“Because he’s proud of you, you dipshit.”
I took a minute to process what she’d said. Both of my parents were guarded with their thoughts and emotions, which had been hard for me growing up because I was the exact opposite—I was an open book. Sometimes, I seriously thought I’d been born into the wrong family. Or maybe I’d been switched at birth.
“You know,” I said thoughtfully, “when you get in the courtroom, you’re going to be in contempt if you don’t watch your mouth.” About the only thing Chelsea and I had in common was our potty mouths.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to come to the engagement party, even if you’re not playing in a game. I know it’s not your scene, and I know how loyal you are to your team.”
“Thanks. That… that means a lot.” I couldn’t believe I was getting choked up talking to my sister. She wasn’t as cold as our parents, but she and I had never been warm and fuzzy together.
“You can meet John another time. He’s a fan.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s a huge football fan in general. He collects shit, like jerseys and game balls.” She paused. “I need to go, but the next time you have big news, like a season-ending injury, let me know, okay?”
“Same goes for you with your engagement.”
“You got it. And also, just so you know, you’ve got a pass for the engagement party, but you better get your ass to the wedding.”
I grinned, the first real smile since I got injured. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
CHAPTER 24
Becca
I CURSED AS we came up on another two-mile backup then looked guiltily at my passenger. Rayowa was a first-year engineering student from Nigeria. She’d started attending the WIE study halls last month, and when I’d learned that she planned to check herself into a hotel while the dorms were closed for fall break, I invited her to come home with me. Thanksgiving at my house was always a hodgepodge of people. My mom made room at our table for anyone who didn’t have somewhere to go for the holiday. She affectionately referred to them as “strays,” which was probably offensive, but no one seemed to mind.
“Sorry about all this traffic,” I said.
Rayowa shook her head. “It is not your fault.”
The younger girl was polite, but she was super quiet. I couldn’t tell whether she was shy or simply not much of a talker. Either way, it made conversation difficult. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, though, and to be honest, that was what I preferred right now as well.
I hadn’t talked to Carson in over a month. I’d seen him once on campus, and the sight of him had stopped me in my tracks. I’d stared at him across the distance, trying to figure out from his appearance everything I’d been wondering.
Has he gotten his appetite back?
Is his arm healing properly?
Is he keeping up with his assignments?
Does he miss me?
Does he still love me?
When he’d turned in my direction, I had nearly run into a tree in my haste to scurry out of sight. But I couldn’t face him, not when the last two questions were still the first and last things on my mind every day, not when I was barely holding myself together. I’d told Carson to come find me once he got himself sorted out. I never actually thought it would take him this long or that he might never come back. It had been a calculated risk, but I’d thought the odds were in my favor.
I guess the joke is on me.
I stood by what I’d said to him, though. Our relationship was no good for either of us if being with me caused him to degrade himself. I didn’t fall in love with the Carson who hated himself. I fell in love with the confident Carson who was loyal, caring, and wore his heart on his sleeve. I’d been too wrapped up in the euphoria of finally being with him that I’d been blind to the change until it was too late.
Being with him for even that short time had been everything. Too bad I realized too late that not having Carson in my life at all was so much worse than being his friend and having to hide my feelings. Now we couldn’t go back.
Several hours later, we finally made it to my house. Rayowa stood aside while I hugged my parents and my mom fussed over me. Then