Can you hear me screaming from across the nation?
You are so hot on the ice. I’m surprised you’re not melting it. :)
My screen pops up, a photo of me and Olivia that Sutton had taken of us together at Busch Gardens. Her arms are wrapped around my waist, mine around her shoulders, the fronts of our bodies pressed in tight. Our faces are turned toward the camera and my chin rests on top of her head. Both of our smiles are a mile wide, and it’s probably the best representation of what my relationship with Olivia has been like so far. Fun, thrilling, comforting, and natural. I’m discounting, of course, the parts that have been terrifying and stressful.
Hitting the text icon, I’m immediately dismayed to see no new messages from her. In fact, there’s been no response to the text I sent her just before the game. A quick Miss you text.
It’s unlike her to ignore a text from me. In fact, if anything, we’ve been voraciously texting each other during my entire trip out west, filling in the gaps when we couldn’t talk on the phone. A small flicker of unease settles in my stomach, and never once do I even consider that she’s purposely ignoring me. That’s not Olivia’s style.
Maybe she’s having a rough night. I mean, she had her second round of chemo just yesterday, so maybe she’s sick. I talked to her just this morning, though, and she said her nausea had been well controlled but that she was feeling more tired than normal. Maybe she fell asleep and just couldn’t stay up for the game.
I type out a quick text. Are you okay?
After I hit “send,” I set the phone down and start to get dressed, the general locker room chatter tuned out as I ponder if Olivia is feeling okay. While I’ve had my head in both games completely, the rest of my time I’ve been worrying. Though I know there’s not much I could do for her if I was there, and I know she’s well taken care of by her friends, it still chafes at me that my girlfriend has cancer and I’m not there by her side when she needs me the most.
“Something wrong, man?” Alex asks with a backhanded slap at my arm to get my attention.
I shoot him a quick glance and let my eyes drop back down to the buttons of my dress shirt. “Nah…I’m good.”
“You don’t look good. What’s with the worry face?”
Swiveling my head his way, I try to school my features. “Worry face?”
“Yeah…like this.” Alex scrunches his eyebrows inward and pulls his lips down into a frown. He looks ridiculous.
“You’re cracked in the head,” I tell him with a laugh that sounds completely flat even to my ears.
“Garrett,” Alex says seriously. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. Just worried that Olivia hasn’t texted me. Stupid right? I mean, I just talked to her this morning.”
“Not stupid, man,” Alex validates me. “She just had her treatment. Of course you’re going to be worried.”
I bite down on my lower lip, consider my options, then grab the phone. I dial Olivia’s cell number, but after four rings, it goes through to her voice mail. She doesn’t have a landline, so I do the only thing I can…leave a voice message and hope it doesn’t sound too desperate.
“Hey…it’s me. Just a little worried that I haven’t heard from you. Call me when you get this.”
I disconnect and stuff my phone in my pocket, pulling on my suit jacket and forgoing putting my tie back on.
Alex claps me on the shoulder and gives me a little shake. “I’m sure she’s fine. Come on…let’s get a beer down in the hotel bar when we get back and then we’ll get a good night’s sleep. Our plane leaves early tomorrow and you’ll be seeing her in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah, sure,” I agree with a halfhearted smile, and just then my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I pull it out, my stomach immediately settles when I see Olivia’s name.
“Hey,” I say as soon as I connect. “I was worried about you.”
I’m stunned when Stevie answers me in a tired voice. “Hey, Garrett…it’s Stevie.”
“What’s wrong?” I snap in a burst of fear. Because I know something is wrong if Olivia didn’t answer her phone. Alex’s head snaps toward me and his eyes narrow in concern.
“Listen…Olivia’s fine,” Stevie says hesitantly. “But she’s in the hospital.”
A stab of electrical fear punches through my chest and sucks the breath out of my lungs. I can’t even respond to him. My mouth opens and closes like a gasping fish out of water.