“What’s happening?” Dad asks, his eyes bouncing anxiously between the two of us. His frown deepens. “Linda, what is she talking about?”
I look at my mom, at Linda, and I wonder if she’s who he’s talking to. Or is it me? Has he made a simple mistake, the same one every parent makes when they call their child by their sibling’s name or sometimes the dog’s? Or is he looking at me and seeing the memory of my mom when she was my age, when she looked just like me and I wasn’t even born? When I didn’t exist. Is that the reality we’re in right now? The one without me? Should I go home now? Should I hide, fade away, to make things easier for everyone else?
“I have to go,” I tell them abruptly. I grab my phone off the coffee table as I stand, leaving Michael alone on the couch. He looks up at me with worried eyes as I shuffle past his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside. I have to call Colt.”
“I doubt he has his phone on him right now.” Michael points to the live feed of the game. “He’s kind of busy.”
“I’ll call Sloane, his agent. She’ll know what’s going on.”
“Is she in Minnesota?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s still on the field. Even if she’s there she won’t know anything.”
“I have to do something,” I tell him sharply. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
Dad leans back to look at Mom. “Who is she talking about?”
“Colt Avery’s agent. Her name is Sloane.”
“How does she know Colt Avery’s agent?”
I hurry outside to the backyard, pulling the heavy sliding glass door shut behind me before I can hear the rest of that conversation. Before I can hear my dad call me ‘her’ again instead of using my name. Once I’m out I immediately start to shiver against the cold. I should have brought my jacket.
I know he won’t answer, but I try Colt’s phone first. It goes straight to voicemail.
What’s up? This is Colt Avery. Leave it at the beep. Or better yet, text me, you dinosaur.
The sound of his voice makes me smile. It makes me sad. It makes me hurt and hate myself for what I’ve done. Ro was right; I overreacted to what happened last Sunday. I freaked out and I ended it with him because I was scared. Because I was a coward. Because I’m mist, a ghost, and I’m terrified that that happy, whole feeling I get when I’m with Colt can’t last. That I’ll get used to it, I’ll fall in love with it and him and us, and one day he’ll leave, and he’ll take it with him. He’ll take the last of me, and I’ll be nothing. I’ll be no one.
And that thought scares the absolute shit out of me.
I scroll through my text messages to find Sloane’s contact info. The last thing she said to me was, Get your cute little ass to the bar. We’re all waiting for you guys. It was the night I sang karaoke and he told me I was worth more than diamonds. It was a good night, right up until it wasn’t. Right up until it started the landslide that sent me running.
“I don’t know anything yet,” Sloane answers brusquely. Her voice is muffled, like she’s holding the phone with her shoulder. “I’ll call you as soon as I do.”
“Are you in Minnesota?” I ask anxiously.
“No. I’m in my office in L.A. but I’ve got my Go Bag and I’m heading to the airport now.”
“What’s a Go Bag?”
She grunts faintly, distracted. “I always have a packed bag with a few days’ worth of gear in it here at the office. I have three clients spread all across the country, not to mention Trey. I have to be ready to go anywhere at any time in case they need me.”
“I wish I could go with you.”
“Get to LAX in the next hour and you can.”
My blood rushes at the thought. “I don’t know if… I’m not sure he’ll want to see me.”
“Are you talking about your fake breakup?”
“It wasn’t fake.”
“It’s stupid though,” she replies candidly. “You guys are great together. You don’t walk away from that over, what? What was the break up about?”
“It’s private.”
Sloane laughs. The sound of her voice changes. She’s holding the phone in her hand now, giving me her full attention. “Can I be real with you, Lilly?”
“Have you not been already?”
“I’ve been nice. This is real; there is no private. Not in this business. You try to keep something private and it will blow up in your face. You’ve gotta go all in or get out. Right now you’re out. How does it feel?”
I look at the ground, my eyes stinging cold and sharp. “It feels like shit.”