by Hughes, Maya
9
Seph
The old math building sheltered me in its musty, wood-and-stone-constructed embrace. I’d sleepwalked through my classes since racing out of the gym like death himself was after me. Every trace of chlorine had been washed out of my hair days ago, but it would take a while for me to live down the embarrassment of having my life flash before my eyes minutes after dipping my toes into the warm, cloudy pool.
The collective gawking of everyone crowded around me poolside had nearly set my skin on fire. I was a complete moron, an idiot for thinking Reece would be there for handholding. He felt bad for me and I’d roped him into helping me, but I needed to do this on my own. The genius label stung a little sharper when my lack of life skills smashed me over the head and almost drowned me in seconds.
I’d like to say I didn’t cry when I got back to the apartment, but the fat sloppy tears that soaked my pillow would call me a liar. Why did anything to do with other people outside of a classroom have to be so hard? Why hadn’t my parents taught me how to swim? Why had I let myself be so giddy at the thought of Reece teaching me how to swim? Why hadn’t I taken any precautions? Instead I’d jumped in headfirst and reaped the rewards for that act of exploration.
Never had I cursed my precise memory more. Each excruciating detail was vividly retained, from the moment I walked out of the changing room onto the blue and white tiled walkway around the pool to my gaze raking over Reece’s muscled and tanned body sitting poolside.
His gaze had landed on me and goose bumps broke out all over my body. There had been a glint in his eyes and then it was gone. I wanted to think I saw something there, but it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I wanted him to want me and have that same breathless feeling when our eyes connected, but that was wishful thinking.
There was a vivid replay of the second my head dropped under the water, the looks on everyone’s faces when I finally resurfaced, Reece’s frantic look when he dragged me out of the pool.
Their gazes had singed the hair on the back of my neck as I’d scrambled into the locker room.
“Ms. Alexander?”
My head snapped up. “Professor Huntsman, sorry. Could you repeat that?”
“This is highly unusual, but given your talents, I’ve cleared it with the head of the undergraduate faculties. Would you be interested in teaching a course over the summer? There’s a program we have for high school graduates starting in the fall. We could use someone like you.” Professor Huntsman’s kind eyes twinkled with the kind of caring you found in a mall Santa.
“Like me?” I jabbed my thumb into my sternum as my voice went up an octave.
The corner of his eyes crinkled even more, and his bright white eyebrows dipped low. “I’ve seen you in the review sessions with your classmates. You do a wonderful job of helping them, even in the sessions you’re not assigned to attend.” He laughed.
I ran my hands over the page of neatly printed notes in front of me. The sessions he was referring to were ones I’d hidden out in when I’d been kicked out of my apartment. Sitting in math class was a second home for me, and listening to things I’d learned back when I was ten didn’t bore me. It fascinated me to see how the professors explained the theories and to watch everyone around me as the pieces clicked into place. That spark in their eyes made it worthwhile, even more so if someone didn’t get it and I had to challenge my own way of thinking to help them grasp the concepts.
“I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’ll be here after the end of next semester.” Dropping my hands into my lap, I picked at my thumbnail.
He made a noise that sounded halfway between a choke and a bark.
“What do you mean? You’ve only just gotten here.” His face dropped like I’d just told him he’d missed the last flight to Aruba. I hated disappointing him. He’d bent over backward since I’d arrived to get me the exceptions I needed for some courses and to make sure I was settling in okay, and I wanted to stay.
“My father is speaking with Harvard now about them accepting me into their PhD program early.”
His eye bulged and he dropped his hand onto the desktop. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve kept things as they are for you because of how compelling your application was. You mentioned wanting to slow down and enjoy the college experience.” He shuffled papers around on his desk.
I shot forward in my seat. “I do. I definitely do, but I’m not sure I have much choice in the matter.” My chest tightened.
“My dear, you’re an adult. You always have a choice.” His kind eyes spoke volumes about how little he knew about my life. There were choices and then there were choices. I’d never been given too many of either, and it was a reflex to go along with what was asked—ha, I wish—what was demanded of me.
Our meeting ended with my promise that I’d think about completing my PhD there. Walking across campus, I checked the time. Why couldn’t I be one of those ballsy people who didn’t care what anyone thought? The kind of person who could stand in the middle of a crowded room and not want to run away? I just couldn’t, though. That would draw more attention to me. Sometimes I felt like an animal out in the forest who made themselves bigger to scare off predators. Better that than trying to fit in and finding out no one actually liked me for who I really was.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and a ball of dread curled in my stomach. My dad was the only one who called, and it seemed he had the ability to sense a hint of academic wavering from over five hundred miles away. I took a deep breath and tried to unfurl the growing knot in my gut. Doing a double take, I slid my finger across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Seph. It’s Graham. From the coffee shop.” His voice was higher, brighter, like he should work in a malt shop in the 50s.
“Yes, of course I remember.” I held my finger to my ear and stepped off the brick path, cutting across the leaf-covered ground.
“How are you?”
