Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (12 page)

September fades to October, and we’re setting up for an epic Halloween bash. Our costumes are fabulous and all Avery’s doing. We are going as Fire, Hot, and Mild Taco Bell sauces. Avery took two pillowcases for each color and created dresses with ties up the side.

Lee Lee is Fire, red with ‘Open quickly . . . I’m burning up in here!’ written across; Avery is Hot because I refused to wear orange. Her message ‘Why order a taco when you can ask it politely?’ I can’t help my laughter. My Mild in yellow has ‘Save a bun. Eat a taco.’ And I’m close to refusing to wear it. Besides the message, there is nothing to these flimsy ass costumes. As I’m shimmying in this thing, my eyes meet Avery’s ass . . . stamped with ‘Think outside the bun.’ I glance back, and it adorns all our asses.

We’ve all fallen into a pseudo-routine. During the week we go to class. The guys have practice and workouts. I have continued doing their laundry for extra cash. Maybe once or twice a week we all eat together minus Deacon. I understand why he doesn’t do the weekday thing, wanting to keep Julie’s schedule. We alternate hosting parties, but that has quieted down some—the guys are in the thick of their rigorous routine with workouts and practice, mix in classes and homework, and there isn’t a lot of time. But Sundays . . . we order take-out and just hang. We do this early each week to allow time for Julie’s night routine, but Deacon still doesn’t show. Week after week his absence is noticed. It’s harmless, and he could bring Julie, but he chooses not to. I know it’s weighing everyone down. With all the changes growing up and college bring, they didn’t expect growing apart to be a factor. It hits Mason the hardest. He doesn’t say anything, but he watches the door until eight every Sunday, and like clockwork, his mood turns sullen.

The nights Lee Lee and Avery work out, Deacon seeks me out. He catches me as I’m coming in from class or he’ll knock on the door. We don’t talk about what happened with us; he doesn’t push me for a repeat, but we watch Julie while she is in one of her baby activities and our conversations drift to the day we’ve had, upcoming plans . . . I listen to tales and stories of their childhood and give up very little when he asks me.

I know he’s coming tonight and they’ve been hush-hush about their costumes. Avery finishes the second braid in my hair, and I apply lip-gloss. Why they thought doing pigtail braids with these outfits was smart, I’ll never know. We look like schoolgirls gone bad. I can’t help feeling giddy, though. In all my eighteen years, I’ve never felt more alive. More free.

Journaling is an ongoing struggle. I can’t seem to write anything. My thoughts drift to Deacon as I hold the pen to the blank page and instead of writing my feelings down, I envision telling him. I get frustrated and throw the pen across the room, slam my journal closed, and allow the frustration to overtake me. I can’t talk to Avery about it, she’s
#TeamDeacon
all the way. Lee Lee and I don’t have that relationship. She’s still nice to me, but there is that imaginary line we don’t cross; it is more of a barrier on her side, and I respect it. Her frequent trips home have her edgy and grumpy, so I give her wide berth. I know what Mason’s advice would be . . . fuck his brains out. Caden is my silent observer. He’s a nut I can’t crack but presents himself as an open book . . . he has his friends fooled.

The three of us walk from my room and catcalls and whistles ensue. I’m blushing, and Avery is rolling her eyes. Lee Lee is strutting. The center of attention is one place she is happy. The crowd parts, and I see them. Deacon, Mason, and Caden . . . dressed as Starbucks drinks. I can’t help the laughter percolating in my chest. Mason hollers, “Bitches love Starbucks.” I wipe the tears and shake my head.

“Bitches also don’t like being referred to as bitches.” I roll my eyes at him, and it’s like they’ve seen us for the first time. Their jaws drop, Mason starts leering, Caden is perusing us, and Deacon grabs a throw off the back of a chair and covers me. I push it off and warn him with my eyes. He reaches for me and tugs a braid.

My scalp tingles, and my stomach flutters. “Damn, Shortstop. I don’t think I’d refer to you as mild.” He winks and tries covering me again while I’m distracted.

Time for a diversion. “I’m not drinking tonight.” I wink at him and saunter past him, making sure to sway my ass just enough to keep his attention. I hear his groan from fifteen feet away and can’t stop the grin.

I play hostess. I don’t drink a drop, and I feel his eyes tracking my every step. As soon as I get a break, I make a beeline towards him. “Hey, got a minute?”

“From your statement earlier, I’m hoping to have all night.” I smile at him. My mind still isn’t made up.

“Why don’t you come for Sunday dinners?” His eyes widen, and I can see he’s taken aback.

“I don’t want to be a buzz kill.”

“Bullshit. We’ve told you we don’t drink, get wild, or anything Julie can’t be a part of. We eat dinner and catch up. Your friends miss you.”

He shrugs. “I feel like they resent Julie.”

“Maybe . . . but not for the reasons you think. You use her as a shield. You don’t let them get close to her.”

