Endgame: Chapter 21 (Patreon)

Endgame: Chapter 21

Zulema closed her locker and, even though she wouldn’t look right at me, I felt every glance out of the corner of her eye. I knew what she was wondering, even if she hadn’t asked since Monday.

“I decided,” I said, and she immediately threw herself backward onto the bench beside me. “I don’t want to lose her, even if it means we have to work our asses off for each other while she’s in Oregon.”

ZuZu grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. “So, are you going to call her? Or what?”

I shrugged. “Her surgery was only two days ago. I don’t want to call and bombard her with this conversation if she’s still really out of it.”

“Text, then? To see how she’s feeling?”

“Text.” I nodded and pulled my phone out of my duffle bag while Zulema stood and leaned back against the lockers to give me some privacy. But I was suddenly nervous. I hadn’t talked to Morgan in almost a week, and I had no idea if she even wanted to hear from me. Or if she was ready to talk about us.

Wanting to get a feel for how she felt about even talking to me in the first place, I typed out a quick, ‘Hey… are you still mad at me?’ But the moment I hit ‘send,’ I was flooded with the mortifying realization of exactly how stupid that was.

“Shit.” It was too late to take it back. Shit, shit, shit. I jumped off the bench, and in my horror, I released the phone from my hands and watched it land face down on the floor. “No, god, ZuZu, I messed it up. Shit.”

“What the hell, Audrey?” she asked, bending down to pick up my phone. “What’d you do?”

“I said, ‘are you still mad at me?’” I took my phone from her as she planted her forehead in her palm. My screen was shattered, but it was still on, and as I looked at it, I saw three dots appear to let me know Morgan was replying. “She’s typing.”

Zulema swiveled to my side as we both stared at the fractured screen, waiting for her message. The dots blinked for almost a whole minute, disappeared, started for another few seconds, and then disappeared again.

They didn’t come back, and no message appeared. My heart sank.

“She’s not going to answer,” I murmured. I tapped rapidly on the screen to type out an apology for the insensitive way of starting a conversation, but my phone wasn’t reading the input. I’d fucking broken it. “No, no, no.” I tapped harder. Still, nothing. “SHIT.”

I waved my arm, intent on flinging my useless phone into my open locker, but Zulema caught my hand before I could release it. “Probably not going to help,” she said.

I dropped back onto the bench and buried my face in my hands with a groan. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Alright, look,” Zulema set my phone gently in the locker and sat beside me, “you said yourself that she might still be out of it. I bet she’s on painkillers, and probably really tired.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“So, give her a little more time to rest and process that you’re ready to talk.” She squeezed me around the shoulders. “It’s not the end of the world yet, okay?”

“I’ll do anything,” I whispered.

“I know,” she said, giving me another gentle hug. “And when you finally talk to her, you can make sure she knows that.”

I nodded, and Zulema patted my shoulder affectionately before standing up to finish getting ready for practice. I did the same, and went through the motions on the field while doing my best not to lose myself in worry about what Morgan was thinking. At least with the screen still on, I could see that she didn’t text me back, and by the time I got a new phone Friday morning, I was afraid to try again. 

I still had no idea exactly how to start, or if by not texting me back she was letting me know that she needed space. The one thing I thought I knew was that I couldn’t just text. I had to call her.

But the prospect of it had me anxious, and I’d already depleted the small amount of packing I had to keep me busy. The last thing I wanted to do then was sit in my dorm room, but I couldn’t leave for home yet because Zulema and I hadn’t exchanged Christmas gifts. It would be another two hours before she could swing by and get her present, so I decided that instead of being stagnant and letting my mind get carried away, I’d go for a run.

I changed into workout clothes and headed out, jogging in the direction of town rather than sticking to the trails around campus. It worked as well as it always did. The music kept me from fixating on the stupid text I’d sent and all the unknowns surrounding Morgan’s feelings. Worries about whether we’d ever be able to recover our relationship from this weren’t much more than fleeting thoughts after I reminded myself to focus on breathing and got lost in the music again. I ran for a good thirty minutes without venturing too far from school before I’d passed Fraternity Row and came to a stop outside of a diner. Morgan’s secret diner, where Pip made the best milkshakes in the world.

