Chapter 10 Soccer Heads

FOR a solid week I managed to avoid Ellis completely. After his little stunt in the pub, I never wanted to see him again. It was apparent to me that when he kissed that girl, he was screaming at me to fuck off. I was right all along—Ellis wasn’t gay and sleeping with me was a huge mistake. Only, the knowledge hurt like hell, and I was struggling with every ounce of dignity I had to maintain a noncaring front. He could treat me like shit, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. He would never see me cry!

However, as the week dwindled by, I started noticing little things around the apartment that didn’t match up. Like, while I was angry I was blind, but as the days progressed and my anger lessened, I saw details that didn’t make sense. Everything in the apartment was neat and I hadn’t lifted a finger.

I looked at my bookshelf and each one of the bindings was aligned with the edge of the shelf. The CDs were in alphabetical order, as I liked them to be. The pillows were fluffed, and the picture frames had been dusted.

Weird.

 

If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought Ellis moved out.

On the coffee table I spied a Godiva dark-chocolate bar. Only Jonathan knows these are my favorite. How did Ellis find out? What was he up to? Why would he do this? Was it a sick joke to rub it in how great he was, just to laugh in my face and kiss some other random girl the next time I saw him?

I even smelled lemon-scented disinfecting cleaner, the one I used to scrub the kitchen floor. Had Ellis scrubbed the kitchen floor?

I walked into the kitchen and jumped. Ellis was standing there like a serial killer, silent and lurking for no reason. I clutched my chest. “Good God, Ellis! What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Silently hoping you’d go to your room so I could sneak out before my game.”

That didn’t surprise me! “Pft!” I scoffed. “Figures. Can’t stand to stay and face me? I repulse you that much? Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. “Cole.” “What?” I snarled.
Ellis let go and backed off. “Nothing.” His face wasn’t full of

disdain like I expected, it was full of something, but I couldn’t name the expression. Ellis was acting weird. A clean apartment, and a look of… something. I didn’t know what to say. “Fuck any girls lately?” came to mind but I didn’t scream it. I was such a coward.

The doorbell rang, which I was grateful for. It gave me something other than seething hatred to chew on. I stormed to the door and opened it. “What!” I growled again before noticing who had come to call. It was Rob, Russell, and Mike, plus a guy I didn’t recognize.

“And a top of the morning to you too!” Rob quipped, complete with a fake Irish accent. Damn these walking comedians and their tricks!

I glared and left the door open as I walked away.
They came in and slapped each other’s hands, grunting and bumping chests. I swear guys have their own chummy “mating” rituals, yet with no romantic inclinations. Like football players who

pat each other’s butts—why? There seriously is no good reason for a straight guy to pat another guy’s behind. Yet, they do it. If I went around slapping other guy’s butts, it would suddenly stir up litigious hullabaloo about flaunting my homosexual lifestyle. What a bunch of hypocritical shit! People were shit.

And in spite of that, I stood there in the corner of the room wishing for nothing more than to bump my chest against Ellis’s. I was so pathetic. I hated him, but I wanted him so bad. He’d never want me. He flat-out told me sleeping together was a mistake.

I could puke.
Russell and Andre The Giant Junior walked up to me. “Cole, this is Geoff. He’s the goalkeeper on the team.” Russell introduced the new guy to me like I cared.

I lifted the corner of my mouth. “Hi.” I didn’t feel like talking, but I did offer my hand. He shook it. “What does a goalkeeper do?”

All eyes turned my way, telling me just how stupid my question was. It wasn’t what I’d meant to ask, but my mind wasn’t on soccer, it was on the soccer player who hated my guts.

“Let me rephrase the question. How long have you been goalkeeper?” That seemed much more logical to ask.

 

“This is my fourth year on the college varsity team.”

“You must like it. Doesn’t it get boring?” I couldn’t see myself standing there the entire game while all the other players ran around kicking the ball around. Even if the one game I went to was a loss, I didn’t remember seeing him in the goal.

“Sometimes,” he said casually. “But I’d much rather block shots than take them. I’m not a go-ahead guy. Being aggressive enough to play striker just isn’t me. Plus, I’m big. I make a perfect goalie because I don’t have to run and I take up half the goal.”

Understatement of the year! He was big. I mean, Rob was a big guy, but Geoff was a wall. He could be a linebacker! (I know because I have ogled my share of linebackers.) “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Are you coming tonight? It’s one of our last games before playoffs. It should be pretty rowdy.”

