The Locker Room(81)

Emory: Well, I just want to make sure you remember. It seems like you tend to forget whenever we’re near each other.

Knox: It’s because I’ve never in my life wanted anyone more than I want you.

Emory: Knox . . . please don’t say things like that.

Knox: You can ask me to stop, but I never will. I’ll never stop wanting you.





Six Months Post Breakup

Emory: Are you nervous?

Knox: No, but I wish you were here.

Emory: I flew home early.

Knox: I know, without saying bye.

Emory: Please don’t be mad. I don’t think I could have said bye in person.

Knox: You owed me a proper goodbye, Emory, but instead you snuck away.

Emory: I didn’t sneak away, I . . . hell, I didn’t trust myself. The distance is good.

Knox: The distance is bullshit.

Emory: Knox, don’t. This is a huge day for you, and I want to celebrate it.

Knox: If that’s how you truly feel, you’d be here.

Emory: Don’t start a fight, please.

Knox: What the fuck, Emory? Two weeks ago, you were in my bed, letting me hold you all night and then you just up and leave without even a goddamn goodbye? And then text me out of the blue as if everything is okay? It’s not fucking okay. You’re fucking with my head.

Emory: I’m fucking with your head? You’re the one who keeps tempting me, stroking my arm, leaning in to me to whisper in my ear. I can only be so strong, Knox. This isn’t fucking easy on me either.

Knox: And yet, here we are, acting as “friends.” Great plan.

Emory: Don’t be an asshole. You promised friends first.

Knox: Because I wanted in your pants, not because I wanted to be friends.

One hour later.

Knox: Emory, I didn’t mean that.

Knox: Please, don’t shut me out. I’m sorry. I’m just so goddamn frustrated with this entire situation. I miss you. You didn’t say bye. Fuck, I want you here.

Knox: Answer your phone.

Knox: Em, please . . .

Emory: Congratulations on being drafted. The Bobcats are lucky to have you. Good luck.

Knox: Emory, please answer your goddamn phone.

Knox: Em, please. You promised friends forever.





One Year Post Breakup

Knox: Trained with Coach Disik over winter break. Heard he asked Mrs. Flower out on a date. Did you know that?

Emory: He’s been coming into the library to “check out” baseball books. I had to direct him on where to find them. He wanted nothing to do with those books and everything to do with Mrs. Flower.

Knox: He said he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

Emory: Why does that make me want to throw up a little in my mouth?

Knox: Because you always thought she looked like a praying mantis.

Emory: Yup, that’s it.

Knox: Sorry I missed seeing you.

Emory: Yeah.





Two Years Post Breakup

Knox: Coach and Mrs. Flower eloped? What?

Emory: News of the century.

Knox: Were you invited?

Emory: No, my internship has been over for a bit.

Knox: Oh . . . what are you doing now?

Emory: Working at a local school library, getting my hours in.

Knox: Cool, just like you wanted.

Emory: Yeah. Seems like you’re doing good at spring training.

Knox: Fingers crossed I get called up.

Emory: You will.





Three Years Post Breakup

Emory: Congrats on starting. Are you nervous?

Knox: Nah, feels like I belong here.

Emory: You do.





Four Years Post Breakup

Emory: Mia Franco? Wow, is she as nice as she seems in person?

Knox: She’s pretty cool. Keeping tabs on me?

Emory: It’s hard to miss your picture on the gossip magazines with the most famous actress of our generation.

Knox: I hate those things.

Emory: Well, you’re bound to be on them if you’re dating Mia Franco.





Five Years Post Breakup

Knox: I ate an entire package of Oreos for dinner. Thought you would appreciate that.

Emory: Still addicted?

Knox: Yeah, and now I have Mia addicted too.

Emory: She needs to eat some. #TooSkinny

Knox: Don’t hate.





Six Years Post Breakup

Knox: I’m drunk.

Emory: And I’m waiting for Harvey to get home.

Knox: Who the fuck is Harvey?

Emory: My boyfriend. Didn’t you read my Christmas card?

Knox: Too painful.

Emory: Well, he’s my boyfriend. Hey, sorry to hear about you and Mia.

Knox: Sure you are.





Seven Years Post Breakup

Knox: Happy Birthday.

Emory: Thanks.





Chapter Thirty-One





EMORY





Eight Years Later

“I’m not reading that book again.” Cora flops on the desk chair next to me and tosses Mother Bruce, this week’s story-time book on the desk. “I love Bruce, I really do, that bear owns my heart. But I can’t stomach telling it again, especially when the kids don’t appreciate the effort I put into telling the story. The boys constantly try to pinch each other and the girls are always doing each other’s hair. This isn’t a free-for-all, it’s story time.”