The Relationship Pact: Kings of Football

by Locke, Adriana

  “But why couldn’t it? Why couldn’t our relationship have been real and worked out?”

  “How would I know? Men have the dumbest excuses for things.”

  “I wasn’t asking you. It was rhetorical.”

  She makes a face. “Fine. But do you think it even matters? Will it change anything?”

  “I have nothing to share with you. And eventually, you’d realize that.”

  His words echo in my brain. I know he believes that to be true. It’s sad that a man like him would believe the least about himself because of how people have treated him in the past. But that’s his truth.

  But it’s not the truth. And even if it was and I wanted him anyway, isn’t that my choice to make?

  “Get your phone,” Bellamy says, snapping me back to reality.

  I look down and see it glowing on the coffee table.

  My heart skips in my chest as I lunge for the device, hoping against hope that it’s Hollis.

  I don’t even care what he wants or if he just wants to come by and get his T-shirt that I put on as soon as I got home. He can even call to tell me I’m mean. I don’t care. I just want to hear his voice.

  But it’s not him. Not even close.

  I groan, getting comfy again. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hey, sweetie. I wanted to see if you had fun last night at Siggy’s.”

  I lean my head back and fake cry.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks.

  “Just … bad timing, Mom.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is Hollis there? Should I let you go?” she asks. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

  I sigh. “You’re not interrupting, and he’s not here. Just Bellamy.”

  “Just Bellamy,” Bellamy mocks me. “Like I’m chopped liver.”

  I ignore her. “What’s up with you?”

  “I’m actually doing laundry. Can you believe that? Laundry on New Year’s Day.”

  “Life goes on.”

  I frown, realizing how true my words are and how much I hate them. I don’t want them to go on.

  They’ll never go on the same way they’ve gone on over the past week.

  It was a taste of something that I’ll probably never experience again—something fun and playful and feel-good. There were no expectations between Hollis and me. Just a pact to pretend to have a relationship that I ended up believing could be real.

  The tears come again from nowhere. They’re silent and wet and hot as they slide down my cheeks. Bellamy watches me from the couch.

  “Are you crying, honey?” Mom asks. “Oh, Riss. What’s the matter?”

  “Well,” I say, my voice shaking, “apparently, Hollis and I are done.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “Do you want the bullshit answer he gave me or the real one?”

  “Bullshit first.”

  “Well, he thinks he has nothing to offer me.”

  “I saw him. I talked to him. I danced with him, for crying out loud. That’s not true.”

  “I know.”

  “So what’s the truth, then?”

  I think of his sweet smile—the shy one I only got to see a few times. I remember the moment of true happiness at the piano and the soulfulness of his voice singing Adele.

  “The truth is … he doesn’t know that it’s okay to be happy. He doesn’t know how to trust people.”

  “Oh, honey.”

  “There’s nothing I can do,” I say, feeling helpless. “I confronted him. I went to him. And he just pushed me away.”

  The phone clicks, and I know I’m on speakerphone again. I roll my eyes at Bellamy.

  “What’s your next step?” Mom asks.

  “I don’t know. Tacos?”

  “Larissa!”

  “What? What the hell am I supposed to do, Mom? I can’t force him to want me.”

  A faucet turns on, and I can hear a glass or a kettle being filled up. And then, finally, she takes me off speakerphone.

  “You’re not giving up that easy, are you?” she asks me.

  “Don’t start.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m not going to chase him down and beg him to be with me. And for heaven’s sake, don’t you even think about trying to set me up with someone else!”

  She gasps. “Why would I do something like that?”

  “Are you serious?” I deadpan. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not kidding. I only set you up with men who I think you might like so that you can find your soul mate. I don’t want you to wait too long to find him. It turns out, you didn’t need me for that at all.”

  I move around in my chair to try to get comfortable.

  “You have to go after that boy, Riss. He’s The One.”

  My eyes well up with tears. “And do what? Cry? Beg? I’ve already done both.”

  Her voice drops. “Have you learned anything from me?”

  I don’t know what she means by that question, so I don’t answer her. There are so many directions it could take.

  “Larissa, darling, listen to me. You have to fight for love. If your heart is hurting, and I know it is, that means something is worth your time to fix it.”

  “But I can’t make him listen to me!”

  She sighs. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told you. Okay? And I don’t want to talk about it. It’s private, and it causes me a lot of pain.”

  “Mom …”

  I sit up in my chair, my heart racing. I have no idea where this is going or if I even want it to go there.

  “When your father left me, he had his reasons. They weren’t great, but he did what he thought he had to do in order for all of us to be happy,” she says, her voice unnaturally even. “But the reason we got a divorce? That’s my fault.”

  This is news to me. I’ve never known what caused their breakup, but now? I don’t know if I want to know. I have too much to process the way it is.

  “I don’t know if I can deal with this right now,” I tell her.

  “Larissa, I didn’t fight for us.”

  It’s a simple sentence, all of six words. But something about it, about the way she says it takes my breath away.