“I’m good—great. Just left a meeting in the math department.” I tucked my hand under my arm and pressed the phone into my ear. We’d exchanged numbers at the coffee shop. It was rude of me not to have called him back, especially after him being the only one to answer my ad. Reece swore only a psycho would, but Graham seemed far from a psycho. He was pretty straight-laced, much to my chagrin.
“So, you’re free right now.”
“Free for what?” The flicker of interest was there. Maybe I should choose Graham.
“There’s an exhibit at the art museum I’ve been meaning to get to—would you like to go?”
And the flicker was doused with a gallon of water. The dream scenario of him inviting me to ride on the back of his motorcycle or sneak into an abandoned warehouse for a rave shriveled and died. Still, it was either the museum with Graham or going back to my apartment. “The museum would be great.”
“Awesome, I’ll come pick you up.” He ended the call.
I pulled the phone back from my face and scared at the screen. Pick me up from where? Where did he think I was? A gentle tap on my shoulder stopped my confusion dead in its tracks. Turning around, I saw a grinning Graham staring back at me.
“I was leaving class.” He pointed behind him at the English building. “And I saw you walking.”
“You had me completely confused.”
“I thought it would be a nice surprise.” He smiled wide.
I waited for the butterflies to start their engines. It seemed they were shy, maybe still wrapped up in their cocoons. “Do you really want to go to the museum?”
“If you’re up for it.” He was sweet, nice—exactly the kind of guy I should probably be looking for, someone my own speed.
“Sure, let’s go.” So why did I feel like I was headed to a class field trip, not the closest thing I’d ever had to an actual date in my whole life. This was more of the same, but I followed him nonetheless.
We walked across campus, our shoulders bumping as we passed by others on the walkways. I tugged my hat down lower. The
red knitted addition to my wardrobe still felt like I was walking around with my hair on fire, but I figured I’d get used to it eventually.
“Do you know him?”
I followed Graham’s gaze and my eyes locked with Reece’s. Dropping mine back to the ground, I shoved my hands into my pockets and picked up my pace. “We’ve bumped into each other on campus before, but that’s about it.”
Graham caught up to me. “He’s staring you down like you stole something of his.”
“It must be the hat. It’s getting me a lot of attention.” Peering over my shoulder, I looked for Reece. He was at the center of a group of guys, probably his friends, or at least teammates. One of them threw their head back and laughed. The sound made its way all the way across the quad. Were they laughing about me?
“It’s a nice hat.” He peered over at me, his eyes soft and gentle. The perfect gentleman.
“Thanks.” We went to the museum then grabbed some sandwiches from the coffee shop on the way back to campus, and all I could do the entire time I was with him was think about how this was exactly like everything I’d always done. He was exactly the kind of guy I was expected to be with. He said all the right things, knew all the right information, but somehow when it came to sliding that last puzzle piece into place, it didn’t fit.
I was back to square one.
Friendless.
Dateless.
Sexless.
I opened the door to my apartment and was greeted by Alexa practically riding her boyfriend on the living room couch.
“You could knock.” She flipped her hair and spat the words over her shoulder.
“It’s only my apartment,” I said under my breath.
“Hey, Seph.” Dan waved over her shoulder as I trudged out of the room and down the hall into my room. How had a nice guy like him ended up with such an atomic bitch? I supposed that worked both ways—how had my mom ended up with my dad? Relationships changed people, it seemed. They could make people do crazy things they wouldn’t normally do and put up with things anyone on the outside would think they were insane for tolerating.
Closing my door, I spotted my case in the corner. I flicked open the latch and lifted the smooth wooden body out of the case. Turning the lock on my door, I went back to my bed and picked up my bow. The wood warmed to my touch, and the cool metal strings pressed against my fingers. My anxiety from the day and worry about what lay ahead fell to the back of my mind as I started to play, running across the corded metal.
Maybe it was because playing relaxed me.
Maybe it was because I loved playing, and maybe it was also because of how much Alexa hated it. I ran my bow back and forth, trying something new—my own spin on a song I’d heard in the coffee shop with Graham. Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” vibrated its way through my bones. I wanted someone to look at me the way he sang about, like there was no other place they could find peace but in my presence.
A sharp banging on the door brought a smile to my lips. Opening my eyes, I stared out the window of my room. Was it mean that I took pleasure in the volume of Alexa’s voice coming in from the hallway? Or the way Dan told her it sounded nice and to chill out? I was tired of being nice and quiet and small. I was tired of being me, and the only way to change that was to stop being afraid of what I wanted.
10
Reece
I ran into the end zone with the ball tucked under my arm. Dropping it, I waited for the call from the ref and walked toward the bench. A pileup of teammates slammed into me. The celebration dance that usually followed just wasn’t there for me. I jogged off the field and sat on the bench.
Home games were always deafening. Usually, it made every point that much sweeter, but tonight I had other things on my mind—the same thing that had been on my mind through the practices and weightlifting sessions. While I should have been focusing on studying and making sure my grades were where they needed to be, I was worried about a little fish who’d nearly drowned.
