Page 90 of The Way We Collide

“I told you, watching movies is my hobby.”

We settle into a comfortable silence as the actors all go to this fancy restaurant with live music. A pianist plays jazz, and a small man with an accent is shot dead.

“Wow, they shot him right there in the restaurant.” I’m lying in bed with the phone on my shoulder, under the covers. “People could’ve been killed, and Rick didn’t even help him.”

“He sticks his neck out for nobody.”

“Tough guy.”

“Until she walks in…”

I don’t say I know how he feels. The beautiful female lead appears, and then it gets really crazy. Drinking, shooting, gambling, sneaking out past curfew… It looks more and more like Raiders, and in the end, we watch the two lovers say goodbye.

“I can’t believe he did that. He made her get on the plane.”

“It’s one of the most iconic movie moments of all time.”

“It sucks.” I frown, not liking the tightness in my chest.

“I wonder if they ever tried to find each other when the war was over.”

“No.” My tone is annoyed. “He sent her off with that guy.”

“That guy was her husband.” I don’t know why she sounds amused. “He was a famous war hero. He was fighting the Nazis.”

“Whatever.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“It was fine.”

“Okay.” She says it in a funny voice, and I can practically feel her grinning at me. “Haddy and I’ll be watching you playtomorrow. We’ll be in front of the TV in our jerseys cheering for you.”

That melts my annoyance. “Send me a picture. I’ll wave to you from the field.”

“Dylan said Logan used to do a hand gesture for her from the field.”

“He did?” I’m frowning again, thinking I can’t let that guy show me up. “What did he do?”

“That little thumb and index finger twist that meansI love you.”

“Like the K-pop singers?” I sit back, thinking of how to top that. “I could hold up my ring finger. It doesn’t mean I love you, but it means I’m thinking about my wife.”

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and a little high.

“It’s just the first thing I thought of on the spot.” I feel bad, like maybe I disappointed her. “I can think about it some more and text you something different tomorrow.”

“No, I like it,” she answers quickly. “It’s good.”

I hang on the phone a moment, listening to her breathe, thinking about her and Haddy there in my bed. “I guess I should let you sleep.”

“Yeah, you, too.” She sounds content, and calm eases my chest. “Sweet dreams.”

We hang up, and I stare at the picture of them both in my messages.

Sweet dreams.

According to the sports announcers,after a few early losses, our winning streak has begun. I can’t have a phone on the field, but before I leave the locker room, I get a photo of my girls. Both are in blue jerseys, and the little pom poms on Haddy’s head are yellow this time.

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