“Look, I should probably be going. She doesn’t want me here.”
“Stay,” Beau says quietly. “Emery’s cool.”
When I look up again, she’s gone. I scan the room and spot her standing with Kate, talking to a couple of guys I don’t recognize. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal for me, but she seems like she’s having a good time, and maybe she hasn’t been as affected by this crazy back and forth as I’ve let myself be.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Beau, but I don’t want to ruin the night. Maybe we can catch up next weekend after the game.”
He nods, giving me the green light to go. I walk out the door, careful not to let anyone stop me. I want to get out of here. It’s better that way … for both of us.
It’s like I’m on the football field—the score is tied—and there’s fifteen seconds left in the game. I have a choice of either letting my running back take the ball to run the clock out and go into overtime, or throw a Hail Mary from the fifty-yard line into the end zone. On the field, I’d always pick the Hail Mary.
This time, though, I picked the safe run.
I’m a coward, afraid of the risk. I should’ve walked up to Emery and apologized for being such a selfish ass, but instead I’m standing alone with my back against the fucking wall outside Beau’s apartment door. All that stands before me is worn brown carpet and marked up white walls … not at all how I pictured this night.
One of these days I’m going to have to man up and face her. Until I know what version of the truth I’m willing to give her, avoidance is my game.
As I start walking down the hall again, the door clicks behind me.
“Are you going to stop or just ignore me?” I immediately recognize the voice, but it’s the pissed off version.
If I were to hand the ball to my running back on this play, I’d simply walk out without even looking back at her. Now that she’s called me out, it’s not that easy.
Running my fingers through my hair, I ask, “What do you want me to do?”
“For one, you can stop ignoring me.” By the sound of her voice, I can tell she’s closer.
For the first time in a long time, I’m going to throw the long pass on the football field. As soon as I turn around, I get a glimpse of her angry brown eyes. I hate that I’m doing this to her. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t help more with the speech. This is who I am, Emery. I fuck things up.”
She steps closer, eyes of fury burning into me. “What the hell happened in the library the other day? Why did you just leave? Why haven’t you been to class all week? You can’t just check out without an explanation.”
All I can do is stare at her. She’s so fucking beautiful, but it’s not necessarily the kind that immediately captivates me. It’s the kind that grows more and more as I get to know her. It might be fucked up, but I think she’s even sexier when she’s pissed.
“Is that all you got, Drake? You’re just going to stare at me like an idiot? Well, fuck you, too.” I immediately miss the nearness of her body as she backs away from me.
“If you’re worried about Monday, don’t be. I’ll tell Professor McGill you did most of the project,” I say quietly as she moves farther away.
“This isn’t about the stupid project, and you know it.”
She begins to walk away again, but before she can get too far, I grab her arm and pull her back to my chest. “What is it about then, Emery?”
“You, Drake. I don’t let many people in, but I gave you a chance, and this is where it got me. I guess it just proves that I really shouldn’t trust anyone.” There’s a hint of tears to come in her voice, and I can’t hate myself any more than I do right now.
“What do you mean you gave me a chance?”
She shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “Honestly, I wanted to drop you as my partner that first day in class, but I thought I saw something. Every once in a while, you show me the human side of you. The one that seems to care.” She stops suddenly, covering her face with her hands. “Jesus, I even told you stuff about my mom.”
The raw emotion in her voice causes a painful tightness in my throat. “Please don’t … not over me,” I say soothingly. My lips betray the part of me that wants to keep my distance, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m not,” she answers, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. “Let me go, and we’ll just pretend that this, or the other day in the library, never happened.”
This is my chance to make it all go away, just like I wanted. I can let her go right now, and we can go our separate ways. But I can’t. For once, my heart is speaking so much fucking louder than my head. “Come with me.”
Her body tenses in my grip. “What?”
“I’m going to be honest. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I want. Just come with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, shaking her head.
“We might regret it tomorrow or a week from now, but right now, it’s all I want. Come with me.”
“I’m with Kate. I can’t just leave her.” Her eyes are trained on Beau’s door. I know what she’s thinking, but I’m not ready to let her go.
“She’s with Beau … she’ll be okay. Besides, were you having fun?” I know this isn’t her idea of a good time.
“I haven’t been here long enough to form an opinion. Maybe I should stay and find out.” She smiles.
“We’re just leaving a party together. I’m not asking for sex.”
Her smile falters slightly. “That’s great because the last thing I want to do is have sex with you … or take those tackling lessons you’ve been promising.” She stops for a few seconds, glancing down at her feet. “So what did you have in mind?”
Grabbing her hand, I lead her the rest of the way down the hall. “It’s a surprise. I’m going to show you how to live a little.”
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING getting into Drake’s car with him. Now, I’m at his mercy, going almost fifty miles an hour down a busy street. I had the best of intentions to stay away from him, but the minute I saw him, I lost my will. It was partially anger that pushed me to confront him, but it was also the part of me that wasn’t ready to let him walk out of my life so easily.
