A Game Like Ours: Suncastle College Book One

by Marissa J. Gramoll

  “Do you regret it?” Her words shake me in a way I didn’t expect, jolting me away from the underworld and into this moment.

  “Regret bein’ with him? No. I only regret that he broke up with me and wouldn’t tell me why.” I need to tell her that part too. Shit. I can’t. Not right now. I knew she wasn’t ready for this. Could she ever be ready for the rest?

  “You said he gave you this journal the night after our first date.”

  “He did.” I nod.

  “Then when was all this between the two of you?” Her tone is beyond agitated. I knew at some point we’d get in a real fight. I just wish it wasn’t about this.

  “Right before.” The truth spreads pain through my head. Every bit of me sinks into a vortex of despair with no hope of coming free in one piece.

  “Right before?” Her voice is loud. I jump back. I’ve never heard her yell before.

  “Yes. Well technically we were still together when he went out with you the first time. But then after goin’ out with you, he broke everythin’ off with me.” I try to stay calm, but I don’t know how.

  “Wait? He was with you when he went out with me?” It’s almost a scream. “You and Cody were together when I went out with him, and neither of you ever told me?”

  “Lex, I hoped he had.” I work my hands through my hair and scratch my scalp until it hurts. It isn’t hard to bring the pain with how sore my head is after all the times I’ve pulled my hair today. But I need this sting to keep me from doing something drastic, like punching a wall or throwing baseballs at a window.

  I hate to God that I said any of this. I already want to take it back. To give healing instead of pain. This wasn’t a good idea. Being with her was never a good idea.

  I close my eyes, knowing I don’t mean that. It was so good to be with her. Every moment of us was everything we both needed.

  Now I’ve gone and ruined it all.

  “Well, he didn’t.” She shakes her head, pointing her finger. “You knew he didn’t.” Her tone is a word that I’ve never used to describe her: hostile.

  “That night in the shower I told you he’d only been with me.” Anger pours from her every word. “Why didn’t you tell me right then? How could you not tell me?”

  “This isn’t what I wanted.” I clear my throat, willing to get any semblance of words out of it. “I didn’t want you to be mad at him, or hurt. It wasn’t okay. Not one bit of him bein’ with me and then goin’ out with you was okay. He cheated on me to be with you. Why do you think I hate cheatin’ so much? I know what it feels like.”

  The words feel wrong. It’s all so wrong. That’s why I pretend all the time that we were just friends. That’s why I’ve had so many one night stands, trying to convince myself that sex means nothing. She means so much. Please, Lex, just let me explain….

  “Cody was far from perfect. But that first date was all the cheating lasted. He broke it off with me right after. And then I wished–” tears sting at my eyes and it’s hard to go on. “I wish that I woulda told you that first night when you came back to town, but the thought of you questioning your relationship with Cody isn’t what I ever wanted.”

  “What did you want?”

  “You, Lex.” I clench my teeth. “I wanted to take care of you and to be with you and to finally tell you that I’ve been in love with you for years.” I thought I’d feel guilt for betraying Cody, but I don’t. I feel nothing but pain, everything wrapped up in how hurt I am that I’m hurting her.

  Her brows pinch over her nose. “I trusted you. I told you how hard it is for me to trust people. How hard it is for me to be able to give of myself. You knew.” Her eyes are hard. “But I didn’t know any of this.”

  “Please, don’t blame me.” It comes out before it should, before I think of what to say. “Don’t you think I blame myself enough, already?” Like a volcano erupting, the words rush out of me, scalding her the longer they sit on her perfect soul.

  “Do you even like bein’ with me? Or was I some cruel joke to both of you?”

  I feel queasy. Light headed. This is what she thinks? My hesitation only hurts us, I see it in her face. That’s what I thought Cody was doing to me.

  “Cruel joke, Lex? No.” I lean closer, but she pulls away. “You were never a joke.”

  “I’m pretty sure I am, because if what this journal says is real, then I’ve now gone out with two gay guys who like playin’ tricks on me.”

