Page 114 of Game On
Nearly two weeks later, we’re at my place ready to head out for dinner. Ella is sitting cross-legged on my bed with her laptop open. There’s an anthro quiz on Monday, and then we’ll be heading straight to Florida with the rest of the team. That means there’s only one week left until the first day of competitions.
We’ve gone full-out with the whole squad more than forty times, and our partner routine has been rock solid for months now. But even with all the practice, the hard work, there’s still a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. The gnawing worry about what comes after.
I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water will clear my head. When I return, I find Ella sitting on my bed, holding a piece of paper in her hands. It doesn’t take me long to realize she’s clutching that goddamn letter.
Her eyes are blown wide as she looks up at me. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. I was looking for some paper to copy down this chart, and this was just … there. Hidden away in your drawer.”
I freeze in the doorway. My heart races, and a sense of déjà vu crashes over me, dragging me back to that morning after our first night together. The same room, the same bed, but an entirely different kind of tension. “Ella, I—”
“This is dated the fifteenth,” she cuts in, her voice rising slightly. “You’ve had this for two weeks now.”
I swallow hard, feeling the walls close in. “It’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” She stands abruptly, the letter fluttering to the floor as she does. Her eyes bore into me, confusion swirling in their depths. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been accepted? Because you thought I’d, what … try and convince you to come?”
I step closer to her, my hands raised in a futile gesture of calm. “It’s not that simple. I didn’t want to worry you. Oxford … it’s not exactly practical.”
“Not practical? It’s one of the best universities in the world! And—and I’ll be there. I thought you wanted this.”
“I do,” I say, frustration seeping in. “Believe me, I do. But it’s not just about getting in. The money for tuition only covers a fraction of the costs. Living expenses, travel, everything else—it’s overwhelming. The other schools offered more comprehensive scholarships, and I have to consider that.”
She shakes her head. “But why keep it from me? We’re a team. You could have told me that straight away.”
“I didn’t want to put more pressure on you, Ella. We’re about to compete at fucking Daytona. That’s been your dream from the beginning. Our minds should be focused, not muddled with added stress.”
She folds her arms across her chest, her posture rigid. “Thank you for deciding what I can and cannot handle.”
The sting of her words hits me hard. I want to reach out,to pull her into my arms and make all of this go away, but the look in her eyes stops me cold.
“I’m sor—”
“Please,” she interrupts, her voice trembling now. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. You should have told me when you got it. We could’ve talked it through. But you didn’t, and I understand why. You’ve decided you aren’t accepting your admittance, and you’ve already got one foot out the door.”
“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” I tell her. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I’m still trying to figure it all out. I was going to talk with you about it as soon as the competition was over.”
“Once you’d already made up your mind.”
“No,” I say, but her gaze is still cold, chilling me to the bone. I can see the hurt in her eyes, and it twists something deep inside me. “I wanted your input, El. Truly. But I didn’t want it to distract us. Daytona is everything we’ve worked for.”
“Right,” she mutters, dejected. “And this relationship, once again, is temporary.”
Her words carve into me, leaving a hollow ache. “That’s not fair. I think we both know by now how much you mean to me.”
She stands, smoothing out the creases in her dress. “Sure, right. Well, onwards then.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Let’s tuck your letter away in the drawer and discuss it in a few weeks. Just as you wanted.”
“Ella, stop, please. Don’t shut me out.”
She looks at me. “I’m not shuttingyouout. You chose to keep me in the dark.”
I swallow hard. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just … didn’t know how to handle it. I fucked up.”
“Yeah,” she says, “you did.” She turns, grabbing her purse before she heads for the door. “I’m getting an Uber home. Enjoy your dinner.”
I stand there, alone, the room feeling emptier with every step she takes away from me. There’s no use going after her now. She clearly wants to be alone, needs some time to process. So, when the front door clicks shut, I sink into the silence and let it swallow me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Ella
