When Our Worlds Ignite (An Our Worlds Spin-Off Book 1)

by Lindsey Iler

  “So, now what?” Amanda whispers. “He’s going to want an answer to why you up and bolted. I’m sure if you turn your phone on, you’ll find a message from him.” She retrieves my phone and tosses it in my lap. As if it will burn me, I drop it to the couch cushion.

  “It would have been too hard to stay. To face him in the morning and push him away again.” It would hurt too much to look him in the eyes again and rip him apart.

  “All he’s going to see is you leaving with no explanation. I hate to say it, but I don’t know if there’s any coming back from leaving this time, Vi.” Kennedy taps the blackened screen on my phone. “People can only take so much.”

  “You don’t think I don’t know that?” My legs lead me to pace in front of the sofa. “He doesn’t deserve the half version of me. He deserves the confident, spunky side of me. The girl he fell in love with. She’s in there because she pops up from time to time, but it’s almost impossible to look him in the eye and doubt myself.”

  “Honey, Dan will love you at your worst and at your best, but you need to let him if that’s what you want.” Kennedy stands and pulls her phone out of the purse. She sends out a quick text and turns back to Amanda and me. “Graham wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She tosses her cellphone back into its hiding spot.

  “It is what I want, but I totally screwed it all up.” I throw myself into the armchair and cover my face. “I’m such an asshole.”

  “Being an asshole is a prerequisite for this group of friends,” Amanda says.

  “Why don’t you create a plan? Make a list of things you think you need to do to figure your shit out and then do them,” Kennedy suggests.

  “Like a young-life-crisis bucket list?” Amanda huffs.

  Kennedy rolls her eyes at Amanda’s mocking tone.

  “Yes, maybe you should do one, too,” Kennedy counters. At least I’m not the only one who needs Kennedy’s advice. Misery loves company. “Now, fill in the blanks.”

  A pen and paper with my name at the top are shoved in my face.

  “I don’t even know where to start.” An uncomfortable giggle bubbles in my throat. I’m desperate. If I knew how to fix myself, wouldn’t I have done it before now? “This is stupid. How is this even supposed to work?” The notepad causes a loud thud when it hits the coffee table.

  “Start with something you’ve always wanted to do.” Amanda grabs the pad, readying the pencil to write down my hopes and dreams. Isn’t she supposed to be making her own list?

  “Read a book at a café in Paris,” I offer. Kennedy and Amanda stare at me. “You asked me what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “Okay, I’ll add it to the list, but let’s think a little more locally.” Amanda scribbles my answer and taps her nails against her teeth. “Next!”

  “Pay for someone’s meal,” I blurt and receive a shining smile from my softhearted best friend.

  “That’s a start.” Kennedy wraps her arm around my shoulder and tugs me in close. Her small sign of encouragement helps me believe this isn’t a waste of time. “What else?”

  The quest for “Operation Get Vi’s Shit Together” goes on for hours. We laugh some and cry some, but in the end, the three of us stare at the cork board above my dresser like it holds the answer to life’s mysteries. God, please let it hold mine.

  “It’s a good list,” Kennedy says. Her finger skims down the piece of paper.

  “Now, all you need to do is complete it, and at the end, you’ll feel confident in your feelings and your future with Dan.” Amanda’s matter of fact outlook makes me giggle. She sets my phone I abandoned in the living room on my dresser. “Think of it as self-discovery.”

  “If this doesn’t work . . .” And really, that’s my biggest fear. What if I complete every item and still have no clue who I am? Dan deserves more.

  “It will.” Kennedy chastises me. The hand massaging my arm is another sign of her relentless support. “Now, get some sleep. I think we can knock one or two off the list tomorrow.” She smiles, dragging Amanda from my bedroom.

  When I’m alone, I strip out of today’s clothes. The grime and the gunk from traveling linger on my skin, but I’m too drained, emotionally and physically, to shower before crawling into bed. The welcome darkness allows me to hide. What am I hiding from?

