Page 6 of Your Play to Call
“Sounds like you need a distraction.” A small smirk reaches my lips.
Willow laughs. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Her hands are on her hips, and she puts weight on one of her legs.
An idea pops into my brain. My mom, publicist, and maybe even my coach probably won’t love it but I feel like I get a pass after winning a Super Bowl. Sometimes you go for it and ask for forgiveness later. If you’re me, you do thismostof the time.
“I can get them away from the door. Long enough for you to get to the car.”
I run back to the locker room and see exactly what I need: a bottle of unopened Champagne. Not just any bottle but a magnum. Perfect.
While jogging back to the end of the hallway, I'm smiling and love that I'm going to be able to help her out.
“What are you going to do?” She’s hesitant but inquisitive.
“Don’t worry about it.” I turn to the three security guards. “Can you get her out of here safely? You’ve done a piss poor job so far.” Willow grins behind them.
“Yes. We just need a little space to get her to the vehicle.”
I nod. “You better.”
“Now that is what I’m talking about!” The woman in black claps her hands and points at me.
“Be ready to run, okay?” I make eye contact with Willow. She trades her look of annoyance with one of determination and nods her head inunderstanding.
I take a deep breath and stretch my neck from side to side. I run my hands through my hair, messing it up and making it even more disheveled.
Before I open the door, I look at Willow a final time and give her a wink. I hope it makes me seem much more confident than I feel. If this doesn’t work, I’ll look like a major jackass.
The second the door opens, it’s nothing but flashes and clicks of cameras. People scream my name, trying to get me to look at them. I fake stumble out of the hallway, into the mob, and continue to move forward. They move away from the door, trying to see what I’m doing.
“Super Bowl champs, baby!” I scream as I pop the cork of the Champagne. It’s a mix of screaming fans and whooping paparazzi. They’re getting the shot they were hoping for: the drunk MVP overindulging and making a fool of himself.
As soon as I've moved the mob from the door, and I can feel the attention on me, I spray everyone with Champagne.
Just like I planned. Out of my peripheral vision, the door opens, and four figures run toward the car as I spray the rest of the magnum bottle. Someone yells about their equipment, but I act like the drunk football player who can’t control themselves.
And because I am stone-cold sober, I know they buy it.
The only thing I wish was different? Telling her my name.
Chapter 5
Willow
5 Months Later
No one has seen me for months, but strangely, it’s exactly what I needed.
After the Super Bowl performance and the final leg of my tour, Dexter and I couldn’t bounce back. The paparazzi, always a pain point in our relationship, were relentless afterward. They served as a reminder of him being in the dark—the secret I kept from him.
It hurt that this was the thing we couldn’t get past. One of my dreams coming true and the man I loved couldn't co-exist. How screwed up is that?
Did I tell him I thought we could end up happily ever after? That he was the only person I ever thought about marrying? That this was a bump, but we could get over it? No. I didn’t say anything like that.
At the end of the day, Dexter left me, on the day before my thirtieth birthday, and I let him. He packed up his things in our apartment in SoHo, and when he shut the door for the last time, I sat in the living room, silently crying, staring out the window at a day that was too bright for my mood. My heart broke open in our empty bedroom.
Part of me wishes I would’ve asked him to stay but the part being too scared to say the words won.
The press had a field day considering Dexter's departure from our apartment was far from graceful. Despite his aversion to the paparazzi, he didn't hold back, shouting about our breakup whilethey snapped photos.Another One Bites the Dust: Dexter Has Enough! Indie Musician Leaves Willow!was the first headline I saw, paired with a picture of Dexter, red-faced and annoyed.