CHAPTER 3

NO CHOICES

LANCE

I give the police my statement while a doctor fly-bandages my eyebrow. Just because I didn’t start this doesn’t mean I’m not going to catch heat for it. I’m notorious for starting shit on the ice. I never throw the first punch, though. I’m smarter than that. I push buttons and needle players until I piss them off enough that they lose their cool.

This isn’t like a hockey fight, though. This was a brawl in a very public bar that caused more than ten thousand dollars damage. Because of Tash. Because I can’t stay away from her, and I keep letting her screw with my head. I’ll need to call my publicist to deal with the fallout, but right now I’ve got a throbbing headache, and I just want to go the fuck home.

I hate hospitals. I’ll do almost anything to avoid them. I’d rather get stitched up on the bench without any kind of painkiller than be sitting here. I’m edgy because of it, and a little panicky. Hospitals bring back all sorts of shitty memories.

The last time I was in a hospital was when Waters, our team captain, took a serious hit that knocked him unconscious. The time before that was the night my brother died.

I was eleven. He was eight. It was my fault.

The doctor wants me to stay the night for observation, but I lie and tell him I’ve got a roommate who will wake me up. I can’t stay here. I’ll lose my mind if I do.

The doctor makes me call my “roommate.” Ballistic is the most likely to wake up and answer, as well as give me the least grief over this.

As predicted, he doesn’t ask any questions, just says he’ll be there as soon as he can.

I sit in the chair rather than on the bed while I wait. I stare at the empty mattress and fall back into memories I’ve tried to bury for years, but can’t. 

We were going to be late. It was my fault because I’d been screwing around, playing ball hockey with some of the guys after school even though my mum said to come right home. Now we’d have to run if we were going to make it.

Quinn wasn’t a fast runner, though, so he kept falling behind, and he was whining about being out of breath. He had asthma, so I slowed down and found his puffer in his bag.

There was a shortcut we could take, but my mum always told us never to go that way, ’cause it was through a bad part of town. It’d cut ten minutes off our walk, though, and then we wouldn’t be late and Quinn wouldn’t have to run.

“Don’t tell her we came this way,” I ordered. “We’ll get in trouble if we’re late.”

He hesitated for a second. Trouble in our house didn’t mean losing privileges and not having time to play video games. It meant my mum losing it. Sometimes when she was mad, she hit me. It’d been happening more often.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Quinn said.

Decision made, we slipped through the broken fence and down an alleyway. It was dank and dark and smelled like urine. We were halfway through when four guys appeared out of the shadows. They were older—I couldn’t tell how old—maybe in high school still, maybe beyond that.

My heart kicked up a notch, and Quinn sucked in a breath as I moved him behind me. There were too many of them for me to protect him.

They circled us. Taunting. We had money. We wore it in expensive rucksacks and nice clothes. They wanted what we had. Quinn got mouthy, which he only ever did in my presence, and when they tried to take his rucksack his books fell out, scattering over the ground, so I pushed one of them.

And that’s when everything changed. The sharp sting of something hard hit me in the back. And then again and again. I knew what it was: rocks in socks. Fill an old sock with rocks and it becomes a violent, effective weapon.

I covered my head and spun, searching for Quinn, who was screaming.

The sound cut short when one of the teenagers’ makeshift weapons slammed into his temple.

Quinn’s mouth was open, and his eyes were suddenly blank as his body swayed and crumpled to the ground.

Sirens wailed like crying babies in the distance. The teenagers shouted and swore and disappeared like vapor.

I shook my brother, blood dripping from his temple. I screamed his name, but his eyes were vacant.

He was gone. And it was my fault. 

“Lance? Buddy?”

I rub my eyes to black out the memories and hiss at the pain in my right one. I look up to find Randy standing at the door of the room in pajama pants and a wrinkled T-shirt.

His eyes go wide as he takes in my face. “What the fuck happened to you?”

I push up out of the chair and bite back my groan. I’m already sore, and it’s only been a few hours. “I’ll explain in the car.”

We don’t talk in the elevator.

“Wiener’s in the truck,” Randy says as we cross the parking lot.

It takes me a few seconds to process that. “Miller and Sunny’s dog?”

“Yeah, we’re watching him for a few days ’cause he’s making it difficult for Sunny to sleep. If I didn’t take him, he would’ve whined at the door until I got back and kept Lily up. She’s gotta skate first thing in the morning.”