  “It’s not like that.” I blink my burning eyes, hard.

  “Then what’s it like, Bobby?” Sarcasm laces her tone as if she wouldn’t believe me if I told her.

  “Now, that’s not reasonable and you know it.” I’m matching her energy in a way that comes so naturally, even when we fight.

  “Not reasonable? You waited until I’d been fuckin’ you for months to tell me you were with my dead fiancé.”

  She’s trembling all over, and I resist the urge to scoop her into my arms. I knew this wouldn’t go well. I knew it, and here I am doing it anyway.

  Wishing I could change the past kills me. I have so much regret. Seems like I’m always doing the wrong thing.

  I brush her arm with my hand, but she pulls away even faster than before, as far away from me on the couch as possible like I’m poison oak. Like she has to stay away from me. I am poisonous to her. It’s surprising she’s still sitting here at all.

  “Cody told me the night he died that he’s gay. He tried to be with you but it didn’t work. But I’m not gay.” I sigh. “I promise I’m not gay and if I were, I swear to God I would own it right now. Despite the stigmas and confusion, I really like guys and girls, sexually. I’ve known I was bi ever since I was twelve years old.” My heart rattles in my chest, the silence filling my apartment in a way that feels empty.

  She raises her eyebrows.

  I stare into her eyes and hope for a bit of understanding. “You’re it for me, Lex. All the guys and girls I’ve been with, they weren’t you. You’re the one I want to be with.” My face gets hot. I swallow hard, hoping these tears won’t stream down. “He hurt me, too. It tore me up so bad when he broke up with me to try to be straight. Now, I wanna come clean to you. I hate that I don’t know how to not fuck everythin’ up. There’s no way to know what to do here.”

  “You could try tellin’ the truth.”

  “I am.” I lick my dry lips. “I’m not lyin’ to you about bi. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you to begin with. I haven’t told many people. Most of the guys I’ve been with don’t even know my real name, okay? It’s the biggest, deepest, darkest secret I have. Baseball makes comin’ out next to impossible. If we kept goin’ out like this, I woulda told you regardless of Cody. Hell, I shoulda told you day one.” I look at the front door, the past haunting me more with each breath. No, not now. This is already hard enough. “Are you mad about that?”

  “Am I mad about you being bi? Hell no.”

  Her voice makes me sure that she means it, giving a tease of relief. At least she’s okay with that.

  “What I’m mad about is that I didn’t know about you and Cody. That I didn’t know this about Cody at all.”

  I watch her, and here it comes, her walls tumble and she’s completely vulnerable in front of me. Tears pool in her eyes. She swats them away in rage. “Because it sure as fuck hurts.”

  “I know.” I’ve already slipped up in so many ways. “I know it hurts.” I watch her cry for a minute, cautiously taking my hoodie off my shoulders. I drape it across her back, hoping to give some warmth. She’s shaking really hard, and I hate being so useless in her time of need. I want to hold her. I want to fix this. But she doesn’t want to be touched. I hate that. Hate knowing I caused it. Grasping for anything I could say to mend this mistake, I force a breath.

  “Every moment of what we’ve shared has been completely real for me. I love you. I loved Cody. I love you both. Always have, always will.” My voice catches as her eyes find mine. “I know you’re angry. I know it was wrong of me to wait so
long to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then why did you?”

  I have no answer. This is eerily like the conversation I had with Cody.

  She stands from the couch.

  For a second I see it on her face, that war of not knowing whether to stay or to go. My eyes beg her to stay, beg her to let me explain. But not a single word finds its way out of my mouth. My heart splits as she walks out the door and closes it with a solf click. Like she’s too mad to even show her anger.

  Adrenaline courses through my veins. I won’t let history repeat itself.

  I run to catch up, place my hand on her shoulder.

  “Please, can I just drive you home?”

  “What?” She spins to face me.

  “It’s stupid, I know. But, please. I shouldn’t have let him go home alone that night, and I’m gettin’ all these flashbacks right now.” I’m gasping for breath against the cold February night. Tears burn at my eyes. I blink them back as hard as I can. “At least let me follow you and make sure you get home, alright?” My voice is raspy, arms folded against the chill.

