Page 66 of Halftime

I was old enough now to be on my own and make my own decisions, and it looked like that meant being nothing but acquaintances with them from now on. That hurt. Not like we’d been close before, but I’d hoped things would one day be different.

Still, I felt lighter. I didn’t have to bear the weight of their expectations anymore. I could do what I wanted, or needed, without having to feel guilty. We’d have to discuss what was going to happen this summer, but I could make that decision for me. I didn’t have to talk them into it. I’d tell them what I was doing, and they could decide how to respond.

I’d probably need to get a job. I’d speak to Coach to see if he knew of anything. It was a little scary, but I mostly felt good. About classes, and hockey, and taking charge of my life. There was also the Faith issue. I still missed her. Not just the few weeks we’d been together here at school. We’d been together for almost two years before that stupid non-cheating thing last year. We worked together so well. I didn’t want to be without her.

I’d rethought my decision over and over. I could go back to her, tell her about Marcher and Raylene, explain that nothing had happened. It was tempting. Except I knew it would happen again. And I couldn’t control the pictures that were posted or the stories that would be written. If I was lucky enough to get drafted and play professionally, it was going to be worse.

The thought of never knowing if Faith would be happy to see me or be like she had that day, closed off, waiting for the blow… I couldn’t always be wondering if there’d be something that would destroy her faith in me, giving her a reason to leave. Never knowing or being in control of that made my stomach roil. I deserved someone who would love me. Stay with me. Someone who would at least give me the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t think that person could ever be Faith, as much as I’d love it to be.

I hadn’t kissed anyone on New Years. I’d planned to. But about five minutes before the countdown, I chickened out. I’d gone to find a bathroom and hid out there until the big celebration was over.

Now, a couple of weeks into the new semester, I was tired. Tired of looking for Faith in order to avoid her. Tired of arguing this over and over in my head. It was enough. Hanging on to someone who’d never believe in me wasn’t something I needed in my life. I’d already gotten enough of that from my parents.

Last year, I’d dated, but I’d never been all in. I realized that now, and it hadn’t been fair to those girls. Like Holly. I’d picked girls who weren’t like Faith on purpose, which meant that I hadn’t been over her. I’d been ready to be a good boyfriend, but I’d never risked getting too involved. It was time to get over that.

Maybe I should try being more like Cooper and like a lot of my teammates. Pick up girls, have a fun hookup, leave them behind. Maybe. I wasn’t sure that was something I could do. But what I could do was move on. I had a lot of life left, I hoped. I needed to find someone who could know and love the real me, so I needed to show who I was.

I was going to go to the next party we had and be open to possibilities. Whether it was some hot sex, a blow job, or just some ego-stroking flirtation would depend on who was there and how I felt, but I was going to try, damn it. I should feel a little happier about it than I did right now, but I would. Fake it ’til you make it, right?

I headed down to the kitchen and saw Cooper was dressed up. Well, he was wearing jeans and not sweats.

“Are you going out?”

He cocked his head. “Yeah, party at the basketball players’ house tonight.”

“Can I come with?”

He stared at me, a frown creasing his face. “You sure about that?”

I stared back at him. “Yeah, I am.”

He watched me for another minute and then shrugged. “Sure. Are we avoiding anyone tonight?”

I shook my head. “No, we’re just looking for fun.”

Cooper smirked. “Welcome to the dark side, padawan.”

* * *

Faith

The revelation that I was behaving like my mom had hit me hard. It was absolutely the last thing I wanted to be, but once I looked at my own behavior, really looked at it, it was impossible to miss.

I wanted to find Seb immediately. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, and that I got it now. It was my fault, but I’d change. I could change, couldn’t I? Or was this too ingrained by now? That thought terrified me. I couldn’t live like that. Unless I planned to live alone. And I didn’t want to do that.

What I wanted was what I’d had with Seb. Someone who believed in me, helped me when I needed, held me when all that I wanted was comfort. Someone who made me feel sexy and attractive, and someone who could almost blind me with excellent orgasms. That’s what I’d had with Seb, and that’s what I wanted back.

I had to be sure I could commit to changing before I talked to him. I’d been raised all my life in an atmosphere of suspicion. I had to learn how to have faith be more than just my name.

This wasn’t like other goals I’d set for myself. I couldn’t increase the number of reps or laps or stretches I did to improve my fitness, take more shots, watch more game tape. It wasn’t even like homework. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I had to figure it out. I had to learn to trust Seb.

I gave myself two weeks. I was going to have two weeks of not checking on Seb, not looking for any evidence of what he was doing. I needed to cut myself off from those behavior patterns. I needed to spend some time on my own, weeding out all the things I’d taken on without thinking.

I did a lot of running, thinking about what it would be like to really trust someone. I got really tired and wore out a pair of shoes. I put an elastic on my wrist, like people quitting smoking did. And whenever I recognized thought patterns about what Seb could be doing, or anything negative related to that, I’d snap the elastic. I broke a couple of them the first week. But it started to work. I found my thoughts diverting even before I snapped my wrist.

While I was going through this self-examination time, I decided to talk to my coach. I’d had another weekend of not suiting up. We’d lost a couple of games I honestly thought I could have made a difference in. Coach wanted team players. And I was one. I had to figure out how to prove it to her. I’d tried the easier way for me by playing well, but that wasn’t enough.

I had to talk to Coach, to try to explain, and then I’d know I’d done my best. I went to her office after practice and knocked on the doorframe.

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