Page 134 of Sweat

“We weren’t fighting.”

“You know he hates fighting. He’s sensitive. Like you always were. Any time Mom and I got into it, you’d burst into tears. Didn’t matter what we were talking about. Just the tones of our voices were enough.”

“She just says the dumbest shit sometimes. Pisses me off.”

Raking her slim fingers through my hair, Erica says, “I know. Let it roll off your back.”

“Trying.”

“She’s going to need you when I’m gone. To love and to judge. Don’t give her all of you. Give her some, but take the rest with you to San Jose.”

Ah, the magic words. I can’t help but smile, even as my eyes fill with tears.

“You’re going with him, right?”

I nod, smile widening. “But I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay until it’s time, and I’ll take Mav to Oakland like I promised. Then, I’ll go to San Jose.”

Chapped lips stretching to show a tired grin, Erica whispers, “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“Being a good person. That guy is lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one. Trust me.”

My phone buzzes under my ass, and my first thought is that Rowan’s texting, but then it keeps on buzzing. I pry it from underneath me and see a number I don’t recognize.

Swiping to the green call icon, I answer with a tentative, “Hello?”

An unfamiliar voice fills my ear, asking if this is Tommy Mathison. “That’s me.”

The voice introduces themselves, and the very next phrase out of their mouth is one that stops my heart cold and stuns me into sitting upright. “Are you serious?” I ask them.

They are. No joke. They bid me goodbye, and when the line goes cold, I stare at my screen and wonder if I just dreamt that.

“Who was it?” Erica asks, picking herself up on an elbow.

Looking back at her over my shoulder, I can’t believe what I’m about to tell her. “I got drafted.”

“What?” She hauls herself up and grips my shoulder to keep her sitting straight. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Last round pick, but I got picked,” I mutter, my head in a flurry. I swallow a lump that forms in my throat and it sits like a log in my gut, making me feel sick.

“You don’t look happy,” she says. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking with an anxious adrenaline. The most dreadful sort of excitement I’ve ever felt.

“Then what’s wrong? Which team is it?”

I gulp, scratching at the back of my neck. “Toronto FC.”

Toronto…also known asreally fucking far away from San Jose.

32

Rowan

When I get the ESPN notification with Tommy’s name right beside the words Toronto Football Club, I wish I could say my first feeling is pride. I wish I were that selfless. I wish I were that good of a person. That good of a boyfriend.

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