  “Mom …”

  “I didn’t. There was some pride involved, I guess. A lot of it was me being hardheaded and refusing to compromise with him on a few important things. I just let him go because it was easier than working through it and being patient. I cut the ties and moved on … and I’ve regretted that every day since.”

  I still, processing this unusually raw and honest statement from my mother.

  “I love Jack. He’s wonderful, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world. But there’s something sweet about the idea of having lived with your father and raising you that makes me sad that I didn’t try.”

  “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

  “It’s not for you to feel anything. It’s for you to learn.” She sighs. “I met your father when I was young. I was in my early twenties, and I feel like that was such a magical time. That’s why I’m always trying to get you to meet people because I want you to experience that spark, that connection with someone you could grow and change and build something with.”

  My lip quivers.

  I know what she wants for me. I want it too. And I know I had it, if only for a few days.

  “I met that person, Mom.”

  “I know you did. That’s why you have to go get him.”

  “What if he doesn’t want me?”

  “Oh, he wants you,” Bellamy chimes in from the couch.

  I ignore her again.

  “He might fight it. If he really doesn’t know how to trust people, you might have to teach him. And if he thinks it’s not okay to be happy, then you show him how to smile. Because I saw him look at you, and he was smiling, Larissa. It’s hard not to smile when you’re around.”

  I sniffle, not sure what to do now.

  Is she right? Should I show him I
won’t give up on him? On us? Would it make a difference?

  Bellamy gets up and walks by me. She whispers something that I can’t make out. I don’t ask her to repeat it, and I don’t follow her because it’s probably something about snacks.

  “He’s leaving tonight, I think,” I tell my mother. “I think it’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late. But you need a plan.”

  I rest my head on the back of the chair. “But do I? Mom, I’m not sure it matters. His mind is made up.”

  “Is it? Or are you just scared to try?”

  My head throbs, pain pulsing through my temples, and I just can’t do it anymore.

  “I’m going to shut my phone off for a while.” I tell her. “I just … I need to think and not look at it every three minutes to see if he’s called. Because he won’t. I know it.”

  “I understand. Just have some faith, okay?”

  “I’ll try. I love you, Mom.”

  “And I love you, baby girl.”

  I hang up the phone.

  Twenty-Six

  Hollis

  There is sand in my shoe.

  Each step I take feels like I’m walking on tiny little pebbles. It takes my already foul mood and worsens it.

  The sun and the salt didn’t help. Everywhere I turned, there was a reminder of Larissa.

  A blonde in a bikini the same green color as the dress Riss wore to Jack’s event.

  There was a succulent in an oversized terra-cotta pot by the lifeguard’s shack.

  A woman was walking with a black Labrador and a little boy was tossing a football up in the air, as if the universe was taunting me with what could’ve been.

  Is it going to be like this when I get home?

  My suitcase is in the trunk of my car. Check-out has been completed at the hotel. Grandma Judy’s shop was closed, but I shoved a piece of paper under the door and thanked her for everything.

  I’ve sat in this room for a half of an hour and waited to be called to the podium. The Landry’s have created a fun environment backstage and I just can’t enjoy it.

  I think I’m broken.

  Maybe broken-hearted.

  “Hey, Hollis, my man,” Lincoln Landry says, coming into the room. He shakes my hand but then pulls me into a man-hug. “How are you?”

  “Excited to be here,” I say with zero enthusiasm.

  He quirks a brow. “Don’t pass out from all that excitement or anything.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I suck in a deep breath. “It’s been a long week.”

  “That’s what I heard. Hey, while I have you here, can you do me a favor?”

  Can I do him a favor?

  I want to tell him that I’m the guy you call to fuck everything all up, not save the day. But how do you say no to him? You don’t.

  “Of course,” I say. “Whatever you want.”

  He grips my shoulder. “Danielle has a special guest here this evening. She sat her down with some cookies in the back and then vanished. I don’t know if Dani thought I was the entertainment committee around here tonight or what, but you know, I have to pretend to be a professional. I need to be with the people.” He motions toward the stage. “Will you help me out?”

  I’m so, so confused. But it’s Lincoln, so of course I’m going to say yes.

  “Uh, sure. What do you want me to do?” I ask.

  He looks relieved. “Thanks, Hollis. Just, um, go into the blue room. Did you see the area where the refreshments are?”

  I nod. I saw it but didn’t partake. I didn’t want to hurl.

  “Just head back there.” He gives me a wide, million-dollar smile. “I’ll have someone come and get you before it’s your turn. I’ll talk to you afterward, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Um, Lincoln, but I …” But he’s already gone. “Well, shit.”

  I take a deep breath and pull out my phone.

  There are no missed calls or messages. I don’t know why I hoped there would be one. I wouldn’t reach out to me again, either.

  “This is it,” I tell myself as I enter the hallway. “This is the start of the rest of your life. It could’ve gone one direction, but you chose this. Now you get to live with it.”

  The path less traveled has never felt truer.

  I hum a few bars of the refrain that Coy and I were playing together. It’s an attempt to distract myself, but what it really does is remind me that my world was very different not long ago.

