I pound my fist on Nathan’s door. I know all the guys are in there because Nathan posted a story an hour ago with a photo of a stack of board games and tagged the guys.
The door opens and there’s Nathan in his gym shorts and T-shirt looking immediately guilty. “Derek, we weren’t expecting—”
I cut him off when I push my way in past him. “What the hell were y’all thinking messing with my life like that today?”
“Whoa!” he says, throwing his hands up as I storm by. “I guess Nora told you about your plans for the weekend?”
“Yeah, she told me. And she relayed your blackmail information too. That was way too far.” I freeze in the living room at the sight of Jamal, Price, and Lawrence all sitting on the floor around a game. “Monopoly?” I say, in outrage.
Lawrence blinks at me. “Derek…it’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, really? Because it looks like you pricks have the audacity to play my favorite board game without me while simultaneously plotting with my ex-girlfriend-slash-agent behind my back.”
Price grimaces. “Okay, it’s a little bit how it looks, then. You want to be dealt in? It’s not too late.”
“No. I do not want to be dealt in. I want to know what made you guys think it was okay to side with Nora?”
Nathan sets down his glass of wine. “Simple. You were being an ass and toying with her for weeks. Honestly you deserve more than a little blackmail that forced you to do the work you should have been doing the whole time.”
“I didn’t toy with her.” I pissed her off on purpose.
“You sure as hell didn’t value her or treat her with respect,” says Lawrence, standing up from the floor and using his height to make me pay attention. “You’ve been a huge jerk. And not only to her—but to us too, by not returning our calls or coming around anytime we invite you. It’s hurtful.”
“I didn’t mean to…” To what? Because I did mean to shut them out. I did mean to hide away. But I didn’t mean to hurt them in the process. Part of me didn’t think they’d notice or care that much. Is it wrong to say I’m happy to hear they do?
Price scrolls on his phone. “I’m going to order some dinner. What do you guys want tonight?” He looks back at me. “Derek, I assume you’re too full to eat since you’ve got that massive stick up your ass?”
The tension that’s been building in my body all night snaps. I take his phone out of his hand and walk it with me to the coffee table, where I drop it into a full glass of water. It makes a dramatic plop sound. I regret it instantly.
“Pender…” Price drawls ominously as he strides over and removes his phone from the glass. He dries it with his shirt. “You’re lucky this is waterproof, because if Hope tried to call me to tell me she was in labor and I missed it due to you acting like a petulant child, your life would have ended. Apologize.”
Damn, what is happening to me?
“I’m sorry, man,” I say, actually meaning it. My hands scrape through my hair and the height of my anger dissipates. “The truth is…I’m going through a lot. But I haven’t wanted to talk about it.”
Like spending the past few months looking back on my adolescent memories with new light. How would things have been different for me if I’d been supported through my learning differences instead of shamed for
them? And then there’s Nora and everything she told me tonight. She was right—the Derek from college hated his studies and textbooks and classes because of how they made him feel. So inadequate. So lacking. Having to buckle down and study more with her would have driven a wedge between us like it did for me and my parents.
“I’ve been pulling away from you guys because…shit…I’ve just been scared, okay? Scared I’m going to lose you all as friends if I get cut and I’m not a Shark anymore.”
“I wish you’d told us,” says Nathan. “We could have punched you in the balls a long time ago and left Nora out of it completely. Bottom line, you’re not getting rid of us.”
Lawrence grunts a laugh. “We’re all getting older, man. Injuries are going to happen. Retirement is on the horizon for all of us. Except for Nathan because he’ll probably play until he’s eighty.”
Nathan nods. “It’s true.”
“Which is why our friendship isn’t contingent on our contracts. We’re like the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” Lawrence settles back down on the floor.
I raise my eyebrows. “Have we been sharing pants and I don’t know about it? Is that why they’ve all been fitting me wrong lately?”
“I was going to say something the other day. Your pants have looked weird, man.” Price looks to mine now and sure enough…one side is a little shorter than the other.
“No,” Lawrence interjects before we get off the rails too far. “I mean, we’ll always be connected no matter how far apart we are.”
Nathan squints at my legs. “It’s like an inch difference. Have you only been drying one pant leg or something?”
I shrug. “I really don’t know. Maybe one of my legs is still growing and the other stopped?”
Jamal hits me in the face with a pillow. “I don’t give a shit about your ugly pants, Derek. What about the woman?”
“What about her?” I shrug.
His eyes widen in annoyance. “Are you still in love with her?”
For once I’m too tired to fight with him. “Yes, I am. Deeply. Terribly.” Everyone is just as shocked by my honest answer as I am.
Jamal sits up. “Well, damn, this is bad if you’re not threatening to kick my butt out the window over calling your pants ugly.”
That’s when the weight of everything topples over me and I sit heavily on the couch, dropping my face in my hands. “I do still love her. I think I always will. And even more pathetic, I think part of why I’ve been hazing her with chores around my house all week is because I just like having her near me. I like hearing her laugh and her silly quips and the glares she shoots me when she pretends to be upset with me. I like her—more than I’ve liked anyone or anything in my entire life.”
Nathan blows out a heavy breath, making his cheeks puff out. He leans his elbows onto his knees. “I didn’t see that coming. Now I almost feel bad about the blackmail.”
“I don’t,” Jamal says, and we all turn a flat look at him.
Nathan joins me on the couch. “Now that you realize this, what do you want to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
Price sits forward. “He means you must have come here for some other reason than to drop my phone in a glass of water. Do you want to get her back?”
“No,” I say firmly, meaning it.
Jamal rolls his eyes and pushes off the ground, disappearing into the kitchen. He hates my answer.
Nathan levels me with a look that I feel in my soul. “Then what do you want?”
What do I want?
“I want to get over her for good and move on. I think I’ve been so resistant to relationships because part of me has still been holding on to her. I’ve got to let her go, and…I don’t know, maybe I’ll finally let you guys set me up with someone.”
Lawrence stands up. “Okay then, if you want to move on, you’re going to have to act like an adult from now on. Quit hazing her, and just be honest
with her. Tell her that after this Vegas trip, you guys have to part ways. It’s not healthy for you to work so closely with someone you love like that.”
“I agree with Lawrence,” Price adds. “She deserves more respect than what you’ve been giving her, and you deserve to move on. Tell her the truth.”
I breathe deeply. He’s right. Nora has always treated me with respect and kindness. I realize for the first time that her straight-to-the-point breakup was even merciful in a way. She saw we weren’t compatible anymore—she needed to focus on school and study, and my personality rebelled against those things out of self-preservation. Where everyone else in my life was quick to tell me to shape up and try harder, Nora never did. She loved the man I was, and also realized she needed something different for herself and moved on without ever presenting me with a “you need to change to be with me” ultimatum.
And I’ve hazed her because of it.
“You’re right. I’ll tell her on the plane on Friday.”
Jamal suddenly scoffs and emerges from the kitchen with a goblet full of a berry-colored drink that almost matches his shirt.
“First of all.” He points to Nathan. “You didn’t tell me there was sangria!” His finger swivels to Lawrence. “And you gave out the worst advice I’ve ever heard. Clearly the man needs to win back his woman, not let her go.”
I cross my arms and sit back heavily against the couch. “You’re wrong, man. Nora’s not mine. She made that clear years ago, and it’s time I respect that. Now, deal me in for Monopoly and I’ll take a glass of sangria. Throw a piece of ice in there while you’re at it.”
