Hate the Game

by Renshaw, Winter

  The campanile chimes twelve times.

  I should probably catch the bus back to Aunt Bette’s.

  My stomach swirls, anxious at the thought of asking her if Talon stopped by today. Part of me hopes he did, the other part hopes he didn’t.

  With my bag in tow, I trek to the nearest bus stop and wait for the blue line bus.

  If I’m going to get through these next two months, I need to toughen up and stop feeling sorry for myself. It’s not the first time I’ve been floating on a breeze only to have life knock me down … and it won’t be the last.

  Life has always, always been consistent like that.

  I should be used to it by now.

  Chapter 44

  Talon

  I return home expecting to walk into a quiet, empty apartment, only to find my living room couch occupied by three of the last people I want to see right now.

  “Get out,” I say to Mark, Ira, and my mother.

  They exchange looks, none of them trying to move. On the coffee table in front of them is a stack of white papers with Richmond’s logo along the masthead.

  “What is this, a fucking contract intervention?” I ask.

  “Sweetheart, we’re only trying to help.” Mom is the first to break their silence. She stands, gingerly making her way across the room to where I stand, but when she gets here, she keeps a careful distance, like she’s dealing with some kind of unstable basket case.

  And maybe they are.

  They took the one thing I loved, the first thing I ever truly loved, and ripped her out of my life without warning.

  “All of your dreams are about to come true, Talon,” Mom says. “All you have to do is sign.”

  I think about what Irie said last weekend, that I loved the game once, I can love it again. Deep down I know she’s right. I could sign the contract, I could love the game again. But standing here, in front of three people who couldn’t give a shit less about what I love and what I want, makes the idea of giving in a bitter pill to swallow.

  “Don’t you mean all of Mark’s dreams?” I shoot him a look. Funny how quiet he’s being. I imagine the little bombshell I dropped on him earlier this week has got him feeling tongue-tied today. “Fuck football. And fuck you, Mark.”

  “Talon.” Mom gasps, her hand splaying over her chest. “I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like ever since you met that girl, you’ve become a different person.”

  “Don’t put this on her.” My words slice through the small apartment. “Leave her out of this.”

  “We get that you loved her,” she says.

  “Love,” I correct her. “I love her.”

  “Honey, I know you’re hurting right now and break ups are never easy, but—”

  I knew it.

  I fucking knew it.

  “What did you say to her?” I ask. “Huh? What’d you say to get her to leave me?”

  She turns back to Mark, who gives a subtle shake of his head. I’m sure whatever she said, whatever she did, Mark was the puppet master behind it all.

  “What. Did. You. Do?” I ask again, teeth gritted.

  “Talon …” Mom looks like she’s two seconds from turning on the waterworks, but I don’t have time for this shit.

  So I leave.

  I go.

  I get in my car and I drive to Bette’s—again.

  And if Irie’s still not home, I’ll sit and wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m trotting up Bette’s walkway and knocking on the door. The sound of footsteps on the other side is a relief, even if they don’t belong to Irie.

  “Hello again,” Bette says when she answers.

  “Irie isn’t back by chance, is she?” I ask, realizing how breathless and worked up I am.

  “Oh. Um …” Bette presses her lips into a thin line. “I don’t know that this is such a good time for a visit, Talon. Maybe try again another—”

  “Aunt Bette, it’s fine,” Irie interrupts, stepping out from behind her great aunt. “I’ve got this. It’s okay.”

  “You sure?” she asks. I look past Bette to find her friend, Brynn, in the mix as well. It kills me to think about what she’s been going through today, all of it at the hands of Mom and Mark.

  Irie nods as she makes her way out to the front stoop and Bette closes the door behind her.

  “I don’t know what they said to you, Irie,” I begin. “But whatever it is, you don’t have to listen to them. This … us … it’s not their decision.”

  Her arms are folded and her gaze is steady on her bare feet.

  “You know the other night when I asked what you wanted in life? Everything you listed off … those are the things I want too,” I say. “And I want them with you.”

  Her glassy eyes lift onto mine, but she doesn’t say a word.

  “You know why this is so complicated?” I ask. “Because it’s real.”

  She’s still quiet, contemplative.

  “I want a future with you. And I don’t know how to make that happen given our current circumstances, but it’s something we have to figure out together,” I say.

  “Your mom threatened my career,” she finally speaks. “She told me if I didn’t leave you, she’d have me blacklisted. She even threatened to call Kira Kepner.”

  “Seriously?” Of all the things my mom is capable of, playing hardball like that, being ruthless, has never been her forte. “That has Mark written all over it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t signed the contract yet?”

  “I don’t know … because I hadn’t made a decision yet.”

  “Were you planning to sign it at all?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know, Irie. I don’t know.”

  “They said the deadline is today. Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to sign it.” She lifts her chin, looking me square in the eyes. “Regardless of what your mother said, I love you too much to let you to throw your future away just to be with me.”

  “Come to Richmond. Start a life with me there.”

  “My job is in Malibu.”

  “I’ll take care of you,” I say.

