Settle the Score / Hustle Play

Chapter Three | Time Out

Charles looked at me as if he’d never met me before after I pulled away from that kiss.

And I... well.

I left the coliseum feeling like the weight I carried on my shoulders since learning of Nica’s secret became a huge mass that settled inside my chest. Justine and Colby did a fantastic job keeping Nica away from me after that kiss, but she’d still been able to inflict a little pain. My scalp felt sore and my cheek stung, but the dull ache in my chest remained.

“I still cannot believe you kissed him!”

“Was that the plan? Get Nica to play dumper instead of dumpee? Because that would make a lot of sense.”

We sat inside a fast-food restaurant near the coliseum. Justine had asked for a glass of ice from the counter and was now putting several cubes onto her handkerchief. She bunched the fabric up and held it to my cheek. I held the makeshift ice pack absentmindedly, wondering if Charles and Nica were fighting that very moment. At the same time, I wondered about the kind of conversation Charles and I would and should be having after this.

I heard snapping in my ear.

“Are you with us?” Colby asked. She’d been saying something, but it took me a few more seconds to tune in.

The look on Justine’s face was one of concern. “I think you should repeat what you said, Colbs. The side effect of kissing Charlie seems to be hearing loss.”

I smacked my forehead a few times. “I screwed up. He’s going to hate me for the rest of his life.”

“Not if he learns about what Nica’s been doing to him!”

“Still!” I insisted. “Why couldn’t I have told him straight like a normal person?”

Colby shook her head. “Because you know him like we do. We know he’s not going to give up on Nica just like that. Stubborn idiot.”

“Charlie trusts us with a lot of things, but that girl has bewitched him,” Justine added and turned to Colby. “Remember when I told him I saw Nica making out with some guy at the oval?”

Colby rolled her eyes so hard, I worried they wouldn’t come back down the right way.

“And when I told him to rethink his relationship with her when she completely forgot about his birthday?”

Listening to Justine and Colby made me feel like what I did was justifiable, even if I had a nagging feeling in my chest that what I did put a death sentence on my friendship with Charles.

“I just wish that bitch breaks up with him already,” Colby finished, then got up and announced she needed to drink something because “My throat dried up, seeing you kiss Charlie like that.”

That made me laugh, at least.

* * * * *

Charles was first to text that night.

Was so happy to see you at the compe earlier, he said, punctuated with a smiling emoticon.

That was it.

I stared at my phone screen for a long while and waited for another message. I didn’t know what exactly I wanted to see, but no mention of The Kiss? That was unsettling. Was he trying to pretend it didn’t happen? Why the heck would he thank me for coming when I did something terrible?

Figured we shouldn’t stray from tradition, I replied. If he wanted to be nonchalant, two could play that game.

It took thirty-six minutes for him to send a reply. (Or maybe he was busy. Whatever. Thirty-six minutes.)

Meant a lot was what he said.

I felt like flinging my phone out the window. Why were we skirting this issue? Surely we couldn’t avoid this forever, especially not when we usually shared courts for practices.

I dialed his number, but when Charles picked up after the first ring, I got stumped.

“Hey, you.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Good job, brain.

“Garnet?”

“Y-eah. Sorry, got distracted.”

“Monitoring a Scorpions game again?”

“You know it.”

That was a lie. I was only lounging on the couch, agonizing over my life choices. His response was a hearty laugh that sent good shivers down my spine.

“If you’re still obsessing about their defense because of that rookie from your alma mater, don’t. You’ll wing it, Garns.”

“Charlie.”

“Seriously!”

“Coffee tomorrow, three-ish?”

He paused. I figured he realized what I was doing.

“Could we push it back an hour? I’m driving Natalie to ballet class and back.”

“Four, then.”

“All right. See you tomorrow,” he said, then added, “Stop watching that game and get some rest.”

Like I could.