Page 22 of Bet on Me

Besides, she wasn’t the only reason my midterms had sucked. Beckett had been a big, fat reason too.

  Although, if she hadn’t called, then things might not have gone down with Beckett quite like they did.

  Oh, good, I could blame her for this too.

  That felt better.

  Lie.

  That did not feel better. I had to call myself out on my own bullshit. I wanted to blame my mom for Beckett, because it was easier that way and I really thought it would make me feel better.

  Take away the guilt.

  But it didn’t. It wasn’t a strong enough argument. Everything with Beckett had fallen apart because of me. Because of what I’d done and decided.

  And maybe the snowball effect had started with my mom, but I was a big girl now. I was capable of making my own decisions and being my own person. Her actions and hurt and abandonment didn’t define me anymore. I’d been telling myself that for years.

  So then, why had I ended everything with Beckett?

  Was my dad right?

  Damn…I hated even thinking that.

  “I love you, Britte,” he told me. “More than anything. More than my life. So when I ask you to talk to your mother, I’m not asking for me. I’m not asking for her. I’m asking you to do this for you. Because I know you need it. Because I have watched you grow from an adorable toddler into a brilliant child, into a strong, capable, beautiful young woman who has the world at her fingertips. And I refuse to let that woman ruin what should be a damn good life for you, sweetheart.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hand, holding it between his tough, rough, calloused ones. “I know she hurt you. She did a number on both of us, didn’t she?” Tears fell down my cheeks when I nodded. “But that’s all she gets to do, okay? That’s the only time she gets to change our lives for the worse. Talk to her for you. Let her make amends for her, but you listen to her for you. I’m not asking you to let her back in your life or to trust her or try to get back that relationship she took from you all those years ago. I’m just asking you to face her and once again come out a better person.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” I whispered through choking sobs. “I don’t know if I can see her and not hate her even more or blame her for more. I don’t know that seeing her will make me a better person.”

  My dad pulled me forward and settled me on the couch next to him. His strong arm wrapped around my shoulders and he held me there like I was that little girl all over again, the one that had lost her mom and watched her world crumble.

  “You’re already a better person for just thinking about it, Britte. I don’t know anybody braver than you. Stronger than you. Don’t let her define you anymore. Clear the air and get yourself that beautiful life you’ve been working so hard for.”

  His words forced cries to rip out of me. He said more words and pulled me more fully into a hug, but I couldn’t hear him over my own sobbing.

  Only this time I wasn’t just crying for myself or for my mom, but for Beckett too. My dad had accused me of working for a beautiful life, but it felt like I was doing the opposite. I had exiled the beauty from my life in favor of a clean one…a clinical, neatly organized one.

  I didn’t want beautiful. I wanted easy.

  I didn’t want good and worthy and fulfilling.

  I wanted uncomplicated.

  And I suddenly hated myself for it. And I hated my brain even more for deciding it. My mind, this mind that had gotten me so far in life, that was going to take me even further and give me all those dreams I so desperately chased.

  All the while it chased away the things that made my life worth living…made all those dreams worth the pursuit.

  God, Beckett. What had I done?

  Eventually, I stopped crying for my dad’s sake. He took me out for dinner after I’d cleaned up and I told him about my midterm flops. He’d laughed and said, “Failure to you is success to the average person. I wouldn’t worry about it, baby girl. There will be more tests to ace. More opportunities to succeed. You’re going places, sweetheart. This is only a small part of the journey.”

  And I believed him. For the first time in my life, I let go of what I couldn’t change now and the perception of failure I had for myself and I trusted in the bigger picture.

  I trusted in my ability to do better next time.

  In my capacity to fix what I had broken.

  And heal what was wounded.

  In school.

  In life.

  And maybe even with Beckett.

  By the time he dropped me back at my apartment, I promised him that I would seriously consider calling my mom. He must have seen the truth in my eyes because he pulled me into a hug and told me he was proud of me. By the time he got back in his car and drove off toward Waupaca, I knew our relationship had at least been repaired.

  And that was a start.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Beckett

  I found Lennox in his office. He sat behind his desk looking obnoxiously perfect. The big windows behind him let in too much light, blinding my sleep deprived eyes with the aggressiveness of it.

  He looked up from his computer and frowned at me. “You look like shit.”

  “I feel like shit.”

  He gestured for me to come in and close the door behind me. His eyes narrowed with concern. “Are you sick?”

  I sat down in one of his leather visitor chairs and slouched back, resting my head on the back. I stared at the paneled ceiling and let out a deep sigh.

  Dread formed a pit in my stomach, and I decided how to say what I was about to say. There was part of me, the part that had dragged me into this office, that didn’t really care. My life had been stripped of something very important last week, and it had put a lot of things into perspective.

  Like me stressing about the coaching job and the internship.

  In my head, they were these epic decisions that would shape my life forever. In reality, they were small and insignificant compared to the grand scheme of things.

  There would be other internships. Other opportunities. Other problems for me to solve and paths to take.