  She puffs a breath between her full lips. “I don’t want to be taken care of. And this is my dream, my passion. I didn’t go to college for four years just so I could do nothing.”

  “Then get a job in Richmond. Hell, I’ll front you the money to start your own design firm.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  Reaching for her, I untangle her folded arms and pull her nearer. “I don’t understand. I’m offering you the world, I’m giving us options, and you’re refusing to so much as consider any of it.”

  She bites at her trembling lip, glancing away.

  “I have to sign that contract, Irie,” I say, exhaling. “At the end of the day, I know it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I know I’ve worked for this my entire life. And you’re right, somewhere, deep down, I fucking love the game. I was born to play, even if I’ve been feeling burnt out the last several years. But I also know that you’re a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There’s never going to be another you in my life, another us. So I’m asking you, one last time, to come with me. Let’s build the best life together, you and me against the world. I’ll give you that home you’ve always wanted, that stability and meaning you were talking about the other night.”

  She swipes at a tear that falls down her rosy soft cheek.

  “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in the world,” I say.

  “And yet you barely know me.”

  “I know enough,” I say. “And imagine how much more I’m going to love you when I get to know the rest of you.” I manage to get the tiniest smile from her lips. “Please, Irie. I don’t want to take Malibu away from you, but I can’t walk away from this contract. And it’s not because I want to be some rich, famous athlete. I keep thinking about what you said that night in Iron Cross … about me being someone’s hero someday. And I keep think
ing about all the good I could do with that. Things that would make you proud. But I want to do those things with you by my side. You make me a better person. You bring out the best in me. I can’t be that guy if I don’t have you.”

  “Sure you can.”

  “My entire life, I was told to be a good ball player. You’re the only person who’s ever pushed me to be a good human being.”

  Irie pulls in a long, slow breath, staring deep into my eyes. “And what if it doesn’t work out? What if I give up Malibu, move to Richmond, and by the end of the year we’re sick of each other and you’re sitting on the top of the world and I’m jobless and homeless and—”

  “—Irie, Irie,” I take her hands in mine. “Stop thinking about everything that could go wrong and start thinking about all the ways it’s going to go right for us.”

  “You paint the most beautiful pictures with your words, Talon,” she says. “And while I want all that, while it all sounds amazing … you have to understand what a risk that would be for me. If this doesn’t work, I have nothing. I have no one. You have a family, you come from money, you have a safety net that I don’t have.”

  “Everything is a risk. You moving to Malibu is a risk. There’s no guarantee that’s going to work out either.”

  “You can’t compare a job offer to a relationship …”

  “I didn’t wait almost four years to finally have you, just to let you go. If I didn’t care about you, I would’ve screwed you and walked away. I wouldn’t be asking you to move to Virginia with me, to start a life together.”

  “Talon …”

  “You’re terrified and I know that. But you need to trust me. Do you trust me, Irie?”

  She considers my question, gazing up at me with uncertain eyes before finally offering a simple, “Yes.”

  Without saying another word, I lift my hand to her face, angle her mouth toward mine, and crush her lips with an owning kiss.

  “I love you so damn much,” I tell her. “I promise you, Irie, you’re not going to regret this.”

  With that, I trot back to my car.

  “Wait … where are you going?” she asks, taking a few steps off the front stoop.

  “I have a couple things I need to take care of,” I call after her. “I’ll get a hold of you tonight.”

  With that, I’m gone.

  A man on a mission, I head back to my apartment, calling Ira on the way.

  Chapter 45

  Irie

  “Irie, what brings you in today?” Kira asks from her side of her desk Friday afternoon. “Everything okay?”

  I take a seat across from her, crossing my legs and clearing my throat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn down that job offer.”

  Kira’s mouth is agape and her hands are splayed on her white-washed oak desktop. “What? What happened? Did you get a better offer somewhere else?”

  “No, no,” I say. “Your offer was … extremely generous … but—”

  “—then what happened?” she asks, wild-eyed.

  “I … I know how this is going to sound,” I say, half-chuckling. “And believe me, this isn’t a decision I came to lightly … but I met someone recently … and he’s asked me to move to Virginia with him after graduation.”

  “Oh, honey.” Kira rests her chin on her hand, looking like a big sister about to give her kid sister a talking to. “Are you sure this is what you want? You want to throw away your career over some boyfriend?”

  “I’ll be honest,” I say. “I’m terrified.”

  She laughs.

  “But I think this is something I need to do,” I say.

  Kira sighs. “I mean … I get it. I guess. I’ve been there. I’ve been young and in love. I know what it’s like when your heart speaks louder than your head. It just … it blows for me, losing such talent. I was really looking forward to adding you to my team. I had big plans for you in Malibu.”

  My chest is heavy with that loss. “I know. I’m so sorry. I was excited about it too.”

  “Listen,” she says, tucking her glossy onyx hair behind both ears before leaning closer. “If it doesn’t work out with this guy, you call me and I’ll see if I can find a place for you on my team. It might not be in Malibu and it might not be a lead designer position, but if I can fit you in, I will. That’s how much I believe in you, Irie.”

