by Blair Holden
“He hasn’t told you what we fought about before he left?”
“I thought it had to do with what happened with us.” Much as it embarrasses me to bring up the incident in which Cassandra literally ripped my heart open, I have no choice but to allude to it.
“Contrary to what you and Jason seem to think, not everything in my relationship with my other son has to do with you.”
Yikes, she really does hate me now.
“But if you’re trying to figure out what is it that his father and he argued about, then I’d suggest you dig a little deeper because the answer’s obvious. I’m still convinced that the two of you would be better off starting over with people who you don’t have as much history with, but this, well, I think you could be the one to help him out.”
“Cassandra, I don’t need the riddles right now. If you’re trying to test me, playing some messed-up version of Cole Jeopardy, then I don’t have time for it. Tell me, please what happened.”
“Ask him about his knee.”
What? His knee? The reply doesn’t make any sense to me and I say as much to Cassandra; in the time that she’s making me play this guessing game, I could be down in Lan’s apartment, making sure that Cole hasn’t run away.
She sighs, as if I’m obtuse for even wanting to know more than just a part of the anatomy.
“I’m a doctor, I know a problem when I see one, especially if it’s obvious. Cole’s knee has been acting up, and maybe if you took a little more interest in the sport he dedicates so much of his life to, you’d know that he’s conflicted about wanting to keep playing.”
“I…I know that. I know he’s thinking about quitting, …he needs time to think about it.”
“Well, he won’t need to think for much longer if he keeps refusing to get his knee checked out or start therapy. I simply suggested that he get an X-ray, and so did his father. But perhaps the idea of football being permanently off the table is too much for him, especially when he hasn’t figured out Plan B.”
I’m speechless, my mind’s racing with questions, and I’m wracking my brain, trying to think of any incident that could’ve clued me in. Is Cole right? Is Cassandra right? Have I been so wrapped up in my own problems, so opposed to the sport that’s made my life so difficult the past year, that I’ve ignored something that should’ve been right in front of me? I remember instances of him wanting to talk about a problem but then changing the subject. I remember him avoiding questions about his future and how he’s come to resent the game.
“You think that’s what it’s all about? The fact that he thinks he won’t be able to play football again?”
“Depending on how severe the problem is and how much it’ll affect his performance, his fear might be rational.”
I gulp, “But what’s your opinion? As a doctor, what do you think are the odds?” “I can’t say much without an X-ray or examining him, but if you watch some tapes from his games, which his father loves doing, you’ll realize that his movement has deteriorated over the year. I’ve arranged a meeting with his high school coach. I want to know if he was aware that Cole was having problems with his knee.”
“Oh my God, he’s been playing all this time at the risk injuring his knee even more, hasn’t he?”
“An ACL tear is the worst that I suspect, and if he doesn’t stop, he could be making it much worse…”
“Got it, he risks permanently damaging his mobility.”
“So that was part of the argument, the fact that he didn’t tell us so that we could help him come up with other options.”
“And that’s why you suggested that we should go our separate ways, because you want him to change schools.”
“It’s not about the money, even though he wants to pay for college himself. We’ll help him out as much as we can, but I never thought he was a good fit at that school, Ivy League or not.”
I end the call abruptly and toss my phone aside. Luckily the floor is carpeted so I don’t hear the sound of anything breaking. I curl up into a ball, with my knees pulled to my chest and my arms hugging them tightly. There’s so much to take in, so much to think about. I could beat myself up for missing all the signs, for pretending that Cole the QB didn’t exist, for somehow always being the person in the relationship who needed to be taken care of, whose family drama just took over her life.
I could either sit here and wallow about all my poor life choices or I could, for once in my life, take charge and be the one who has to make the tough decisions. There’s a determination in me now that perhaps wouldn’t have been there last year, even last month. And as my mind processes everything that I’ve just learned, a plan begins to take shape.
Chapter Fifteen: I Feel Like I’m the Kevin to Your Nick and Joe Jonas
“You want to go out and get something to eat?” Cami pops her head inside my room, looking a little hesitant. With the way I’ve managed to coop myself up within these four walls for over a day, I don’t blame her being careful around me. She thinks I’m wallowing in self-pity and despair because of my problems with Cole, but I’ve got an internet history ready to prove that instead of wallowing, I’ve been researching, and boy, have I collected some good information. So despite the setback that my conversations with Cassandra and Cole have caused, I decide to live a little, and I let her know that I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.
“So,” Cami’s never one to beat around the bush, and I’m starting to wonder what took her so long to ask me the questions she’s going to probably ask now, “do I want to know what went down yesterday? Lan said he went back to his place last night and Cole’s room was a mess. Well, to use his words, it looked like someone Nutribulleted the space, and apparently Cole had been intending to do more damage.”
It’s not my place to tell her Cole’s secrets, he’ll do that when he’s ready, but what I can do is admit to my mistakes. “I had a come-to-Jesus moment yesterday, or rather Cole was forced to trick my thick brain into it.”