  “Just–” She squints, flicking away more tears. “Just leave me alone.” She purses her lips.

  Not wanting to push, I let her go.

  I’m just the same. Haven’t learned a goddamn bit.

  Hours pass as I sit on the couch, frozen in time. Numb from what happened and unable to accept it, no matter how hard I try. I’m disconnected from reality. Can’t grasp it. Hell, I can’t even get up.

  I haven’t drank water in hours, or eaten dinner yet. Mindy texted me and I lied that I went out to eat with Lexie. It’s easier to lie than to eat.

  I really am just a good for nothing liar, aren’t I? I lied to Lexie. The only woman I’ve ever loved.

  It’s easier to hate myself than to help myself. I need the pain. I need the darkness. I don’t deserve anything better.

  I’ve clicked my screen a hundred times looking for a text or a call I know won’t come. Please be home safe. Please tell me that you’re home safe. I want it to light up with a call from her. For her to come back over here, to say something, anything. If she didn’t ask me to leave her alone, I’d be at her place now begging for forgiveness.

  Me: I’m sorry.

  I send her the text, staring at Cody’s journal until my eyes throb, not knowing why I told her at all. It was a horrible idea.

  Bile rises up my throat and I go to the bathroom, vomiting what little there is in my stomach. Somehow it feels good and right, so I keep it up. Let it all flow out of me. Calories I don’t have to spare. Calories Mindy will notice are missing. Calories that would disappoint my parents. That would disappoint my athletic trainer, my coach, my team. My girlfriend. No, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.

  One less person to hurt.

  I heave again and again. Sore muscles, raw throat, tight jaw, pinched nerves in my shoulder. The insane amount of heartache and the pounding in my head that won’t stop.

  I’ve lost control. I don’t feel like myself. I’m a shadow of the man I wish I was. The one who doesn’t hurt people. Who doesn’t disappoint people. Who has enough faith to heal himself with God’s grace. Who doesn’t hurt her. She’s already been through so much. I was supposed to help her heal. But I’m not that man and now, I’m not her man.

  I never deserved to be.

  Hot tears run out of my eyes. I press my forehead to the cold tile floor.

  I’ve never been enough for her, never been what she deserves. It’s better this way. Nausea hits, a sudden lurching in my stomach. Acid erodes my throat on it’s way out. Purging everything out of my system.

  I’ve missed the way it feels.

  It’s my horrible indulgence.

  Tonight, I welcome it.

  I won’t tell Mindy. Won’t tell anyone. My little secret.

  The only one I have left.

  38

  LEXIE

  “Anger is a secondary emotion. It’s the one to cover up whatever deeper feeling there is. Like our brains can’t handle the reality, so it masks it with anger. Because you feel in control when you’re angry. And sometimes that’s all you need.” My therapist told me.

  I speed all the way to the beach house wondering if I’ll get pulled over.

  I called Trish, and on the third attempt she answered.

  “Can you come to my place? Now-ish?”

  “Yeah…” She’s always been the kind of friend that will drop everything when I need her. And tonight, I need her.

  I should be crying. Instead, I’m enraged. Anger flows through me like a rushing river, washing away any sense of reason.

  Every time I think I finally know who I am and where my life is headed, things are upended. I thought I was the daughter of both my parents. I thought Cody and I would get married and start our own family. Lies. It was all just fucking lies.

  Who even am I? What is real? What is left of me after all of this falling apart?

  It’s not just a breakup. It’s so much more painful than that. I thought I belonged there. With Bobby. I thought I was finally safe. Lies. All just fucking lies.

  Cody pretended to love me. But this isn’t love. Keeping something so fundamental about himself a secret is the opposite of love. I thought I belonged with him.

  And then, oh, then, I allowed myself to think I belonged with Bobby.

  I’ll never belong anywhere. I never have. It’s all a lie.

  The house is dark, covered in shadows of Cody. I storm past my studio because it hurts too much to see all that Bobby did to make it the perfect art space.

