by Hannah Gray
I can’t help but notice the new clothes and new items that he never had before. If my heart wasn’t beating the way it does only for him, I’d swear we were perfect strangers who had never met.
“So”—I clear my throat awkwardly—“is it just you and chatterbox Knox who live here? Because I’ll be honest—this is bullshit. Our dorm room is a fraction of this size.”
He watches me, his eyes awakening every inch of my skin, making me somehow feel self-conscious at his gaze. “No, Weston lives here too.”
“The third guy from Lenny’s the night you came in and were a dick?”
“That’s the one,” he says back curtly.
“Where is he now?” I ask curiously.
He wasn’t at the movies either.
“Fuck if I know. He takes off sometimes and doesn’t say where he goes.” He walks over to the window, his voice low. “You want to go for a walk instead?” Cole says, leaning against the doorframe.
“You still can’t sit still for five minutes?” I tease him to lighten the mood before sitting down on his black leather couch.
“I mean, I guess I could. Or you could let me fuck you. Just for old times’ sake. Then, I wouldn’t have to sit still.” he bites back, the words holding some sort of anger and pain in them.
His words bring something inside of me to life that’s been dead since the day I had to leave. The ache for him grows inside of me. I think of how nice it would be to just feel close to him again. But I can’t just let him have sex with me. That would be pathetic. Wouldn’t it? Then again, it’s been a long time. I could use it too.
Jesus, I’m an idiot. A horny idiot. I need to get my shit together.
Reading my thoughts, he sits next to me. “Fine,” he says. “We can watch a movie. But first, we’re talking.”
At those words, I jump up and head toward the door. “A walk sounds good. Let’s walk.”
I know, eventually, we’re going to have to talk. But not yet. I’m not ready yet.
He gives me a satisfied grin and pushes himself to stand, following me out the door.
Once we’re outside, we start walking down the sidewalk. I don’t miss the other students walking by, all trying to get his attention. Guys nodding their chins up, fist bumps. Bitches pushing their titties up so far that I’m surprised they don’t strangle themselves. I roll my eyes. I miss when it was just him and me. I miss when he was my Storm and not everyone else’s. Now, he’s not mine at all. He belongs to this new world, where everyone wants to be his friend.
“You keep rolling your eyes, and they are going to get stuck like that,” he drawls. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
I sigh, nervously running my fingers through my hair. “You’re a big star now, Storm.” I put emphasis on his nickname. “Why are you wasting your time, hanging out with a nobody like me?”
“Why did you leave? Or are we going to just keep avoiding that?” he says, completely ignoring my question.
I look down at my feet. I can’t tell him the truth. Something about saying it out loud seems so impossible.
“I wanted more for you. I knew without me around, tying you down, you’d get your happily ever after. And a good family,” I lie through my teeth. Knowing each time that I don’t tell the truth, I’m only digging myself further into a grave. I hate lying to him. Up until now, we were always so honest with each other. “I didn’t want you to have to worry about me anymore. You deserve to live your own life. I know I’m dead weight,” I explain, glancing back up at his stormy-blue eyes. They swirl with so many emotions; it’s hard to even dissect what he’s really feeling right now, looking at me.
Getting an inch from my face, he narrows his eyes. “That wasn’t the fucking plan, Ally. The plan was to stay together as long as we could and then go to college in Texas. Together.”
“So, why not Texas? It’s still there. Why are you here? Did you know I’d be here?” Part of me hopes he’ll say yes. That he came here for me and only me.
A blanket of frustration covers his face. “I just decided to come here. Besides, it was you who went and fucked up everything. Tell me, for what, Ally? What was so important that you had to cut me off the way that you did?”
I shrug. Trying to play it off as nothing. “I told you, I … I wanted more for you.”
The home we were in wasn’t with the sweet foster parents that you might dream about. Though I’m sure they do exist, but I just wasn’t graced with them. We were in a home where they were at their max capacity for children allowed. Not because they loved children, but because each child they housed meant a bigger monthly check from the state coming to their mailbox. That’s how the system is though—broken. Technically, the court could have ruled that it was in Cole’s best interest to go with one of the many adoptive families that showed interest, but once he was a dick to the couples, they almost never came back.
Until the family he has now, apparently.
Then again, they are as slimy as our foster parents. After all, I know they offered cash just to be chosen to adopt Cole. I learned that the day I left Charlotte’s Falls. And I’m sure his athletic abilities played a huge role in their interest in him.
I can sing, and I can write lyrics, but my talent wasn’t broadcasted. So, to families looking to adopt, I was just a rebellious teenage girl, who already had a handful of angry tattoos. And that screams trouble to anybody. They could look at my file and read all about how fucked up my entire life had been. All of the times social workers came into my home and took me away from my mom, only to give me back a month later. That’s what happened though. She’d lose me, and she wouldn’t really care. But then she’d fight for me back, perhaps attend a few therapy sessions, proving she was doing well, and bam, I’d be back to living with the devil before sundown.
