Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
The setup was usually pretty standard. Six smaller courts and a main venue surrounded by bleachers. The tournament started on Thursday with qualifying rounds and ended Sunday night with the championship. Most indoor tournaments had a similar feel…minus the perks of being at the beach, so I knew that the stress level would spike during the elimination rounds on Saturday and be off the charts by Sunday.
The beach was my happy place. It always had been. It was my escape zone when life seemed bleak at home. When I was little, I’d play in the sand or frolic in the waves. Later, I body-surfed and hung out with my friends, getting high. And I played volleyball.
My sport gave me everything I needed. It was fun, but it required hard work and discipline. And it was something I could do with my friends. I’d never once dreaded going to the beach. This was my space. No one could take this from me. Not Gus, not Sophie, and definitely not Drew.
Tucker greeted me with an absent nod and handed me a lanyard when I dropped my backpack onto the sand next to our gear. I glanced over at Gus and Craig stretching in the sand while Dave paced the far perimeter with his cell to his ear. All very normal. But the hum of expectation and excitement in the air indicated something special was underway. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it until I fixed a couple of things first.
“You look wrecked. Are you nervous? You don’t usually get nervous,” Tucker commented.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Hmph. Where’s Braden? I have his lanyard. He’s gonna need this to—”
“He’s not coming.”
Tucker pulled off his sunglasses and frowned. “Why not?”
I didn’t answer. I picked up a ball and tossed it in the air, stiffening when I saw a couple of reporters lurking nearby. “Where’s Sophie?”
“She’s around here somewhere. She said something about taking a few casual pics before everything got started. Drew was with her. Has the guy ever been to a volleyball game in his life? It doesn’t seem right that he’s here and Braden isn’t,” he said.
“I know. I can’t do anything about Braden right now, but I can undo part of this lame sideshow.” I inclined my head toward Gus when Sophie and Drew approached to talk to him. “Show time. Hey, Drew!”
“El, hurry up! Photo time!”
I ignored Sophie and motioned my ex to meet me halfway. I didn’t mind hashing this out with an audience, but I preferred it if I didn’t have to.
“Good morning,” he said. “So this is where you work. I can’t believe how many people are here for this. It’s exciting and—”
“I want you to leave, Drew.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I don’t know why you’re here or what your angle is, but we’re never getting back together, and having you here feels…wrong. I obviously can’t kick you off the beach. If you want to hang out, that’s on you. But don’t touch me, don’t smile at me or give anyone the impression we’re anything more than two guys who are very over each other.”
He furrowed his brow in bewilderment, then sighed.
“Oh. Wow. I thought you wanted this. Sophie told me you were in on the idea and…I thought this was some weirdly romantic way to—” Drew shoved his hands into his shorts and bit his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I think our signals got mixed.”
“I’m not surprised. We weren’t very good at communicating,” I said gently. “Look, I’m grateful I met you when I did. You were the person I needed to know then. It hurt when it ended, but it was the right thing. It’s over now.”
“Okay. Thanks for telling me. I wish you’d said something last night, but—”
“Yeah. Me too,” I huffed ruefully. “I’m not going to hug you good-bye. Sophie will sic the photographers on us, and I’m not into the drama. So let’s just agree this is done here and now. I wish you well.”
Drew smiled. “You grew up, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He nodded. “Good luck to you, El. Today, this weekend, and…every day.”
“Thanks. You too.”
I watched my ex-boyfriend walk away with a sense of relief that comes with real closure. If we bumped into each other again, it wouldn’t feel strange. I wouldn’t wonder how I’d fucked up or if I could have done something differently. And damn, it felt really fucking good.
“Where’d he go?” Sophie asked, tugging at my arm.
“Home? I don’t know. I sent him away.”
“You what? He’s part of all this! You can’t just send him away,” she insisted.
“Sure, but there’s been a change of plans on my side. I’m not doing the ex thing.”
Sophie growled beside me. “We’ve been over this, El. It’s for fun. It doesn’t mean anything and—”
“Exactly. So why are you fucking with my life? Is this all some fucked up scheme to get back at me for not wanting the same thing you did?” I hissed in a low voice.