When I looked up, everyone was staring at me like I’d grown another head. “What?” I stared back at them. Grabbing my water bottle, I sprayed water into my mouth. I slammed my bottle down, and the ten pairs of eyes on me snapped back to the field.
The way Seph had grabbed hold of me as I’d helped her to the edge of the pool flashed through my mind. I could have killed her. When she’d said she’d studied it, I had thought she meant she couldn’t swim well or hadn’t swum in a while and wasn’t comfortable, not that she flat-out couldn’t keep herself above water. And, of course, she wouldn’t want to admit to something like that, revealing something she couldn’t do well.
Nearly a week later and I hadn’t heard from her. Was she busy with classes? Had she and Graham hooked up already? Maybe she didn’t even want to talk to me anymore, now that she’d gotten what she wanted from him. Maybe I couldn’t get her out of my mind because she’d walked away from me, or maybe it was because I’d mentally made her off limits and said that under no circumstances was I going to sleep with her, forbidden fruit or something.
All her pent-up stuffiness made me want to peel everything off her, undo her ridiculous braids, and let her go absolutely wild. There was a wild streak under there. I could tell. It was a smack you with a ruler and sit on your lap kind of thing. Just stop thinking about her. The seconds ticked down on the field.
“What’s up with you, man?” LJ sat beside me on the bench. He was riding the bench a lot these days.
“Stuff.”
“Stuff that’s got you distracted from the tenth win this season and pro scouts being in the stands.”
I turned around and looked up. Most of the times scouts just watched tapes. Very seldom did they come to games, but they were always easy to spot. Steely gazes and road warrior fatigue were dead giveaways.
“So they are.” My heart raced and my leg bounced up and down.
The clock hit zero and everyone was off the bench and onto the field, but I wasn’t the last one off this time. I headed back to the locker room after high-fiving Nix for getting us another win with killer passes. His dad had to be so proud that his son was almost certainly going to be a first-round draft pick. He was pretty much a lock. Mine hadn’t been to a game since I started playing in college.
Coach caught up to me in the tunnel. Tugging my pads off, I carried them off toward the locker room.
“I see the media consultant worked.” He clapped me on the back. “Great job not showboating out there. The pro scouts love that kind of stuff.”
Keeping my mouth shut, I nodded and rocked back on my heels.
“Let’s get to the press conference.” He clapped his hands on my shoulders and practically walked me into the room filled with camera flashes and a small pool of reporters. Their questions were the same that had been asked a million times. Usually that was a comfort—no one likes a curveball—but tonight I just wanted to get out of there.
* * *
Back at the house, things were in full swing. I barely made an appearance, heading straight up to my room. Keeping up appearances didn’t matter to me anymore. Their opinions of me were worth less than nothing. It was almost worse having everyone show up at the parties when they thought the accusations were true. If I were that big of an asshole, why would anyone even want to be around me? Football was the drug, and I was the celebrity syringe. They were ready to use me up and toss me aside as soon as my usefulness was gone.
Opening the door, I jumped, spotting the figure lounging on the couch shoved into the corner of my room. Even after a win, it seemed I wasn’t the only one who didn’t feel like partying.
“I knew we shouldn’t have made you the key master.” I flopped down onto the couch beside LJ.
“I come bearing beers.” He held out a frosty bottle. Condensation streaked down the side of the glass. “What’s up with you? You’re all gloomy and moody.”
“Am not.” I grabbed the beer from him, sloshing some onto my lap.
“Right, definitely not acting lik
e a moody chick.”
“I’m not moody. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Like nearly drowning that girl.”
Dragging my fingers through my hair, I took a gulp of beer. “She’s perfectly fine now. The game today was just more of the same. Nothing to get too excited about.”
“At least you got to play. Coach has it out for me with a vengeance.”
“What happened? You two were cool and you started nearly every game, but now he pulls you the second you sneeze wrong.”
He stared out my window, picking at the label on his beer. “He’s not a big fan of me right now.”
“I know, that’s why I said it. Did you run over his dog or something?”
“If only, but with him having it out for me, it looks like my chances at the pros are dwindling more and more with each game.”
“You’ve got tape from other seasons. Anyone can see what kind of player you are.”
He shrugged.
“Where’s your shadow?”
He lifted his head and his forehead crinkled. “Marisa? She’s hanging with her roommate tonight.”
“Aww, that’s sad. They didn’t invite you along to girls’ night? You’ll have to paint your nails all by yourself.”
“Har har har.”
My door flew open. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell the partygoers to leave but then Nix stormed in like he was ready to set the floor on fire. Kicking the door closed behind him, he yanked his hands out of his pockets. He paced in front of my dresser like he was trying to wear a groove in the floor. He’d left straight after the game to go to his dad’s place. His black shoes had a bright mirror polish, and the long black cashmere coat, black dress pants, and gloves he wore made him look like a guy in a magazine.
He unbuttoned the coat and chucked it straight at the floor.
“I take it dinner went well.”
His head snapped up and he glared at us. “If by ‘well’ you mean a train wreck, then yes, it went perfectly.”