Page 108 of Your Play to Call
“I’d try to figure out the leak.”
No. No. No.
There’s nothing to figure out. The only person I told was Willow. Right? Fuck. My brain is fuzzy. It’s like a haze covers parts of my memories.
Who else was in the room? No one. Couldn’t be. I was terrified to say those words out loud. I would’ve never done it if anyone was in there.
“Definitely. Thanks for calling, Coach. I haven’t made any decisions, and I won’t until I’m ready. I promise you’ll be the first one I talk to.”
“You have to do what’s best for you. I hope it’s being a starter for this team next year, and a few more after. Call me if you need anything, ok?”
The line goes dead. I stare at the phone in my hand. Tears cloud my vision. Mostly out of frustration but I’d be lying to myself if this doesn’t hurt. Willow didn’t keep my secret. My coach basically told me this could jeopardize my future with the team.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. You have nothing.My own brain bullies me. I try to breathe through it, but it hurts to breathe in all the way.
Football is a massive question mark, Willow is a hard no, and my shoulder fucking hurts. I pace. I walk the same short space from my kitchen to the living room.
This isn’t happening. There’s no fucking way. The wave of dread envelops me. Alarms are going off and I’m starting to hyperventilate. There was a reason I never took this risk, trusting another person, because most of them prove me they shouldn’t be trusted. Why the fuck did I think Willow would be different?
Did she really tell someone? One of my deepest darkest secrets. Did she share my most vulnerable moment?
Before I can plan my next move, the door opens.
Willow.
“Tripp, did you—”
“Who did you tell?” I turn to her too fast.
“No one,” she responds with no hesitation.
“I can’t believe this. You’re the only one I told.” I look at my phone on the end table. Texts are coming in. My mom is calling.
“Tripp. You have to believe me. I didn’t tell anyone. You know me.” She taps her hand on her chest, right over her heart.
I thought I did. There’s no other explanation for this though. My brain is trying to sift through the mud. Everything is murky.
“There’s no other way this got out. It was only me and you in that room.” An angry tear falls down my cheek. “I kept all your secrets and followed your rules. I did what I was supposed to, and you couldn’t do this one fucking thing for me?!” I know I’m yelling, and I don’t care.
“Please, take a breath. Let’s sit.” Willow gestures to the couch. When I don’t move, and continue pacing, she asks the burning question. “Tripp, are you going to retire?”
“I don’t know if it’s my choice any more. The Cosmos are on alert. They think one of their best players is turning into mush and leaving them behind.”
“If it’s not true, put out a statement. Things like this always blow over.”
She doesn’t understand.Why isn’t she listening to me?
“I can’t put out a statement! I have no idea what I’m going to do. Plus, my coach called. Basically told me this put the thought in the team’s mind that they may need another wide receiver next year.” I’ve neverbeen one to yell but I don’t feel like she gets it. I pace back and forth. Small steps.
“They wouldn’t do that…” she says.
“You don’t know anything if you think that. I’m here, in this apartment, because of a random move I never saw coming. Quit being so fucking naïve.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Willow. You fucked this up! I thought I was going to have time to think through this major life decision and now I have to make it while everyone analyzes every fucking thing I do, say, or breathe.”
“I didn't tell anyone. And don’t be mad at me that you have to make a call on something difficult. The decision was always there. Before me.”