Once I stopped, I stood there for a minute with my hands on my hips, catching my breath as my eyes wandered around the inside. Pip normally worked the night shift, so when my eyes caught hers from inside, it scared me enough that my heart kicked into overdrive. I almost looked away out of embarrassment at being caught, but she waved for me to come in, so I took my earbuds out and paused the music, and I walked in.

She was too busy with the lunch crowd to come over and talk to me, but she gestured to the opposite end of the diner, and my eyes followed the motion and landed on Morgan’s mom. Daisy was sitting in a booth with an untouched sandwich and a cup of coffee, but my feet were planted. I’d barely ever talked to her, and for all I knew she didn’t really want to talk to me. But my eyes wandered from her back to Pip, and Pip’s head gave an encouraging nod toward the table. Seeing as I’d already been caught, I didn’t know what else to do. I wandered over and stood beside the table.

“Hi, Miss Daisy,” I said quietly.

She looked up and, while she appeared as tired as she always did, she gave a small smile when she recognized me. “Audrey, hi. Do you want to sit?”

“Um.” I glanced around awkwardly, but I was already there, and at that point it would’ve seemed ruder not to. “Okay.”

She was holding something small and shiny in one hand, and lifted her coffee cup to her lips with the other as I sat across from her. “How are you?” she asked, setting her cup back down.

“Fine,” I said with a tiny smile, even though I was twisting my earbud wire between my fingers under the table as an outlet for my discomfort. “I was just out for a run. I’m going home for the holidays today.”

“That’s good.” 

There were a few moments of silence before I realized it would be polite to ask, “How are you?”

“Okay,” she answered, but she hesitated and looked down at the shiny thing in her hand, and when she looked up and saw that I’d followed her gaze, she held it up with an embarrassed chuckle. “One day sober.”

It was a sobriety chip, and my next smile was genuine. “That’s great. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” she said lightly, but her face fell, and she stared down at her hands as she rubbed the chip with her thumb. She was pensive for a while before she sighed. “To be honest, Audrey, guilt about letting Morgan go cuts a little deeper without a drink.”

My brow furrowed, and I sat there long enough in stunned silence that she finally looked up at me curiously. “I don’t-” I cleared my throat. “Why would you feel guilty about that?”

“She never fought me about anything as hard as she fought to stay here,” she said. “If I’d gotten back on my feet instead of wasting time; got sober, got a job… I could’ve paid for school.” She blew a hard puff through her lips. “She wouldn’t be ignoring my phone calls.”

“It’s not all your fault.” My eyes dropped. I’d had no idea Morgan had fought so hard to stay, and all I’d done was panic and shut down. “I messed up too,” I whispered. “I got scared and pushed her away, but that’s not what I wanted.”

Daisy didn’t say anything at first, and I was too hurt and ashamed to look up at her, but eventually she took in a heavy breath. “She watched me hold on for a lot of years when I should’ve let go. She’s good at hiding it, but she’s so scared of ending up like her dad and me that she’s quick to let go, I’ve seen her do it. But she held on tighter to you than she ever did before.” I finally looked up at her, and she gave me a sad smile. “I don’t know what you said to her before she left… whatever it was, I guess you hit the eject button.”

“It was my turn to fight for her, and I didn’t.” I shrugged. “Now I don’t know what to say to convince her I’m ready. Or if it’s too late.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” she said, “it’s that you have to say what’s in your heart. Even the scary things. The not-so-pretty things.”

I nodded thoughtfully, and we sat there for another few moments in silence before I gestured toward the coin in her hand. “She’ll be proud of you, when you tell her.” She smiled her thanks, and I slid to the edge of the seat as I said, “I should get going.”

“It was nice to see you,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“You too.”

I stood and waved to Pip on my way out of the diner, and then I put my earbuds back in and jogged back to campus. There was just enough time before Zulema would come over for me to shower. So I grabbed my stuff and took it to the bathroom, got clean, and was rounding the corner back to my room at the same time as ZuZu was coming down the hall to it.

She passed over the gift bag she was holding when she reached me and said, “You’re not allowed to open it until Christmas.”

“But I can peek?” I teased.

She followed me into the room. “If you so much as shake that bag, I’m returning it to the store.”

“Fine.” I grabbed a wrapped present off my bed and gave it to her. “Then you can’t-” She shook it instantly, and I couldn’t help but laugh, “Are you serious right now?”

