Page 123 of The Game Plan

Hopping over the case and picking my way through the mess slows me down.

Shit, I’m such an asshole. I had a total mantrum, and now I’ve scared the hell out of her. The expression in her eyes wasterrorized. That’s all on me.

I wrench open the door and race down the stairs. “Fi!” I don’t see her, but she can’t have gone far.

Outside, rain is coming down in hard sheets. I’m instantly drenched, my vision obscured as water runs into my eyes. I wipemy face, scan the gloomy courtyard. Empty.

Shouting her name, I run toward the garage. She isn’t there. Isn’t in the studio.

My heart pounds, fear and regret squeezing at my chest. I knew the moment I saw her anguished look that she hadn’t meant tohurt me—hurt us. And still I lost it. I said horrible things, made her afraid. I picture the room I wrecked in front of herand feel sick.

Bracing my hands on my wet knees, I try to breathe, to think of where she might be. It occurs to me that she might have goneout the front entrance. But the street is dark and empty, except for the lone, hunched vagrant in the distance, picking hisway through garbage bins, his shape a black blob beneath the hazy streetlight.

With a sigh, I sink down to sit on my doorstep, unwillingto go back inside. Rivers of dirty water rush along the gutter. Rain comes down so hard it bounces off the pavement. I sit with my knees up, holding my head in my hands as if it can stop the ache. I sit until I’m soaked to the skin. But I’m not going to move. Not until Fi returns.

Hell, she might not return. Have I lost her?

The idea that she might think I don’t want her anymore closes my throat.

“Hey there, fella.” The old homeless man stands in front of me. His tattered overcoat seems to be keeping him fairly dry,though water beads in his gray hair and runs down his ruddy face.

“Take this.” He hands me what used to be an umbrella, the spines broken and hanging higgledy-piggledy. It wouldn’t protectagainst a mist, much less this. But it’s his, and he’s offering.

I blink up at him, shocked and feeling like shit, but find my voice. “That’s okay, man. Can’t get much wetter.”

He lets out a raspy laugh, tucking the umbrella back into the basket-cart at his side. “Ain’t that the truth.” He nods towardthe night sky. “Bad weather will blow past. Always does.”

I want to laugh until I cry, but I nod and reach into my pocket for my wallet. He sees me and holds up a hand. “No need forthat. No need at all. I’m getting on home now.”

I’ve seen him around and know this is a lie. But pride is a powerful thing, and I put my wallet back. “Have a good evening,mister.”

He leaves me to silence and the sound of the rain pattering against the pavement.

I sit back, my head thumping against my front door, and close my eyes.

Pride. I thought I was so fucking humble, above it all. But my pride kept me from going after Fi when I first saw her. It’skept me from demanding the things I want in life until it was easy. And it had me lashing out when I should have listened.

Fucking pride.

“Ethan?”

My eyes spring open. Fi stands a few feet away, holding a grocery bag in her hands. Illuminated by the gas lantern hangingover our door, her little frame is dwarfed by her big yellow raincoat. I scramble to my feet, my sneakers squeaking on thepavers.

“Fi.” I take a step forward, my chest heaving. “Cherry, I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know.”

“All that stupid shit I said, I was just—”

She takes a step. “You don’t have to explain. Everyone deserves to howl at the moon at some point. And you’ve had a shittyday. A shitty month, really.”

We’ve both had a shitty time of it, yet she wasn’t the one who went into HulkSmash mode.

“I shouldn’t have trashed the room. I scared you.”

She frowns, and rainwater trickles down her cheeks like tears. “What scares me more is that you believe you need to hide youremotions.”

My throat works on a noisy swallow, and I blink away the raindrops that blind me.

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