I answer with a grin, “Hey.”
“Hey, I got time. What happened?”
“He’s a dick.”
“Yeah, I know that, but what happened?” she asks, and then I hear a door shut. She must have shut it to give us privacy.
I let out a breath and say, “Well, my agent called. I have four teams looking at me.”
“That’s amazing!” she squeals. “Which ones?”
I smile. “Kings, Rangers, Lightning, and Hawks.”
“Oooo, go with the Rangers. I love New York. But then again, I love LA too, and LA is close to Vegas! Maybe I can get a job there! Hmm. Chicago is great. So is Florida, the ocean. I love the ocean.”
I laugh, my heart hammering against my chest. “So you’ll come with me?”
“Well, duh! I can teach or open a studio anywhere! But we’ll worry about that in what, a couple months? When’s the draft?”
“June.”
She goes through the months out loud, and I assume she’s counting because then she says, “So nine months, yeah, we’ll worry about that then, but I love the ocean.”
“I don’t think you realize how happy you make me,” I say, my heart in my throat.
“Aw, Jude, I love you, and you make me happy, but we both know that,” she laughs. “What happened with your dad?”
My heart drops in my stomach, and I feel like I want to puke. I don’t even want to talk about him, but I know I need to get the words out of me and for her to reassure me. I don’t know why I need that. I’ve never needed reassurance before but with her, I do. “He first downplayed the fact that the teams want me.”
“Okay, he’s dumb, go on.”
I want to laugh, but instead I say, “And then he went on this spiel about how I’m not made to be with anyone, that I’m him and all this other bullshit. That you’re going to bring me down and hold me back. That being with you will ruin me.”
The line goes silent, and I wonder if she hung up. But when I check my phone, it displays the call is still connected. Clearing my throat, I say, “Claire?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Listen, I would never ever do that. I promise you, I won’t.”
“I know you won’t. That’s what I told him,” I say. “I just hate how he doesn’t believe in me.”
“He’s just a sad dude, Jude. I’m sorry, he’s a jerk. You don’t deserve that. Maybe you should call your mom, talk to her?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I don’t want to tell her what he said. It will hurt her feelings and she’ll worry about me and she doesn’t need that stress.”
“See, I just don’t get it. You’re such a good dude. You love your mom something crazy, and you care about people’s feelings, you know? Maybe that’s why he’s such a jerk ’cause he knows he can get to you. Ignore him. Just do you.”
I nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“It happens often,” she teases, and I smile. “So let’s change the subject. I have two minutes.” I laugh and she says, “Did you read Rachael’s status on Facebook?”
“You two are friends?”
“We have to be, I’m on the dance team.”
“Oh yeah. No, I’ve been napping.”
“Lucky ass, anyway, she put this long-ass status about how it’s hard to let go of someone and forget them when you have such great memories with them. And so some girl is like, girl, forget those people, if they don’t want you, they don’t deserve you. And she says, but he does deserve me, I just need him to realize that and get off the girl he’s with. I wanted to comment, but I know she did it to bother me.”
“Wow, that’s crazy. Facebook is a cesspool of drama.”