He let out a relieved sigh, and pulled his hand back.
“I'll help you with anything you need,” he went on, his voice still barely above a whisper. “You can call me anytime for anything. You know that, right?”
I nodded.
“Why the fuck else do you think I cried like a baby in front of you?” I asked, trying to make light of it all.
He smiled warmly and for a moment, swayed toward me, like he was going to kiss me again.
My body stilled, waiting, but he didn't do it.
“Bye,” he said, and left.
I stood there, staring at the back of the closed door, my head spinning.
Upstairs, Melissa was already in bed.
When I climbed in next to her, she pretended that she was already sleeping.
I couldn't bring myself to say a word.
TWO
Ryan
“He's got promise, right?”
“Huh?”
I glanced over at Jeremy's dad, Carl, only registering what he'd said after seeing that he was waiting for an answer.
“Uh. Yeah,” I said, looking out at his son on the field. “He's fast. Has good instincts too.”
He nodded, looking pleased as he watched the practice.
Out of all the kids I coached, Jeremywasgood. It was hard to say at fourteen if that was going to lead to a career, but for guys like his dad, who had played in high school, they wanted it just as much as the kids did. Probably more.
“He'll go far,” he agreed, smiling proudly.
I nodded, playing along.
It was a skill I'd developed over years of coaching high school kids. Keeping parents happy was a part of the game at this point and normally, I didn't mind. It gave me an excuse to socializewith someone other than the school teachers or my small group of friends.
Thinking of them unfortunately brought my thoughts back around to Kamran. To be fair, it didn’t take much to make me think about him.
A lead stone had settled in the pit of my stomach since I'd gone home Sunday night and it hadn't dislodged itself yet.
Football was a reminder. Guys with green eyes—like Jeremy's dad—were reminders.
Fuckingbreathingwas a reminder.
My heart started racing anytime I thought about what had happened—which was constantly. I was on the verge of developing an anxiety disorder over this.
A panic attack was probably going to take me out the next time someone asked me how my weekend had been.
“Did you watch the game?” Carl asked.
I immediately choked on air.
