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Good fortune? More like my worst nightmare. I’m already having a hard enough time pretending he doesn’t exist. Forced proximity is not going to help.
“A different type of relationship,” I continue in a quieter voice. “I can’t go back to seeing you as just a famous football player now.”
This is my future we’re talking about. My career. My reputation.”
“Having you here is a distraction for me, okay?”
“I can help you, Saylor. I know your style of play better than anyone else here.”
“You watched hours of footage of every team attending in order to prepare to come here?” “I never said I watched footage of anyone else.”
“Otto hung a sign that says, ‘Saylor Scott’s Inspiration’ above my locker,” Beck states. A reluctant grin tugs at my lips. “That’s kind of funny.” It’s also nice to know he didn’t totally erase me from his life the way I’ve tried to remove him from mine. “I thought so, too,” Beck admits. “Not that I’ll ever tell him that.”
“It means I want to date you. Be in a relationship. Whatever you want to call it. I want you, Saylor.”
“I’m just a girl you used to sleep with. One of many.”
“You’re a lot more than that to me… but I can’t figure out what I am to you. If I’m anything to you.”
“Well, it’s not exactly black and white. That’s why there are a million songs and books and movies about it. No love story is exactly the same, the way no two people are exactly the same.”
I like things to be black and white. Adler Beck is a whole lot of gray. Overwhelming, confusing gray.
“Relying on people is not a mistake. Relying entirely on someone who doesn’t rely on you is.
You’re strong, Saylor. So, so strong. You don’t need someone to hold you up, but it’s nice to have someone to lean on.”
The girl who grew up convinced love was a legend and the woman worried she might have found and flung it.
I can’t see anything through the canopy of leaves, and I prefer it that way. Stars have a way of suggesting too much. The vastness of the universe makes me feel too small, too inconsequential.
