Page 17 of Home Town Advantage
I look back up at him, snapping out of my daydream. Why arehiseyes pained? Does he regret what he did?
I exhale a long breath and reluctantly nod, mostly curious as to what he could possibly have to say to me at this point.
As if on cue, the faster song ends, and a slow one begins playing.
Dear life, when I asked if this day could get any worse, it was a rhetorical question not a challenge.
He holds out his arms in invitation. I reluctantly move toward them, though I maintain a safe distance. Not safe enough to avoid his scent. He smells the same as he always has. I hate that it’s comforting and feels like home. That I want to blanket myself in it so all the bad things in the world go away.
His thumb rubs across a tear I didn’t realize had dropped from my eye, and he whispers, “Please don’t cry, Gully Sulley. I hate it.”
I lift my chin and steel my voice. “Don’t call me that. Nicknames are for friends. We’renotfriends.”
He pinches his lips together before nodding and tentatively placing his hands on my hips. I lightly place my fingertips on his shoulders, wanting to touch the least amount of him as possible.
His green eyes meet mine. “I know you hate me, and I understand why. Despite that, I want to try to be friends.” He cracks a small, lopsided smile. “We used to be friends, Sulley. Can we get back there? Please. I think we’re going to be in each other’s lives.It would be easier for all our friends if we could do so peacefully.”
Pain slices through my body as I can barely manage to whisper, “I don’t know that I can ever get there. We can’t undo what you’ve done to my family.”
His hopeful face falls. “Just know I care about you. I always have and I always will.”
Care about me? What a joke. My jaw tightens at his hollow words. Instead of being sad, I start to get mad. “Fuck you, Vance. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
“Itistrue. It’s all about your precious image. You don’t have any regard for the people in your life. You do whatever you want with no consideration for the carnage you leave behind.” I push him away. Feeling the tears building, I start to walk away but turn my head back to him and grit out, “When was the last time you saw your daughter?”
I wakein the morning feeling like my head might explode. I’m not hungover. I cried for hours after my interaction with Vance. My mother told me not to let him get to me, and the first time I saw him, I ended up a mess.
Kennedy and Palmer immediately took me home and let me cry in their arms. They must think I’m crazy.
I peel my eyes open. And I mean peel because I didn’t remove my makeup and cried until there were no fluids left in my body. My eyelids feel like they were glued together.
I see Kennedy on one side of me and Palmer on the other, all squeezed together in my bed. I only just met these women, and yet they took such good care of me. I’m suddenly feeling very fortunate for my new friends.
Female friendships have long been a struggle for me. I grew up a tomboy, refusing to do anything considered “girlie.” Thatdidn’t lend itself to many girlfriends. Then, when I was about twelve, I started getting a ton of attention for my basketball play. The girls at school hated me for that. I was on a bit of an island throughout high school. In college, my teammates didn’t like the fact that all the focus and media attention were on me. Despite my always shifting our success to the team, the media only wanted to interview me. I was the one getting NIL deals left and right. I was the one who was credited with our team’s success. I never asked for the attention, but it was there, and my teammates resented it.
Put simply, it’s been lonely. Girl hate is something I’ve gotten used to. It’s become what I expect, but that’s not what I got last night. Just the opposite.
I feel Kennedy place her hand on my arm. I turn my head and see nothing but concern written on her face. She rubs my arm as she whispers, “Are you okay?
In a hoarse voice, I manage to croak out, “I’m sorry about last night. I’m so embarrassed.”
I feel Palmer’s hand on my other arm. “Don’t be. We all have our moments.”
Kennedy asks, “Do you want to tell us what has gone on between you and Vance McCaffrey to trigger you like that?” Her voice is laced with compassion. “I want to be supportive, but it’s hard when we don’t know the facts.”
I let out a long breath. I owe them this for taking care of me last night. I’ve never talked about it with anyone but my family. It might feel good to finally let it all out. I hope I can trust these women. My gut tells me I can.
I nod. “Can we do this over coffee? I need some caffeine before we dive into my past.”
Twenty minutes later, I’ve scrubbed my face clean and we’re sitting around our kitchen table with mugs of coffee. I’ve popped a handful of Advil and am ready to confide in them.
I look at both of my new friends. Their eyes convey nothing but genuine concern.
I begin, “I’ve known Vance since I was born. He and my brother, Finn, were best friends. More than best friends. Brothers. They did everything together. Our parents are the best of friends too. I honestly have very few childhood memories that don’t include the McCaffrey family. Vance and Finn were eight years older than me. I worshiped them and followed them everywhere, but they always indulged me, letting me tag along. I idolized my brother and had a massive crush on Vance. As I’m sure you can imagine, Vance was the town hero. The golden boy. Untouchable. Loved by all.”
They both nod in understanding.
