Page 54 of Sweet Little Lies
Chapter 20
Mica
The days have turned into weeks, which have now turned into months. And things between Lance and I keep getting deeper and better.
Is he my boyfriend? Mynovio?
My answer to that question would be yes, although we haven’t labeled anything specifically.
Are we in a relationship? Again, based on what I’ve seen, and based on what Cade and Ainsley have said – which is they’ve never seen Lance this head over heels over anyone before – than yes, I guess you could say that’s true. We are definitely in an exclusive relationship.
Has he proclaimed his love for me like I have for him?
No.
Does that hurt me a little bit every time I express my love and he can’t say it in return?
Yes. Like a thousand chards of glass cutting into my heart.
But I understand it. I get why he has trouble expressing those feelings based on what I now know of his father and mother and childhood.
And that only makes me want to shower him with all the love and more, because he deserves it. I want so badly for him to open up to me. To share whatever it is that he’s hiding within himself.
What little I know of his mother’s death, his guilt over it and what I witnessed between he and his father, I know there’s so much more to the story of Lance Britton than I’m currently privy to.
And even when I’ve casually brought it up when I’ve been alone with Cade and Ainsley, either they are doing a good job of protecting Lance’s story or they honestly don’t know any more than I do.
Whatever the case, things have been great between us. We see each other as much as possible and we spend the night together at least three to four times a week. I know that will all change as soon as the season begins, which is already next week.
His new roommates moved into his apartment back in August and when I’m not with Lance, he’s with Javin and Trent, who are both his teammates this year. One is a freshman and the other a junior. I’ve met them a few times, but didn’t spend much time with them. They seem like nice and decent guys but are both slobs. Not like Lance is much better.
Regardless of his new roommate situation, I know he misses Cade and Carver and feels the acute loss of what they had together. Before the NBA season kicked off, Carver and his girlfriend, Logan, came down to Phoenix for a visit. I knew Carver to some extent because I attended some of the same parties he was at last spring when I was with Ainsley, but it was great to get to know them both.
In fact, one night during their visit, we were all hanging out by the firepit behind Cade and Ainsley’s house. It was the two of them, me and Lance, Carver and Logan and Van and Kylah. The guys were sharing stories of their exploits and scuff ups while in college, making us laugh at all the stupid juvenile delinquent boy things they did together.
“Do you remember that time during our sophomore year when Carver nearly broke his arm when he tried jumping out of a two-story dorm window?” Cade pointedly asked the crew.
Logan peered at Carver under her lashes, giving him a look that most all of us girls recognize as a “WTF” were you thinking look.
Carver chuckled loudly, unashamed by his behavior.
“That wasn’t as bad as running naked across campus and then getting busted by the security guards for indecent exposure.”
Everyone laughed and the conversation continued, but I noticed Lance got more quiet as the evening went on which was highly unusual. Normally, the more Lance drinks, the more boisterous and chatty he becomes.
When I asked him about it later that night when were in bed, his arms wrapped around me like he was my own personal blanket, he brushed it off. Said he was just happy that he got to spend time with his friends.
But I knew something was going on. For a week after, he just seemed down. Although he always wore that outer smile, I just sensed that he felt misplaced. Not alone, but lonely, even when he was with me. And it broke my heart to see him that way.
Yet things are still great with us. He’s the most devoted boyfriend I could have ever hoped for. He seems to be doing great in school and is eager to graduate in the spring. He hasn’t talked about what he wants to do from there, though. It’s as if he’s blocked out that aspect of his future and life.
Which is fine, because not many matriculated college graduates really know what they want to do for careers upon graduation. If they’re lucky, they find a job that can lead to other jobs down the line. I’m not worried about Lance, but something in my gut feels off about him sometimes.
This intuitive vision – thanks to my abuelita, who is always going on about seeing my future – tells me that things with Lance won’t be easy. There’s a storm brewing and I am going to get caught in the epicenter.
Shaking off my worry, I smile when I walk out of class and find him leaning against the brick wall, looking sexy and confident, staring down at his phone. He doesn’t see me as I walk toward him because I’m behind a beefy football player named Jonathan “Corn” Duffus.
I sneak up behind Lance, adjusting my bag around my shoulder, but before I encircle my arms around his waist, I catch a glimpse of the text on his phone.