  As if it’s a beacon, my cell phone practically crawls into my hand. When it powers up, the bright screen hurts my eyes. Alerts pop up on the screen, one by one. A few missed texts. One single voicemail. Though I expect it to be there, my heart stops. Be brave. Fuck, who am I kidding?

  “Hey, I’m not sure what happened, Vi.” Dan’s voice breaks. “But if I did something, just know that I’m truly sorry. I never meant to push you. But you being gone when I woke, no letter, no nothing, made it clear to me this isn’t something you even want. God, Violet.” The sadness in his voice is like hot coals raking over my body. “I wish things were different, but if I’m sure of one thing about you, it’s this. You can’t be persuaded into something you aren’t ready for, and you aren’t ready for me.” His deep breath blows into the receiver. “I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but goodbye.”

  Goodbye?

  I cry at the finality of one word.

  *****

  “So, I just go in there and sit down?” My skin crawls as if a hundred ants creep over my arms and legs. “I don’t think I can do this.” Kennedy and Amanda’s hands spin me back around when I attempt to bolt.

  “You’re having lunch by yourself. You aren’t doing open heart surgery.” Amanda rolls her eyes and pushes me toward the entrance.

  “What if someone sees me?” The sweat builds on my palms. I wipe it away, but it’s replaced within a matter of seconds. “I’ll be alone, like an eighty-five-year-old spinster, and I don’t even have a cat.”

  “We’ll be shopping. You get your ass in there and have yourself some lunch. Come find us when you’re done. Violet, you’ll be fine.” Kennedy hooks her arm through Amanda’s, pulling her down the sidewalk, cuddling close to defend against the nip in the air.

  My foot taps on the sidewalk as people come in and out of the restaurant. In my mind, they’re all watching me. No one is watching you. Why do I worry so much about what others think of me? Even when their opinions aren’t relevant, I put more value in them than they’re worth. That’s the whole point of today. Eating lunch by myself. It’s the perfect way to release the hold others have on me. It’s a move in the right direction.

  “How many today?” The hostess smiles as I push through the glass door.

  It’s an easy enough question, but somehow it feels like a ton of bricks has landed on my chest. I had more confidence on the sidewalk, and I was a shit show out there.

  “Just . . .” Anxiety tightens my throat. “Just one today.” Courage, Vi. You must have courage.

  A large majority of girls our age would cringe at the thought of eating lunch alone, and I half expect the hostess to look at me with disgust. When her smile reaches her eyes, I’m pleasantly surprised. See, no one will think twice about you eating lunch alone. The hostess is unaware of what her small gesture has done for my confidence.

  “This way.” She guides me to a small table in the middle of the dining area. The menu is placed in front of me, and she looks as if she wants to say something, but instead, flashes a kind smile and walks away.

  My natural instinct is to reach into my purse and pretend to be busy on my phone. I resist the urge, straighten my back, and browse through the menu. By the time the waiter approaches the table, I’m ready to order.

  “Anyone else joining you today, miss?” the older man asks. His dark hair is liberally sprinkled with silver.

  “Actually, no, it’s just me.” My voice contains a hint of pride. “I’d like to start with the chef’s special.”

  “Excellent choice. I’ll have your drink and the bruschetta out in a few moments.” He clears the extra plates and tumblers from the perfectly set table. The act should be embarrassing.


  “Thank you.” My bright smile seems to relax him. He returns the gesture before setting off toward the kitchen.

  I did it. I’ve managed to make it through the doors, and talk to not one, but two people without dying from embarrassment. Following Kennedy’s advice, I pull out her copy of Me Before You. She claims it’s the perfect book to read while I’m on my quest for discovery. Whatever the hell that means.

  Midway through the first chapter, the waiter brings my iced tea and bruschetta. Lost in the pages, my food disappears without me actually tasting it. When my sandwich appears in front of me, I set the book aside.

  “First time out to lunch on your own?” he asks, cleaning the dirty dishes from the table. He balances them on his arm with finesse he’s perfected through his years of service.