They’d also see notes from the school, showing how many absences I’d had. Absences from when I was just a kid, alone in my mom’s shitty, run-down trailer. She was either passed out from dope or on a bender for days at a time, forgetting completely that she had a young child at home. It was all there for them to see in that manila folder.
Once, when I was seven, I dared to walk to school alone one day. My mom hadn’t been home for a few days, and all I wanted was a hot meal at school. The hot meals that the other kids called gross.
My mom had been too fucked up to get groceries, much less make dinner. But as I headed to school, a walk I swore wouldn’t take me more than an hour, I got lost. Very fucking lost.
I remember wondering, If I don’t find the school, will I be lost forever?
I now understand how ludicrous that is. After all, the school would have eventually noticed I wasn’t there. But when you’re seven, you don’t think about things like that.
Eight hours later, I was found, passed out on a sidewalk. I had become so hungry and dehydrated that my body literally shut itself down.
Yeah, they got the chance to read all of those lovely notes. Who would read about how damaged a child was and say, Hey! Sign me up for that one? Nobody.
Cole’s file was just as sad and thick as mine was. But unlike me, he had football skills that college recruiters were traveling across the country to witness. It was easy to see that boy was going places. Me? I sang the national anthem at all the high school games, and that was about it. Who would want me?
As he eyes me cautiously, his jaw tenses. “Was your family worth it? The one you left me for?” He steps away from me and begins walking.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “It was. They were great,” I squeak.
Yeah, right. What family? There was never one. But I can’t tell him that. If he knew the truth, he would never look at me the same. We would never be the same. The shame I hold inside about the truth, it’s unbearable at times. I can’t burden Cole with that. He carries so much of his own shit.
He stops walking yet again and steps closer to me, grabbing my hand. He tilts my chin up with his thumb, his eyes burning into mine. “I know you’re hiding
something. And I promise you, I will find out what it is. I always do.”
I know he will. He has a way of finding everything.
Shaking my head softly, I keep my stoic face intact. “There’s nothing to find, Storm. Give it up.”
“To the rest of the world, you might have a poker face. A damn good one at that. But not to me, Ally. I can read you like a fucking book,” he says dryly, releasing my hand and pushing me away in the same movement.
“So, what about you?” I say, changing the subject, looking down at my feet. “How’s your new family? What are they like?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds before he starts to walk again. “They are fine. Better than Marion and Dave,” he answers honestly, referring to our foster parents.
“Wouldn’t take much.” I snort.
“I know they only adopted me because of football. But I figured, what the hell? I had nothing left anyway.”
That stings. I know he’s referring to how I walked out, leaving him with nothing. The truth is, without me doing that, he wouldn’t be in college, wouldn’t be driving that fancy truck, and he sure as shit wouldn’t have ever had a future in football. Everything I did, I did because I loved him. Correction: love him.
“Tell me more about them. What are their names? What do they do?”
“Jenn and Matt Hansom.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glances at me before continuing, “She’s a schoolteacher. He’s a coach. Wanted to play pro ball, but an injury took him out.”
“Football?” I ask.
He nods. “Yep. Now, I suppose he needs me to get him into the NFL world so that he can live vicariously through me or some shit.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, giving him a pointed look. “They could have wanted you for a lot of other reasons besides that arm of yours,” I tell him to make him feel better. Though I know it isn’t the truth.
“You’re different, Ally. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but something did. You barely look me in the eyes anymore when we talk.”
“You’re an idiot. I’m the same,” I say, shaking my head. I walk faster in front of him.
His large hands grip my waist, and he holds me in place. Fingertips digging into my skin, making me come alive at his touch.
“Cut the shit,” I hiss, attempting to get away from him. Though it would be so easy to melt at his feet in a damn puddle.
In this moment, I thank the dear Lord that the sun is going down and that hardly anyone is around campus.
Pulling my back against his chest, his mouth near my ear, he growls, causing my whole body to shiver, “Baby, you should know by now that pushing me away only makes me want you that much more.” I feel his hard erection press against my ass. “Feel that?” he says roughly. “That’s what you do to me when you act up. I’ve been patient with you, but my patience is wearing thin. Fast.”
Having him this close again—his scent in my nose, intoxicating my brain, and his hardness reminding me of all that I’ve missed—it would be so easy to just give it up to him right now and to fall back into our old ways. This man, he was my safe place, my best friend, and the one who helped me through my shit for such a long time. But I have secrets now, and I’m not the same girl I was when I left the Falls.
“Fuck off,” I hiss like a rabid cat.
Picking my feet up off of the pavement, he walks us between two buildings before setting me down.
Spinning around, I step into his space. “You cannot just fucking manhandle me anytime you damn well please! Goddamn it, Cole!”
With hooded eyes, he sneers with amusement. “Oh, I can, baby girl, and I will. I’d fuck you right against this building if I needed to.”
I control the shiver that runs up my spine. “I don’t give a shit if being campus royalty has gone to your head. You need to get out of here with this … this … big-dick energy,” I bark, jabbing him in the chest with my finger.
