Page 26 of Big Rucking Disaster

It still took me an hour to de-Carly my apartment, small as it was. In the end, I had the place the cleanest it’d been since I moved in and a little box of knickknacks and other weird things she’d somehow infiltrated my home with, to go to the charity shop. Six months was a long time.

I opened my junk drawer and pulled out the photo envelope from the bottom.

Carly had never dug that far down, thank God. I didn’t think I could’ve explained it to her in a way she understood.

In a way I understood.

I sent a text.

Twenty minutes later, I sat in a booth at Jumpin’ Jacks across from Yardley. “Thanks for coming.”

He rubbed his face. “I’ll admit it’s pretty late, but that text had me getting dressed and heading here.”

“You were undressed? It’s Friday night.”

“Well, I had a long day. Remember, I’m up pretty damn early. We have archery practice Friday before school.”

“Archery?” I squinted. “Really?”

“I have a young woman in a wheelchair. She’s got real potential, so I started a club. Most of the other kids are there to keep her company while she kicks ass. I’ve arranged for her to work with a professional club, and I’m trying to find her a sponsor. I’d love to see her at the Paralympics one day—she’s got the talent.”

“Okay…wow.”

“Yeah, who’d have thought from the poorest school in the region?”

“Kenji might make it to our squad. Surely there’ve been other kids.”

“There have. Which is why I stay and work my ass off. Sometimes sports is a way out of poverty for these kids. A way to get post-secondary education.”

“Scholarships?”

“Yep. I encourage dreams whenever I can, and if the kid’s got grit, but no potential, I use their interest as a cudgel to get them to study harder.”

“Cudgel, eh?”

“Whatever works.” He eyed me. “But you didn’t text me to hear about archery students.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I eyed my whisky. “I broke up with Carly.”

“I want to say I’m sorry. Or that I didn’t see it coming. After spending an entire match with her, though…” He blew out a breath. “Although she spent a good chunk of it ignoring me, which was fine. I just…”

“She’s…”

“Yeah…”

“And I’m not…”

He cocked his head. “No, you’re not. I might’ve thought you were before, but you’ve proven you’re not…like her.”

“While I waited for you, I went through and deleted a ton of my Insta posts. I don’t want to be seen asthat guy.”

“I’m proud of you. You’re so much more than you portray yourself as. I think you could do some real good in the world—when you’re not busy winning matches and cycling around as a courier downtown.”

“Near miss yesterday.”

“Ouch.”

“Pays the bills.” I held his gaze. “I want to tell you about something. I don’t talk to anyone about this, but I want to talk to you.”

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