Page 125 of Tell Me I'm Enough

She laughs for a second and then suddenly sits up, freaking out. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

Realization hits us both.

“I know,” I say, shaking my head.

She stands abruptly.

“I—I don’t know why I let you do that,” she says with a shake to her voice. “I—I need some air. I think I’m gonna go find Lani.”

“Sim—”

She turns back, grabbing her heels. “I’m sorry, Mase. I really am.”

Then she’s gone.

And I’m left sitting there, wondering how badly I just fucked up.

32

Mason

I haven’t spoken to Simone in almost a week, and it’s driving me insane. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts or calls since the night of the party. Which is fine. And not a big deal. And also feels like someone took a huge piece of me away that I’m now too aware of not being there.

I press my helmet down as I jog back to the huddle, sweat dripping down my neck.

Every sensation feels like too much today, and my head is anywherebuton the field. All I want to do is change out, head back to the house for a drink, and end this night early.

I wish the drinks I had before practice were still in my system. I probably wouldn’t care as much right now if they were.

Coach blows the whistle, and I jolt into motion. I know this route. I’ve run it a thousand times. But my head isn’t here. All I can hear is Simone’s laugh and the way her voice shook when she walked out on me.

The ball snaps out of the quarterback’s hand, and I break late just a fraction of a second…that’s all it takes.

I catch it.

And then I get absolutely rocked—shoulder pad to my ribs. Helmet to my chest. The kind of hit that rattles your teeth and makes everything go quiet from the impact.

I go down hard, landing face up, staring at the stadium lights.

“Sinclair!” Coach yells. “What the hell are you doing? Get your head out of your ass!”

My body throbs where I was hit, and I know I’m gonna be sore tomorrow from that one.

“You wanna get yourself killed out here?” he continues.

I push up onto my elbows, trying to focus.

“Wide receivers don’t get the luxury of spacing out,” he snaps. “You’re either locked in, or you’re a liability. Whatever’s got your head scrambled—fix it!”

Back in the locker room, I walk over to the bench after my shower—towel wrapped around my waist, ice pack pressed to my ribs. When I go to grab my clothes, I see my phone light up with a missed notification.

I grab it, and when I see Simone’s name pop up, my heart does a stupid, embarrassing flip. I can’t help but smile, feeling like her just talking to me again will make this whole shit-show of a day better.

But when I open it up and read the text, my heart drops right back down…anger replacing any happiness I just had.

Simone: I need you…

Simone: Fuck, Sinclair. Answer your phone