“Shit. Did I wake her?”

“Nah, she had a busy day. She was KO’d when I left.” The truck beeps as he unlocks it.

I open the passenger door and Wiener barks at me, then runs to the other side like he’s never seen me before. Wiener is a wiener dog, hence the name. Miller and Sunny have been fostering him for awhile, and Randy and Lily have taken him for sleepovers or whatever. It’s like training wheels for kids, I guess. The thing is freaking skittish.

Climbing into the truck hurts. And it’s only going to get worse, which isn’t great since we have skate practice tomorrow afternoon in preparation for next week’s final exhibition game before the season. I buckle up as Randy turns over the ignition and talks to his dog as if it’s a person.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened that I’m picking you up at the hospital in the middle of the night all beat to shit?” Randy asks.

“Tash happened.”

He pauses with his hand on the gearshift. “Tash did this to you?”

“No. Tash didn’t do this.” I motion to my face. “She’s what happened tonight that resulted in this bullshit.”

“You’re gonna explain that so it makes sense, right?”

“Tash is in town. She wanted to see me.”

“Again? Wasn’t she just here a few weeks ago?”

“She came back. As she does.”

Randy knows I’m not good at saying no to her. “Ah, man. You should’ve called. You could’ve come over. Or I would’ve gone for beers with you or something.”

“You had a night planned with Lily.”

“We were just watching a movie. It wasn’t a big thing.”

“The season’s starting soon. I’m not going to interfere with your time with her.” Especially not since his dad blew in and out of town not long ago and that sure as fuck didn’t go well. I think he might still be repairing the damage.

“Lily would’ve understood.”

Wiener turns around three times beside me and settles his butt against my leg. I know better than to pet him right away or we’ll have to go through the whole barking-skittish thing again.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to be the friend who’s a problem.”

“You’re not a problem, Romance.” Randy taps his steering wheel. “So I’m guessing things with Tash didn’t go well?”

“Nope.”

“What happened?”

“Just the usual bullshit. Me wanting things I shouldn’t, expecting it to be different when it never is.”

Randy doesn’t know how things go down between me and Tash. He has a vague understanding that I wanted more out of it than she did, and that’s about it. As far as most of the team is concerned, I’m the asshole because we were fucking in the gym locker room and got caught, resulting in Tash’s termination from her job as team trainer. The real story behind that scenario isn’t quite so straightforward.

“What happened that your face ended up being used as a punching bag?”

“I went to a bar, and some chick recognized me. She and her friend propositioned me, and one of them had a boyfriend she failed to mention. He showed up and got all aggressive, and I stepped in the middle to make sure she didn’t get a fist in her face.”

It’s the abridged version. Randy doesn’t need to know the less-than-flattering details. He’s aware of what I’m like when I’m in a bad mood, especially after I’ve seen Tash.

“Jesus.”

“Pretty sure he wasn’t looking to save me based on the state of my face.” I close my eyes. My head hurts. I can’t tell if it’s from the concussion or the whiskey, or both.

Wiener nudges my hand, which is his way of telling me he’s ready for pets. I scratch his head, but keep my eyes closed. I’m so tired of everything.

Randy nudges my shoulder. “’Kay, man, we’re home.”

I crack a lid, disoriented until I realize I’ve fallen asleep and we’re parked in Randy’s driveway. “You brought me to your place?”

“You have a concussion. You gotta be woken up every two hours.”

“It’s mild. I’m fine.”

Randy strokes his beard. “And if Tash calls again?”

“She’s not gonna call again.”

“You sure about that?

“If she does I won’t answer.”

That’s bullshit and we both know it—especially after a night like this. My phone’s full of messages from her, waiting for a reply.

“That’s what you said last time, and look where that’s gotten you. I don’t know why she’s got such a hold on you, man, but you need to get her out of your life. She’s fucking toxic. You gotta cut her out like cancer.”

“I know, man.” I tap my temple. “She just gets in here, and I can’t get her out.” And sometimes I want her there, because the pain she causes is something I understand.

Wiener lets me pick him up and carry him into the house. Randy’s place is nice, in a nice part of town, but it’s not reflective of the money he makes. He could live in a monster house if he wanted. Instead he lives in a very reasonable house.

“The spare room’s already made up.” He leads me down the hall and shows me where the towels and stuff are. “I’ll be back in two hours to make sure you’re still alive.”

