Long Ball(31)

“Please, Megan.” I beg, and she finally goes silent. “This isn’t what it looks like. I asked her to go with me months ago and I would have felt horrible about backing out on her. This is all staged, I swear.”

“Right.” I can practically feel her venom. “Why didn’t you tell her you had a girlfriend, and invite me? A normal, decent human being would have done that. A normal, decent human being would have understood.”

Shit. “I didn’t think…” I swallow. “I don’t know, Megan. I didn’t think you’d want to go.” I finish meekly, realizing what a shitty excuse it truly is.

“Oh, because I’m so plain and poor, right? Because I could never look like the kind of girl you need on the red carpet, right?”

“I never said that! That’s not what I— “

“I can’t live like this, Jamie, always wondering if you’re cheating while you’re traveling.”

“I have never! Megan, listen, this is just a huge misunderstanding and I’m so sorry I didn’t invite you, okay? I wanted to, but I really thought you wouldn’t want to be involved. You don’t seem overly fond of my status around town— “

“Oh.” Her voice is frighteningly calm. “So this is my fault?”

“What? No! No! That’s not what I’m saying. Listen, I’m f*cking all this up, I know that. Can I come over, and we can talk about this face-to-face? I can explain— “

“How can I ever trust you belong only to me, Jamie?” She bites. “How?”

I falter, because I realize I don’t have anything to say. I can’t justify what I did. I can’t justify the fears running through my head on the way to the gala. I can’t justify taking Shelbie, even though she would have easily understood not going.

I don’t have anything to say.

“I just… you have to trust me. I would never hurt you.”

“Too late.” She hangs up.

I spend the next hour calling her. Eventually the calls go straight to voicemail. She turned off her phone.

Just like that, I feel everything I’ve ever wanted slip right through my fingers.





10





I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in two days. The night of the charity ball spins through my head on loop, reminding me of everything I did wrong. Of how I tried to respectfully keep my distance from Shelbie, but I still noticed her tits in that dress. I noticed how her ass was perfectly framed. I didn’t shy away from touching her waist. I let her kiss my cheek.

Just because I noticed doesn’t mean I acted. I’d never. I kept my eyes above her chin as much as I could. I thought of nothing but Megan. I avoided Shelbie once the cameras were gone. But none of that matters. None. Because I’m just a piece of shit who treated Megan like trash, just like everyone before me.

Just like every other little boy who got to spend time with my daughter. I think that guts me the most: Cora. I’m losing Cora.

Megan is the woman for me. I just know it. I feel it deep down in my soul. I know it more than I know my own name. We belong together as a family. Losing her would be like losing a limb, tragic and terrible, but something I’d eventually have to get used to.

Cora, though? The little girl who stole my heart on an inner city bus, and who looks just like my little sister, and who is literally a living part of me? There’s no coming back from that. I need them both in my life like I need oxygen, and I’ve somehow managed to destroy any chance of that.

Coach pulls me aside before the game. “What’s going on, Bonilla?”

“Nothing, Coach.” I try to put on my best face, prove there’s nothing wrong with me, that I’m not slowly losing my mind, body, and soul because of the demon in a tight dress. “I’m fine.”

He studies me carefully and shakes his head. “Your head is gone.”

“No it’s not, Coach. I swear.” I can’t lose this, too. I can’t.

“You’re out tonight. Take the night off, get your shit together.”

“Coach!” I plead. “I can do this. Don’t bench me tonight, please. I’ve got my shit together, I swear.”

“We’re too close to the postseason for any mistakes, Bonilla.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know if this has to do with Octivio and that girl— “

The knotted ball in my stomach clenches and tightens even more.

“—but you need to sort out your priorities. Take the night. Prove to me you can play tomorrow.” He leaves.

I punch my locker door and scream, “Shit!”

All of the guys leave me alone. No one says a word to me and Octivio actually looks a little scared. I glower at him from across the locker room and envision pummeling the shit out of him. This is all his fault. He knows it, I know it, and now I’m going to kill him.

“Easy.” Doug puts his hand on my shoulder and leans in close. “Octivio is a piece of shit and you don’t need to be fined or kicked off the team, okay? He’s not worth it.”

“He ruined everything,” I mutter, fists clenched.

“I know, I know. But he’s not worth it.”

“I don’t think you know.” I shrug him off. Doug doesn’t get it. None of these guys do. I’m one slippery slope away from losing everything important in my life. My soulmate. My daughter.