The last few days have honestly kind of sucked. He’s the one person besides Kate who I talk to on a regular basis. He’s the one person who’s gotten a glimpse of who I am when my nose isn’t stuck in a book.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.
“I think someone’s nervous, but it’s not me,” I reply as I cross my arms over my chest.
He laughs. “Are you saying you trust me?”
“Are you avoiding my question?”
He dares a glance in my direction, immediately locking eyes with me before turning his attention back to the road. “No, I’m not nervous. I’m just anxious to get where we’re going.”
A welcome silence occupies the rest of our trip across town. I mentally go through all the places he could be taking me. Pizza? Coffee? Movie? By the time he pulls onto campus, I’ve given up, resigned to go with the flow for once.
He parks in one of the lots next to Kinnick Stadium and turns off the engine. I stay still, waiting for him to give me further instruction as I look out at the dark night sky. When I can’t take it anymore, I glance over at him only to see someone who suddenly looks lost. I’ve seen that look before … every time I look in the mirror I see it.
“Drake?”
Closing his eyes, he lowers his chin to his chest. I’d give anything to know what’s going on in his head right now. “Let’s get out of this car,” he says without even looking my way.
“Okay,” I mumble, opening my door to follow him. This has been one strange night.
I stand back and watch as he opens the trunk and pulls out a worn fleece blanket and a flashlight. I have no idea what he has planned, but I hope he
realizes how chilly it’s getting outside.
He holds the items under his left arm and entwines his fingers on his free hand with mine. I’m hesitant, but it feels too good to let go. “Have you ever been out here before?”
“I’ve never been a big fan of football. No offense.”
“What’s not to like about football?” He unlocks a door on the side of the stadium and leads us down a dark hall with the flashlight lighting our path.
I follow close behind, afraid of tripping over something on the narrow pathway. “It’s more like, what is there to like?”
He laughs. I’ve heard it a few times now, and it’s a sound I’m really starting to like. “My goal is to get to you to a football game this season. Once you go, you’ll be hooked.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
He stops, looking straight at me. “I like a challenge. Plus, I have confidence in the quarterback’s skills to draw you in, and it’s considered part of your lesson.”
“The quarterback seems to have a lot riding on his shoulders,” I say honestly.
We continue down the dark hall until we reach another door. As soon as he opens it, the vast football field greets us, lit by a few lights above.
“Are we supposed to be out here?”
He shrugs, looking up to the blank scoreboard. “No one specifically said not to be.”
“If we get in trouble for this, I swear I’m going to—”
Placing a finger over my lips, he says, “Live a little. Besides, we’re just going to set this blanket in the middle of the field and enjoy the night sky. The lights go out in eight minutes.”
I open my mouth to tell him we should leave. It’s not worth the risk … neither of us can afford to get in any trouble. But I want to be here with him. I just have to decide if he’s worth the risk.
“What’s holding you back?” he asks, noticing my reluctance. His index finger rests under my chin, making it impossible to look away from him.
“I can’t afford to lose my scholarship.”
He removes his finger and breaks eye contact, grabbing my hand in his again. “You’re not going to get in any trouble. Let’s find a spot before it gets too dark.”
When we reach mid-field, he drops my hand and lays the blanket flat on the ground without uttering a word. I’d started to relax while walking across the field, but those doubts and worries are creeping back up again. Even when I was on my first date with Clay, I didn’t feel this way. And this isn’t even a date … I don’t know what this is.
He sits on one side of the blanket and pats the spot next to him. “I don’t bite.”
I smile in an attempt to ease the tension between us and take the spot beside him, careful not to get too close. “Do you come out here often?”
I feel him staring at me, but I continue to look at the empty bleachers behind the end zone. There’s nothing to see really, but it’s keeping my nerves in check.
“I do some of the maintenance work out here for some extra cash so between football and that, I guess you could say yes.”
And just like that, the lights flash off, leaving us alone with a better picture of the stars in the otherwise dark sky. I’m thankful the rain ended earlier because it’s giving us a perfect view.
“You know, when you asked me to leave with you, this is the last place I thought you would take me,” I admit, propping myself on my elbows.
He chuckles, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice him mimicking my position. “Where did you think I was going to take you? I’m just trying to score some originality points.”
Biting my lower lip, I turn to get a better look at him. “Mission accomplished.”
Sometimes quietness between two people can be awkward, but I’m finally getting to the point with Drake where it’s not as uncomfortable. Being with him actually relaxes me. Like when I’m with him, I’m free to think about other things besides my grades and how I’m going to write my research paper that’s not due for two more months. Even when we’re bickering, I’d rather be with him than most other places. It’s weird, and I know I’ve only known him for a short time, but there’s definitely something different about me when I’m with him.
“What are you thinking about over there?” he asks, resting his warm hand on top of mine. It sends those crazy butterflies loose again. The ones I’ve been feeling whenever I’m around him.