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“It’s no problem. Get some rest. You need to be on it for practice tomorrow.”

He leaves me alone in the spare room. I go to the bathroom and check out my face. It’s beat up. I took a couple solid shots to the ribs, and being slammed into the table definitely didn’t feel good. I brush my teeth and spit out a lot of pink thanks to the lacerations in my mouth.

I pop a couple of aspirin and lie down. My phone still goes off every once in a while. I should turn it off and leave it until the morning—or longer. But I don’t. Instead I hit the button and the screen lights up.

In addition to the thirty text messages, I have three voicemails from Tash. All in just a few short hours. I don’t have the energy to deal with them, and if I check them, I’ll end up calling her back. Then she’ll come here, and then I’ll do something I’ll regret even more than not fucking her, so I finally turn my phone off. Only about seven hours too late.

Randy’s right. I need to get her out of my life, or she’s going to put more than my career in jeopardy again.

“Lance?” Fingers poke at my shoulder, followed by snapping close to my ear and a familiar female voice. “Lance, can you hear me?”

I grunt and roll over, but that hurts, a lot, so I roll back the other way.

“Sorry, buddy, I know you want to sleep. I just need confirmation that you know who I am and where you are and then you can go right back to dreamland.”

Randy’s girlfriend, Lily, pries my eyelid open.

I bat her hand away from my face. “Fuck! I’m awake. Jesus.”

“Such a sweet mouth you have. You’re welcome for making sure you’re not brain dead.”

An image of my brother’s vacant eyes appears behind my lids. I cover my eyes with my forearm, hissing when I hit my eyebrow. The pain erases the memory.

“I have aspirin and water for you, both of which you could use, judging from the state of your face.”

I peek out from under my arm. “Why’re you so nice?”

Lily snorts. “Probably because Randy gives me at least one orgasm a day.”

I cringe. I already know those two get it on all the time; I don’t need additional confirmation. Not so long ago, Randy spent a lot of time partying with me, but not so much since he and Lily got serious.

“I think you’re spending too much time with Violet.”

Violet is my team captain’s wife. I married them while we were in Vegas a few months back, because I happen to be ordained. I did it a few years ago, when a friend needed a favor. I did it over the internet, but it’s legitimate. I never actually thought it would come in handy again.

“That’s also probably true.” She passes me a glass and sets the pills on the comforter. “Randy’ll be your next wake-up call. I’ll be back around noon.”

“I’ll definitely be gone by then.”

“Don’t worry about it if you’re not.”

I down the pills and the water as she closes the door behind her. I’m exhausted. I close my eyes, trying to find the will to pry them open again and get out of my friend’s house before the next two-hour block passes. That’s not what happens.

I must pass out hard again, because the next time I remember anything, Lily’s waking me up to tell me I have practice in a couple of hours. Randy’s already gone because he had a meeting with his agent.

Our last preseason game is this weekend. It doesn’t matter how shitty I feel; I have to be on the ice today. I throw the covers off and hit the bathroom. I’ve been out for a lot of hours, but the sleep hasn’t done anything to offset the myriad aches in my body. If anything, they’ve multiplied.

I turn on the water and strip off my shirt and pants. I must’ve left my boxers in Tash’s hotel room. I hope she’s gone already like she said she would be in her messages yesterday.

I’m quick about showering. I still have to get my car—which is at some bar on the south side from what I recall—and stop at my place before practice. It isn’t until I’m drying off that I get a good look at the damage I sustained last night. It’s no wonder I feel like I’ve taken up a second career as an MMA fighter.

Beyond the fly bandage on my left eyebrow and the corresponding black eye and split lip, I have bruises along my ribs and lower back. There are a few on my legs as well.

I put my jeans back on, but my shirt has blood on it—most likely mine. I’d prefer not to drive by that bar wearing it, so I open the door, ready to find Lily so I can ask about borrowing something of Randy’s.

Wiener’s sitting outside my door. He barks and scampers off in the direction of Lily and Randy’s room. At my feet is a pair of dark-wash jeans, boxers, and a fresh T-shirt. She’s also left me deodorant and more aspirin. I’m grateful for the thoughtfulness. I don’t want to be shirtless in Randy’s house, alone with his girlfriend.