  Right now I was going to do what I wanted to do. Follow my heart, so to speak. I wanted to coach. I wanted it more than I wanted any other thing. Save for one, but she wasn’t something I could change jobs or schools or futures for.

  I lifted my head and met Lennox’s gaze. “I quit.”

  His head tilted in confusion. “What?”

  “I quit. The internship. This,” I gestured around his office. “I quit this.”

  “You quit this?” he repeated. He wheeled his chair over so that he was seated more fully across from me. “You quit this internship?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  I sat up fully and folded my arms over my chest. “I’ve recently reevaluated my life and what I’m doing. I don’t want this job, Lennox. This isn’t for me. I don’t want to spend my life climbing the corporate ladder. I don’t want to wear expensive suits and worry about the shininess of my shoes. I don’t want to hate my job and be bored with my life. This isn’t for me. It will never be for me.”

  His jaw clenched, and I could tell he was angry. In essence, I’d just insulted his entire life, and that probably pissed him off. But it wasn’t about him.

  This was about me.

  And finally going after what I wanted in all aspects of my life.

  Well, except for one.

  Wasn’t it ironic, that I’d gone all in for Britte while I’d suffered through the rest of my life. Then, when she’d left me, I finally decided to get the rest of my shit together. Even though I no longer had her.

  Damn, I was an idiot.

  Lennox’s infuriated voice filled his office, reminding me of the scary person he could be when someone finally set him off. “So what are you going to do, Beckett? Float through grad school and then move home? You can’t live off Mom and Dad forever. Eventually, you have to grow up and be a man, take responsibility for something other than your prec
ious car.”

  “And my TV,” I added just to be an ass. “I also take responsibility for my TV.”

  “What the hell? I’m an idiot. I recommended you, asshole. How is this going to look for me? I stuck my neck out for you and you’re fine with just walking out on your responsibilities. I should have known better. I should have known this was going to end this way.”

  Now I was angry. “Listen, I’m not just giving up on this because I don’t like it. It’s too much right now. With my other job and grad school, I need to cut something out. And this is the thing I like the least. It’s not you. It’s me.”

  He stared at me, unbelieving that I’d just delivered that line to him. “Now I know what it’s like to be an undergrad. Your delivery needs help.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I growled, Britte immediately coming to mind.

  “What’s the other job?”

  “What?”

  He leaned forward and spoke slower. “What is the other job, Becks? You said you had another job, what is it?”

  “Coaching.”

  It was his turn to not understand. “What?”

  “Coaching. At La Crosse. Coach Benson approached me at the beginning of the year. I started the same week I started the internship. I thought I could manage both, but we’re heading into pre-season training and then during the season I’m going to be traveling a ton. I won’t be able to manage both.”

  “You’re like a water boy?”

  I ground my teeth at his flippant attitude. “No, you bastard, I’m one of the assistants. He’s grooming me for full-time pitching coach.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I’m serious!” I threw my hands up, exasperated. This was the other reason I had to quit. I couldn’t work with my idiot brother for another second. How had he gotten this far in the company? Didn’t they realize he was a complete moron? “Listen, it’s not a big deal now, but if I work at it and dedicate myself to it, it could be a big deal later. That’s what I’m counting on. So again, I’m sorry about the internship and all you did for me, but…”

  He held up his hand. “It’s fine. Why didn’t you just start with the coaching job? Or tell me about it when you got it? I would have understood. Hell, I would have even been happy for you.”

  That made me pause. “You would have?”

  “Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I have been? This is a dream job for you, Beckett. I don’t know why you wasted so much time here when you had that going on.”

  Fresh exasperation washed over me. “Because you got me the job! And this was what you and Grayson and dad expected of me! Grow up, Beckett. It’s time to be a real grown up now, Beckett. Put baseball to bed, Beckett. It’s over, Beckett.”

  Lennox rolled his eyes and laughed. “Yeah, we didn’t want you chasing the big leagues when you had so much potential everywhere else. Dude, come on. Coaching, especially a coaching job like this, isn’t doing that. That’s a grown up job, just like this one. That’s all we wanted. And for you to stop chasing girls and trying to drown yourself in alcohol. We wanted you to move on from college. You’re doing that. Why wouldn’t you think we’d be happy for you?”

  I rubbed a hand over my face and breathed through my nose. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Stupidity.”

  “Well, you are known for that.”

  I grunted.

  “You should call Dad,” Lennox encouraged. “He’ll be happy for you.” I gave him a look. “Really.”

  “Maybe.” I stood up and shoved my hands into my pockets, playing with my car keys on one side.

  Lennox’s face turned serious and he admitted, “Just so you know—if my tennis coach had offered me a chance to coach, I would have taken it without ever looking back. I’m kind of jealous of you, little brother. Don’t mess this up.”

  I cracked a grin because as much as Lennox irritated me, that was nice to hear. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Have you told Morrison you’re quitting yet?”

  “I wanted to let you know first. I didn’t want to risk you hearing it from someone else.”

  “Aw shucks,” Lennox chuckled. “Look at you making all these grown-up decisions. Our little Beckett is a big boy now.”

