Page 135 of Sweat

Toronto…

I wish I could say I don’t cry as much as I do, but once the first tear falls, the rest just won’t quit until I’m so drained of energy I pass out fully clothed on my unmade bed.

What wakes me is Xia knocking on my door to tell me she and the girls baked cookies, if I’m interested. I hate the look on her face when she sees me, like she just found me behind a dumpster digging for scraps.

“Think I’ll pass tonight, but thanks,” I tell her.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

I shake my head.

“Honey, just because he’s drafted doesn’t mean he has to commit.”

“Yes it does,” I sigh, raking my hands across my scalp and taking a small bit of comfort in that my hair is too short to muss. “This is his shot, and he earned it. No way I’m letting him turn his back on this opportunity just because of me.”

“You say that like you’re not just as big of an opportunity.”

“I’m not an opportunity. I’m just…the first guy he fell for. You know what they say. First loves never work out.”

“Oh?” Her arms fold and her brows go crooked. “Is that what they say?”

“I’m not hungry, Xia, but thank you.”

She stays staring at my eyes, but I’ve long since averted mine. Eventually, she resigns, dropping her arms and leaving me to wallow.

If I were a good boyfriend, I would have called Tommy the second I found out, congratulated him, and told him how proud I am of him. Instead, I wait for him to call me, because I need the extra time to rehearse the aforementioned reaction.

The call comes close to nine o’clock, and I’m almost too scared to answer.

“Yo,” I answer, immediately wincing at how stupid that sounds.

“Yo,”Tommy parrots on the breath of a chuckle.“You’re not busy right now, are you?”

Not unless lying motionless in bed for hours counts as busy. “Nope. Wassup?”

“Were you, uh, keeping up with the rest of the draft at all today?”

Be cool. Be cool.

“Not after you left. You know Xia and her family time. No phones allowed.”

“Well…as fucking crazy as it sounds, I got drafted.”

Be cool.

“What?” I feign shock. “Are you serious?”

“Nuts, right?”

“It’s amazing. Shit. That’s amazing, Tommy. W-who drafted you?”

The line is quiet for a few torturous moments.“It was, uh, Toronto.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose to fight back the emotion, I say, “Toronto is a good club, and they see what I see in you, which makes them a smart club.”

Amid Tommy’s silence, I can barely make out the sound of his throat swallowing.“So, you think I should commit?”

“Absolutely,” I answer quickly. “This is your shot, and you deserve it. You won that match, Tommy. You won us the tournament. That was you.”

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