Page 70 of The Transfer
“Yeah, your mom is great. Did she tell you that she came by my apartment last week?” Clearly, she didn’t because his eyes are wide with shock.
“No…she didn’t mention that.” He seems angry or upset by it.
“Oh.” I’m at a crossroads here. I could change the subject, but my heart won’t let me.
“Your mom brought me a letter from your dad.” I rush out the words, not sure if he heard them, but the look on his face tells me he did. If I thought he was shocked before, it’s nothing compared to what I see now.
“He wrote you a letter?” He sounds a little emotional right now, and I’m not sure telling him this is the best move, but I’m already making it.
“Yeah. I was surprised too. She told me he wrote you letters as well. I think that’s incredible. You’ll get to have him be a part of all your important moments, even if it’s not how you want it to be.”
He’s nodding, and I see a few stray tears falling. I want to walk over and wipe them away so badly, but I can’t do that and have him reject me again.
Then, without warning, he shakes his head, and the neutral facade he’s been wearing lately comes back over his face. The switch has flipped, and he’s closed off from negative emotion right now.
“You know, we never got to do our free throw competition a few months back. Maybe we can now?” He says it so calmly, like the past few weeks haven’t been eating him alive like they have me.
Rage and anger rise to the surface. Gone is the understanding Reagan, and in her place is the angry one dying to come out and play.
“Why?” I ask. It catches him off guard because my tone is anything but sweet.
“W-What do you mean?” He answers my question with a question.
“Why do you want me around now, when you have done nothing but let me think the opposite for weeks now?”
He flinches at that, and a tiny piece of me feels guilty. But the rest of me tells it to shut up as I wait to hear his answer.
Running his hands through his hair, he drops his basketball, and it rolls away. He thinks about it before he answers me.
“I don’t know.” That is his answer to me right now. My blood is boiling, and all those emotions I’ve been shoving into a box are exploding out. I’m trying to rein them in, but it’s almost impossible.
“That’s your answer? Incredible. I’m just going to go now.” I again start to leave, walking past him, but he grabs my wrist, halting me with a touch that sears to my very bone with electricity and heat.
Turning me to face him, he blows out a deep breath. “Reagan, I messed up. I thought that basketball was all I needed. Reaching for my goals and playing for my dad, that’s what I threw myself into. But no matter what I do, my game isn’t where it should be, and I’m falling apart.”
“What do you mean youthought?” I ask.
Shaking his head, he looks me straight in the eyes, those beautiful green ones pleading with me as he says something I never thought I’d hear. “I’ve realized I can’t do this alone anymore.”
“You should have thought about that before you decided for both of us to cut me out of your life.”
He looks like I slapped him, and honestly, the emotional whiplash right now is killing me, too.
“Reagan, I just wanted to do what was best.”
“For who?” I say it louder than necessary, but my days of holding back are gone.
“For you! I’m a mess right now. You don’t deserve to put up with it.” I know he means well, but this is just sending me right back to everything with Drew, and I’m over it.
“You don’t get to decide what I deserve, Riggs. Not you, not my brother, not anyone except me! I’m done letting you decide what it is that I can or can’t handle, even if it’s being your friend!”
“I messed up, okay! I regret every single word I said to you that day. If I could take it all back, I would!” I don’t know if he meant to speak that out loud, but he did, and I needed to hear it even though it is too late.
“You can’t go back, Riggs. You can only go forward.”
“I know. I’m tired of fighting this fight alone,” he says, a defeated look crossing his face.
“What does that mean?” I ask it quietly because my wrath dies when I see his hurt coming through.
