Page 12 of Fighting Spirit

I shrug, happy to let her.

My phone buzzes on the table as the screen lights up with a message from my mom. I pick it up to check it, forcing myself to keep my hold light as I read.

Mom

Did you get your dad’s messages?

I shove it into my pocket. With everything happening tonight, I don’t have the brain space to humor my mom as she tries to play good cop.

“Can I ask something?” Ruth says quietly, interrupting my thoughts. Her fingers are twisted up in her lap and she looks nervous.

“Sure,” I reply, suspicion lacing my tone.

“The coaching job, is that because of the whole-”

“Yes,” I cut her off, not needing to hear the rest. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s heard about it. It was a big story, but a reminder of exactly why there’s a gap on the staff roster isn’t something I want to get into.

“Okay.” She nods to herself.

Chapter Five

RUTH

Out of all my options, I feel like this guy is probably my best. I’ve lost most of the anger I was holding onto, but I weirdly feel like I don’t need it so much anymore. As much as Rowan sucks at being comforting, I kind of feel okay. Don’t get me wrong, this is still up there with the top ten worst things that have ever happened to me, but he’s made me feel about fifteen percent better about the whole situation.

“What time is your roommate back?” I ask. I’m beyond ready to get home, Georgie must be freaking out by now. We always text if one of us is going to be back at the apartment late; any time I get out of the studio late or stay at the library, I always let her know. The last time she stayed at a guy’s place after a date, I called Marshall and got him to drive me around looking for her, figuring her corpse was probably somewhere in a ditch. The fact that it’s now three-fifteen and I haven’t called her means she’s probably out trying to hire a sniffer dog.

“I don’t know,” Rowan sighs, scratching one of his eyebrows with a put-upon expression. “His date must be running long, he’s not answering his phone.”

“Did he say when he’d pick you up?”

“Not in so many words.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Which words did he use?”

“He just said he’d pick me up on his way home and I should call him if I got my own ride.”

“So, he could be out until the morning,” I say flatly. Fuck. I’m trying not to get mad at Rowan, this isn’t his fault, but I really can’t be stuck here any longer. I’m hungry, tired, and in the morning I’ll need to take my medication. A part of me knows I shouldn’t have gone to the studio in the first place. I told myself that I would stay in and catch up on assignments, but my brain wouldn’t settle. I thought that a quick practice would help get my energy out.

“I’m sure he’ll check his phone soon.” Rowan doesn’t look sure at all, and the way that he checks his notifications every two minutes doesn’t help his case.

“And there’s nobody else you can call?”

He lets out a long breath. “Not really.”

There’s something in the way he says it, almost like I’ve hit a nerve. He looks away from me for a moment and I want to take it back, to think of anything to say that’ll break the awkward tension that’s permeating the room, when three sharp bangs echo from the front door.

What the fuck? We both jump in our seats as whoever’s on the other side continues knocking, almost shaking the door with the force of it. “Ruth?” a voice yells.

Who could that be? Who even knows I’m here? My mind races as I try to piece together why someone has almost broken the door down looking for me. Wait… Georgie! Georgie must have been looking for me! She’ll have figured out where I am and she’s come to-

“Ruth, it’s Marshall!”

Marshall? What the fuck is Marshall doing here?

“Friend of yours?” Rowan asks, his voice low.

“I-uh…” I don’t know how to explain our relationship. Ex seems too strong, friend feels weird. But there’s not really a word for a former-situationship-who-acts-like-nothing-ever-happened-even-though-he-kind-of-broke-your-heart.

---