My reputation is an issue. I’d never go after one of my teammate’s girls, but I don’t want to make Lily uncomfortable, or give Randy a reason to mistrust me around her. It’s better to avoid those kinds of situations altogether.

I pick up what’s been left for me, but before I can disappear back into the guest room, Lily steps into the hall from her bedroom, Wiener running around her feet. She’s dragging a brush through her chin-length black hair.

“Oh. You got the—” She scans my torso, then reaches out like she’s considering touching me, but thinks better of it. “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

“It looks worse than it is. It’s just bruises for the most part. Thanks for these.” I nod to the clothes I’m holding, step back into the room, and close the door with Lily still staring.

I change into Randy’s clothes. He’s a little narrower, so the jeans are snugger than I’m used to, but at least they’re clean and don’t smell like a bar—or have any blood on them. I probably should’ve pressed charges, but being drunk didn’t help my cause last night. Neither did being in the hospital.

I’m careful pulling the shirt over my split eyebrow. It’s tight on my arms and across my chest, but it’ll do until I get home.

Once I’m dressed, I fold up my clothes and make the bed, even though I’m sure they’ll be changing the sheets after I leave. I hear noise coming from the kitchen, so I follow the sound.

The smell of food cooking hits me as I round the corner. “Thanks for the hospitality. I’m gonna grab a cab and head out.”

Lily looks up from the stove. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t have to work this afternoon. I can drive you wherever you need to go.”

“You’ve already done more than enough.”

“Well, I’m making grilled cheese, and two of these are for you, so you have to stay now, or it’d be rude.”

I lean against the doorjamb. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She props a fist on her hip and points her spatula at me. “You’re part of Randy’s team, and you’re his friend. That makes you like family. There’s coffee on, and there’s cream in the fridge if you want it. You can’t go to practice without eating.”

She’s so matter of fact about it, like it’s nothing that she’s making me something to eat. I pour a coffee for myself and search the cupboards until I find plates. Then I get the ketchup from the fridge and find dill pickle spears at the back of one of the shelves.

I set everything out on the kitchen island, leaving a stool between us so we’re not sitting right next to each other. Lily sets a plate in front of me. Cheese oozes out of the middle of the sandwiches she’s cut in half.

“Sorry they’re a little messy. Randy has a hard time keeping weight on when the season starts, and, well, that’s the story of my life, so I go a little overboard with the cheese. I hope this is okay.”

My throat closes like I’m being choked, like my body is preparing for a backhand to go with her kindness. But it doesn’t come. All there is is a plate in front of me with two golden, gooey sandwiches and my friend’s girlfriend looking apologetic for going out of her way to help me.

For a second I’m jealous of what Randy and Lily have. I try to imagine Tash doing something like this for me, but I can’t. I don’t think it’s in her to care about people this way. It was always just about her, and what she wanted. And that was never really me.

Lily sits in the place I’ve set for her. She squirts an ungodly amount of ketchup on her plate, dips the corner of her sandwich, and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

“When I was growing up, we only had plastic cheese slices, but I’d go to Sunny’s house and her mom always made grilled cheese with Gouda or Swiss. There were always globs of melted cheese on my plate at the end. Even though it was messy, I loved it so much. I loved the ones my mom made for me too, but God, it was like cheese magic at the Waters’ house.”

“Sounds pretty awesome.” Waters has known Lily his entire life. His sister is her best friend. They’re close like family should be. I don’t have those kinds of memories from my childhood, even though it was a privileged one. After my brother died, everything good fell apart.

Before Lily takes another bite she asks, “Did your mom ever make you grilled cheese?”

I shake my head. “Nah.” My mother never would’ve done anything like cook. “My nanny did, though. We had grilled cheese and onion sandwiches.”

Lily pulls a face. “Cheese and onion?”

“It’s really good.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes. It’s been ages since someone made me something to eat who wasn’t paid to do it.

Lily pauses with her sandwich. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. I might not answer it, though.”

“Why does that not surprise me in the least?”

I’ve learned how to avoid or fabricate when necessary to protect myself. My entire life has been a lie. A glossy, dressed-up lie. My mother is the kind of beautiful people carve into stone, but inside she’s ugly—like most people seem to be. I don’t think Lily fits into that category, though.

She gestures to my face. “Why do you let Tash do this to you?”

“Tash didn’t do this; some pissed-off juicer with a God complex did.”