  The tension in my shoulders seems to dissipate with her words and I find myself breathing a little easier all of a sudden.

  I didn’t come in here expecting anything from Kira.

  Now I’ll be leaving with a safety net.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her.

  “Two hundred percent,” she says.

  “Wow … thank you … so much.”

  “Of course, of course.” Kira checks the Hermes Apple watch on her left wrist. “I’ve got a phone call in a few minutes, so if there’s anything else you wanted to go over …?”

  “There is one thing,” I say as I rise from the chair.

  “Shoot.” She stands.

  “My boyfriend’s mother is Camilla Masterson,” I say.

  Kira smiles. “Oh, Camilla. Right. I interned for her back in the day. We still keep in touch sometimes. What a small world!”

  “Right.” I gather my thoughts and a hard breath. I debated bringing this up at all but with my future at stake and Kira’s generous offer, it seems like the right time. “Her son is Talon Gold, the quarterback for PVU.”

  “That’s your boyfriend? Lucky …”

  “He’s going to be playing football for Richmond, which is why I’m moving out east,” I say. “But he almost didn’t accept the contract … and Camilla thought it had to do with me, so she asked me to break up with him. She told me if I didn’t, she’d make a phone call to you and then she’d have me blacklisted.”

  The loudness of Kira’s laugh sends a small startle to my heart. I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. A second later, she dabs the tears from her eyes.

  “Oh, Camilla,” she says, chuckling and rolling her eyes. “She always had a flair for the theatrics. Anyway, I’m sorry if she scared you but rest assured, Camilla Masterson has no pull in this industry, not anymore, not since she married that developer and became a Real Housewife of Laguna Cove. And besides, I didn’t get to where I am today by letting other people tell me what to do and who to hire.”

  Camilla walks around her desk, slipping her lithe arm around my shoulder as we head out of her office.

  “Anyway, Irie, best of luck,” she says. “And remember, if it doesn’t work out with the quarterback, you call me.”

  Chapter 46

  Talon

  I sign my name a grand total of eleven times, sliding the completed contract across the table to Ira, who grabs it like he’s Indiana Jones and it’s some priceless crystal skull.

  The energy is tense. No one has said more than a couple of words.

  “There,” I say, glancing around the packed restaurant. An hour ago, I asked them to meet me here. I didn’t want them in my apartment again—that place is sacred ground, intended for good times—and good souls—only.

  Ira folds the stack of papers neatly in half before tucking it into his inside jacket pocket.

  Mom and Mark exchange looks, and I watch as he reaches for her hand across the table, giving it a squeeze as if to say, “We did it!”

  I try not to think about how happy this makes them, instead focusing on what this means for Irie and me.

  “We’re so happy you came around,” Mom says before attempting to flag down a waiter, presumably for some champs. “You have no idea how proud Mark and I are of you, Talon. Truly. We can’t wait to watch you play in Richmond. In fact, I was thinking maybe sometime this month we could take a trip out there and do a little house hunting? Something for you … something for us …”

  “Just give us a budget, Tal. We’ll try to stick to it.” Mark wears the smuggest smirk I’ve ever seen, one that makes all his others pale in comparison.

  Mark’s re
al estate development empire is one of the biggest in all of Southern California. He doesn’t need my money. He doesn’t need handouts or a free McMansion—he feels entitled to it.

  He thinks he earned it.

  “Yeah, that won’t be happening,” I say before rising from the table.

  “Talon, where are you going?” Mom asks, peering up at me with brows too Botoxed to furrow.

  “I signed the contract. Now I’m out,” I say, dropping the pen against the white tablecloth.

  “But we’re not finished yet,” she says. “Let’s talk about the move. Let’s talk about the housing situation. All the fun stuff. I could even come out and help you decorate. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “Irie … Irie will be decorating my home. Our home,” I say. “So thanks, Mom. But no thanks.”

  Her joyous-yet-confused expression fades.

  “Threatening her career, by the way? Class act,” I say. “Way to go. You should be really fucking proud of yourself.”

  “Watch your tone,” Mark chides, puffing his pathetic marshmallow chest.

  “And you,” I say. “Don’t act like you weren’t behind any of that. I’m sure you told her exactly what to say. You’ve always been good at that … getting people to do what you want them to do. All you have to do is threaten something … or someone … they love and they do whatever you tell them to do. Right, Mark?”

  Mom’s attention snaps to Mark. “What is he talking about?”

  “I’m sorry, but the two of you have no business being married,” I say. “Mark, you’re a goddamned user and a liar and Mom, you’re too out of it to function half the time, the other half of the time you’re acting like some puppet on a string, doing his dirty work. Honestly, I’m embarrassed for the both of you.”

  Ira sits in stunned silence, pretending to read his menu.

  “Irie’s moving east with me,” I say. “We’re starting a life together, without the meddling and the drama and the projecting and the manipulating. I will not be buying you a house, but you’re welcome to watch the game on TV from the comfort of your own home.”