 

Rowdy? Just my style. “I don’t know. I have studying to do and—”

“Aww, come on Cole, you have to!” Rob whined, throwing a fake tantrum. He always picked the wrong moments to interrupt a good decline. “I missed you the other night at the pub. You gotta come tonight.”

“I bet you did.” I glared at him, but all he did was smile wider and jump up and down like a puppy surrounded by little children. I looked away from his merry mirth, thinking to myself, No, Rob would probably be the little child who gets on the ground with all the puppies and lets every one of them lick his face. Crap! I couldn’t yank myself away from Rob’s jubilation. It was like a black hole that sucked helpless cynics—like myself—inside. “Fine,” I sneered, although no one but the new guy—Geoff—looked bothered by my tone. “Except I’ve got stuff to do first. Maybe I’ll come for the second half.”

I didn’t know why I put myself in these situations. I was stupid, and pathetic. I didn’t want to go, and yet I did. I felt this mysterious gravitational pull toward Ellis just as strongly as negative energy repelling me in the opposite direction.

Rob got right in my face. “You’re not trying to get out of it, right? No forgetting to show up!” he asserted.

Leave it to Rob to call my bluff. I really planned to conveniently “forget.” I shoved him away from me. “No, I’ll come. Just not now. I need to wash my hair first.” It worked for women, why not me?

At least Russell laughed, but I don’t think he believed me.

TWENTY minutes later, they all headed out the door. It was the longest he and I had been in the same room since I didn’t know when. It felt like forever. Ellis looked back at me as he left. His expression looked curiously like regret, but just before I could ask him why, he shut the door. The room was terribly silent. The entire time they were here, the air had felt oppressive. Sometimes people talked about having a huge elephant in the room, but no one wanted to talk about it; well, that was me and Ellis and the conversation we avoided like the plague.

We had sex and it ruined everything.

I felt like I lost my best friend. We hadn’t laughed in so long my heart ached for the sound his chuckle made when it bounced off the living room walls. Almost like an echo across a canyon when the sound vibrates over every nook and fills the void with tangible resonance.

Ellis’s laughter enveloped me in ways I couldn’t describe and didn’t understand until the apartment was without it. I needed him. And no matter how much it hurt to see him kiss that girl, if I was honest with myself, I wasn’t mad at him—I was mad at myself for not precluding it! I should have known he wasn’t ready! He was an eager beaver full of hormones and idealistic expectations, not sound judgment. If only I’d waited and allowed our friendship to solidify, I could have avoided all this resentment.

Without thinking, I meandered into his room and sat on his bed. I folded my body into his comforter and pillow like it belonged there. I adjusted my face and smelled the place where his mind entered the world of dreams. What did Ellis dream of? Soccer? Exams? Cute blond girls who giggled when he kissed them?

After fifteen minutes of torturing myself, I’d had enough and exited the danger zone. I shouldn’t have violated Ellis’s privacy, anyway, even if all I did was lie on his bed.

I heard the dingle-dingle prompt of a text message, and I retrieved my phone from my pocket. I figured it was from Jon. He might live in Texas, but we still texted often.

Yup, Jon.
Hey, buddy. Boyfriend still avoiding you?

“Hardy har, har!” I grumbled at his message. I should have never mentioned my crush on Ellis. I texted back, Yes. It’s as if I have leprosy.

And you’re sure he’s straight? Kissing one girl doesn’t prove that.

True, but why kiss her at all?
Fear? Confusion? Fucking friends doesn’t always end well. Remember Alisha? We were friends for seven years until we slept together.
I remembered the day she slapped his face in the quad. They

hadn’t spoken for two years now. You had to remind me. Shit! I don’t want to lose Ellis like that. I want my friend back. Then the next time you see him, apologize. Say you’re sorry and take all the blame.

Another text came through. Much to my shock it was from Ellis. You don’t have to watch me play.
I texted Jon quickly, Ellis is texting me.

Then text him, not me! Idiot! Tell him you’re sorry. Talk to me later. Good luck.

Did you hear me? Ellis repeated. Even through text, I could hear his voice getting agitated. You don’t need to come.
“Be straight with me, Ellis!” I hollered at the phone. “You don’t want me there!” Just when it was getting so easy to talk to him, I fucked it all up! I texted back, Rob might strangle me, I have to show. I wanted to type, “I’m sorry,” but I felt I needed to work up to that.
Ellis responded right away. Ignore Rob. Don’t come. I know you hate me for what I said. I’ll start looking for a place to stay after finals.

