Going Long (Waiting on the Sidelines #2)(20)

“I just had a miscarriage,” I said, slapping my hand over my mouth and closing my eyes tight trying to force the reality back into hiding.

I felt Chris’s hands on my wrist again, pulling my hand from my face and forcing me to look at him. “Okay. That’s definitely what led to you passing out. And it’s okay, Nolan. Do you hear me? It’s okay. You probably shouldn’t be working out now, though. You are likely extremely dehydrated, and your body is exhausted. Do you…I mean have you…talked to anyone?” Chris was being careful with me. I didn’t like feeling so weak, so I straightened my posture and shook my head with my last vestiges of confidence.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, forcing myself to stand and dry my tears. My legs still felt wobbly, but I wasn’t going to let anyone here see that.

“Okay, well…you really need to see someone. It can help. What happened…it’s not something that’s uncommon. But it’s also not something that is easy to deal with always,” Chris seemed uncomfortable. So was I.

“I’m fine, really,” I forced again, giving him a flat smile and willing him to drop it.

“All right, I hear you. I’d just feel better if you at least met with one of the physicians at the health center today. Hmmmm?” Chris nodded at me, begging me to consider.

“I have an appointment Tuesday,” I was defensive now, even my false pleasantries gone.

He just stared at me in silence for a few seconds, considering his move. “I’m not trying to be intrusive. I’m only looking out for your health here. You shouldn’t wait until Tuesday. Maybe just drop by for an urgent care visit, huh?” he was really trying. I gave in and nodded.

I saw Gavin walking up with the bottle of water, and I reached out to shake Chris’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate your advice,” I forced a closed mouth smile then grabbed the bottle of water from Gavin. “Can you walk me to the Health Center, and then home? It seems I’m dehydrated and need some rest.”

“Sure,” Gavin said, pulling my arm over his shoulder once again, letting me lean most of my weight on him. “Let’s go. Thanks for looking her over.”

Chris the trainer just smiled tightly, nodding, and packed up his small, useless box. I made eye contact with him and could tell he had thought he’d put my puzzle together. But he wasn’t even close.





Reed


I’d managed to sleep hard last night after going a few rounds with Jason. He was already bitching about having to take my dad to an appointment next week in Tucson, like it was some major inconvenience—never mind the fact that he’d be driving into town to take care of business at the Tucson dealerships anyhow.

Sometime over the past year, I’d started challenging my brother. I don’t know if it was something that changed inside of me, maturity perhaps, or if my brother had just managed to become yet an even bigger *.

Dylan stopped by my pop’s house on her way from Tucson to Phoenix to run through a few scenarios with me and to pass along some messages from her father. We sat at the counter and went over some things and Jason—not to miss out on the attention from a hot blonde—pulled up a seat to join us, quickly taking over the conversation. Dylan seemed to be annoyed by his presence at first. But when I mentioned some of my hesitation over everything and how it was going to affect Nolan, she was suddenly won over by my dickhead brother’s insensitivity.

“You’re such a * over that girl. When you go big time, you’re going to have chicks throwing themselves at you. You’ll be so over your cute, little high school f*ck. Don’t make life decisions because of it,” he said. What a dickhead. I hated him.

I just stood at his words, looked at Dylan, who was smirking at my brother’s comments, and told her I was done for the night and would call her next week. I shoved my brother from his barstool so hard that he fell to the floor, and I went upstairs. To think there was actually a time in my life when I looked up to that prick.



I was starving by the time I woke up for breakfast. It had been months since I’d been able to sleep in past 8 a.m., let alone until 10. I threw on a pair of shorts and my old high school championship shirt and jogged down the stairs only to find Jason sitting at the breakfast bar, sheets of his newspaper spread out across every inch of surface and a plate of waffles stacked in front of him.

“Mornin’ shithead,” he said, raising his cup of coffee and not looking up from his paper.

“Fuck off,” I said right back at him.

When I realized Rose was there, finishing up a plate for me and prepping a breakfast tray to take upstairs to dad, I instantly felt embarrassed and guilty for using those words in front of her. Rose had known me almost as long as my parents and was, in many ways, like an aunt to me. She’d lost her husband years ago and had two grown sons that were both in the military, lifers she always said. I think it made her lonely, which is probably why she didn’t mind spending so much time with my pops.

“Sorry, Rosie,” I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, which she had extended out for me.

“It’s okay, mijo...,” she urged me to come in close, then whispered, “he deserved it.” She gave me a wink and then slid my plate on the counter and retreated upstairs with a full breakfast spread for my dad.

I picked at my plate a bit before diving in, my stomach rolling with hunger pangs, but also conflicted with anger at my brother and what he said about Nolan. I was pretty sure he knew how pissed off I was because he had buried his face in the business section and refused to even glance my way. I just stared at him while I drenched my waffles in syrup, fighting the urge to send my fist through his jaw. “You’re such a dick,” I said a little under my breath. I bowed my head and took a bite but could tell he had glanced up when I said it, tilting his paper down for a second, and then raising it back up.