She raises a brow and I explain, “Why didn’t anyone tell me that I made a horrible girlfriend?”
“Because you don’t?”
“Really? So you don’t think it’s unfair that Cole’s always there being my knight in shining armor while I put the entire feminist movement to shame with my damsel-in-distress act?”
“You’re being a little too hard on yourself, don’t you think? So Cole’s a little protective of you, that’s understandable given what a telenovela your life is, and I’m sure if Cole goes through something similar, you’ll do the same for him.”
He did go through something similar, I want to yell at her! He’s still going through it, something big and life changing, and he refuses to share it with me. I hit the back of my head against the elevator wall, closing my eyes and thinking about Cole’s words. While I’d lashed out at him yesterday, he’d only been stating the truth. I’ve never been there for him in the kind of way he’s been there for me. He’s so intuitive when it comes to me, always knowing that I’m upset or suffering just by a look, and he goes all out to make sure that I don’t get hurt. It devastates me that I’ve failed him, that I’ve been so focused on protecting myself, thinking that pushing the football player side of him out of my head and out of my life would help me retain some sense of confidence over our relationship, that I’ve missed something that should’ve been so obvious.
We reach the lobby and I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked because I miss the group of impossibly tall, good-looking guys standing in the middle of the lobby, talking and laughing. One voice in particular snaps me out of my pity party because I haven’t heard him laugh in so long, it feels.
“Oh boy, or should I say boys? I think Christmas came a little early.”
Cami wolf whistles and they all turn around, well, not just them but the other residents passing us by, and they stop to glare at the two of us. I elbow her. “Could you at least pretend you’re not mentally undressing Lan while we’re surrounded by all these people?”
“Yea
h, like you’re not doing the exact same thing with Cole. At least you know what he looks like under all those clothes. I might never find out with Lan.” She pouts and I’m momentarily distracted by the fact that Cole, Lan, Seth, and Jameson, their other two friends from military school, are all dressed up and ready for a night out.
I’m in a pair of jeans and plain white t-shirt.
The four of them approach us before I can make a run for the elevator. As much as I’ve looked up the necessary information and as aware as I am of Cole’s secret, I’m not sure if I can face him right now. I’m mortified about being such a terrible girlfriend to him, not sure at what point I stopped looking for signs that he could be facing his own demons. My cheeks turn red as he walks toward me, his stride confident. Our last exchange has left me feeling a little unsure and almost gun-shy. So I’m surprised when he wraps his arm around me and tugs me to his chest. I stare at his profile, not daring to blink, and try to decipher what’s going on inside his head.
But when Seth and Jameson try to talk to me, I obviously am forced to come out of the Cole-induced haze.
“Tessa, hey, so good to see you again.”
I move out of Cole’s reach to hug both the guys. We’ve hung out just a couple of times during the school year, and again I’m ashamed that I haven’t made more of an effort to make sure that Cole’s okay with leaving me on my own for long enough to hang out with his friends.
Seth’s arms linger a bit too long around me, his hug a lot tighter than Jameson’s reserved one. I hear someone growling in the background and I chuckle. My caveman.
Everyone catches up and I’m glad that there’s no obvious tension between Cole and me, despite some looks we get from Cami when she notices Cole’s hand resting at the small of my back the entire time we’re standing and talking. I don’t know what to make of it, but I don’t push him away. The boys tell us that they are heading to a house party and suggest we come along but I say no. I think the last thing Cole needs right now is to spend more time with me and that’s precisely why he didn’t tell me about his plans. And I think with the recent kicks up the butt, I know when to let him go and when to beg him to stay.
I look at Cami. “You should go, it’s not fair that you’re stuck inside all day with me. It’ll be fun.” I not so subtly nod my head toward Lan, who grins.
“No,” she protests, “you have to come too! I think you’ve stayed inside your room long enough to get cabin fever. I was worried you’d be scribbling all over the walls by the time I came to get you.”
And then it’s obvious. “This was planned, wasn’t it? You knew they were going to the party!” I look at the four of them as they have the common courtesy to look sheepish. Then I look at Cole. “Did you know they were trying to ambush me?”
My heart stops when the corner of his mouth lifts into a half smile. “Not until you two walked out of the elevator, I had to play along after that.”
I look down at my shirt. “I think I still have some toothpaste on this. I’m not going.”
“We can wait for you to change.” Cami crosses her arms over her chest, looking like a woman on a mission.
“No, you guys should go ahead, really. I’m not feeling that great anyway.” It’s a half lie since I do feel a little faint from the lack of food, and queasy from staying up all night with my eyes glued to the computer. Partying is the last thing I’d like to do.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” His eyes run down my body and back to my face, as if trying to find the physical evidence of whatever’s making me feel ill and stomping it beneath his feet.
At least he still cares.
“No, I’m just really tired all of a sudden. You should all go, we’ll hang out tomorrow. You’ll all be hungover and I’ll make breakfast, or, you know, order some.” I can feel Cole’s stare burning a hole into the side of my face, but I don’t look at him.
