The students stood stock-still. A few of them cussed under their breath, and he heard what sounded like a back door opening. If someone was trying to slip out, he wanted to know.
Jim hurried through the crowd, grateful that no other players seemed to be at the party. But as he rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of the one player he had hoped wouldn’t be here. The kid who’d hung out at his house off and on since he was in grade school, the one Bailey had laughed with and grown up with and cared so much for. His tall frame was lunging toward the open door, and he had a beer in his hand.
“Tanner.” Jim didn’t grab the kid, didn’t chase after him.
And Tanner Williams, his quarterback, didn’t run. He stepped slowly back into the house and set the beer down on the nearest kitchen counter. He looked down for a moment, clearly embarrassed, devastated, though it was tough to tell whether his reaction was because he’d been caught or because he was truly sorry. Finally he looked up. “Coach . . .”
Jim held his gaze for several heartbeats. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am, Tanner.”
Tanner said nothing, not that he was sorry or that it was a mistake. Nothing at all. There, in that instant, as Jim dialed Tanner’s parents, he knew several things. First, the drinking trouble on his team wasn’t going to disappear because of one team meeting, the way he’d hoped. If Jack Spencer and Tanner Williams had chosen to drink tonight—even after seeing the video and signing their names to a contract—then they would be kicked off the team. Jim and Ryan had already decided that was the only recourse. Jim would take care of the details the first day back to school.
Worse maybe was something he’d seen in both his players’ eyes tonight—a subtle shading of an emotion he never would’ve expected from his star players. Not regret or sorrow or defeat.
But pure and utter indifference.
Sometime after eleven that night, Bryan took Bailey’s hand and casually walked her through the family room and kitchen toward the front door. He’d been trying all night to get her to take a walk, but she felt funny about leaving. Or maybe she felt funny about being alone with him. This was her family’s New Year’s Eve party, right? She should be inside with the group. Especially since most of the football team had shown up just after her dad left.
A dozen of her friends sat around their oversize coffee table in the family room playing Apples to Apples, and four more were gathered around one of the computers checking out everyone’s MySpace pages. Connor and a group of his friends were in the living room circled around the piano, and the Baxter men were holding a pool tournament with complicated rules, intense competition, and lots of loud laughter. Bailey’s mother was in the kitchen with most of the other women, making coffee and preparing trays of chocolate-chip cookies.
They passed her four younger brothers playing with Cody Coleman on a computer. Cody had improved so much in the past month. He was laughing with Shawn, pointing at something on the screen. As Bryan and Bailey passed by, Cody turned. His expression changed in as much time as it took for her to breathe in. For some reason, he didn’t approve of Bryan. He’d made that clear by his comments and tone of voice. Bailey made a note to ask him about it later.
“Maybe we should stay in.” Bailey stopped a few feet from the door. “It’s freezing out there.”
“I’ll keep you warm.” Bryan seemed determined. He grinned at her, and his voice sounded velvety. “Please, Bailey . . .”
She was about to think of a better reason why it made more sense to stay inside when her cell phone vibrated in her back jeans pocket. With her free hand, she pulled it out and flipped it open. It was a text message from Cody. She glanced up, but his back was to her, his attention given to the computer screen and her little brothers.
“Who’s it from?”
“Cody.” She met Bryan’s eyes. She didn’t like that he cared, but she had nothing to hide. She read the message. The guy’s a player, Bailey. Don’t go outside with him.
Bailey felt anger slice through her. How dare Cody tell her what to do when he had nearly killed himself drinking? She uttered a quiet huff as her fingers flew over the keypad in response. Like you’d care. . . . She added lol just so he wouldn’t think she was being mean. But she was mad all the same. Sure, her parents had warned her about Cody Coleman, and she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy she’d marry. But still. She’d always had a crush on him. And until now he’d never even acted like she was alive.
Well, it was too late. She erased Cody’s text and slipped her phone back into her pocket.
