pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ THINK ABOUT IT „

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

"Little lady, I gotta tell ya something so you hear it from me first. I owe that to you."

Ted was frowning.

Ted was frowning, and Tate was going to throw up.

"Okay," Her voice sounded a million miles away as she sat down in Beard's empty desk chair, only the two of them present in the lower levels of Nelson Road Stadium. "I just—okay." 

"Now, I don't want you to think that this has anything to do with you, Tater Tot. Because I know you." Ted continued, not even coming close to making her feel better about whatever he was about to confess. Her mind was running wild, absolutely racing with ideas about what his next words were going to be. "And you're incredibly important to me, so I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you." 

Fuck, Tate was about to start sobbing, and Ted hadn't even said the words yet. 

"But I'm going back to America once the season ends." 

Tate's bottom lip was bleeding from how hard she was biting it, and the metallic taste of her blood was the only thing that kept her tethered to her body. 

"Why?" She asked, voice cracking on the single word as her tears started to fall, silently and rapidly, totally beyond her control. Ted was still frowning, and she couldn't find the barest trace of evidence that this was all some elaborate, horrible prank he was pulling on her. 

"Henry needs me, kid. I haven't been the best dad to him, lately, and that's something I need to fix." Ted's words were even, practiced, but she could tell how much they hurt him to say. And she knew it, knew Ted struggled with being so far from Henry, but part of her couldn't help but being selfish. 

"What if... what if I need you, too?" She didn't mean it in a way to suggest that he should forget about Henry, because she loved the kid, but she had come to depend upon Ted to fill the role of caring parent she never had growing up. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to continue on without his constant support.

"I will always be one phone call away." Ted told her solemnly, nothing but seriousness in his voice. Tate nodded, crying harder, and Ted stood from his chair to cross the room to where she sat, tugging her hand so she was on her feet and in his arms. "And you have the team. You'll be alright, little lady. I promise." 

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do to keep you here?" She mumbled through her tears, cheek pressed tight against his chest like she had when hugging him so many times before.

Ted stayed silent, because they both knew the answer already. 

And despite Ted's assurances, she knew she'd feel the ache of his loss for months. 

「☺ ☺ ☺ 」

"You're not supposed to start crying yet," 

"Sorry," Tate mumbled back to Trent, her arm linked through his as they sat in the stands at the edge of the pitch, watching as Will held up a boombox. "Can't help it." 

Originally, she was supposed to be on the pitch with the boys while they sang their song for Ted and Beard, but after the third secret practice she'd left crying, they'd unanimously decided she probably wouldn't be able to hold it together throughout the performance. Especially when they were standing in front of Ted and Beard. 

And they had been right, even with her in the stands. 

The boys were performing So Long, Farewell for the coaches, and Tate watched them move through the practiced dance with a somber grin and her head on Trent's shoulder. Her heart was aching, but her boys were doing a fantastic job, and Tate was just glad she couldn't see the look on Ted or Beard's faces from where she sat.