#Score (18 page)

R
amona

I
stretch
my arms over my head, clutching my elbows tightly to loosen up my shoulder blades. Apparently I was sitting too long on that park bench, because now I feel like I'm about to pass out. It may not have helped working the double shift today, either.

Pulling my hair down, I run my fingers through it, reminding myself to make a hair appointment with Keisha, the lady who does me and my mom's hair. Maybe I'm just feeling extra adventurous, but I kind of want to grow out my bangs again, do something new with my hair for a change. I smile at the thought, wondering what Benji would say if he saw me with some pretty curls instead of the waves I tend to pull up and away from my face.

I lay back on the bed, curling up on my side. My eyes slowly start to drift close when I hear Benji's voice drift down the hallway.

"Nah, I haven't heard anything yet. It's whatever at this point. I mean if they really cared, really wanted me over there, I think they probably would've said something by now. It's no big deal."

My eyes open and I stare up at the ceiling, knowing I shouldn't eavesdrop on Benji's conversation. It just sounded kind of weird . . . I wonder what he's talking about.

I can hear him getting frustrated with each word he says. "I can't tell her yet, Joshua. She'd be . . . she'd be devastated. And I still don't know what I want to do yet, so there's no point in bringing it up until I've made a decision, am I right?"

I got out of bed and crept around the edge of the door, actively listening in. There are one of two options here, and neither one of them are any good to me. Either Benji is hiding something that even I don't know about from his Aunt Melissa, and by the sounds of it, it could be something huge. Or even worse . . . he's hiding it from me. I nervously bite my lip, straining to hear the low murmur of his voice.

"Look, I'm not telling her yet, okay? End of story. I gotta go and ice my feet, so let me let you go real quick.”

The next couple of minutes seem to tick by ever so slowly while I'm debating on whether or not I want call him out on what I just overheard. On one hand, I don't want to seem like a nosy bitch, but on the other hand I don't like the idea of him keeping shit from me. And okay, maybe I'd rather be a nosy bitch that knows what's going on than someone who minded her own business but got left in the dark.

I hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack specifically for his feet out of the freezer.

I take in a deep breath, bracing myself.

Just a few more steps . . .

I watch how he's sitting there, staring at the wall across from him, not even bothering to put the ice pack around his feet. Okay. There's definitely some shit going down right now.

"What's so devastating that you don't feel like sharing with me, Benji?" I ask, making my guess that whatever it is, it's about me. I stand with my arms folded across my chest, trying to keep calm.

The blood drains from his face. "That was supposed to be a private conversation . . ."

I shake my head at him. "Not if you're going to be keeping shit from me, Benji. What was all that about? What is it that you don't want me to know?" He doesn't get to pull that card on me, not today.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down his throat as he swallows loudly. "It's not that big a deal."

I walk closer until I'm standing right in front of him, staring him down. "Really?
She'd be devastated
. . . yeah, that doesn't sound like a big deal at
all
. Now tell me the truth."

I can see he's working it out in his head what he wants to say to me, his dark eyebrows knitted together out of frustration. "Okay. There was a scout that came from London a few months ago. He wanted to see me play in person."

I'm confused. What's so devastating about all that? "A scout? Okay, so what?"

He lets out a long sigh, running his hand through his hair as he hangs his head down. He looks utterly miserable at this point that it’s starting to freak me the fuck out. "He was from West Turkey United. A few months ago, they repealed this stupid law about international players, yada yada. Basically they wanted to come watch me play because they might . . . want to recruit me."

I slowly process what he's saying, the words London and recruit sticking out the most in my mind. "But I thought you were under contract with the Universe?" I'm fully aware of how high-pitched my voice is getting as I think about what this could possibly mean.

He nods, still not able to look directly at me. "I am. Until the season’s over, anyway. But when the season’s through, West Turkey could end up offering me a position on their team. In London."

And when he says it, just those few words alone are enough to send my heart racing, my chest feeling as if it's going to cave in. "In London?"

"Yeah but . . . I don't know, Ramona. I don't know what to fucking do anymore. Even if they want me there, the Universe wants me here, and of course you're here, so there's that too. West Turkey United, God, it's all I ever wanted my whole life. And I knew growing up that it just wasn't a possibility, and I kept pushing, hoping that something would change, that something would somehow magically happen and I'd be able to play for them. It was a really long stretch, believe me, but now . . . talk about bad timing."

