I smile at that, not entirely sure how I feel. I know Ilove him, but I’m not ready to believe that anyone truly loves me just yet. Wewill get there, though; of that, I’m sure.
“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asks, still so unsure of our relationship.
“I’d love that,” I say honestly and then wave as I leave.
Chapter Forty-One
Dylan
Lyingbackonthegrass, I stare up at the clouds and let my mind drift. I should be focused on my future, but like always, my thoughts land on Summer. It’s been a month since the last time I locked eyes on her.A fucking month.I always thought if we ended up in this situation it would be Summer’s doing not mine. I was wrong. So, so wrong. This is all on me.
When Summer’s dad hinted that he’d hurt her…no, hurt isn’t a strong enough word. That he’d physically assaulted her to the point of scars, because he’d seen me at his house. It broke something inside me. And I don’t just mean my heart. Something flipped a switch in my brain, and all I saw was darkness. I’d been holding on to so much guilt already, and that…that tipped me over the edge.
I wanted to be with Summer. Iwantto be with Summer. But right now, I’m struggling to find my way back to her.
After watching her drive away with Thomas, I had to force myself to get in my truck and not go back and beat the shit out of her dad. I tossed and turned all night between my worry for her and the fog that was taking up space in my mind. As soon as the sun came up, I sent her a message.
Dylan: I meant what I said last night. Summer, I will always be here for you, if you need me. I know you’re a strong, independent woman, but even the strongest need someone in their corner. I’m sorry that I’m messed up. You deserve the world and right now I can’t give it to you. I hope you understand.
And from there I messaged almost daily to check in. Just because I needed time to sort out my shit didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about her and desperate for any kind of connection. Summer’s replies were fast and detailed in the beginning, but the last few messages had been short or single words—until today. Today, Summer’s texts were long and exactly what I needed. On a day when I’m struggling, she reached out.
Summer: I couldn’t let today pass without touching base. Right now, you are probably going through an internal battle with advice coming at you from all directions. So here’s mine—shut it out, all of it. Only you know what you want for your future. If playing makes you happy then go for it, but if that’s not where your heart lies, then that’s okay too. No matter what you decide, you have nothing to be guilty about. Whatever you choose IS the right choice.
Summer: And for what it’s worth. You’re a helluva football player, but I have no doubt you’ll market the shit out of the sports industry too. If that’s still the plan.
The more I think about Summer, the more I hate myself for reducing our relationship to solely text messages. But I hold out hope that I can still fix us, once I fix myself. I know Joel speaks to her on occasion, but he never mentions it to me, and while I still visit the Ball House, there isn’t much chance of running into her since Nate and Cory broke up before Christmas. Something a friend would have asked about. Guess I’m not even good at that anymore either.
With my eyes closed and arms locked behind my head, a feeling of déjà vu hits, and I’m overcome with sadness. Summer’s right; I do have a big decision to make, but I can’t get her out of my head long enough to think it through.
The reason this has all come up now is because a local radio station caught wind of the fact that a few teams have shown interest in me, and I’ve been hesitant. That led to a few news outlets approaching me for a comment, and now I’m here, lying on the football field, trying to decide my future. No one would care if my father hadn’t been the great player he was. But not much I can change about that. I met with Coach earlier to talk through my options, and while I technically don’t have to declare anything, he seems to think I need to make my intentions clear, now that they’re in question.
I was prepared to walk away. If they’d asked me last year, I would have said I was hesitant because I wasn’t interested, but now… God, I have no idea. After everything happened with Summer, I kind of lost myself in football. It became my savior. The only time I felt alive was when I was on the field. When the season ended, I was lost again, and for the past week I’ve been a wreck. And now, New Year’s Eve, a time I should be celebrating, I can’t seem to get past the guilt I feel, and every time I think about Summer, I spiral even more. I want to see her, be with her, but I can’t. She deserves someone who’s whole, and I’m barely a fragment of my former self.
A whistle sounds somewhere to my left, and I turn to see a few of our school’s cheerleaders run onto the field, possibly trying to sneak in an extra practice. Jumping to my feet, I pick up my ball before heading to the coaches’ offices.Guess my thinking time is up.When I reach the head coach’s room, I knock my knuckles against the door and then enter before awaiting a reply. His head rises, and he gives me a questioning look.
“Okay, I’m ready to talk,” I say and then plop down on the seat in front of him.
When the evening rolls around, the boys drag me to Reilly’s Place for a typical booze fest. I haven’t been able to bring myself to drink since the night Summer confessed about her dad. Every time I so much as smell alcohol, I think of a ten-year-old Summer being hit by her drunk old man. Actually, it’s probably safe to sayeverythingreminds me of Summer these days. I can’t seem to escape it.So, why the fuck can’t I sort myself out?
The night plays out around me, and I do my best to act as a happy participant. I smile and nod during stories, I laugh at obvious jokes, I even buy a round of beer, but mentally, I’m checked out.
When talking gets too much, I head to the bar to drown my sorrows in water and proceed to spiral even further. I do want to snap out of this but can’t for the life of me figure out what to do. The look on Summer’s face when she tried to comfort me that night flashes into my mind. Her dad abused her because ofme, and she thinksI’mthe one who needs support.
Even in that moment of pain, I remember thinking about how beautiful she was. With her hands framing my face and her stunning green eyes wide with worry, pleading with me to understand, I wanted to be able to wrap her in my arms, forget about our trouble and kiss her tears away. Then she got that adorable startled look on her face as she was lost in thought, mumbling that she was falling…Summer was falling in love with me and I cut her off.God, what the fuck is wrong with me?
I knew loving her was going to be dangerous; it was a big risk to my heart, a risk I was willing to take. I’d prepared myself for Summer to run, and I was ready to fight for her. For us. I never once thoughtI’dbe the one causingherpain.
I impulsively pull my phone from my pocket and send her a text. It’s wrong on so many levels because nothing’s changed, but I need her to know.
Dylan: I miss you.
A couple of hours later she still hasn’t replied. It’s the longest I’ve ever had to wait. Even if I can fix this mess, maybe I’m too late.Am I?Have I ruined everything?Of course, I have, it’s been a month.
“I saw Summer yesterday,” Joel says, joining me at the bar and catching me off guard.
“Oh…uh…how is she?” It’s the first time he’s mentioned her in a few weeks. I told him I couldn’t hear about her. That I needed time, and he actually respected that—at least he had until now. Talk about timing.
“She looks like shit if I’m being honest, but as always, she says she’s fine.”