*****
After breakfast in bed – and an altogether different kind of “breakfast in bed,” which left us both breathless and drenched with sweat, Wade and I showered and went out to buy some clothes. We walked hand in hand through the Miami streets, feeling great to be out in the open as a couple and not having to hide our relationship. We both knew, of course, that it was a fairytale, almost, and the thought that we'd have to go back to reality at the end of the day when we flew back to Tallahassee lingered constantly at the back of my mind.
Still, there was an agreement between us that we wouldn't speak about it, at least not until we were back. On this day, we were determined to live in the present.
We picked out a fresh outfit for Wade, which looked smoking hot on him, and which he changed into right away. He also picked up some swimming trunks. After having a light brunch, we headed out to one of the beaches and spent some time chatting and sunbathing on the white sand and swimming in the beautiful, blue water.
We finished at the beach in the middle of the afternoon and did some more strolling around before having a late, but very filling lunch at a Cajun restaurant. Our flight back to Tallahassee was in the early evening, so we did a little more sightseeing before heading to the airport.
All in all, it was a fantastic day, and we made the most of it. I couldn't speak for Wade, but for myself at least, I managed to keep the saddening thoughts of the future out of my head.
On the flight back, though, it was hard to keep up the illusion. Wade sat next to me on the airplane, holding my hand, but we didn't talk much. Behind his smile, I could see a deep sadness growing, a sadness that mirrored my own.
He dropped me off at my place and we had a long, lingering kiss before we said a quiet goodbye to each other. I got out of the car and watched him drive off, tears rolling down my cheeks.
It was time. I took out my phone and the card Wade had given me and dialed the number. A man with a gruff voice answered.
“Hello, Charlie Jefferson here,” he said.
“Hi Charlie, it's Eryn Barnett. From the Florida State University women's volleyball team. My coach spoke to me about your offer from Stanford.”
His tone changed immediately when he realized it was me. “Ah, Miss Barnett! I've been hoping to hear from you! You played one hell of a game. You've got real talent, kid, serious talent. And, Stanford will help you to develop that talent and take it as far as it can possibly go. You ready to hear our offer?”
“I am,” I replied.
He explained the benefits to me, and as everyone had told me, I knew it was an offer I'd be stupid to refuse. I just had one question to ask him.
“When would you like me to make the move to Stanford?”
“How soon can you? I can arrange everything in a couple of days. I know it's sudden, Miss Barnett, but Stanford is really trying to put together a killer team this season. We've lost two games and our current crop of players just isn't cutting it. We need fresh talent right now.”
I was taken aback at how soon that was. “That soon? How long can I wait? I'm not sure if I can do it that soon.”
“Uh, well I'm afraid we can't hold this place open for too long, even for someone as talented as yourself. Like I said, just give me the go-ahead and I can make everything happen within a week. If that's fine, please, tell me, and I'll make the arrangements.
“I'm sorry, but like I said, this is urgent. I know it's a big decision to make, and I'm not giving you much time to make it.”
“Can I call you back tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“All right, then. Have a good night, Mr. Jefferson.”
“You, too, Miss Barnett. It was a pleasure talking with you.”
I cut the call off and stared up at the night sky. It was all so overwhelming – but I also knew that drawing it out would only make it more painful. I took a deep breath, and then dialed his number again.
“Miss Barnett?” he said, sounding surprised as he answered the call.
“I'll take it,” I said. “I can leave in a week, if you can help me with that.”
It was almost as if I could hear him smile through the phone. “That's exactly what I was hoping to hear, Miss Barnett. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything.”
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You, too. I'll call you when everything has been arranged.”
I cut the call off, sat down on the curb, and started to cry.