Page 59 of Personal Foul
Chapter Twenty-One
Rush
After practice, I opt to hang out at the gym for a little bit longer to shower and get cleaned up knowing Sydney and I have plans for dinner at her place tonight. We decided to order takeout, giving us both the night off from cooking, and instead spending time with each other.
Tomorrow morning, the team will be hitting the road to Dallas. Sydney will be staying back in Miami, which means I won’t see her for two days until we get back home on Saturday morning.
Jairo is waiting for me outside when I exit out the side door from the practice gym. Opening the door, I climb into the back of the SUV and shove my bag on the seat next to me.
Disappointment settles over me when I open my phone, hoping to see an unread text message from Sydney but nothing. She hasn’t even read my last message I sent her earlier.
Not bothering with texting her again, I click on her name and press the call button, holding the phone against my ear. It rings once before going straight to voice mail.
“What the hell?” I mutter to myself.
It’s weird for her to not respond back to my message from two hours ago, when I know she was off work and heading home. Then, for her to let her phone ring once and go to voice mail when she’s expecting me to come over is even more concerning.
Hitting the call button again, I hold the phone to my ear and wait on bated breath as the phone rings. This time it rings four times before she finally answers.
“Hello.” Her voice is muffled, sounding groggy.
“Sydney,” I blurt out. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“I’m fine.” She hesitates for a moment.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m… I don’t feel well.”
“Okay. We don’t have to order Chinese if you don’t want. I can have Jairo stop off and I can pick you up some soup instead, if you prefer.”
For a second, I think I hear her sniffle, and I wonder if she’s crying before she assures me it’s okay, not to worry about it.
“You should probably go home. I don’t want you to end up sick, especially when you have a game tomorrow.”
Something about her feels so off right now.
“I don’t care if I end up sick.”
The sound of rustling filters through the phone, and I picture her lying on her bed, curled up with a blanket over her, and her moving to get comfortable. I wish I could be there with her, lying with my arms around her.
“Please,” I say, peering up knowing Jairo is likely hearing me beg Sydney to let me come see her. I don’t give a shit about any of it right now. I just need to be near her.
“No.” Her response is pointed, causing my brows to furrow. “I’m not feeling up for it right now,” she sighs. “I need some rest. Okay?”
I hate everything about this, but I guess she’s right. If she isn’t feeling well, she needs to rest and kick whatever this is quick.
“All right, fine. At least let me stop by tomorrow morning on my way out the door to see you before I go. Deal?”
I can practically hear the wheels turning in her brain now, but after a quiet moment, she whispers back, “Okay.”
It feels like a small victory, and for whatever reason, I take it. I don’t question or push her anymore, even though I feel like there’s something more she isn’t saying.
“If you need anything… soup, 7-Up, or a back rub, you know who to call. I’ll be there before I even hang up the phone.”
For a second, I almost think she’s about to give in before she mutters out another quiet, “Okay.”
She quickly wraps up the call, saying she needs to use the restroom, but she’ll text me later. I tell her goodnight, and before the words are even out of my mouth, the line clicks, disconnecting.
