CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ms. relevant

"I already feel like I'm making things worse by just existing right now."

THE RUDE TO THE FACILITY felt longer than usual, despite Joe's playlist of Kid Cudi and Mac Miller offering a small distraction. I couldn't stop the hammering of my heart as Joe turned the engine of my car off. For a moment, neither of us moved.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice surprising steady, despite the strength in his grip on my knee.

"Nope," I sigh, sliding the strap of my purse up my shoulder. "But let's go."

He offered a reassuring nod as we stepped out of the car. Whether intentional or instinctive, the brush of his hand against mine was enough to keep me from completely panicking as we entered the facility.

It's hard to pretend we don't see or hear the reactions as we walk through the lobby. Ogling, impressed smirks with widened eyes and slightly agape mouths. I kept my eyes ahead as Joe navigated us down the hall. He didn't let on that he noticed, but I felt his subtle movements- his hand grazing my lower back, his shoulder brushing mine.

He dropped me off at the end of the hall, squeezing my hand once before forcing a smile. "I'll come by when practice is over, okay? Keep your head up today. Don't let them bother you."

I brush my bangs nervously, giving a thin-lipped smile. "I'll try." The blonde reaches out to press a quick kiss to my forehead. "Atta girl. Love you." The words still feel foreign on my lips as I reply, "Love you too."

I duck into my office as quickly as I can. I logged into my computer, the bye week having left me feeling out of routine. I click around, trying to force myself back into habit, but the morning drags on. The whispers never necessarily fade- they shift into something else, like soft murmurs. I tried to ignore the texts I didn't want to answer, but Simons' email hit my inbox.

"This is a professional workplace. I expect all focus to be on your tasks, not personal matters that are irrelevant to our success. Any further unprofessional behavior will be addressed immediately. I am highly disappointed."

I stare at the words, a strong mix of embarrassment and relief lapping over me like the shore of the ocean. The message was clear and it was loud, but even with the warning, I knew the damage was done. The same people I'd been working with for months, mostly friendly, all felt like strangers now. I was behind the glass, on display for their amusement.

As I was gathering my things for lunch, my office door swung open to reveal a red-cheeked Marren. "Hey, Mare," I say cautiously, tucking my chair in. "Are you on lunch? Please say yes. And if so, can we leave? Again, please say yes."

I nod. She grips her keys as I approach her, "Ugh, thank God."

"Why, what's up?" I ask, pulling my jacket tighter as I walk through the office quickly. "Because these freaks," she begins, making sure to annunciate the word loudly, "keep asking me about you and Joe. And I keep telling them I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't say anything to them! All up in other peoples biz."

I grimace as the cold wind wraps around us as we walk through the parking lot. I practically collapse into the passenger seat as she buckles up, cranking the heater up. "Seriously, though. Are you okay?"

The warmth of the heater does little to ease the tightness in my chest. "I'm fine," my reply is almost automatic and without thought. "You're not very convincing," she replies. "Don't give me that while spiel. Come on, Lua, you know I'm not gonna let this go."

The urge to wave her off is strong- I've made sure to prevent myself from unloading on Josh and Joe due to their own stress, but as the silence stretches on, the opportunity is too wavering.

"I just feel like I'm in the way," I finally spill. She clicks the blinker on to change lanes. "Joe and JJ both have full plates. I don't wanna weigh them down more, I already feel like I'm making things worse by just existing right now."

As heavy as the words are, it feels good to get it out. Marren's expression is serious as she glances at me quickly. "Talullah, you know that's not true, right?"

"I don't know, Mare." I keep my eyes on the road as I shrug. "Between the whispers and, Josh wanting to sue anyone who speaks our names, and then Joe-" I cut myself off, taking my lip between my teeth. Joe. This has been so hard on him and I don't know how to help him carry the burden.

"I asked how you're doing. Not Josh or Joe."

I blink, momentarily taken aback. "I... I just told you-"

"No," her voice is warm but edged enough to command attention. "You told me how they're doing. So I'm gonna ask again: how are you doing?"

The urge to deflect is strong, but there's something in her tone that makes it impossible to avoid her question. I know Warren would never let me get away with it regardless.

"I feel like I'm trying to not mess things up more," I answer slowly. "But it's so exhausting. There's just eyes on me at all time, waiting for me to trip up, and I just don't think I can keep holding myself together." The words tumble out. The girl in the drivers seat watches me for a second before reaching across the console to rest her hand on mine.

"You don't have to walk on eggshells, Talullah. You don't have to have it all together and you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That's not your job." I exhale sharply, but it comes out as a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, it feels like it."

Soon enough, we enter the restaurant and I glare at the menu as the brunette says, "It's not. They're just bored and lonely. They don't know you, Lua. You got people in your corner, even if you don't realize it. People who see and love you. We're here for you, girl. Your only job is to navigate this in a way that's healthy for not only your relationship with Joe but yourself, too."

