my ex-wife, and not once have I lost my composure. What is it about this guy that seems to shake my foundations like he’s found the winning Jenga piece?
A crumbling tower of memories crashes inside my head, one overriding them all.
Ben.
I can’t remember the last time I thought of him.
He’s who Bubble reminds me of. The boy who was so special, so alive, so beautiful, so generous, so kind that he was too good for this world.
My chest is suddenly too tight, but there’s no point thinking about a past I can’t change.
I just know I need to be careful around Bubble.
8
BUBBLE
I stir the mint candy cane in my cup and take a sip of my cocoa, letting it warm me from the inside out. Hmm, I love mint-chocolate hot cocoa.
Shame Coach didn’t want to stay to have one. Maybe I could have convinced him to have dinner with me or watch a Christmas movie.
He can say what he likes, but the way he keeps looking at me? It’s giving me whiplash.
On the one hand, he runs. On the other, he stares at me like if I was a candy cane, he would lick me.
Of course, I had to go ruin it by being sassy.
“Not everyone can take your brand of crazy, Bubble. Sometimes you need to let them in gently,” I say Juju’s words aloud, like a mantra.
Speaking of which.
I put my phone on its love-heart stand and video call Juju.
This time when she answers, she’s on her couch holding a glass of wine.
“What’s up, babe? Afraid I’ve changed my mind about going?”
“I’m glad one of us has the stronger stuff,” I say.
Her expression changes immediately, and she sits straighter. My bestest friend. Always ready to defend me. Always willing to kick someone’s ass for me.
“Oh, Juju, what do I do? He’s here. Like, just there. You know, before, I didn’t know where he was when he wasn’t there, but now he’s just there,” I say a little too dramatically, even for me.
“You’re making as much sense as ice cream and fries,” she says.
“What? That’s gross.”
“Hey, don’t judge. It was the cheerleading finals, and I landed badly coming down from the pyramid. I hurt my ankle, and he-who-shall-not-be-named was a dick. I got home. There was drinking with my roomie. Thus, ice cream and fries ensued.”
I shake my head. “Anyway. He. You know…”
She’s staring at me. Her eyes narrow, and then it hits her.
“Oh! Your coach. Gotcha.” She whispers. “He’s there…there?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to whisper. He’s not here in this cabin. He’s in the cabin next door.”
“How do you know? Did you see him through the window?”