“What?” I shrieked in the quiet room, piercing my own ears with my shrillness. This was not where I’d expected him to take the conversation! I texted as fast as my fingers would allow and before my nerve talked me out of it. I don’t hate you! I thought you hated me. Please don’t move out! Can’t we work past this somehow? Please?

Did I sound desperate?
This was different than the first time I panicked. Before, all I could think about was getting a roommate worse than Ellis. Now, it was about losing Ellis. I held my breath until he texted back.

Hate you? I don’t hate you. Relief chased the air back out of my lungs. Look—I gotta go or Coach is gonna take my phone. We’ll talk after the game. I don’t hate you. I promise. I’m sorry.

He didn’t hate me! If I’d had some pixie dust, I could have flown. “He doesn’t hate me,” I reassured myself.
Okay, I’ll be at the game. I’m sorry too. Kick some ass and break a leg! I hit send and then second-guessed my message. “Why did I say that? ‘Break a leg’ was for thespians, not jocks. Idiot.”

I hurried to my room and changed my shirt. Ellis liked the “particle science” one. I was going to prove I was sorry. Things were going to improve!
I ARRIVED at the stadium just as the clock started. The bleachers were full for the “home” side, as well as “away.” I scanned the players for number 11. There he was, running fast toward the opposing team’s goal. I stopped and watched as he ripped a shot and hit the upper nineties for a goal thirty-seven seconds into the game!

(I know I act all ignorant at times, but I do know some sports talk.)

Ellis leaped and high-fived his wing, and the crowd erupted. Geoff, the goalie, had said it would be rowdy. “Rowdy” didn’t cut it as far as adjectives go. This crowd was deafening. Who knew there were this many college soccer fans in the great state of Pennsylvania?

I got chills. It was awesome!

By halftime, I’d figured out at least four of the players’ names just by listening to the chants and the parents in the stands, talking. Kevin was the wing, Ollie was a midfielder, Steve seemed to change positions randomly, and Marcus subbed for Kevin when he came out. I know there are like fifteen other players down there on the field, but could I really be bothered to remember all the names? I was focused on only one player—Ellis Montgomery. I watched Ellis nonstop. He was like a cheetah with a soccer ball—fast, fluid, and sleek. Beautiful.

I think this was the first time I was surrounded by jocks and their fans when the “jockness”—bulging muscles, sweat, and male aggression—didn’t turn me on. I didn’t give a hoot about all those built guys on the field. I only cared about one guy. No matter where the conversation went tonight, I was determined to do my darnedest to make things right.

I needed Ellis back in my life!

WHILE the players were getting their halftime pep talk, I stepped up to the snack shack and purchased a shriveled hotdog and bottled water. I thought of Russell as I laced it with mustard and relish, snickering to myself as I mused over what would happen if I waved it in front of him when I got back to my seat in the stands. Tee-hee, I’m so sadistic sometimes. I thought these things, but I never followed through. I was secretly sadistic, but outwardly passive. Call me boring.

I sat down and munched while Russell and Rob continued their discussion. Still! It was going on fifty minutes. They’d been arguing since before I sat down about who made the better starship captain: Jean-Luc Picard or James T. Kirk. I rolled my eyes and watched Ellis. The team was back on the field, shooting in the other direction. The score was 2-2. Soccer is normally a low-scoring sport because it’s all about running the ball and shooting at a well-trained goalkeeper who blocks the shots. Of course my fingers were crossed for Ellis to crush the guy! He ran like rolling thunder. Powerful. His passes were precise and his setups remarkable. Argh, that freaking goalie and his quick hands! Ellis hadn’t made a goal yet this half!

In the background, I heard Russell say that William Shatner hadn’t played a convincing role, and Rob lost it. I shook my head as Rob bellowed, “William Shatner and James T. Kirk are not the same person! That’s like saying Miley Cyrus is the same person as Hannah Montana, when clearly, they’re not!”

Russell didn’t hesitate to reply, “Yes, they are!”
“No… they’re not!”

I smirked to myself. I loved how Rob paused in the middle of his sentences to calmly make his point. I thought it was funny. But seriously, whatever banter ping-ponged between them mattered not. My attention was on Ellis; crisp and clear, sharp-focused while the rest of the world blurred into the background. He said he didn’t hate me, and that proclamation chipped a little more of my regret and self-loathing away every time I repeated it. Ellis doesn’t hate me. It was a proclamation of emancipation of the Reid variety and I was chuffed. Ellis doesn’t hate me.

