The Beautiful Truth

// 41

"This might be the cutest town I have ever seen," Micki exclaimed over breakfast at the Pontiac Moon Diner a few days later.

I laughed, although it was full of incredulous skepticism. "Wait, how would you know, you've only seen like, a mile's worth of it. Even if you had been conscious on the way back last night, it was dark as hell."

Micki rolled her eyes and shoveled another forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. "Whatever. This is so...America. I love it."

I looked at her with disbelief. "Where is Carson City? Mexico? Here all this time, I thought you were from Nevada."

She kicked me under the table. "You don't see it because you're from here, brat. Besides, Carson City is like, this weird conglomerate of strip malls and trashy casinos and brand new McMansions and rich skiers on vacation."

I shook my head and frowned at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, I don't know. It's this strange combo of plastic people tourists and Nevada's version of rednecks...like people who want to be Kit Carson. So what are we doing today?"

I shook my head again, trying to keep up with her scattered thoughts. "Well, I can call Jason and see if anything's going on, but I doubt it."

"Is this Jason...Mandrino? Like the Jason—"

"Oh brother, yes, same Jason," I groaned, interrupting her before she could bring up the details of everything I'd told her about him. "We're still friends...Friends," I added with emphasis.

Micki smiled to herself. "Sure. Is he still hot?"

I'd shown her his Facebook profile once. "He looks the same as he always did," I hedged.

She chuckled softly. "Just because you say another guy's hot doesn't mean you're cheating on Barton Black. You can appreciate the beauty of the world. Or point out the obvious."

"Right," I agreed, uncomfortable at the word cheating. Granted I hadn't ever cheated on Barton, but my confusion over Talyn of all people had left me feeling kind of strange. Wrong, even. I was trying desperately to forget it.

Granted, if I wanted to forget about Talyn and the Sugar Bowl, going to another football game three days later probably wasn't the best course of action. I found myself yelling at Chase Fallen a lot. He was nowhere near as good a player as Talyn. I was frustrated by the contrast. And I missed Talyn more than ever.

He hadn't actually called when he got back to LA. Just sent a text. I knew it was better that way. There's no telling what would have come out of my mouth if I'd had to talk to him. I figured he felt the same way. I was content to let it go until I saw him again.

"What's on your mind, Sawyer?" Micki asked, frowning as she put her fork down and folded her hands on the table, entering full therapist mode. She did this a lot, I'd noticed, but since Thanksgiving, I surmised that it was probably an effort to keep anybody else from doing the same to her.

I shrugged. "Nothing."

"Bullshit."

I looked up at her. "Talyn, OK?"

She looked genuinely surprised. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I saw the report," Micki forged ahead, my lack of explanation forcing her to make assumptions. "But it sounds like they're not interested in him. He's OK, right?"

I nodded. That wasn't why I was thinking about him, but I didn't want to get into that. "Yeah, but what's he gonna do now, not being able to play for a championship for two whole years? It sucks; it's not his fault...I just wish I could..."