Lily dips her sandwich in the ketchup again. For someone as small as she is, she sure can pack it away. “Before I met Randy, I dated this guy Benji for seven years.”

Tash was probably my longest relationship, if I can even call it that. It was never monogamous. She made sure of that. There was a girl I dated my sophomore year of high school, but I was young, and even then I couldn’t handle getting close to people, so while it went on for a couple of months, it never felt like anything real.

“That’s a long time to be with one person.”

Lily nods. “We started dating when I was in grade nine. He was…stable. Well, more stable than my own situation. I grew up without a dad, and my mom wasn’t very good at picking decent guys. Neither was I.”

“We can’t make good choices all the time.” Randy’s mentioned Lily’s douche ex a couple of times. She’s a good person, so I can see how an asshole might use that quality to his advantage.

“He wasn’t always a bad choice. For a lot of years he was good to me, or at least relatively speaking. Anyway, after a while it stopped being a good thing. He spent a lot of time bringing me down. He could be mean, abusive.”

I think about what it would be like if Randy lost his shit on her and got physical, the kind of damage he could do. She’s so small—one hit could break bones. I can’t believe Randy hasn’t knocked this guy’s teeth out if that’s what she’s talking about.

“He hit you?”

Lily raises a hand, and I realize I’m halfway out of my seat, like I’m going to find the guy and beat him for her.

“It wasn’t like that,” she says. “It was emotional. He manipulated me a lot. He was subversive, antagonistic. He said things that were intentionally hurtful. It got worse over time, and I just sort of put up with it, thinking it must be normal. I stayed with him a lot longer than I should’ve.”

“Tash is good at manipulating, but that bullshit is done.” I don’t buy the words as I say them, even if I want them to be true. I haven’t even listened to her voicemails yet, or read her messages. But I probably will, because I torment myself this way.

Lily finishes the last bite of her first sandwich, swallowing before she responds. “Benji and I used to break up a lot. He would make threats, tell me he was going to sleep with other girls.”

“That’s a dickhead thing to do.” And exactly what Tash has done to me. And still does even though we’re not together, except it’s not isolated to one sex or the other.

“It is.”

“Did he screw other girls?”

“Probably. I can’t ever be sure one way or the other because he lied a lot, and sometimes it was just to make me jealous. But the not knowing was hard. His actions caused a lot of damage on the inside. The kind you can’t see, but affects a lot of things. I get that now. For a long time I kept letting it happen until I realized it wasn’t going to get better.”

I get what she’s saying. I understand it perfectly. But there’s a distinct difference between me and Lily: She’s actually a decent human being.

“What changed?” I ask.

“I decided I didn’t want him to have any more power over me, so I took it away.”

“Was it that easy?” I think about how things went down last night. How Tash duped me again. How I shouldn’t have gone to see her in the first place, but I couldn’t find it in me to stay away. I knew it wasn’t going to go the way I wanted. I knew there had to be a ploy, but I went anyway.

“It wasn’t. Randy made it easier.”

“He’s all about you.”

“And I’m all about him.”

I don’t have anyone to distract me from Tash. Of course there are bunnies. Lots of them, and they’re always interested in getting fucked. But that’s as far as it ever goes.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

Lily’s eyes dart away. “It’s personal.”

“I’ll continue to reserve the right not to answer if I don’t feel like it.”

She chews her lip, and a flush creeps up her cheeks.

“Why didn’t things work out with Tash?”

“I wanted something she didn’t.”

“Which was what?”

For her not to fuck other people, or bring me other people to fuck. “I just wanted it to be her and me, but she didn’t.”

“So she wanted to see other guys?”

“Or women, whatever. She was very inclusive.”

Lily looks confused. “And you told her what you wanted?”

“Yeah.”

“And she didn’t want to be exclusive?”

“Nope.”

“But you were still with her, even though she was with other people?” The flush in her cheeks deepens to a red that touches the tip of her ears.

“I thought maybe it would change eventually.” No need to tell her Tash and I have been with the same woman at the same time. She’s shocked enough as it is.

“The thought of being with anyone other than Randy makes me feel sick.” Lily cringes, and I drop my head.

I don’t want to see how her opinion of me has changed.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I shouldn’t have said that. It sounds judgmental, and I didn’t mean it to.”

“It’s okay. I get what you mean. How you feel is the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Still, it’s not my place to put my feelings on anyone else.” She shoves the last bite of her second sandwich in her mouth and pushes away from the table.