Time flew on and the other team’s defenders were making it tough on Ellis. It was like they knew he was the best one out there, therefore they never gave him a chance to get a clear shot. I had to give it to Geoff, though; he was doing a great job defending our goal too.

Only minutes left, and they were passing the ball and running it up the field. Kevin the wingman dropped a pass right at Ellis’s feet. He looked to the goal and shot. Short and deflected by the defense, yet the ball got bounced around from head to chest to knee and it didn’t really go anywhere. It was like free-for-all pinball, and the bodies in the box crowded each other to the point of losing the ball momentarily. It rolled within inches of the goal and Ellis reacted. He leaped to follow it in and finish. But another guy leapt too, so Ellis dropped his body and let his feet slide in. (Akin to a slide tackle without another player involved.)

The action was like slow motion. Ellis dropped to his back and slid. A defender careened over him and crashed into one of his own players. The goalie, seeing Ellis about to connect with the ball, dove. The goalie’s body was parallel to the ground as he flew several feet toward Ellis and the ball. Ellis nudged it, and it rolled in just as the hovering goalie lost his battle with gravity and plummeted. He landed on Ellis’s legs but couldn’t stop the ball.

The whistle sounded three times. Our team won 3-2! I jumped up and cheered with the hordes of students. I jumped. I pumped my arms. I screamed. I stopped pumping my arms. I went silent. I stared. A chill passed through me. Someone was helping

Ellis to his feet, and he wasn’t walking. They carried him off the field.

“El?” I heard Rob say behind me. “Come on,” Rob urged, rapping my shoulder and then barreling his way down the bleachers in the blink of an eye. Russell and I followed as quick as we could.

“Give him some space,” the coach said, stretching his arm out to stem the huddle.

The three of us didn’t make it to his side because of the team crowding in, and I wasn’t even sure Ellis knew we were there. Still, we were standing close enough to see the bulge on the inside of his ankle when the assistant coach removed his shin guard and sock.

“Eww.” I cringed and turned away. Even before the coach told him his leg was broken, I could see it for myself. No bone stuck that far out and wasn’t broken.

Another guy on the team came running up with a bag full of ice and some plastic wrap. (Thankfully for Ellis, his teammates act fast.) He took the ice and placed it over the wicked bulge in Ellis’s ankle and proceeded to wrap the plastic around the leg to affix the ice in place. (Something I have never seen before!) “That should hold while you’re on the way to the hospital,” he said.

“I’ll go get my car since it’s parked close,” said the coach. “We’d call an ambulance, but truthfully, they take longer. We know it’s broken. I’ll take you to the emergency room myself.”

“Come on!” Rob said, gesturing for us to follow. He took off at a jog, and Russell and I beat feet to catch up. “No sense in us hanging around if he’s going to the emergency room. We’ll beat him there.”

THERE was no traffic and the hospital was less than twenty minutes away. Rob parked and then we all headed in. Russell grabbed a wheelchair, and we went back outside to meet the coach when he pulled up.

“I gotta hit the head,” Rob announced, oddly. “I’ll be right back. Text me the room number if he gets here before I’m back.”
Rob rushed off and Russell and I shrugged our shoulders at each other. Then Russell called Ellis’s mom and discovered she was on her way because the coach already phoned.

Once they arrived, and Ellis was in a wheelchair, the coach filled out the necessary paperwork and waited until Ellis was wheeled back. Rob followed Ellis, and Russell told the coach he could go if he needed to because Ellis’s mom and dad should be by soon. The coach agreed he couldn’t do any more for Ellis and told Russell to call him with any questions.

Thankfully, the triage nurse let Russell and me join Rob in the room they’d assigned to Ellis. Normally it is only two guests per patient, but I guess I looked pathetic enough not to turn me down. I was only one more than the limit. Surely that wasn’t too bad.

Anyhow, we were in the tiny room together and crowded to say the least.

They rolled Ellis’s bed out to take an X-ray, leaving us to wait. “Did somebody call his mom?” asked Rob.

Russell’s eyes popped open like the little goo-filled squeezietoys I used to play with as a kid. (The ones where the gooey eyes pop ooze out of their sockets when squished. That was Russell as he slapped his cheeks with both palms in utter distress.) “Oh no!” he exclaimed. A split second later, he took his hands away, smiling like an asswipe. “Just kidding. I called when you took a leak.”