Bad timing. I stand stock still, those two words on repeat in my head. Were we ever going to get a break from bad timing? Was that all our relationship was painted out to be? How utterly, ridiculously ironic. "It
is
bad timing," I say with my voice so low that I have trouble hearing it. "But it's your dream. You can't
not
go if they offer it to you. And I think you know that."

He's quick to stand up, grabbing hold of my hands, shaking his head like a crazy person. "No, no way. I know it's my dream but fuck that, I have you now. I'm willing to put all of that aside, I don't need any of it anymore."

I'm fully aware of the way his voice cracks, and I see the tears welling up in his eyes, a first for me. I'm already crying, the tears sliding down my face even though I've been trying to hold them back. "I know, baby. I know. But I can't let you give up on your dream, because it's a big one, and you deserve it more than anyone else. You've worked too hard." It's amazing how I can manage to smile through the tears when I see the misery clearly etched on his face.

"But I can't leave you here, what kind of sense would that make?"

He's pulling me up against him and I inhale the scent of him, trying to mark it in my memory just in case. "Listen to me, all right? Just listen. We don't even know if you've officially got the position with the team yet, okay? So there's still the small chance that you won't get the invite. But let's face it, that's a really small chance. They know how talented you are, everyone does, Benji. So what's going to happen is they're going to offer you the job, and you're going to take it. I love you too much to let you do anything otherwise. This could be your only shot at the one thing you’ve wanted all your life, I mean you just literally said that a minute ago. Don't try and downplay it because anyone who knows you knows how big of a deal this is to you. Especially me, Benji," I say as I place my hand over his chest, feeling his heart racing under it.

His eyes go wide for a moment, and I see him trying to work something out in his mind. "We could do it long distance, you know? People have to be separated for all sorts of reasons all the time. What if I only play one season with them? And then I come right back home to L.A. to be with you again."

I know he means it, but I'm too smart for that. Long distance relationships . . . nothing good ever comes from those. "You and I both know that that would never work. I know you’ll try your best, and I would too, but why would we put ourselves through that kind of hell? You'd be surrounded by all these other girls dying to get close to you, and I . . . I wouldn't want that sitting on my mind every night before I went to bed, you know? I trust you, but it's stupid not to think that it would be incredibly hard on us both. I don't think that would work, honestly."

He takes a few steps back, looking at me like I've burned him. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, Ramona. And I thought maybe you would be too."

I don't want to hurt him because I can see the same pain I feel mirrored in his eyes, stretching across the small space between us. "Benji, I can't. I won't."

He's biting the inside of his cheek, walking around in circles, pacing this way and that. The guy never seems to stop moving, even when he looks like he's being torn in two.

I can feel the panic rising in my throat, the finality of what's going on between us sinking in like a stone. I need to get out of here quickly.

I give him one last pleading look before quietly making my way back to his bedroom where I grab my sketchbook and purse, throwing the bag over my shoulder and taking a deep breath.

"You don’t have to go, baby. Please don't. I really didn't mean to keep this from you, I just didn't know how to tell you, I didn't know when would be the right time—"

I try my best to smile at him. "It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad about that, believe it or not. But I need to get out of here, just for little while. I kind of need some privacy."

He sees it in my eyes that it is not up for debate, and I watch as his shoulders slump, defeated. "All right. Will you please call me . . . when you're ready?"

I nod and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Against my better judgment, I stand up on my tiptoes and kiss him softly, careful not to let the burning consume me.

I can't look back at him before I close his door behind me, and I don't want to see his face when he breaks down.

* * *

I
don't know
what time it is. My phone died sometime last night since I haven't been plugging it in like I should. I don't want to hear whatever anyone has to say, and yes, I'm being a drama queen about it, but I don't fucking care. All I can do is sit here in my room, locked away from the outside world, and think about what kind of messed-up life I must be living. Where the world gives me Benji, who's the gift of a lifetime, in the most beautiful kind of way, and then rips him away with no remorse.

I can't even be mad because he'll be happier this way. And really, that's all I want. Even if it means I destroy my own chance at happiness.

