Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(74)
“I know families are complicated and I’ve had it easy, but I’m struggling to understand why you don’t just say no and do what makes you happy. Why do you have to make sacrifices to please everyone?”
“Yeah, they ask a lot of me sometimes, but at least they always want me around. They say I hold everything together.”
“Even if it means sacrificing what you want to hold everything together?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “If everything falls apart because I rocked the boat, who’s going to notice if I fall overboard? Who’s there if I sink?”
I know how deeply Halle loves her family, and from the conversations I overhear they love her, too. I just wish she wasn’t weighed down by everyone else’s burdens. Conversations like this allow me to learn more about her, which I desperately want, but I can’t help but feel unqualified to hand out advice.
“I notice everything you do, Halle. And I bet I could sail a boat if I tried.”
She rolls to face me, our stomachs touching we’re that close in this gigantic bed. “You do say you’re good at everything.”
“And Russ is too responsible to let anyone not wear a life jacket. Aurora probably has enough money to buy the Coast Guard,” I say. “The guys trained to be lifeguards in high school to meet girls. Robbie would love bossing people around. You’re not sinking, Cap. I’m not letting you.”
“Despite what you think, you do always say the right thing, Henry.”
“Go to sleep; we can talk more about how great I am when you wake up.”
Halle leans forward and kisses me slowly. It’s soft and sweet, just like her. She rolls over and slides backward until her back is flat to my chest, and that’s when we learn there’s no hiding an erection in satin pajamas.
Chapter Twenty-Two HENRY
“WE’RE THINKING OF STARTING A podcast.”
We’re still up north after playing here this weekend, and after our loss earlier—our third in the past two weeks—we decided to brave Faulkner’s wrath and use our hour before we head back to Maple Hills to see JJ. I’ve been trying to drown out the constant noise of my teammates chatting in order to concentrate on an essay that my brain really doesn’t want to concentrate on, but hearing the word podcast come out of Mattie’s mouth is enough for me to lower my laptop screen.
“We want to call it The Frozen Three,” Kris adds.
Bobby nods. “It’ll be about hockey.”
JJ rubs his fingers against his temple. “Gentlemen, ask yourself this: are three more straight men with microphones what the world needs?”
The noise from the other patrons rumbles around us while Mattie, Kris, and Bobby deliberate over JJ’s question. As much as I want to be home in a dark room alone, I’m happy they’re all talking about the pros and cons of a podcast instead of my shitty performance.
They keep telling me it isn’t my fault, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m letting them all down. I don’t know how to fix it. Not only that, if I don’t finish this essay, then it won’t matter how hard I’ve been trying to be a good captain, because Faulkner will murder me if I get a bad grade.
Halle tried to make me work, but thinking about peeling her clothes off her makes it hard for me to concentrate on some boring essay about a topic I don’t care about. I just want to touch her constantly and it’s distracting, especially because she wants to be touched constantly.
My free time is filled with a lot of dry humping and jerking off in the shower right now. She hasn’t asked for anything more than that, so I figure she’s still doing whatever mental gymnastics she was doing last week.
The guys are still talking about a podcast when I get back to my laptop and that little flashing line is taunting me. I can’t fail this as well as failing at being captain in the space of a week. I just can’t. The more pressure I put on myself, the less I can concentrate on my screen; the guys are getting louder and louder, and it’s all getting too much.
By the time we’re pulling up in front of our house, I’m mentally done. Coach insisted I sit with him on the bus and talk and talk and talk. Even when Robbie tried to take over, I then had to listen to it. I was looking forward to being alone, but the universe has other plans for me and Halle’s car is parked outside of my house.
Companionship is a difficult thing to navigate when I feel overwhelmed. When I know that in all likelihood this person I care about and who cares about me is going to work hard to make me feel better, and with her patience and affection she might help. Of all the people in the world I would want to be waiting for me unexpectedly, she’s the one I’d pick.
But in the same reality, the idea of anyone being near me, existing in my space and wanting basic human interaction from me, feels like the heaviest weight I can’t survive.
Halle approaches me as I climb out of Russ’s truck, a glass container clutched tightly in her hands. I meet her halfway down the driveway to get out of Russ’s way while he grabs Robbie’s wheelchair from the back, and also because I’m not sure I want to invite her in.
“You look really exhausted,” she says softly, handing me the container filled with cookies. “I know you’re probably holding yourself to an unfairly high standard right now, and I know my opinion on the matter doesn’t really count, so I wanted to bring you something nice instead.”