There's a small flicker of relief on my chest- not enough to calm my mind, but enough to make it easier to breathe. I drown my sorrows in fruity tea and airy croissants as Marren complains about the ancient cameras they force her to work with, only pausing to take small bites of her chicken salad sandwich and to show me the fan-pages of Joe and I ran by 13-year-olds.

We keep the conversation light as we make our way back to our own offices, where she gave me a supportive shoulder squeeze and a faithful smile.

I shut the door before I sink into my seat and pull out my phone. It's a mistake- I know it is- but I can't stop myself. I open up Twitter- Joe's name is trending, as expected, but my own name displayed on the screen makes my stomach flip.

I'm pleasantly surprised- the first tweets I scroll through are nothing less than kind.

"She's living MY DREAM"

"idc idc, those pics of them kissing are soooo cute."

"stop they walked into work HOLDING HANDS??? and he KISSED HER HEAD? IM SCREAMING."

Kinda weird that people know that, but I keep scrolling.

"Never thought I'd see Joe Burrow dating a cheerleader, but I'm here for it tbh."

The tiniest flicker of relief sparks in my chest until I scroll further.

"another QB? tua, brock, nick, now Joe? jeez Louise."

I scoff- why do people think Brock and I have dated? We're literally related. The annoyance is quickly overshadowed by the knots in my stomach as I continue reading through the Tweets.

"Shes not even hiding it anymore, she's literally a football groupie."

"She's clearly got a type- tall, rich, and good at throwing things."

"poor Joe, bro is definitely getting used."

"They look so good together!"

I blink back a few tears, dropping my phone against my desk. Why do strangers have to care so much about my life? I rub my temples with a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. I push the device away, shaking my head as if I could physically shake away the thoughts. I pull the keyboard toward me, diverting my attention toward the work in front of me.

When the workday finally ends, I briskly walk through the hallway with my jacket pulled tightly around me. I can't pretend that the occasional stare and whispered remarks don't bother me, but I manage to keep my head high as I exit the office. Joe is still wrapping up, and while I'd usually wait for him to finish, I can't stomach the thought of waiting with curious eyes watching my every move.

The late afternoon sun is low in the sky as I step into the crisp Ohio air. A few players are scattered across the parking lot- their gazes linger a little too long but I ignore them to climb into my car.

The anxiety that's been sinking like a rock in my chest all day makes my stomach churn. I'm desperate for a distraction- anything to pull my mind away from the current situation. The only viable solution is obviously a sweet treat and a commentary essay YouTube video.

After paying, I sit in my car with my purchases: a chai latte, a slice of lemon and blueberry cake, and a cherry tart. The sugar does little to subdue to bitterness in my chest as the video fills the car speakers. I let two calls ring, one from Joe, one from Josh, as I stare at their names flashing across the screen. I can't deal with them right now, no matter how worried they are.

Halfway through the video and the white chocolate frosted cake slice, my phone rings again- this time it's Brock.

I debate ignoring him as well, but something tells me he won't give up. I sigh as I answer his call, "Hey, B."

"Tally, what is going on?" his voice is a mix of concern and irritation. I let the fork fall into the box as I lean into my seat. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, T, don't be like that." His voice drops slightly, "Nick has been running his mouth about you and Joe."

The cake suddenly churns in my stomach, making me wince as I close the box. "He's talking about you two dating, calling you a football groupie or whatever. You know how fast that kinda of crap spreads."

I roll my eyes, leaning my head against the cool window. "Of course he did," I spit, "because ruining my life once wasn't enough, right?"

"Tally," he warns, his voice soft. "Why didn't you tell me things were getting bad again? I would've-"

"Would've done what, Brock?" I ask bitterly, shaking my head even though he can't see me. He sighs heavily. "Look, I'm just trying to offer a shoulder, T. Nick's a jerk- he always will be. Whatever you got going on with Joe is you and Joe's business. If other people can't handle it, that's their problem."

I grip the steering wheel, any words I muter feeling too hollow to mean much. "I just don't know how to fix this, Brock."

"You don't fix anything," he insists. "Nothing's broken. This is nothing that you and Joe can't navigate. He's a smart guy and you can do basically anything you put your mind to."

His words do sink in, even though they sting. He senses my hesitation- "You do have a choice here, Tuls. You can let this ruin you or you can let it roll off. Take it from me, Mr. Irrelevant. It's all your choice."

I don't say anything- I pick up the box of cake and stab my fork into it. Brock sighs again at my silence. I know I'm frustrating him, because I'm frustrated with myself, but I just can't find the words and neither can he.

"I know you're going through it right now, so I'll let you go. Love you, T."

The call ends, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.