B
enji

I
don't believe
in fate. At least I never have before . . .

So tell me why, the same night Ramona left after basically telling me we would break up if I moved to London, West Turkey United's owner, David Sullivan, got in touch with my coach and within half an hour, I was Skyping with the guy. Tell me why they immediately offered me a position on the team.

Of course I figured they would get in touch with me soon, but after that, I'm not sure I believe in coincidences anymore. I sat there for a whole minute unable to say anything while he waited for me to say yes or no, giving me a weird look, probably thinking my computer froze up or something. Nope, just me.

I thought back to Ramona's words, thinking about how she said I would never forgive myself if I gave up this dream. And knowing she was right, I had no choice.

I fly out to London in three weeks.

* * *

I
stay up all night
, not only because I'm not able to sleep but because my brain is racing, trying to piece together everything I need for the big plans I have. Manically, I grab a notepad and pen, brainstorming everything down to a T, having to laugh at myself since I've never been the organized one in the bunch.

Once five o'clock in the morning rolls around and I'm set to show up for one of our last practices before the big final match the day after tomorrow, I lean back in my chair, totally exhausted but feeling accomplished. Now all I have to do is put everything in motion.

* * *

T
he sand is
cool under my toes, reminding me of the very first night I set foot on the Santa Monica beach, and just like back then, Ramona is standing here with me, holding her shoes in her hand as we walk through to the waves. We’re both quiet, and all I hear are the sounds from the ocean, the waves crashing against the shore, the wind whistling across the water. It's peaceful, just the kind of peace I need before the big day.

Ramona is the first to take a seat in the sand, spreading out the wool blanket she brought along. There’s so much tension in her face, in the way she's been carrying herself since the other night. It took me forever to finally get a hold of her, she kept ignoring everybody's phone calls as far as I know, telling me that she was working on a new project and couldn't be bothered.

I figured I'd let her lie if it made her feel better.

It's weird how we've been both avoiding and circling around each other, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. Thank God I have my plans all laid out or I really would be going berserk right now.

I don't know how long we’re sitting there before I finally gather the courage to say something to start the conversation rolling. "My agent called me yesterday."

She flexes her hands in front of her, letting out a sigh. She knows where this is going. "Okay."

"I Skyped with David Sullivan, the owner of West Turkey United. They, um, want me to come sign the contract so I can play for them once the season’s over."

The breath whooshes out of her chest and she drops her head down for a moment, staring straight ahead. The wind catches one of her soft, almost black locks of hair, blowing it all around behind her.

I don’t know whether I want her to beg me to stay, but when she finally looks back over at me, a sad smile on her face, I know she won’t.

“That’s, wow. Benji, that’s amazing . . . it’s finally happening for you. So when do you leave?” She drags the words very carefully out of her mouth, testing them with a strange look on her face. It kills me to see her trying so hard to keep it together.

“In three weeks. It’s really fast, I know, but their schedule’s a little different than the SLA schedule,” I reply, grabbing handfuls of sand. It strikes me now that not only will I be changing everything all over again, moving away from a place I’ve grown to love, but I’ll be missing out on the beach too.

“That’s really soon.” She doesn’t hold it back now, her voice small and quiet.

I nod because she’s right, it really is soon. “Lots of packing to do, and not very much time to do it, yeah. I’m really going to miss L.A.,” I say, knowing how she feels about the place. “Pretty ridiculous, right?”

She goes along with it. “I don’t know what there is to miss, unless you happen to like rude-ass people who don’t know how to drive, but to each their own, I guess.”

I hate not looking right at her, so I turn around until I’m sitting directly in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “I thought about it, you know? I kept telling myself that I wasn’t going to go, that I wasn’t going to leave. But you’re right, as usual,” I say, smiling at her. “I can’t miss out on something like this, I mean this is my dream. And you’ll never know how much it means to me that you are the one who pointed that out. Only someone who truly cares about me would think to do something like that for me.” I cup her cheek in my hand and Ramona closes her eyes, resting her head against my hand. “I love you so much for that.”