  I don’t live here. I haven’t slept here in months. Bobby’s apartment was my home. Bobby was my home. Cody lied to me. Bobby kept secrets from me. My only value to my parents is my propriety.

  My throat throbs as the shaking returns. I have to keep moving to get through this. I go to the boxes with all of the old memories that Cody left behind. I have to find answers for myself, because there is a huge fear wrapping tendrils around me that all of this was right in front of my face and I didn’t see it.

  “Our eyes fill in all the things we cannot see.” It’s a medical phenomenon that Dr. Riche has told us about in class many times. “The eye beholds something, but if it’s an incomplete picture, it will fill in the rest.” I suppose that is why they say that perception is everything. I swear to fuck that the Universe and God and Jesus want me to know that right now, because I’ve been so off in all my perceptions.

  Was it always there and I was just blind? I have to know.

  I was blind about Bobby liking me. Blind to my family growing up. I must have been blind about the two of them, too.

  They were intimate? That passage runs through my head on repeat. Cody loved being intimate with Bobby. And Bobby misses and loves Cody. They were lovers. Truly, completely lovers. Probably closer than Cody and I ever were. It hits with so much weight that I hug my arms, bracing against the pain. My heart feels weak, like it’s gonna forget how to keep beating. Emotions mix together, overwhelming my head with a buzzing euphoria, like I’m floating in and out of conscious awareness.

  I close my eyes, pressing my hand to my heart. Keep going, little heart. We will get through this, somehow.

  I work to ground myself in this moment, looking around the room and trying to remember the coping skills my therapist taught me. Being present is a must in order for me to sort through this.

  Have I been a fill-in to their romance? The warm body they both wished was the other person? It tears me to shreds, like a wet newspaper–each new piece of information ripping at the stuck together pages as they peel apart. Thin, fragile and heavy at the same time. The damage is done. It’s irreparable, too far gone to recover.

  To Bobby, I was just Cody’s memory. He couldn’t be with Cody anymore. Guess I was the next best thing. He used me. I thought we were helping each other through grief. That we could heal those wounds. But I didn’t know what his wounds were. I didn’t know.

 
He didn’t tell me.

  I wanted to have a boyfriend that loved me. Now, I feel so used and so worthless.

  My parents didn’t want me. My fiancé didn’t want me.

  Did Bobby?

  His touch haunts my skin as I shed his hoodie into a pile on the floor, releasing his scent into the air. Damn that laundry soap and Hollister cologne. My throat seizes as I suck down a sob. I don’t want to be here, around these memories, around anything that belonged to either of them. But I have to. I have to know the truth. Maybe something can ease this burden and cleanse this pain.

  I don’t know if that’s possible.

  I go to the boxes, ripping them open without care. My finger burns with a papercut as I pull out journal after journal, cheap notebooks that Cody loved to write all his thoughts in. The ones that cost a dime during back to school shopping, because he couldn’t afford real journals.

  I get lost in these pages, countless entries about his family and baseball, when Cody and I started dating. I stop at the first mention of Bobby, a deep breath preparing me for what I may find.

  Bobby came to dinner with us. I’ve missed him so much. Wish I could talk to him. Wish I could tell him the truth. What really happened. I feel bad about what I did. Will he ever forgive me? He hasn’t even wanted to hang out. How can I blame him? What I did hurt me like crazy. I bet it hurt him worse. How could I? I’m sorry, Bobby. I just wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

  It’s all there. Right in front of me. It’s funny how you can see something so differently once you get a new bit of information. Once it’s viewed through another lens everything looks different, it’s all more clear. It was there all along. I keep reading.

  Lexie looked amazing tonight. I caught Bobby looking at her and lost my temper over it. I didn’t mean to, but I raged at him. Maybe I’m just like my messed up father. Bobby’s really pissed cause I went too far. I’m lashing out at him and he doesn’t deserve it. I told him never to look at my girl again. But really, I wanted to say something different. I wanted to tell him I’m sorry. I’m so freaking sorry.