“What’d he say?” The teasing in Bryan’s voice was gone. Now he seemed frustrated, as if he was trying not to be angry.
“Nothing.” She would do whatever she wanted. Bailey and her mom hadn’t talked in forever because she was too busy helping Cody and praying with Cody and listening to Cody. He could go to the moon for all Bailey cared. And besides, Bryan was a much better Christian than Cody could hope to be.
Bailey smiled at Bryan and used her eyes and the angle of her head to chase away his grouchiness. “It is kinda hot in here.”
Bryan’s brow relaxed. A smile lifted the corners of his lips, and his eyes began to dance the way they had earlier tonight. He released her hand just long enough to grab her coat and scarf from the rack near the front door. “It’s not snowing. I already checked.”
“Good.” She allowed him to help slip her jacket over her shoulders. It was long and thick and made of wool, but even with it on—before they opened the door—Bailey felt a chill run down her arms. We should stay inside, she thought. Just because I’m mad at Cody doesn’t make it okay. Almost as an afterthought, as Bryan took her hand and they went out onto the porch, she silently directed her next thoughts to the Lord. Don’t let me get pressured into anything, okay, God?
Bailey sort of hoped He might give her an answer, but the only sound was the whipping wind through the trees along either side of the driveway. She pulled her coat tighter around her waist. “It’s colder than I thought.”
Bryan put his arm around her shoulders. He stayed close to her side as they walked down the steps and onto the circle drive. “I told you I’ll keep you warm. Trust me.”
Doubts flickered in her mind. Six inches of snow covered the ground, but the driveway was clear. They headed down the driveway, but tonight it seemed longer than usual. Much longer. Darker too. She stopped and gave him a nervous look. “We should go back. I didn’t tell my mom.”
He took her hands from her coat pockets and held them, running his gloved fingers over hers. “You’re scared.” His voice was kind and soft again. He sounded like the most trustworthy guy in the world. He looked deep into her eyes. “How come?”
“I don’t know.” Bailey felt her cheeks grow hot. “I feel guilty, I guess.”
“You’re still at home.” Bryan pulled her a few inches closer. She could smell the leather in his jacket. “It was hot in your house. Besides, out here in the moonlight I can see your eyes better, all the way to your heart.”
“Really?” His words warmed and calmed her. She felt her shoulders settle an inch or so. When he brought her a little closer, she didn’t fight it. She had nothing to worry about. He was right; they were still in her very own driveway. “How come you’re so nice?”
“I care about you. And I’ve missed you.” He released her hands and pulled her into a slow hug. “More than you know.”
A gust of wind came across the driveway, and he stroked her back. His arms around her didn’t feel suggestive or demanding—the way she’d seen some guys hug their girlfriends. “You’re making me feel warm.”
“I told you.” Bryan leaned back and smiled at her. Then, as if he didn’t have any other plans but to talk to her, he brought up CKT and how he wanted to study film in college. They talked about the rumors going around school that he liked half a dozen girls.
“All the girls are crazy about you.” Bailey nuzzled closer to him.
“And the guys are crazy about you.” He lo
oked back at the house. “Including Cody Coleman.”
“No.” Bailey was having fun. She didn’t want to talk about Cody. “He treats me like I’m his kid sister.”
A smoky look came into Bryan’s eyes. “You don’t look like a kid sister to me.”
The roller coaster feeling swirled her insides. What was he saying? And did he mean it the way it seemed? Was that a good thing? She swallowed. No words came to mind, so she kept her eyes on his, kept letting him look all the way into her heart. She was still lost in his eyes when he brought his face closer to hers.
“Bailey, can I tell you Happy New Year—” his face was so close now that she could feel his breath on her skin—“the way I want to tell you?”
Her heart was racing, and her throat was too dry to speak. Was he going to kiss her? Out here in the freezing cold on New Year’s Eve?