“She’s the most important thing to me, Saylor.”

“And in turn they love her. They just miss you.”

“Really?” He looks shocked.

I roll my eyes. “For lifelong friendships, y’all suck at communication.”

“Yeah, and you’re fucking Chatty Cathy. This is the first time any of us have been in this situation.”

“True. I think they’re afraid to push because they don’t want to lose you all together. Mason looks at the door for hours every Sunday. He talks about Julie, asking me what new milestones she’s hit. Avery and Lee Lee ask me to snap pictures on my phone all the time. Caden just goes with the flow, but he’s bothered. They feel like you replaced them with Julie and now me. You’re making your friends feel like they’re on the outside looking in, watching your life, but they aren’t allowed to participate.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of it like that.” I know he has the world on his shoulders . . . as in Julie is his world. I just want to make it better for all of them.

“Well, come this Sunday. I promise it will be fine.” He smiles at me, his eyes sparkling and his dimples showing. My tongue comes out and licks my lips, but what it really wants to do is trace those dimples.

“So you coming to my bed tonight?”

“Nope.” I wink and walk off. I want to, but it will confuse things with us. I do enough of the push and pull thing, and until I can get some clarity, I’m not sleeping with him. I want him to get his relationship with his friends back on track before adding me to the mix. It’s important for all of them. Time isn’t guaranteed in any aspect of life.

She makes me a fucking pussy. Hearts and flowers I would do for her—better yet, I want to do them for her. I want to take her skewed sense of reality and show her what she’s missing. Fairytales can come true. Goals aren’t the only thing to have in your life. You need love, happiness, family, and friends. Obtainable goals are one thing, but I want to teach her to reach for the stars. I want to be by her side when she grabs one of those stars and makes it hers. I want to give her the feeling I get when the bases are loaded and I hit it over the fence.

“What’s up DD?” Mason claps my shoulder.

“Looking for a fire.”

“What for?”

“To burn my man card because that girl is making me doubt I have balls.”

“Ah, Shortstop. She’ll quit playing one day. Realize she can’t go without the double D.”

“After our practice tomorrow, you and Caden want to come over and hang? We can catch a football game or shoot some pool.”

I see the shock pass across his face, and I feel like an ass. That girl opens my eyes in every facet of my life. “You gonna have Julie?” I nod. A grin spreads wide, “Hell yeah, we’ll be there.” I pat his back as I head back to my place. I don’t know how I missed what I was doing, but now that it’s been pointed out, it’s obvious. My friends love me and by extension Julie. I’ve made them feel unworthy of a relationship with her. I’ve diminished our history and friendship in doing so. That’s gonna change. As well as the language we use. Not now…she’s too young, but we need to practice.

I grab my phone from my pocket and text Saylor.

Me: Thanks. Mason and Caden are coming over after practice. It’s amazing what happens when your eyes are opened.

SS: Welcome. Now to make Avery and Lee Lee happy aunts.

Me: Gonna figure it out. What can I do to open your eyes?

SS: ?

Me: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Open your eyes to us.

SS: They’re blinking. Getting used to your light.

Me: Night, Saylor.

SS: Nite, Deacon.

Time to up my game. I’m gonna blind this girl into submission.

Sometime during practice and picking up Julie, Saylor and the girls dropped off a sandwich platter, veggie tray, and a twelve pack of beer. Their note said they were going to the movies, but Lee Lee and Avery called dibs for spending next Saturday with her. I shake my head wondering if they realize she’s only six months old, and they can’t do a beauty or shopping session with her.

We’re hanging in my basement—my house has the only finished one out of the three. I have workout equipment in one area, and the rest is my man cave with Julie’s shit scattered everywhere. Caden is racking the balls for a game of pool, and I’m juggling my princess. She’s fussy and running a low-grade fever . . . teething is upon us. My mom tried to keep her for me, but I refused. I stopped and got every teething remedy and toy I could find, but I can’t seem to appease her. The balls being hit startle her, and the screams begin. I jostle, pace, coo—nothing is helping.

Mason comes over, plucks her out of my arms, and takes the stairs, disappearing from my sight. I start to follow, but Caden halts me. “Come on, Douglas. Your turn. I’m solids.” I let my eyes wander to the steps. “He’ll be fine. Do you think he would hurt your baby? You think any of us would put her in jeopardy?”

I shake my head. “No, man.”

“Take your shot.” I hear a cry from my baby, and it takes all I have to resist going after them, but I don’t. I trust my friend with my life; therefore, I trust him with Julie. Caden and I continue to play, both of us rusty, and Mason comes down with Julie asleep against his chest, her bottle tucked in his pocket, and a burp rag flung over his shoulder.

I stare in wonderment. His face is content, he’s sporting a smile from ear to ear, rubbing his big hand up and down her back—he’s a damn natural. “Thanks, man.”