“Jerk.”
“But you love me anyway,” Russell replied confidently.

Before long, Ellis was wheeled back in. His face was very pale. He looked as though he was holding in the pain and trying to be tough about it. “Um, did anyone give him something for the pain?” It might sound stupid, but I didn’t trust the nurses when his expression said the contrary. His ice was gone and his leg looked mutilated. It made my stomach churn.

“We gave him one milligram of morphine. The doctor should be in soon to look at the X-rays.” The nurse smiled politely and left us alone again.

I peeked out into the hall. People were rushing everywhere. It was a busy place! I guess I should have been glad that they gave Ellis anything at all for the pain.

Ellis was lying still and hadn’t opened his eyes since he returned to the room. I still wasn’t sure he knew I was there. Would that comfort him? Upset him? I didn’t want to be the cause of more suffering, yet if I left, then I would be the one to suffer. I couldn’t help being selfish; I was staying, gosh darn it!

When the doctor came in, he examined Ellis’s leg by taking hold of his foot and tilting it to the side. I swear, if Ellis weren’t on morphine at all, he’d have leaped up and punched the guy. In fact, I was seriously close to doing it myself. Ellis screamed in agony at the slightest touch!

Seriously? You’re gonna do that to the guy? I mean, why? The bone was all but sticking out of his leg! Sure, it didn’t break the skin, but any moron could tell it was broken! Ellis’s foot sort of flopped in his grasp, and Ellis gripped the bed until his veins exploded from his forearms.

“I know you’re a soccer player and you probably don’t want to hear this, but your leg is broken,” the doctor commented casually.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I grumbled. “Glad they pay you the big bucks to diagnose that one!” I glanced away from Ellis’s clenching fist and up to find all eyes glued to me. “Oh, sorry,” I apologized. “Verbal diarrhea. Won’t happen again.” I made a sign across my lips with my fingers to signify that they’d not hear another peep because my lips were zipped shut and locked with a key. I didn’t regret my cynicism, given the doctor’s colossal insensitivity, but I was thankful that they didn’t ask me to leave. They could have!
Dr. Kevorkian told the nurse to give him more pain meds and left without another glance in my direction. Jeez, if you can’t take the heat, don’t fucking commit the crime! (Not that touching a patient was a crime, but I swear if he did it again just for laughs, I would tackle him!)
Literally two seconds after the nurse gave Ellis another dose, his face relaxed and his fingers unfurled. And, coincidentally, my shoulder blades weren’t touching any longer. Hmm, imagine that! I watched as he opened his eyes and groggily took note of his audience. He saw Rob and smiled. “Rob,” he whispered. Then he leaned his head my way and he mewled. “Cole.” His attention lingered on me, but Russell cleared his throat and stole his attention. “Hey, Russ.” His voice was woozy; the morphine was definitely taking away his pain, which made me feel so much better for him.
“Your parents should be here soon,” Russell said.

“Mmm, good,” he sighed again, turning his attention back to Rob.

Rob, who was on the opposite side of the bed, looked down at poor Ellis. He reached out and smoothed his hair off his forehead. I thought the gesture was endearing and wished I could be bold enough to touch him. “We’re here, buddy. Not leaving you alone.” After a few minutes of standing there silently, Rob suggested, “I think we should pray.”

Rob’s suggestion snapped me out of my daydream scenario where Dr. Killjoy had the broken leg and I was the one testing it. Muahhahhaha! I blinked. What did he say? Pray? I know he’s religious and all, but I wasn’t. I felt uncomfortable. Why was I sweating? Praying wasn’t a big deal. Ellis would probably appreciate it. Was he religious too? I didn’t know. For now, I could get over myself.

Rob reached across the bed for my hand and took Ellis’s hand in his left. Russell reached for Ellis’s other hand after taking mine. Ellis, a bemused expression on his overly serene face, slapped Russell’s hand away. “I want to hold Cole’s hand.” He declared this openly, sounding partially intoxicated, while waving his hand through the air above his head as if in search of mine.

Russell lifted his brows and looked at me.

 

Rob squawked, “Don’t keep the man waiting, Russ; switch spots!”

Russell jumped to it and pushed me closer to Ellis’s side. Ellis took my hand and smiled contentedly. “Mmm,” he sighed. “I like Cole’s hands. They feel so nice.”