This only causes him to chuckle, which I find absolutely infuriating. “Allycat, you and I both know if I have big-dick energy, it is in fact because I have a big dick.” He tsks me. “And I’m certain that you remember just how big my di—”
Holding my hand up, I stop him before he can say any more filthy words that make my heart race. I swear if I hear him use dirty words anymore, I’ll end up having sex with him against this building.
A smirk creeps onto my face. I can’t help myself but to have a little fun with this. “Well, babe, I’ve seen bigger,” I lie.
He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with, but I’m still annoyed with the events at the movie theater, so I’m being childish.
His face instantly turns to stone, and his eyes darken to almost black. “Glad we parted when we did then. Since you clearly became nothing but a whore. Just like the rest of them.”
My palm connects with his cheek before I can stop myself. “Fuck you, asshole,” I say through gritted teeth, and my nostrils flare. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that. You might have forgotten that I don’t put up with that shit, so let me remind you real quick.” The anger flows through my veins. “I don’t give a fuck who you are on this campus. At the end of the day, under that uniform, you’re no better than I am. So, you can go ahead and fuck yourself.”
His grip tightens on my wrist for a few moments, and his fingertips dig into my skin. His chest heaves with anger, and his eyes are now damn near black.
Finally, he releases it, and I turn and walk—no, run back to my dorm. Only stopping long enough to text Sloane to let her know I left.
Things will never be the same between Cole Storms and me. We both hold on to vile things that go by the names of resentment, anger, and distrust.
He looks at me as the one person he had until he didn’t. He thinks I dropped him like an old, worn pair of shoes I no longer wanted. And I look at him as a painful reminder that nobody has ever protected me from the monsters that lurk. Even he couldn’t protect me, and for that, I’m fucking mad.
I don’t see how we could ever get over those feelings. Then again, I don’t know how we could ever get over the other feelings either. The ones that go by the names of love, passion, and desire. Because honestly, I just don’t see a universe existing where I don’t feel all of those things for Cole Storms.
And to be real, I don’t think I want to.
thirteen
Cole
“My man.” Weston slaps me on the back. “Nice fucking work out there.”
“You too, brother.” I grin.
Three games down, three games won. The season is looking promising, and our team is finally working like a well-oiled machine.
The first game started rough. The guys didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms. But I think Knox helped them see the bigger picture—our football careers. Once he reminded them of that, they finally got their fingers out of their asses and started working with me, not against me.
Ricky quit after the first game. And for that, I do feel bad. But he chose to walk out on his team, and that’s on him. If I ever got injured, he would have been the one to come in for me, and he deserted us. I lost a lot of respect for him because of that.
Sure, I can be a cocky motherfucker, no doubt. But I know without the team, I’d be nothing. The first game when the defensemen didn’t protect me was a prime example of that. We all need each other. It’s corny to say, but there really is no I in team.
The one good thing about Ricky quitting is, the rest of the team now treats me as one of them on and off the field. We need to bond in order to be the best. Whether it’s running together, eating meals together, or working out together, it all strengthens the crucial bond we need to have. And now that he’s out of the picture, they can kick it with me, guilt-free.
I turn the shower on as hot as it will go, and my aching muscles appreciate the scorching water as it pelts off of my skin. I love this game, but fuck, is it hard on the body.
I noticed Ally and her friend weren’t in their usual seats. Knox and the blonde chick, Sloa
ne, haven’t been spending much time together since a few weeks ago. The same night they came over for a movie and it ended with Ally running away from me. Good times.
And I haven’t seen or heard from Ally since then either.
Not that I can blame her. I called her a whore. The fuck was I thinking? I’m actually shocked she only slapped me. I fully expected a punch, possibly a knee to the nuts. I would have taken it too. I’m not the type to disrespect a woman by calling her names. But that’s what losing her has turned me into. A complete dick, apparently.
The old Ally, the one I knew before, she would have decked me without hesitation. But now, she’s timid. She doesn’t look at me the way she did back then either. Hell, she barely looks at me at all. I don’t understand it.
I know we will end up together. There is no other person on this earth that I want. And there is no other man in the world that I would ever allow her to get close to. Fuck that. She belongs with me. She’ll come back to me. I know she will.
I remember the day she showed up in Charlotte’s Falls. Long, dark hair with blue eyes—that, at the time, were almost too big for her face—scrawny-ass chicken legs, and a damn grungy AC/DC shirt. Oh, and bright blue Chucks that were definitely thrift-shop shoes. Yet she was the coolest twelve-year-old girl around town.
I had gone through my life completely numb. Until her. Once she came into my life, I laughed again, smiled again. Hell, even felt again. She was—and still is—the only person I ever spoke to about finding my dad, overdosed. She had found her mom the same way. Only worse for her, she’d found her mother on her birthday. In some tragic, fucked up way, it united us. No matter how poisonous and awful this world was, we had each other. Until she upped and left.
That’s what made it so much worse than your typical high school breakup. The other kids splitting up, they had family; they had friends. We had nobody outside of each other. Sure, kids at Charlotte’s Falls kissed my ass because I could throw a damn ball. But those kids were not my friends.