  I was at Siggy’s drinking craft beer, making music with one of the hottest musicians in the world … and I had the girl of my dreams smiling at me.

  I want to cry. I want to slide my back down the wall and just collapse on the floor and cry.

  Is this what it feels like to actually want to be with someone? Why would anyone want to feel this way? It’s bullshit.

  I straighten my tie and pause outside of the refreshments room. The other award winners are gathered at the far end of the hall. We laughed and shot the shit earlier. They’re pretty good guys.

  They wave and shout for me to join them.

  “I’ll be there in a second,” I tell them.

  Loosening my shoulders, I step inside the room.

  And then I stop.

  “Grandma Judy?” I ask, bewildered. “I … What are you doing here?”

  She’s wearing a pale blue and white dress with black grandmotherly shoes that look like bricks. She sits, smiling, as I walk toward her.

  “Am I not allowed here?” She laughs. “Come give me a hug, you naughty boy.”

  I press my tie to my chest and bend down. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. I’m taken aback by how natural it feels to interact with her like this.

  She pulls back and fixes my hair.

  “Did you come to make sure I don’t look like a mess?” I ask her, sitting beside her.

  “Heavens, no. I don’t think you could look like a mess if you tried.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “And I think you know that. And I think that’s a part of your problem.”

  “Before we get to my so-called problems, how the hell did you find me here?”

  “Hollis, honey, Savannah is a small town. I’ve known the Landry kids since they were pups. They used to come in and get donuts on Saturday mornings. Barrett, the eldest Landry boy. worked for me one summer to pay his dad back for wrecking his car.”

  I grin.

  “They’re good kids. All of them. Barrett was governor of Georgia. Can you believe that?”

  “Nope,” I say and then laugh. “Judy, I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I’m happy they make you happy.”

  She pats my leg. “Well, anyway, that’s how I found you.”

  I nod my head and sit in silence. She doesn’t speak, just lets me have a moment to wrap my brain around this day.

  Finally, she sighs. “Can we talk about your problems now?”

  “Is that why you came all the way over here?”

  “No. It was to see your sweet little face. But I figure I should lend an ear since I’m here.”

  I sink back against my chair. “There’s been no change in anything.”

  “Meaning you haven’t fixed things with Larissa.”

  I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “I assume you know her too.”

  “I might.”

  “Now who is the rascal?”

  She looks proud of herself. She makes a face and reaches up, fluffing her hair.

  I laugh.

  “Okay, enough playing,” she tells me. “I tried to give you time to come to your senses. Now we’re going to be serious.”

  I get to my feet, wiping my sweaty palms down my pant legs.

  I’m in shock. This has to be shock. This wonderful lady that didn’t know me a week ago came here to see me.

  I feel … less alone.

  Still, I can’t let her presence undermine what is necessary.

  I have to leave. Move forward. Accept the loss, hit the locker room, and get ready for another g
ame tomorrow.

  “I’m going to be fine,” I say. “I’m going to go home, and I’m going to get back to my life that feels a hell of a lot better than this, by the way.”

  “Well, it’s a damn good thing that most people don’t subscribe to that theory, or the human population would be extinct.”

  I quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “Have you ever thought about pushing something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a pea?”

  I make a face. “No. I haven’t. But I get where you’re going with this, and I don’t appreciate the visual.” I shake my head. “I’m never having kids for sure now.”

  “Oh, it’s not like you have to do the work.”

  “But, like, I’ll be the cause of that. Why doesn’t anyone tell kids that in high school? You wanna ruin that pus—never mind.”

  She snorts. “I’m old but not dead, Hollis. I know what you were going to say.”

  “Good. Then I don’t have to say it.”

  “If women lived by your motto, we’d never give birth. Humanity would be wiped out. But we don’t. Do you want to know why?” she asks.

  “Because you like to have sex?”

  “Because, smart-ass, we know that you have to go through some pain to enjoy the pleasure.”

  My lips twitch. “Grandma Judy, I’m letting that one sit right there. I’m not going to touch it.”

  “You won’t when you imagine a watermelon coming out of it,” she says smugly.

  My jaw drops. “Judy!”

  “That was good, huh? See? I still have it together up here.” She taps the side of her head. “I’m quick.”

  “Yeah. Let’s just gently transition this conversation out of the bedroom, okay?”

  She smiles. “Then I’ll get to the point.”

  “Please do.”

  Judy takes a deep breath. “The best things in life require work. Sometimes that means pain. You play football. Doesn’t a win taste a little sweeter after you make a comeback? Or when you score the last shot of the game that you weren’t supposed to hit?”

  “Um, point made but it’s football. Not basketball. And that thing you just said? It doesn’t really track.”

  She runs a hand through the air like it doesn’t make a difference. “It’s the same with having kids. You have to endure the worst pain of your life before you have them. It’s like … sometimes you can’t have the best things if you don’t prove you want it. Why would God bless you if you just walk around with your hand out like a spoiled child?”