It was ironic because that shut everything else off too.

Me: Damian called. Mind if I give you a goodbye hug through our phones? Can you feel it?

Damian was one of the few reasons Trent would believe I needed space.

I felt a burning in my throat. The bark had moved to the side.

I hit send, and there was a small pause.

Trent: Sounds good. Call me if you want to talk.

I pocketed the phone, knowing I wouldn’t call, knowing he knew I wouldn’t call, and knowing we both knew the next time we’d talk was when he came back at the end of this whole preseason training camp.

Turning off the light in the cage, I slid onto the stool behind the counter.

I sat and watched Reese Forster play, knowing this was a special moment in my life. I wanted to protect it, even if that meant lying to a friend.

I was okay with that, and if I explained it to Trent later, I thought he’d be okay with it too.

Babe.

Buzz.

I’m sorry.

Buzz.

Babe, forgive me.

Buzz.

Babe.

Buzz.

Babe.

Buzz.

Babe.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

I swatted at a fly. It was waking me up, and it kept coming around. Finally, hearing another buzz, I bolted upright with my pillow in hand, and I swung. That sucker was going down.

But…

No fly.

I swung and the pillow hit me in the face. I ate cloth.

I had to sit for a minute and get my bearings, but when I heard another buzz, along with the words of Ricky Nelson’s “Baby I’m Sorry,” which I had programmed at an accidental brilliant moment. The song sounded different because I got the phone to sing it in an Australian accent. Genius, I tell you.

Without looking, I knew who the texts were from, and then I was wishing for the fly instead.

That song played every time Lucas texted, which meant he… I had no clue what it meant, actually. I hadn’t heard a word from him since Newt broke the news to me and I’d left the next day with Trent.

I did the math, which was hard, and we were at the forty-eight-hour mark. So either Lucas just found out or the next girl had already dumped him.

I considered for a second, and my money was on the girl. I rolled over and picked up the phone.

Lucas: Why aren’t you answering my texts?

Lucas: Where are you?

Lucas: Gramps said you came by. I missed you.

Lucas: I miss you now.

Lucas: You’re still not answering— He was covering his ass. There were twenty other texts from him, and I deleted all of them—without blinking, without a second thought, without reading. One by one, I wiped them clear, and once the screen was blank, a satisfied smile came to my face.

I lie back down, closing my eyes. I could get another twenty minutes of shut-eye.

BUZZ.

It was louder now that I was awake.

Groaning, I flipped the phone on and hit call. I was ready for him, expecting him to answer.

It rang, and rang, and then, “This is the Luc-machine. Say your piece and I might listen…”

He didn’t answer and he’d literally just texted.

After the beep, I said, “Dude. You were fucking another girl. Your grandpa told me. We’re done, and save your drool. You were the guy to help me get over someone ten times better than you. I used you, so whatever. We’re through. You’re not worth the time it took to call you.” I started to hang up, but brought the phone back to my mouth. “Do not call, text, send smoke signals, think about me, or jerk off to me. Done, Luc-you-bet-your-ass-you’re-an-ass. BYE, Felicia.”

There.

I hung up, then wiped him from the phone and his number too.

Then I realized the last text hadn’t been from him.

Trent: Hey. Call me later. Want to make sure you’re okay.

Well… I sat and stared at it, and groaned. Shit on me.

Me: Sorry I flaked last night. I’m fine. How was your flight?

I studied my phone after that, looking at the history, and saw that Lucas had texted all day yesterday. They just all came flooding in at the same time because reception was iffy on this island.

Well...still didn’t matter. He cheated. We were done.

A new text came in.

Unknown: Bitch.

That was Lucas.

I laughed, and once I started, I kept going.

I was tempted to tell him I’d met Reese Forster last night, just for some revenge, but it wasn’t worth risking my NDA. He was the type to call Keith and tattle on me, or worse—show up so I would introduce him.

I groaned. I was too awake now. It was five in the morning. I’d gotten four hours of sleep. But in camp life, that was almost eight hours. Reese Forster had kept running drills until twelve-thirty. I could’ve kicked him out at midnight, but I hadn’t had the heart.

I’d turned the light off in the cage, though, so when he was done, he must’ve thought I’d gone.

I was like a creepy statue against the wall, just to the side of the counter. If he had looked in and to his left, he would’ve seen me there. I’m sure that would’ve gone over well, but he hadn’t. He put the ball on the counter, made sure it didn’t fall off, and left, hitting the light switch as he went.

It had been dark, but a little bit of moonlight showed through the screen door, so I could see enough to take the ball and put it on the floor, then feel around for the door handle. My phone was in my pocket. I had been just leaving the cage, pulling my phone out to light the way, when I heard the screen door open again.