“Don’t worry,” she said with a grin, “I still have no idea what it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, you’re going to meet Rodney’s family for Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m actually a little nervous.”

“What? They’re going to love you.”

“I hope so.”

“If they don’t, they’re crazy.”

She smiled gratefully and glanced around at my packed suitcase. “You talk to Morgan yet?”

I shook my head. “I’m actually going to call her before I leave.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Do you want me to stick around for a bit? For emotional support?”

“No,” I said, slinging my arm around her shoulders and setting my head against hers. “Go be with your boyfriend. Tell him I say Merry Christmas.”

“Alright,” she turned to give me a proper hug. “Good luck. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I walked her to the door, and before closing it as she headed down the hall, I called, “Drive safe!”

“You too!”

She disappeared, and I turned to stare into my room for a minute in thought. I needed to build up the nerve to call Morgan, so instead of doing that right away, I busied myself with taking my duffel bag and suitcase out to my car. But other than my backpack, that was really all of my luggage. I’d have the same dorm room next semester, so I didn’t need to take everything I owned out of it. All that was left was my backpack with my laptop, and there wasn’t anything else standing in the way of that phone call.

Well, nothing but me. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but the longer I waited, the more time Morgan had to think that I really didn’t want to be with her.

So I grabbed my phone and sat down on my empty bed. I stared at it for several seconds, unlocked it, and stared at it again. I tapped on the phone and scrolled to Morgan’s name, and then stared some more. My heart was racing, and even though I’d had days to prepare, I still didn’t know what I wanted to say. But maybe hearing her voice and talking to her would help me figure it out.

Before I could lose the resolve, I clicked on her name and put the phone to my ear. It rang. And rang. And rang, with my heart beating harder every time, until it finally went to voicemail and my pulse was so heavy I thought I might choke.

“This is Morgan,” her voicemail said, “sorry I couldn’t answer. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you someday.”

A beep, and it took me several additional seconds to finally say, “Hey, it’s me.” Shit, what now? “I, uh,” her surgery, “I wanted to see how you were doing. I hope the surgery went okay, I… I know the text that I sent you the other day was… it was stupid. I didn’t know how to start, and I should’ve just asked how your surgery went but then I freaked out and dropped my phone and the screen broke so I couldn’t tell you that it was stupid and-”

And I realized I was rambling, so I stopped myself short to take a deep breath. And then another. And it helped. It was like all the racing my mind had been doing for over a week was finally culminating into something productive. It finally slowed in the clear kind of way that, for the first time, I thought I could say what I wanted to.

“When I got sent to voicemail, I was just going to say I was sorry, and ask you to call me back. But… that wouldn’t be good enough, would it? Because why would you even bother calling me back if I couldn’t prove to you that I was ready to fight for this? That I was ready to speak from the heart? So, here it is.”

I took another few moments to breathe. To steady the racing of my heart and the chronic fear that was rising in the pit of my stomach. And I swallowed it down.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” I said. “I never… I don’t take risks. I plan and organize and control so that I always know what to expect. But then you happened, and I fell for you hard and fast and it was so unexpected. And then, just when I let myself get comfortable, when I finally started letting myself expect things from us, you had to leave. I just… I was so afraid of losing what little control I thought I had that I panicked, and in trying to keep myself from getting hurt, I ended up hurting us both.”

I sniffled, and took another moment of pause to get control of the brimming tears.

“I was wrong about not being able to do this, because it doesn’t matter how far away you are. It doesn’t matter if I make stupid decisions with the idea that I’m protecting myself. None of it can change the fact that I’m in love with you. So, I’m saying sorry, and I’m promising that if you give me another chance then I will never let you down like this again. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. If that means being long distance for a year, I can do that. I’ll come visit during the summer. God, I’ll… I’ll move to Oregon after I graduate and stay there until you’re done. Or as long as you want me to stay, if that’s what it takes.

“Till then, I’m doing the most terrifying thing I can think of and giving up control. You don’t have to call me back. You don’t have to move back, or make any promises about us. Whatever happens, as much as this scares me, I trust you, and I’m ready to give you everything I have because-” I shut my eyes and took in a deep breath. “Because you’re it, Morgan… You’re endgame.”

I sighed, and a final few moments of silence passed while I thought about whether I needed to say anything else. But that was everything I had in my heart, and I ended the call without another word. I’d taken a risk, and all I could do was hope it’d be enough.