Before any more questions had time to flash in her head, Bryan did it. He brought his lips to hers. Bailey wasn’t sure what to do or even how to kiss. She wasn’t sure she was ready, but it didn’t matter. He was kissing her! He was kissing her and she was kissing him back, and even though she felt dizzy enough to fall over, the touch of his lips against hers was the most amazing feeling ever.
Fear and wonder and something like love mixed in her veins. So this was kissing! Her first kiss! This crazy, out-of-breath feeling . . . the heat in her face and the pounding in her heart. But was this what she wanted? Had she even told him it was okay to kiss her now?
Bailey eased away from him, and suddenly she felt angry at him and even angrier at herself. She wasn’t going out with Bryan Smythe, so how could she have kissed him?
A strange look colored Bryan’s eyes. He took her wrists, then moved in and pushed his mouth over hers. When she tried to break free, he wouldn’t let her, forcing the kiss to continue.
“Bryan!” Bailey took a big step back. She gulped in a mouthful of cold air, stunned, suddenly sick to her stomach. “What are you doing?” She took a few more steps. “Why would you do that?” She couldn’t draw a full breath. “You know I’m not like that!”
“Hey . . . I didn’t mean anything by it.” The lost-in-love look in his eyes from a moment ago was gone. Now Bryan was all confusion and innocence. He held up his hands. “I thought you liked it.” He laughed, but it sounded like he was making fun of her. “I wasn’t gonna make you do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“But you were!” She was practically shrieking at him. “I took a step back, and you walked up and kissed me without . . . without knowing if I even wanted to kiss you. I tried to get away, and you wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t let me.” She shook her head and moved farther away from him. “Everyone’s right about you. Those words you say aren’t close to the truth.”
She glared at him and whirled around. No way could she get in the house fast enough. The wind hit her sharp in the face, but the sting in her eyes wasn’t from the cold air. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered to herself.
He ran to catch up to her. “Bailey, you’re overreacting. I didn’t force anything on you.” He laughed, but it sounded more like he was afraid. They were walking faster now. “I’m serious. It was just sort of . . . you know, natural.”
Bailey stopped. “Go home!” Her arm shook as she pointed to his car. “I mean it—go home! I never should’ve come out here in the first place.”
“It’s ten minutes to New Year’s.” He tried another laugh. “You can’t just kick me out. I mean, come on. That’s acting like a kid sister big-time.”
Her anger cracked just enough to give her tears a way out. “Are you kidding me? I don’t care what time it is.” She backed up a few more steps. “You talk about God and faith and how important it is to you, and then you do . . . you do that?”
There was a sound behind her, and she turned around.
Cody stood in the doorway. “Bailey?”
She looked at Bryan one last time. Then without saying another word, she ran up the steps and past Cody. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, not when her heart was racing like this. She flew up the stairs, down the hallway, and into her room, shutting the door behind her and letting herself fall against the wall.
What had just happened?
In a single moment she’d gone from sharing her first kiss with Bryan Smythe to feeling like he would’ve forced more than a kiss if he could have. And now she felt cheap and used and lied to. He could see her eyes better in the moonlight? That wasn’t why he’d taken her out in the cold, not at all. But she had been stupid enough to believe him, and now what?
Her tears came harder, faster. She needed her mom, needed to fall into her arms and tell her every embarrassing detail. And she wanted her kiss back too. Her first kiss. She faced the wall and buried her face in the crook of her arm. God, why didn’t You warn me?
Then, with a rush of regret, the answer was as plain as the paint on her wall. The Lord had warned her. She’d felt funny about going outside from the moment Bryan suggested it. I’m sorry, God. . . . I’m so sorry. Forgive me for being so blind. You warned me, and I didn’t listen.