Everyone’s reluctant to leave me behind, especially Cami, who now looks incredibly guilty, but I give her a quick hug and drop some very obvious hints about Lan before literally kicking them all out the door. Cole’s the last one to leave and although it feels like there’s an ocean worth of distance between the two of us now, I still feel it in my gut that he’s the closest thing to family I have, and it’s when he’s beginning to leave, without a word or even a glance back at me, that I experience the worst kind of pangs in my chest.
Let him go, Tessa, let him go. He needs to come to terms with his future at his own pace, and if and when he needs you, you’ll be there, and you’ll be equipped with the best ways to help him through this. And so I watch them leave, standing there until Cole’s car drives away before heading back up to the room, chin up and shoulders back, and I go back to my lair to continue brainstorming. And as I think of notebooks filled with bullet points and lists, I find myself smiling.
***
It takes him an hour to come back, and I’m proud of myself for not even having obsessively watched the clock or texted him in a moment of weakness. In all honesty, once I’d made my way back to the apartment, I’d eaten Chinese leftovers and then found myself back in front of the computer. I’d emailed a couple of people in a late-night email frenzy and had surprisingly gotten a few replies. Once I got through the emails, I get to the last item on my list, and the reason that it’s the last is because once I get to this particular task, it hits me just how much truth was in Cole’s words. He’s always had to hide a part of him from me, and I’d been much too okay with letting him pretend. So as I watch his game videos, the ones I’d requested to have mailed to me and had sent some very strongly worded emails in order to get them, tears prick my eyes because he’s beautiful on the field. I hardly attended his high school games either, and after some snide comments and shoves and pushes at the few college games Cami dragged me to, I stopped going to them as well.
Self-preservation strikes again.
But now with my eyes glued to the screen, I realize that I should’ve tried harder, that I shouldn’t have let all those mean girls, all those judgmental people, come between the two of us. I missed out and now I might never get to see him play again. I bite my lip, trying not to cry. My real job here is to watch the tapes, see if Cole’s knee is giving him trouble. I’ve watched enough replays of players with torn ACLs to recognize the problem now. Cassandra thinks Cole might have blown his knee out and that if he continues playing without seeking proper medical treatment, he might make the problem worse.
“Oh, Cole.” I see the jerky movements, points where his speed is slower, times when he thinks no one’s watching and he winces in pain. His expressions more than his body give him away, and I touch his face through the screen, wishing that I’d been strong enough to let him share his pain with me.
“You okay?”
Yelping in surprise, I scramble to sit up straight in my bed, hands instinctively shutting the laptop down and setting it aside. My heart’s pounding in my chest as I realize that it’s Cole standing in my doorway and not an ax murderer.
“Jesus, give a girl some warning next time.”
He holds out his palms in apology. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“Surprise? Some nice flowers in the morning are a surprise; this was as much a surprise as the clown my mother hired for my sixth birthday. I had nightmares for years.”
He laughs, one of the first that I’ve heard from him. “Oh man, I almost forgot about him. You spent most of the day hiding underneath the table, didn’t you?”
“And I only came out when Maurice the clown’s wig ‘accidentally’ caught fire. I never really thanked you for that.”
He looks sheepish. “I wanted to eat the cake, and you wouldn’t cut it because you were too busy hiding from him.”
“Sure, that’s why you did it.” I grin and he grins back, the tension between us stalling for a while.
But then I think of yesterday and the words that needed to be said but were so hard to listen to, and I know that we can’t just smile and put it all b
ehind us. We can’t go back to being the old Cole and Tessa because our relationship, for the most part, has been on an unequal basis, and I’ve coasted through it for long enough. Cole sees that my mind’s gone to a different place now, something not quite as fun as my sixth birthday, and his face drops.
He jerks his thumb backward, “I should go. You looked a little sick back in the lobby, so I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.” His face is slightly amused when he notices the headphone cord around my neck, the bag of mini KitKats by my side, and a jar of Nutella on the bedside table with a spoon in it.
Hey, if I had to watch those tapes, I needed to bring reinforcements.
I take the leap. “Actually, do you mind staying? Or can we go out somewhere? I think I’m feeling a little light-headed from being indoors so much.”
I prepare myself to hear the no, that he’s not ready to spend time with me again, but he’s here and he left his friends to check up on me, so I like to think that has to mean something. He’s not going to be opening up to me anytime soon, and I have to be the one who keeps pushing. I’m pushing not because I don’t want him to have his space, I’m pushing because right now he needs someone to talk to and I want to be there for him. He doesn’t need to take me into his arms and profess his undying love for me. If all that he needs is a friend to talk to, then I’ll be that friend for him.
He looks surprised by my offer, but I’m the one who’s shocked beyond measure when he gives me a mischievous smile and looks pointedly toward my shirt, which is smeared with chocolate. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to get ready and then we’ll get some real food into you before your veins start pumping chocolate.”
“Don’t be a hater, dude. Chocolate makes me Zen.” I give him the peace sign and he laughs, because yes, I have a terrible sense of humor.
“Dude? Is that what I am to you now?”
