THIRTY-SEVEN
victoria
When I left for Seattle two weeks ago, I decided it would be easiest to go without telling anyone. No hard goodbyes. No second-guessing.That’s what Leo wanted, right?
So when I return—for a mere twenty-four hours to collect a few skating costumes and Leo’s smile tally—I make it my goal to sneak past Delilah’s apartment and hope Big Bertha doesn’t out me with his super bird hearing.
When I fish for the key in my pocket, I fumble the bag I’m holding and drop the key on the floor. As I bend down, my forehead smacks the doorknob with a dullthud,sending pain through my skull. “Ow,” I moan, stepping backward.
A soft click of a door sounds behind me. “You’re not going to stop and say hi?” Delilah’s greeting makes my stomach jump into my throat.
I drop my bag to the floor and press a hand to my throbbing forehead, wincing in pain. “You could warn a girl before you sneak up on her.”
Delilah lifts an eyebrow. “You think I’m the sneaky one? After you just left that poor boy behind without saying goodbye?”
“Wait.” I drop my hand and stare at her. “How’d you know?”
She lifts an eyebrow. “How do you think?”
“Leo was here?” Something squeezes in my chest. I told myself I wouldn’t get choked up over him. It’s better this way—not seeing him, not wanting to stay.
“That boy looked downright heartbroken, like someone had sucked the life right out of him. I gave him a brownie, and it didn’t even help! When chocolate can’t even solve your problems, you know you’re in deep trouble.”
I try to ignore the balled-up emotion in my throat.He was here, looking for me.
Delilah props a hand on her hip. “Even Big Bertha went on a hunger strike!”
That doesn’t sound like Bertha. “Are you sure he just hasn’t had too many cheese puffs?”
“Okay, fine. We were stress eating while you were gone,” she says guiltily. “But I think Leo deserves an explanation from you.”
“He asked me to leave,” I say.
“Then why won’t you talk to him?” She tilts her head, waiting for an answer.
I sigh. “It’s complicated, Delilah.”
“Complicated?” Delilah huffs. “That’s all you got?” She folds her arms across her chest. “That boy is completely lost without you—he’s throwing himself into every game, playing harder than ever, doing everything he can to get noticed and traded to another team closer to you. For the first time, he’s not getting put in the sin bin because of his temper. Do you think that’s just a fluke?”
I frown. “You know what the sin bin is?” I’d have bet money that before she started watching the Crushers, she thought itwas the clearance bin of steamy romance novels at the used bookstore.
“Course I do,” she says.
“He can’t leave the Crushers. He’s playing better than ever for them,” I admit, giving away the fact that I've been keeping up with his games since I left.
“He’s even making an effort with Tina. I encouraged them to talk, and for three hours, they unpacked the last thirty years of her life. It didn’t fix everything, but it was a start.” Delilah pauses and her gaze shifts over my shoulder, like she’s looking through my apartment door. “You can’t truly understand someone until you take the time to listen, and sometimes, listening to your own heart is the hardest part.”
I turn away from Delilah and force my key into the lock. “Well, we’re not going to see each other today, so if that’s what you’re suggesting, the answer is no.” I try to turn the key, but the lock sticks, just like it always has.
Why has thisstillnot been fixed? I submitted the repair request months ago. I jiggle it a little but it still won’t budge.
“No, huh?” Delilah says. “You might want to reconsider.”
“I don’t have time,” I say over my shoulder, before leaning my weight into the door.
“Victoria . . .” she warns.
I dig my shoulder into the door. “I’ve already made up my mind.”