“How nice it is to do something besides study. Sometimes I overwhelm myself, you know?”
“I feel the same way. I stress out when I have a game but being out here now, like this, is one of the most relaxing things ever. I’m always working toward making the pros, and if I’m not throwing the football, I’m not any closer. School, work … it’s all necessary, but it’s not going to get me to where I’m going.”
I turn my head until I feel the worn flannel blanket against my cheek. He’s staring straight up at the dark sky, but I know he sees me from the corner of his eye. “I get what you’re saying. I wish I could skip undergrad and go straight to grad school.”
“What do you want to be when you grow up, Emery?” he asks, finally turning his eyes to me.
I swallow, feeling the empty pit in my stomach. Usually when I tell someone what I want to do with my life, they ask why. I have my manufactured answer, but I know that won’t work with Drake. And maybe, just maybe, if I extend a small branch to him, he’ll give one right back to me. “I want to be a child psychologist.”
The corners of his lips turn up. “So I’m lying with the future Dr. White? What makes you want to do that?”
His smile slips as he watches me struggle to form an answer. It shouldn’t be this hard after all this time but it is. “I want to help children who are hurting, especially the ones who no one else can reach. The ones who bury everything inside so deep that it takes a special person to help them find who they are again.”
“But why do you want to do it?” His voice is low and soothing, like he knows he’s about to get more from me than just an answer to a simple question.
Closing my eyes, I see that day. The day things changed.
My mom has had the old wooden jewelry box sitting on her dresser for as long as I can remember. If I tried to explain it to anyone, it wouldn’t do the box’s beauty justice, but the hand painted pink roses on the top are what draw me in. Pink’s my favorite color, and nothing beats the smell of my grandma’s rose garden. The old box makes me think of so many good things, but I don’t understand why she’s giving it to me today. I know how much she loves it.
It’s not my birthday, and Christmas is months away. The last couple days I haven’t listened to her as well as I should have, picking ripe tomatoes from the garden and sneaking away to eat them. I also snuck into her closet and made a huge mess as I tried on all her high heels. Maybe she’s giving it to me because she wants me to be better.
“Emery, baby, open it up,” she says softly.
I follow her instructions, afraid she’ll change her mind and ask for the box back. As I open it, the welcome smell of cedar hits my nose. Inside is a silver locket with roses etched into it. I recognize it as the one she said grandma gave her when she graduated from high school. She’s only told me the story ten times, and I’ve always hoped she would give it to me when I graduate high school. But I’m only four and that’s a long time away.
“Can I wear it?” I ask, running the cold metal between my fingers.
“Yes, I want you to have it.” A tear slips from her eye, but I didn’t think much of it, not then.
“Why?” I ask curiously.
She shakes her head, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “I don’t need it anymore, and I want you to have it.”
“Can I put it on?”
“Why don’t you leave it in there for now so you don’t lose it. Take it on up to your room. I’m going to go run some errands, but Beth is downstairs, and she’s going to watch you.” Beth’s in high school, but she stays with me a lot in the summer when my mom needs a break.
“Okay,” I say, wrapping my arms tightly around her neck. “Thank you, Mommy. I love it.”
“I love you, baby.” Her voice breaks, but at the age of four, things like that don’t send up many warning flags.
As I disappeared up the stairs, I didn’t think it would be the last time I’d see my mom in a long time.
I tell Drake everything. Maybe it’s because we’re tucked away in the dark, and I feel less exposed because he can’t see me. He’s quiet, and I’m grateful he lets me get everything out uninterrupted.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have your mom growing up,” he says when I’m done. His hand still rests on mine, squeezing it every now and then.
“You know, after a while, you learn to adapt. Sometimes I just wonder if I overcompensated.”
“In the end, I think things always work themselves out.”
A breeze blows through, sending a chill down my spine. “Did I tell you what was in the locket?”
He shakes his head, staring at me intently.
I reach my hand under my sweater and pull out the tiny silver heart. I’ve worn it around my neck every day since my mom left me. Opening it, I wait for him to find it with his flashlight. “It’s her. She put her picture inside.”
He studies it for a minute before looking back up to me. “You look a lot like her.”
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” I say, feeling the tears building in my eyes.
We sit silent for a while, me trying to recover from giving away so much of why I am who I am … and him … I think he’s coming to grips with the fact that I’m not perfect. Or my life hasn’t been anyway.
“Have you seen her since?” he asks, cutting through the silence.
I nod, not willing to go into any more detail. I’ve given him enough for one night. “What about you? Any secrets you’re hiding?”
He wets his lower lip before his eyes find me again. “Nothing I want to share.”
Looking away, I try hard to squash the regret I suddenly feel. I gave him more, so much more than I’ve given anyone, and he doesn’t want to share anything about himself. I passed the ball to him, and he doesn’t want to run with it. I guess I thought if he told me something, we’d be forever bound by our secrets.