Page 77 of The Fadeaway
“Oh my God. She really died?”I’m crying, and Joel is laughing.
“Well, yeah. Her death is what makes Bond, Bond.”
I cry harder, cover my face, but can’t drown out his laughter.
“I thought you’d like it. Tragic love story and all.”
“I did.” Another sob breaks free.
He shuts the laptop and pulls me to him. I’m not usually such a sap. I mean, okay I totally am, but I wasn’t planning on crying in front of him of all people. I was not prepared for the depth of the movie. Or the man next to me.
“What makes Joel, Joel?”
After the shower, I put on one of his t-shirts forgoing my bra and he’s got one hand underneath cradling my left boob. He did it the first time during the movie and it resulted in more making out that also required re-starting the movie, but now I’m not even sure he’s aware he’s doing it. His palm just rests there like my left breast is his personal stress ball.
He doesn’t respond so I ask again. “Vesper dying makes Bond, Bond. What made you, you?”
I feel his body tense and I lean up on one elbow so I can see him.
“Nothing nearly as tragic as that. My life has been easy.” His words would be convincing if it weren’t for the gruff tone. He shrugs and continues. “My parents were strict but loving and they set a good example for working hard to achieve my dreams.”
“Playing in the NBA?” I ask, remembering Blair’s comment about him playing professionally.
He nods and laces our fingers together. His big palm makes mine look so dainty by comparison. “Yeah, since I was a kid. Don’t really know how or when it started, but I’ve always wanted to be the next Kobe Bryant and play for the Lakers.”
“Blair said you might drop out to go early.”
I hold my breath as he answers.
“I met with an agent earlier today. There are pros and cons either way. My parents really want me to get my degree, but I don’t need it to be a ball player.”
“What about after?”
“The plan is to use my ball career to get into sports broadcasting. A good portion of the broadcasters these days are old pros.” He pulls back and places a hand under his chin. “I mean with this handsome mug, I figure I belong on TV one way or another.”
“That’s why you’re majoring in communications,” I say.
“What about you? What do you want to do after school?”
“I don’t know anymore. When I was younger, I imagined myself moving to LA and trying to get a job as a screenwriter, but with Christian and our families being here, I don’t really see that happening. It’s hard enough being an hour away.”
“LA is only six hours by car.”
“That’s a long way to shuttle a kid back and forth every week.”
The awareness of how having a kid makes my life different finally dawns on his face. I can’t just pick up and leave. Christian has a father who, even though he may not be the most reliable, deserves to be able to see his son. Not to mention has a legal right.
“When do you have to decide about next year?”
He blows out a breath. “End of April, officially, but I need to decide soon so I can get my parents used to the idea if I do skip my senior year.”
He’s quiet and lost in thought for a moment before he looks to me and smiles. I feel the mood go with that smile, but I stay silent hoping he’ll share more about his hopes and dreams. What he wants for his life. Literally anything. He gives so freely and yet holds back so strongly, too. I wait, holding my breath for more words that I’m not even sure matter, but I want all the same.
* * *
Joel
“What’s your schedule like today?”