  I cover my mouth with my pristine white napkin as I finish the bite. “That obvious?”

  “You have all the makings of a first-time ‘aloner’.” He winks. “The book makes you appear busy, when in reality, you’re ignoring everything else around you.”

  “You know, I thought it would be more painful, sitting here alone, but it’s surprisingly refreshing.” I never thought I’d say those words. Maybe being comfortable by myself is what it will take to appreciate being with someone.

  “There’s something to be said of being left alone with your thoughts.” He speaks with authority and knowledge only learned through practice. “Please, let me know if you need anything else.” He bows his head before stepping away.

  For the next hour, the kind waiter refills my drink. Halfway through my meal, I ditch the book and simply enjoy my own company. My mind travels to different places, but each of them revolves around the list plastered on my cork board back at the apartment. For the first time, I’m excited to push myself out of my comfort zone and explore the bricks I plan to stack while creating the world I want around me.

  “Thank you so much,” I say to the hostess as I leave.

  Once on the street, I check both ways, wondering where Amanda and Kennedy have run off to. After a quick text, I receive one back and head uptown where they say they’ll be. For the rest of the afternoon, we laugh and gossip. We simply be together. This is something we haven’t done in a long time, and exactly what the three of us need.

  It’s almost nine when we arrive at the apartment. It’s dark, something I’m not quite used to yet with the winter just around the corner. Our arms full of shopping bags, Amanda and I collapse on the couch.

  “I need to head out, girls, but thank you for today,” Kennedy says, a somber expression in place as she stands just outside of the living room. “We really need to do this more often.”

  “It’s been too long, but we’re all busy. It’s understandable.” I help ease her mind. Maybe I’m not the only one who feels the guilt of our distance.

  “Never too busy for you.” Kennedy leans down and kisses my forehead. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” She turns her attention to Amanda. “Make sure she knocks a few more off that list before the weekend.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Amanda salutes as Kennedy leaves the apartment. “Now, how are you really doing?” she asks me as soon as we’re alone.

  “I’m good. Lunch was madness, but it felt nice,” I explain.

  “You know what I mean, Vi. You’ve always put on a brave face for Kennedy.” Her lip turns down. “I get it. I really do, because I do it, too.”

  “She’s just so damn perfect, right?” This makes us both laugh. The sensation of happiness bubbles in my belly. I grip my middle to try to hold onto it for a bit longer.

  “She really is. So tell me what’s going on in that head.” Amanda leans her head on my shoulder. Our bags pool at our feet.

  “What if, after all this, I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing?” I voice my deepest fear. There is no guarantee I’ll feel any more confident after each item is checked off. It’s worth the risk, though, isn’t it? If it all works out.

  “I understand why you want to be the best version of yourself, but what’s the point?” She sits up and faces me. “If you can’t be a mess in front of Dan, then the rest of humanity is screwed.”

  “It’s not just that. It doesn’t make the most sense, but in my head, it does.”

  “You haven’t been yourself for a while. I’m willing to help in any way as long as I get my smart-mouthed, spunky, son of a bitch best friend back.”

  “I’m working on it.” I stand, grab the bags off the floor, and put them in my room.

  “You better be,” she calls out.

  “Speaking of being willing to help, what about you and the secret phone calls and the late night gigglefests?” I poke my head out.

  Amanda has been keeping her own secrets. She thinks she’s sneaky, but these walls are thin.

  “What are you even talking about?” She grins.

  Amanda has unknowingly left small bread crumbs. The more I try to avoid my own shit, the more my interest is piqued in others. She thinks she’s sly, but I see the way she hovers over her phone. It’s never left out, and she keeps the screen hidden when we’re in the same room. Otherwise, I may intercept a message not intended for me to see.

  “See you in the morning. Tell the mystery guy I said hello.” I disappear into my bedroom and quickly undress, crawl under the covers, and drift to sleep with a little more hope than I had yesterday.