I’ve made her uncomfortable. But I don’t want her to look at me like there’s something wrong with me, even though there is.

“I don’t know. I kept hoping she’d decide I was enough. Stupid, huh?”

“It’s not stupid, Lance. Sometimes it’s hard to tell your heart not to want someone, even if all they do is hurt you.”

Lily drives me to the south side, and I’m embarrassed to discover I can’t remember exactly which bar I went to. After twenty minutes of driving around, I finally find the place, but my Hummer isn’t on any of the surrounding streets.

Eventually I realize it’s been towed. I’m already cutting it close. I still need to go home and grab my gear before I go to the rink.

I feel like shit having Lily drive me to get my stuff and drop me off at the arena, but she’s nice about it, not making it a big deal. Still, this would’ve been easier with Randy. By the time I get to the rink, the aspirin I took this morning has worn off, and all the aches are back.

I’m stiff and slow during practice. Evan Smart, the team trainer who replaced Tash, pulls me aside.

“You wanna tell me about this?” He motions to my face.

If my shorts had pockets, my hands would be in them. “I ran into a problem last night.”

He crosses his beefy arms over his chest and waits.

“I got into it with some asshole who thought degrading women was an awesome pastime.”

“So you started a fight? Jesus, Romero, it’s pre-season. You need to keep your shit together.”

“I didn’t start it. A guy the size of a tank came after his girl, and I stepped in the way of his fist.”

Evan doesn’t look like he believes me. Which isn’t a surprise. He and I don’t like each other all that much. I’m thinking it’s ’cause he’s under the impression I’m the reason Tash lost her job. I’m also aggressive and volatile on the ice. I spend the most time in the penalty box out of all the guys on the team. Actually, out of almost all the guys in the league.

Evan sighs. “Where’s the damage?”

“I’m fine. Just a little sore. I’ll do some stretches so I’m good to go for tomorrow’s practice.” I use the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

“Jesus Christ, man.” Evan prevents me from dropping my shirt and covering all the bruises I’d forgotten about. “You look like you got steamrolled by a truck. You’re not fine. Is anything broken? Did you even go to the hospital?” When he tries to touch my ribs, I pull away.

“I saw a doctor last night. It’s just bruises and some glue in my eyebrow.” I smooth my shirt out.

“I want to see the X-rays and reports on that. You need to see a massage therapist at the very least, and get in a couple of physical therapy sessions if you think you’re gonna play on Sunday.”

“It looks worse than it is. I’ll be fine.”

“This is not a request. I’ll set up the appointments, and you’ll go or you’ll be benched.”

“Fine. I’ll do the therapy, but I don’t do massages.”

“Again, not a request.” He pulls out his phone and makes a call. I think I’m in the clear when the team massage therapist tells him they’re all booked up, except he gets another number and makes a second call. There are a few minutes of back and forth during which he glares at me. “In an hour? Yup. Perfect. He’ll be there.”

“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. I want to argue, but there isn’t an option. Explaining why I hate massages will raise more questions than I want to answer.

“Get your ass in gear, Romero. I called in a favor. You need to be on the ice on Sunday for the sake of your team, and that’s not going to happen if you don’t take care of yourself. The clinic I’m sending you to is about twenty minutes from here. Get showered and changed and go. I’ll get a call if you don’t show up, and you’ll be watching the game from your couch at home if you don’t make it.”

He messages me the directions. I hit the shower, and Randy offers to drive me since I still don’t have my vehicle. He’s got Miller with him. Apparently Sunny and Lily decided to do pedicures or some girly crap and won’t be home for a couple more hours, so they’re happy to chauffeur me around.

I’m fifteen minutes early for the appointment, so I pull my hood up and make a half-assed attempt at filling out the paperwork. I don’t want to be recognized, and I don’t want to invite conversation. The receptionist is chatty, and if I make eye contact, I know she’ll have all sorts of questions I’m not interested in answering.

My picture’s already ended up on a few sites in the past twenty-four hours. My agent and publicist are going to be on my ass. I haven’t called either of them, though I have messages from both on top of all the ones from Tash I haven’t looked at yet.

I put my phone on silent, stuff it in my pocket, and close my eyes. The messages and problems aren’t going anywhere. They’ll all still be waiting for me after this torturous massage.