The room was quiet—no out-loud answer from God. But she’d meant what she said. She was sorry. She would take back everything about her time outside with Bryan if she could. He had made a fool of her. The rumors at school that he’d gotten physical with one of the girls must’ve been true. Otherwise why would he even try to force her like that? Her head was spinning, and even though she was sorry, she still felt dirty. Bailey pushed herself away from the wall and into her bathroom. Her lips felt hot, and in her mind they looked different. She looked different.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Mom . . .” She turned around, but it wasn’t her mother.
It was Cody. He froze and stared at her tearstained cheeks, concern written across his face. “Uh.” He looked like he wasn’t sure what to do, how to help her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just . . . no one but me saw you come up, and . . . what happened out there?”
Part of her wanted to order him out of her room. Okay, so he was right about Bryan. He didn’t need to rub it in. Besides, she wanted her mom or maybe just time alone to replay what had happened and etch it into her brain so nothing like it would ever happen again. But the look in Cody’s eyes caught her by surprise. There was no arrogance, no teasing whatsoever.
All the reasons Bailey had to be angry at Cody fell away. Even so, she couldn’t talk, couldn’t put into words what had just happened. More tears clouded her vision, and her nose was runny. She sniffed and lifted her shoulders a few times, trying to let him know that she was too upset to answer him.
“Come here.” Cody held out his arms.
She hugged him, and the feeling was entirely different from earlier, when she was in Bryan’s arms. Cody was only comforting her, the way Connor or her parents would have if they were here. But Bailey didn’t want them to know she was up here crying. Not when the party was still going strong downstairs.
Cody held her for a long moment, then led her to the sofa at the far wall of her bedroom next to the window. He kept his hand on her shoulder until she was seated, and then he took the spot beside her. He didn’t hold her hand or touch her arm, and he left some space between them. “Did he hurt you?”
“He . . .” Bailey couldn’t tell him the truth. She’d never be able to look Cody in the eyes again. She never should’ve let Bryan kiss her in the first place, but when he forced her . . . She remembered times when she and Cody had talked for a few minutes, and she’d teased him about the girls he’d kissed. “I couldn’t be like you, Cody,” she’d told him more than once. “Kissing any girl who comes along.”
But now look at her. Bryan wasn’t honest or trustworthy. She didn’t know him well enough to share her first kiss with him, but she’d done it anyway and she knew why. Because he’d told her everything she wanted to hear—about seeing her eyes better in the moonlight.
Bailey hung her head. No, she couldn’t tell Cody. “You were right.” A t
eardrop fell on her jeans. She scratched at it with her fingernail. “He’s not real.” She waited for the barrage of told-you-so’s, but it never came.
A sigh filled the room, and Cody crossed his arms. She could feel his anger rising. “If he tried something with you, I’ll leave right now and level the guy.” Fierce protectiveness filled Cody’s voice. He started to get up.
“No.” She lifted her head. “It was my fault. I never should’ve gone outside. You told me not to.”
Cody frowned. “I’ve heard about him.” His eyes grew soft again. “None of it good, Bailey.”
“I thought your text was just, like, you know, giving me a hard time.”
“You aren’t going to tell me what happened, are you?”
Before Bailey could answer, a loud burst of party horns and noisemakers came from downstairs. She could hear someone banging what sounded like pots and pans and other people hooting and howling. Above the noise she heard the deep voices of the football guys, shouting the way they did when they scored the winning touchdown.
Cody looked sad for her, but he smiled a little anyway. “Happy New Year, Bailey.”
“Happy New Year.” Her cheeks were dry now, and she slid her fingers beneath her eyes in case her mascara had run. When she checked her fingertips, they were smudged with black. “I must be a mess.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He slid a little closer and put his arm around her. “As long as you’re sure you’re okay.”
She sniffed again and nodded. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe him.”
“Some guys are like that.” Cody thought for a moment. “I guess maybe I used to be that way. Before . . .”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Bailey knew what he meant. Before the way he was living nearly killed him. “So . . . where’s your following tonight?” Neither Cody’s drinking nor his being sober did anything to change the number of interested girls.