  The few days I’ve skipped classes have more of an impact than I’d imagined they would. Even though I’d scheduled it on days with no tests and a few teammates covering notes for me, obviously it’s not enough. Now that I’m back on campus, my nerves are shot, and an overwhelming feeling clouds most of my day as I try to play catch up.

  “What’s going on with you?” Bradley tosses the ball across the gym, straight into my glove. “You’ve been MIA. Brittany stalks around the apartment cursing your name. You’ve been moping around and working out more than usual. Baseball hasn’t even started, and you’ve spent more time in this gym than you do during the season. I think I even saw you at the library studying.”

  Brittany and Bradley are roommates. Why a guy would want to room with a broad unless he’s getting something on the regular, is beyond me, but it’s very obvious the two of them are platonic. No flirting. No touching. They’re sort of an anomaly to the rest of our teammates. I understand having friends that are girls. Most of my closest friends are of the female persuasion, but I still suspect, when Brittany and Bradley find themselves drunk and lonely, they don’t hesitate to take out their frustrations on each other.

  “Brittany’s still pissed about me putting her on a plane.” And I still feel guilty. The way I treated her goes against everything my dad has taught me.

  “She said it had something to do with that Violet chick.” He tucks his mitt under his arm and comes to stand beside me.

  We lean against the fence as we cool down. Maryland’s cool falls and unpredictable winters are why this facility was built a few years ago, allowing us to train, even in the offseason.

  “Violet, my ex-girlfriend.” I hate the way that sounds. Ex- isn’t how I’d prefer to describe her or our situation.

  “If I were you, I would’ve capitalized on the situation. A girl like Brittany would’ve played along.” He wiggles his eyebrows. My eyes squint in his direction, giving my disgust away. “Okay, man, I get it. You’re a one-woman man.” He holds up his hands in defense. “So, what happened?”

  “Let’s just say it all started out great, but ended badly.” My mind shifts from why I’m in the gym to where Violet and I left off. You mean before she left you high and dry in the middle of the night?

  “Like most of my dates.” He grins.

  “Our friends from high school took it upon themselves to try to force us back together. It worked until it didn’t anymore,” I explain.

  Getting the weight of the situation off my chest brings a sliver of relief. If it weren’t for our best friends, we’d have never ended up together at the cabin. R
esentment is still present, but I’ll never regret what happened in those few days.

  I stumble trying to get my mitt off my hand. “Fuck,” I shout, shaking my head. “She has me bent out of shape.”

  “Clearly.” Bradley pats me on the shoulder. “Now, can we get back to pretending we’re actually working out? I heard Coach wants to put cameras up, so he can watch us even when he’s at home.” He glances around the facility, and I follow his lead. Nothing pops out, but I wouldn’t put it past the old bastard.

  Before Coach McCarthy came to Maryland almost fifteen years ago, he’d coached a state championship team in Ohio. Rumor has it he was fired for being too hard on his players. While I have no trouble imagining it’s true, at the end of the day, the team knows he’s doing us a favor by molding us into players who listen and respect authority.

  “I’m going for a run.” I throw my mitt into my bag and take a deep swig of water.

  Escape is just what I need. Music blares in my ears as my tennis shoes pound the sidewalk. Everyone sidesteps to give me space as I chase the release I’m desperate to have. The last two weeks weigh heavy in my mind. For two weeks, Brittany, Violet, and my future have weighed heavily on my mind. A stack of brick would be more comfortable.

  An incoming call fades my music. Graham and Kennedy - Home flashes on the screen. What twenty-somethings have a home phone?

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I say into the microphone on my headphones. “Calling to apologize again?”

  “Actually, no, because I’m not sorry. I didn’t have anything to do with that mess,” Rico says.

  “Oh, it’s you. I saw the home number and thought you were Kennedy calling to grovel again.” I stretch out my hamstring against the tall tree next to the sidewalk. “What’s up?”

  He’s officially relocated to the apartment above the garage, but still spends a lot of time at the house. Graham even charges him rent. Whether it’s paid on time is anyone’s guess, but Rico’s move has made the whole adoption process less complicated.