*Slow updates*
After agreeing to be the focus of a college article,
senior Charlie Murtaugh gets more than he bargains for when he's assigned a clueless sophomore who knows nothing about the sport.
...
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Having brunch—now lunch—with Charlie's friends was fun. It was nerve wracking being with the entire basketball team at the same time but Charlie's hands on my knees was all the distraction I needed to get over the nerves that was racked up in my belly. Besides, Brontë and Mila showed up, making it more bearable and Dante and Ryan (funny, because I still think Ryan's an ass—just an ass I happen to like more after today) made sure to keep me involved in the conversation at all times. By the time the food comes, I know one thing for sure they all love and respect Charlie—I can tell by the way the underclass men relate with him—even his friends. And that includes Bradley. Not that Bradley had much to say to Charlie but I'm sure his attendance alone signals that despite their differences, he respects Charlie enough to be there to celebrate with him.
They all had nice things to say about him. It was positively enlightening. And it made my heart squeeze with an emotion that I cannot describe.
Although, the atmosphere was jovial and buzzing with excitement, it was incredibly difficult not to notice that Charlie was distracted. At first, I thought it was in my head but then he'd pick up his phone when any notification came in. It wouldn't take a genius to know that he was waiting for someone to text him and was also avoiding someone's call.
I didn't want to ask him when there were so many listening ears. So I tried my best to ignore even though it killed me inside and listened to the very enthusiastic questions the guys had for me and the conversations going around. Eventually, Brontë playfully scolded the underclassmen for bombarding me with questions and I don't miss how one of them—Tito, a freshman on the team—says it's important that they know almost everything about their Coach's new girlfriend.
I don't have time to correct him because Mila asked me to escort her to the toilet for a wee. Whilst in the toilet, all I could think about was how Charlie never disagreed. Nobody did. It brought a tightness to my chest.
And right before we went back out, I received a message from Dixie.
Stop texting me. Please!
****
Even now, as we drive back towards my complex because Mila had begged to stay over with me, I can tell that there's something wrong. Charlie's phone is buzzig nonstop. Thanks to his phone being on the dashboard, I can see that some are social media notifications and his dad. His dad is calling non-stop.
He picks up his phone again, and I'm forced to speak. "You shouldn't be texting and driving." I make my voice as lighthearted as possible. I watch him as he looks at me briefly, his right hand settling to squeeze my thigh. The action makes my vagina clench but I force myself to focus on his face—there's a child in the car for God's sake. He sighs heavily and the sound alone shatters me. It's crazy, two months ago, Charlie would have sighed the same sigh and I wouldn't think much of it but after last night. After getting to know about his childhood, it's different. The idea of him that I had in my head is gone—disappeared into thin air. And I know it shouldn't make me feel this way but getting a glimpse of him made me want to know him more. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.
