Moonshot

“Is she the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen or what?” Grant peered at me alongside Chase, and I shifted, reaching down and picking up my backpack, my stomach tighter.

“I won’t argue with that.” There was too much feeling in his voice, and I looked up in warning, my eyes sharp, Grant catching the inflection and turning to him with a laugh.

“Now easy there. Don’t go getting any designs on her. You may not know it, but you’re looking at my future daughter-in-law.” My stomach dropped even further and I felt suddenly hot, stars appearing in my vision, and I didn’t realize that stress could make you physically sick.

“Is that so?” Chase’s voice was low and steel, and all I wanted to do was escape.

Instead, I tried a laugh, the sound almost strangled. I reached out, patting the older man’s arm. “Did you see the Marlins’ highlights?” I babbled. “Grio batted 4 for 5.”

The man brushed me off, turning back to Chase. “Have you met my son yet? Tobey’s at Harvard. He’s smart as a whip and has had eyes for Ty here since she first joined us.”

“I was twelve,” I interjected. “I don’t think Tobey liked me then.”

“Well,” he conceded, “maybe not then. But those two…” He smiled big, turning to me with a wink. “They’re destined to be together. I just know it. So, what do you say Ty? Dinner with us Tuesday night?”

I almost swayed, the need to vomit growing stronger with each shade darker that Chase’s face grew. “Let me check with Dad,” I promised Grant. Then, gripping my backpack tightly, I turned tightly on my heel and all but sprinted down the hall, hitting the bathroom and bending over the toilet.





I didn’t vomit. Maybe all I needed was to escape the situation. Maybe wiping my face down with cold water helped. What didn’t help was the bathroom door opening, Chase entering, and staring at me with a face of fury. “What was that?” he bit out. “You’re betrothed to that prick?”

“I was being polite,” I yanked at the paper towels and pointed to the door. “You’re not allowed to be in here. It’s the women’s bathroom.”

“And you’re the only woman within a hundred feet. And it didn’t sound like you were being polite. It sounds like you’re childhood sweethearts with this guy.”

“I wasn’t. I’m not,” I shot out, my phone buzzing in my pocket, probably my Dad, looking for me.

“Have you ever dated him?”

“No. Not…” I amended. “Not ever a relationship. Just isolated things.”

“Things?” he pressed, stepping closer, caging me against the sink. “Like what?”

“You know. Dates,” I managed, and this conversation would be a thousand times easier if I hadn’t slept with Tobey.

“And?”

“And what?” I exploded. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” But I had. Even if it was fresh off the heels of seeing him with those girls. Even if I was mad, and we weren’t exclusive, it had all been wrong. From the minute I stepped into his room, it’d been wrong.

“Have you kissed him?”

I flushed. I could literally feel the heat on my cheeks and watched his face pale, his features tighten. “You have,” he said, the words carefully controlled.

“I’ve known him a long time,” I said. “We’ve kissed before. It’s not a big deal.” Now was the moment I should tell him the truth. I knew that, yet it seemed the stupidest decision ever.

“Just kissed.”

“No.” The word was a rough exhale from my lips, and he closed his eyes in response, his fist flexing and unflexing, the motion one of bare control. I was almost afraid to continue, this side of Chase one I’d never seen. “I slept with him.” My mind begged, silently, for him not to ask questions, for him to take the information and leave, for this to be a brief fight that would continue later. Instead, he asked the one question I hoped he wouldn’t.

“When?”

I looked down at my shoes, my weight heavy against the sink, my voice small when it came. “The night we first … when I saw you with those girls in your room.” I lifted my head. “When you had left me alone in the room and went to do drugs.” The final sentence had fight in it, and his eyes flared.

“So ... you told me no. You stopped me. And then you went to him? And let him do that?”

“We weren’t … us … then. We weren’t anything then.” I sobbed the words, my heart breaking as he looked at me in a way I’d never seen, like I wasn’t the person he loved, like we weren’t in love.

“I loved you…” He stepped back from me, his voice gruff, cracking on the syllables. “I loved you from the minute I saw you. I thought…” He brought his hands to his head and turned away from me. “I thought it was the same for you.”