Rob cleared his throat. “Alrighty, then! Shall we pray?” Rob looked at me, I looked at Russell, Russell looked at Moonstruck Montgomery, and then we all bowed our heads. I was uncomfortable, but thankfully Rob kept his prayer short. Plus, I was holding Ellis’s hand. I liked that part of it a whole lot!
“Dear Lord,” said Rob quietly. “We ask that you would be with our friend Ellis. We ask that you would ease his pain and help the doctors to fix his broken leg. And we pray that he will be able to play soccer again soon. In your name we ask it, amen.”

When Rob was done, I discovered that Ellis was not letting go. “Ah,” I murmured. “He’s, um, not letting go.” I tugged to display my intent.

Rob waved his hand. “No worries. Let him hold your hand if it makes him feel better. He’s got a broken leg, after all. Plus, he’s so drugged up he probably doesn’t know what’s going on.”

I was relieved in one sense because I really didn’t want to let it go, but the other part of me was disappointed that he might not be aware of his actions. Oh well. Can’t have everything, I guess.

“WE’RE going to do one more X-ray; the side view wasn’t clear

enough,” the nurse said just before rolling his bed away (gurney, I guess it’s called) and leaving me and the guys standing around twiddling our thumbs.

“I’m going to visit the little boy’s room while he’s out and see if his mom and dad are here yet,” Russell said.
He left and I looked at Rob.
“And then there were two,” he said in a funny voice. Possibly a movie reference, but who knew with Rob? He was leaning on the wall between a sanitary deposit for discarded needles and a supply cabinet, staring at me. Why is he staring at me? “So,” he said with a glint in his eye. “You and Ellis, eh?”
If I had been drinking water at that moment, I would have spewed it from my nose. As it was, I choked and sputtered before I had the wherewithal to compose myself. “W-what?”

“You don’t have to act all confused. I watch. I notice things. I see how he looks at you. And….” He leaned closer to whisper the rest. “I saw your right thumb sliding back and forth over his hand while we prayed.”

“Hey! You were supposed to have your eyes closed!” “That’s not a rule, it’s more like common courtesy.”

“Still,” I protested weakly. I didn’t know where he was going with this. Was he going to rail at us? Was he going to call us Sodomites or whatever the Religious Right deemed the term for sinning against God’s holy law? I had nothing to say, and for the life of me I couldn’t line up any comebacks if he did judge me. He was Ellis’s close friend. What would he have to say to him if I outed our relationship before we even had one?

“You don’t have to back away from me. I’m not going to bite you.”
I hadn’t noticed I was moving until he said that and I thumped against the wall behind me. Then I hit my head as I moved in a different direction. Shit! “Ouch!” I grumbled, rubbing my lump.

“Careful, Gilligan. We might be in a hospital, but I don’t want to have to come here and visit you and Ellis separately.”
“Shut up, Rob.”

“Hey, I told you I’m not going to bite. You don’t need to be grouchy.”

 

“I’m always grouchy.”

 

“Not really. You’ve mellowed out. Except for the last couple weeks, after we all went camping. Did you and he…?”

No, no, no, he is not going there! I was about to have a full-out panic attack when the nurse brought Ellis back. Rob quieted down and stepped out of her way. When she left, he looked at me again with a weird expression.

He gestured toward Ellis, who was sleeping. “Go ahead. I won’t say anything.”
“Go ahead and do what?” I honestly didn’t know what he was insinuating I do, and the mysterious mirth on his lips was creepy. Luckily, Russell came back with people I assumed were Ellis’s parents, and I didn’t have to entertain Rob’s fantasies any longer.
His mother moved to his side immediately. When she touched his cheek, Ellis opened his eyes. “Mommy,” he said, reaching for her hand. I was completely jealous, but more than that, I was disappointed that his parents had no idea who I was. I was a nameless face to them. If Ellis and I were dating, would he have told them?
“Ellis!” a girl squealed, pushing past Rob and collapsing over his chest, burying her face in his neck. My eyes went wide. I recognized this girl as the one from the pub. The world felt suddenly cold. Was he still dating her? Oh my God, I felt so stupid showing what little affection I displayed in public when it was clear he wasn’t looking to advance anything with me. He was with this girl! Maybe he simply wanted to try to be friends again and I had jumped to romantic conclusions. Oh God.
The girl was crying as she looked at him. It was sickeningly obvious how much she loved him. She lifted his hand and kissed his palm, and he smiled. Just like that, I felt the door between us slam closed. I backed up slowly, trying to fade into nothingness. Ellis wasn’t mine, and I knew I’d never see him again.