“Tricia. Are you okay?” I try again. I reach into my bag, pulling out some Kleenex and offering it to her under the door. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk, but is there anything I can do to help you?”
She takes the tissues from my hand a moment before the bathroom door opens. Her face is red and blotchy from crying.
“Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve been a bitch to you.” She uses the Kleenex to wipe her nose.
“You’re upset. That’s more important than whatever it is I did to make you not want to be my friend anymore.” That only makes her start crying again.
“I’m sorry,” she says through her tears. I step in to give her a hug. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight the same way Grams does to me when I’m upset. It always makes me feel comforted. “You’re so nice. I’m such an asshole.”
I step back from the hug. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I was being petty about the whole Colt thing. Then on Sunday my father ditched me last minute. We usually have Sunday dinner together. That’s the only time I really get to see him since he and my mom got divorced. And a few minutes ago, my mom texted me and cancelled our plans tonight. I swear it doesn’t matter how hard I try, no one seems to want me. Not Colt or even my own fucking parents.”
“I’m sorry, Tricia. It sucks feeling all alone.”
She winces at my words. “I really am sorry. I took my shit out on you, and you’ve been nothing but good and kind to me. Let me make it up to you.”
“Of course I forgive you. Isn't that what friends are supposed to do?”
“Not always.” She gives me a half smile. “You want to go to the mall? Get some food and shop? You can help me put a dent in my mom’s credit card.”
“You won’t get in trouble?” The marks on my back tingle at the thought.
“Nah. She gets mom guilt for never being around. She loves her job more than anything.”
“I understand the feeling of your own mom picking something over you. It sucks.”
“It’s messed up, but it is what it is. Let’s drown our sorrows in ice cream. You in?” she asks.
“I’d love to,” I say.
A girls’ day sounds like it’s exactly what I need to take my mind off things. And by things I mean Colt.
Chapter Eleven
Colt
“You have something to tell me?” I glower at Dean. After a bad practice, Tommy asked if my head was screwed up because he saw Dean chatting up my girl. The rush of excitement at hearing GG referred to as my girl crashed into the instant rage at the thought of Dean, my own teammate, trying to make a move when I explicitly said she was off limits.
“No. Not really.” He gives me a cheeky smile and turns.
“Tommy says differently.”
Dean swings around to his left. “You’re such a low-faced snitch,” he cries, snapping his towel at Tommy’s back.
Tommy dashes out of the way. “I want to win and get my stripper prize. If Colt’s distracted we aren’t winning.”
A murmur of agreement ripples through the locker room. Sensing the team’s mood is shifting against him, Dean whines, “I was just messing around.”
“Do it again and I’ll rip your dick off and feed it into the meat grinder in the cafeteria. You can eat it with a side of potatoes.” I throw my shower supplies into my locker and get dressed.
“Dude, my dick? My dad’s not going to like that.”
“Your dad worships the ground I walk on because he thinks he’s going to be able to brag about having a major league player as his kid’s best friend.”
“Ah, bestie.” Dean throws his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s share. There’s no reason that one man should hog a girl all to himself. If she’s tasty, let’s all have a little bite.”
I swing around and pin my childhood friend to the locker, my forearm under his chin. His eyes bulge as his oxygen supply gets cut off. “Don’t ever say anything like that again. Better yet, don’t think about her. She does not exist for you from this moment forward. Got me?”
The locker room is dead silent as I walk out, but I got my message across. I check my phone and see my mom’s at work, thank fuck, but my brother has his location off. That irritates me, but I don’t want to fight with him over it.
Me: on my way home u have dinner yet
He texts me back right away, which I’m grateful for.
Him: No. eating at the mall w friends btw ur seeing someone?
I rub my forehead. We don’t have the money for him to be eating out, which he knows. I tap my thumbs against the screen before deciding to ignore it.