“I do love you, Benji. All I want is for you to be happy, and I know this is what’s best. It’s going to suck, I’m not even going to sugarcoat it, but we’ll both be okay . . . I think.” What’s truly heartbreaking is that I know Ramona believes it, at least about this being the best for me. But the fact that she thinks I would ever be okay . . . well, it’s just a damn good thing I’ve got bigger plans in place.

* * *

W
e mutually decided
that the best thing to do would be for us to spend every waking moment together, practically inseparable from that night on until I was supposed to leave for London. Because why not? The least I could do was spend the next three weeks enjoying each other while we could.

I’m noticing that the frantic moments are some of the best parts, when Ramona wakes me up in the middle of the night, stroking me awake. She’s diving under the covers to suck me off, working her mouth in the best way possible, with her tongue snaking down around my thick cock, her hands stroking me and playing with my balls just the way I like it.

I blow my hot load down her throat, not lasting very long thanks to her oral skills and the fact that she caught me completely off-guard. She positions her naked pussy right over my face and I reciprocate the favor, no problem, grabbing hold of her slim hips as she rides my face while I lick her into oblivion.

But it’s those small moments in between, like when she rolls over and quietly sniffles to herself, when I go back and forth with my decision. After all, I don’t have to make a legit final decision until I fly all the way out to London.

I reach across the bed, missing her warm body next to me. Ramona is up and making breakfast in my kitchen for me before I have to leave and get ready for our team’s big day. I know I should feel more excited. I mean this is a big fucking deal and all, but my heart isn’t in it like it should be. I’m stoked to some degree, but with everything sitting on my chest, it’s hard to be as excited as I should be.

“Something smells good,” I say as I wrap my arms around Ramona’s waist, squeezing her while she is flipping the sausages over. “Hey good-lookin’, whatcha got cookin’?” It’s a vague memory I have in my head of something my dad would always say to my mom in the morning.

R
amona’s
pretty good at faking being okay, and she turns her head to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “Biscuits and gravy. Oh, and I made you some coffee, too,” she says as she points to the fresh pot sitting in the coffeemaker on the counter.

I
inhale
the salty scent of the food, placing more kisses across the back of her neck and under her earlobes, my hands dipping down lower. She’s only wearing a long t-shirt of mine, and I run my hands up under the bottom hem of it, gripping her hipbones as I playfully ground myself against her round ass.

“You’re going to make me burn the food if you don’t keep your hands to yourself,” she teases me.

“That sounds like a challenge. And you know how I feel about those,” I mumble into the nape of her neck, trailing my lips across her beautifully soft skin. She reaches up to cup my face against her, twisting her fingers in my hair to hold me in place as I flick my tongue against her pulse.

And I’m picking her up and setting her ass up on the counter, pushing her thighs apart until I’m tasting her sweetness, lapping her wet juices up. She holds my head hard, guiding me in a way. Her hips buck at my face, and I suck her dark clit in my mouth, loving how she squirms, unable to keep her cool as I eat her pussy. If I could, I’d spend the next three weeks either with my face buried between her legs or my cock shoved deep inside her.

She rocks against my mouth as she comes hard, throwing her head back and screaming, not giving a damn who hears through the thin walls of my apartment. Fuck, I love when she does that.

I slide her down off the counter and twist her to face away from me, wrapping her hair around my one hand while I lift her leg so that it’s up on the counter. She’s practically wriggling around, waiting for what’s coming. I give her a good couple of hard smacks right on her fine ass with my free hand, then I take my throbbing cock and slowly push my swollen cockhead just barely inside of her warm cunt, savoring the hot slickness of her surrounding me on all sides before shoving it all up in her. My balls slap at her as I thrust in and out, frenzied. I can’t get enough of her pussy, the swell of her hips, or the soft fullness of her amazing tits. I don’t think I ever will.

* * *

“
H
oly fuck
, we’re here, man. We’re actually fucking here.” Joshua yells out as we go flying across the back main hall of the stadium toward each other. We do the manly hug thing and I’m laughing, pulled back into the excitement by Joshua’s energy. A few of his teammates are looking at him like he’s fraternizing with the enemy, which I guess he technically is, but we hardly give a damn.

“Hell yeah we’re here. Check us out, Clemson.” I pretend to scream across the country, and we’re fist bumping, psyching each other up even more.