Not like Lily was.
We settled on one corner of the practice field and Annie turned to me, taking our a recorder and turning it on. I shook my head, and she blinked a couple times, not understanding. I pointed at the recorder, and she smiled a little less wide this time and turned it off.
“What’s up, sugar? What can I help you with?” Even her accent sounded fake.
“Tell me about Lily Pearson and Bill Thompson.”
CHAPTER 21 - LILY
After practice ended on Friday I realized that I had had enough of this. I had gone around moping for 3 days now, barely talking to Drake during our interviews, just writing my column and not even saying a word to him or even looking his direction when we weren’t on the practice field.
Ugh. I hated this. And people weren’t even talking about it anymore! Like all shitty and stupid rumors it had died quick, because after the initial phase of “no way, really?” that came with this particularly salacious rumor, everyone realized that oh wait, who gave a shit?
Of course I knew the truth. Of course I knew who had started this rumor. But I couldn’t say anything. If I did, I’d just be the vengeful bitch trying to get back at clean as pure snow Annie Ross for airing my dirty laundry in public.
No, I couldn’t do that. But I could fix things up with Drake. I knew that he didn’t really know me all that well, and I knew that he was just honestly asking if the rumor was true.
It had hurt a lot to see him standing there and looking at me like that, like he was so disappointed in me. Just him thinking that it might even be true was enough for the knife to cut directly into me. I liked him so much, couldn’t stop thinking about him, but I also couldn’t stop replaying him asking me if I had slept with Bill Thompson over and over in my head, with that sincerely hurt look on his face.
I hated how I had acted, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I decided on Friday morning, though, that I would fix it after practice that day. I would talk to Drake before or after our usual post-practice interview and I would apologize for freezing him out like that all week, for acting like he was barely there, just an answer machine for me to ask questions to.
I felt better almost immediately after I decided it, and the rest of the day went so much better just knowing that we would have all this stuff patched up in no time.
The weather was gorgeous, the perfect New England summer day, and thankfully the humidity was lower than usual today. I actually heard the players grumble a little less about practice, given that just jogging around today wouldn’t have them covered in sweat.
Apparently when you were a giant football player staring at a long regular season and a hopeful deep playoff run, it was the little things like a slightly cooler practice session that mattered the most.
Football players were funny like that.
I even wondered whether Drake might be able to come over tonight after he was done with his other stuff - we could have a nice night in together, and possibly even sleep in in the morning!
Listen to me, the subject of one sleeping around rumor, meanwhile I was trying to setup another rendezvous in my mind! Such a dirty tramp I was!
I laughed to myself as I turned to look for Drake.
Oh.
Oh HELL NO.
What was Drake doing talking to Annie Ross?! He knew what she had done to me, the vile lie she had spread about me!
And now he was talking to her after practice? When he had a regularly scheduled interview with me?
Again, the tears came without warning, but this time I was able to wipe them away. The anger helped. I felt my cheeks get hot, though, and despite my love for journalism, running neck and neck with my love for the New England Patriots, I found myself wanting to be anywhere else than where I was at that very moment, on the practice field, watching my team head back to the locker room after a good practice.
I couldn’t believe that I had let Drake twist me around like this. I should have known that he couldn’t change his ways. He was a skirt-chaser and would be till his dying day. Why had I even thought that I could change him?
Why had I even thought I could get involved with a player on the team I covered? Ugh, I was so stupid. This had to have been one of the dumbest things I had ever done.
And now the best thing I could do, given the situation was try and get myself out of it with a minimum of mess.
I turned and headed toward the entrance to the building where my room was, hoping to get out of sight before another wave of emotions about Drake overtook me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
As I hurried into the tunnel, thankful to get out of the sun and get some cover over me so no one else could see my distress, I heard footsteps behind me, heavy ones, the sound of cleats on cement. I’d recognize that sound anywhere.