Page 31 of Offsides

Dani

Eli’s arms around me feel good. Solid. Comforting. Some part of me hates the fact that I'm taking comfort in his arms. This boy. This boy has been such a source of frustration lately.

This is the kind of comfort I should've received on karaoke night. This is how I wanted him to react to me when I was sad about the fact that my on-again off-again relationship was over once and for all. I wanted a hug from my best friend. Instead I got a kiss. A good kiss, if I'm being honest with myself. And yes, I did kiss him back after I got over the initial shock. And I guess I would've been okay with that type of comforting too. Maybe. I've been so lonely for such a long time. And I had expected Luke to fulfill that need for human contact.

My friends are great. But we all know that nothing is really a substitute for that kind of intimate touch. And while hookups can fill that void to some degree, it's not the same as being with someone who knows you, who cares about you, who loves you.

But did Luke ever really love me?

I thought so.

Maybe I was just deluding myself. I mean, he said he loved me. But if you love someone, why would you break up with them over and over and over again? I mean yeah, long distance relationships are no picnic. But I was willing to do it. He was the one who always insisted that it was too hard. And I knew what that meant. I knew that meant he was horny and wanted to hook up with somebody but didn't want to cheat on me.

And in a way—a weird, stupid twisted way—I thought that meant he respected me. That he cared about me enough to not want to cheat on me.

But why would you want to cheat on someone you love anyway? I didn't want to cheat on him, no matter how lonely or horny I was.

At least Eli isn't trying to put the moves on me anymore. But can we really go back to how things were? Can I just forget that kiss ever happened? Do I even want to?

What might've happened if Jackson and Autumn hadn't walked in when they did?

I guess that doesn't really bear thinking about. Besides, Eli is the one who said we should pretend the kiss never happened. And he's trying to make up for being a dick. That's why we're here after all. And this hug actually does go a ways toward accomplishing that.

When I lift my head, he gives me a soft smile. “You alright?”

I return his smile with one of my own and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just haven’t thought about any of that stuff in quite a while.”

He smooths a hand over my ponytail. “Sorry for bringing it up. Usually you sound pretty neutral when you talk about competitions. I thought maybe it was because you missed it and were trying not to let it show.”

With a snort of amusement, I shake my head. “No. Not at all. In fact, every time I go home, Dad tries to convince me to register for some competition or other that he's found. And every time I say no. And every time he spends my entire visit trying to convince me to register. He offers to pay the fees, he offers to pay for a coach, he even offered to pay me once. On top of all of the other fees, he said that he would pay me a dollar for every pound I lifted in competition."

Eli blinks, his face blank with shock. “Wait, like, total? For every lift? Is he counting each attempt as its own lift? Or just total weight per lift?”

Laughing at his barrage of questions, I nod. "I know, right? I'm honestly not sure exactly what he meant. He started to explain the logic, but I'm pretty sure it was a dollar for every time I successfully lifted every pound. So each attempt would count, as long as it was successful."

Eli blinks some more. "Holy shit,” he says softly. "And you turned that down?”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t have been worth it.” I pat his chest, then step back and replace the bottle in my hand on the shelf. I have absolutely no idea what kind of hair product it was. Something purporting to be for curly hair, but Autumn gave me a list of ingredients to avoid, at least to start with, and I think I saw one or two on the back of that one.

“Seriously?” Eli presses, following me as I stroll farther down the aisle.

There’s a collection of bottles that look like the ones Autumn uses. That’ll probably be a good choice for me too.

“Seriously,” I confirm, checking the list of products Autumn said I should get for my hair. “My dad would’ve been checking on me a million times a day, checking with my coach, trying to micromanage everything from hundreds of miles away. He’s bad enough just trying to convince me to compete. He’s a thousand times worse when he succeeds. A few hundred bucks isn’t worth it to me.”

“A few hundred bucks,” he mutters behind me. “I’ve seen you lift, dude. It’d be well over a thousand by the end of the competition.”

“Still not worth it,” I singsong back, putting a few things in the basket I grabbed when we came in.

I turn and head back toward the maze of makeup. It’s so overwhelming, and Autumn gave me far less guidance on this, only making a couple of color suggestions for eyeshadow and eyeliner, nothing about brands. And no warning about how much of a labyrinth the store would be.

But she’s also right that I want to experiment more with makeup. And if I’m going to learn to do my own, I need something to work with.

Eli chuckles when I take a deep breath, and I give him a sharp look. “What?”

Shaking his head, he laughs more. “You act like you’re about to go into battle.”

“Well?” I gesture at the vast array of makeup. “I feel like I have to hack my way through dense forest in search of hidden treasure. I don’t know what I’m looking for, exactly. Just a few vague suggestions of things I might want according to my roommate whose brilliant idea this whole trip was.”

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