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  He grinned at me.

  “I’m going to Morrison next. How will he take it?”

  “Dude, you’re an unpaid intern. You’re a dime a dozen around her. But don’t let him give you the two weeks speech. You’re not getting paid, so just tell him you have to leave today if that’s what you want. I’ll write you whatever reference letter you need for the future. If you ever decide to step back into the corporate world.”

  “That’s a big if,” I laughed. “But I appreciate it.”

  He waved me off. “That’s what I do. I get you jobs so you can quit them and write letters of recommendation you’ll never need.”

  “Yeah, well if you ever need anything from me. Tickets. Merchandise. Pitching lessons. You just let me know. This goes both ways.”

  “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Thanks, dude.”

  “No problem, dude. Now go away. I have work to do.”

  I started to walk out of the office when he called after me, “And call Dad! He’ll want to know.”

  “Yes, sir,” I told him and then let the door close after me.

  I spent the next half hour talking to Lennox’s boss and officially resigning my position as an unpaid intern with the possibility of hiring in my future. When I walked out of the office, I felt better than I had in days.

  It was Wednesday, a week after the best night of my life. Unfortunately, the worst morning of my life had followed, but I was choosing to think positive thoughts today.

  No, that was a lie. But I did feel better about quitting the internship. And I believed Lennox. Maybe I hadn’t been giving my family enough credit. Maybe I’d been too hard on them or me.

  My parents had always wanted what was best for me. And this was best.

  Even if it took some time explaining, I was confident that I could eventually convince them to see it my way.

  I drove home, having a few hours to kill before I had to be at the school. My hours would change now that I didn’t need to divide my time, but today Coach still expected me at the normal time.

  My apartment didn’t hold that same sense of familiar comfort after Britte had hit it and quit it on me. She’d only been here once, but it was amazing how every stupid thing reminded me of her.

  There was this gaping pit in my chest that only seemed to grow wider…deeper…bigger. It felt like she’d kicked the heart right out of my center. Now I had this damn hole there that I couldn’t close or fix or heal.

  Damn, it had only been a week. This had to get better in the future, right? This would eventually stop hurting so much, right?

  Only I didn’t want it to stop hurting. I didn’t want to get over her. I just wanted her. I just needed her to stop being such a goddamn difficult woman and realize we’re right for each other.

  I had been playing over the possibilities of how to get her back in my head. She wasn’t invincible. I’d convinced her to go out with me once. I could probably do it again.

  But at the same time, I hated the idea of dragging my pride through the mud and begging her to give us a chance. I’d already done that. I’d already ignored my ego in pursuit of her.

  I couldn’t take anymore.

  Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

  She was a smart girl. She knew what she wanted. And that wasn’t me.

  It was time for me to come to terms with that.

  But holy shit, this sucked!

  And the worst part was that it tasted like my own medicine. How many girls had I done this to? Maybe not on this level. I’d never started anything seriously with them or given them any hope of a future together. But I’d broken hearts before. I’d disappointed girls and let them down.

  And maybe that’s all Britte
had done to me. She’d never promised me a future or a committed relationship. We’d never talked about getting serious or sharing a life together.

  I’d turned into the clingy one…the needy one. I’d realized I wanted all those things with her, and then she left me.

  I realized I was in love with this girl, that I’d fallen in love with her, just in time for her to call it quits.

  Just in case anyone was still confused, this sucked.

  I called my dad just to get my mind off of it…off of her. He answered on the third ring. I’d called his cell, but I realized he was still at work.

  “Well, hey there, Son,” he greeted happily. “This is a surprise to hear from you in the middle of the day. Or at all.”

  I swallowed down some embarrassment. The truth was I didn’t call my dad very often, or at all. If I called my parents at all, it was my mom. My dad called me usually twice a month to catch up outside of family dinners, but I wasn’t the most proactive communicator.

  “Hi, Dad, I just had something to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?”

  I heard movement on the other end of the line, and the door to his office close. “For you, I do. What’s up?”

  “I, uh, I know you’re really excited about that internship Lennox got me, but I wanted to let you know that I quit it today.”

  “Is everything okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned, and I instantly felt guilty for putting him through this. “Do you need help, Beckett? Can I do something?”

  “Well, the thing is, I got another job offer that felt more authentic to who I am.”

  He paused for a long time before he asked in a quiet voice, “And what’s that?”

  I launched into the story about the coaching job and how Coach had approached me. I explained that I had been trying to balance both jobs and grad school, but I didn’t see the point anymore. I didn’t want the corporate life. I wanted to be a coach.

  I wanted to spend my life coaching.

  He was silent for a long minute after I finished. I had to prompt him with, “Dad?”

  His voice came back surprisingly shaky, and I realized he was emotional. “I’m just proud of you, Son. I’m proud of all of you boys. And your sister too, I suppose. We didn’t have a clue what we were doing when we raised the four of you, but we just couldn’t be happier with how you turned out. Good for you for going after what you love. That’s something to be proud of, Beckett. I hope you know that.”