by Hughes, Maya
“He’ll like you since you know nothing about football.”
His mom came to the front door and waved at us.
He let go of the steering wheel and climbed out of the car. I grabbed my bag off the floor and he jogged around the front of the vehicle, opening the door for me. “If she asks if you’re my girlfriend, just tell her—” He glanced over his shoulder. Turning back to me, he licked his lips, his breath coming out in small puffs. “Just tell her things are new and we’re not putting a label on it.” He stared up at the house.
“Sorry I made you bring me out here.”
“I invited you, remember? We’ll eat some food, my sister will make fun of me, Mom and Dad will try to hide their mini make-out sessions from everyone, and they will fail. That’s the basic rundown of how things will go. Be prepared.”
I nodded. Somehow this was scarier than all the other firsts: first family dinner. I’d been to math department mixers, even some small dinners at the professors’ houses, and I’d of course had dinner with my own parents, but that might as well have been with strangers for how much talking was done. Usually, it was my dad talking at me and telling me what I’d messed up that day.
This was something wholly different.
“Let’s go.” Reece held out his arm with the fishing rods in it and let me go first. His other hand settled on the small of my back, and the warm feelings that shot through my body seemed to deposit themselves right there in my cheeks. Our kiss on the dance floor had been better than I could have imagined.
It wasn’t my first. My first kiss was actually something I’d already done. No need to include that on my list. It had been at a museum overnight with other teens. I’d begged Mom to take me and she’d persuaded my dad to let us go.
Pretending I was going to check out the T-Rex skeleton, I’d snuck off with a boy who’d smiled at me every time I looked at him throughout the visit. I’d gone back to my sleeping bag wiping his slobber off my face.
Maybe I shouldn’t have counted that one.
“Seph, I’m so happy to meet you.” His mom wrapped her arms around me like we were friends reuniting. She rocked me back and forth before letting go and stepping back so we could enter the house.
The warmth inside wasn’t just from the heat. There were pictures lining the walls, and each child had a frame with eleven little oval cutouts surrounding one larger one. The small ovals were filled with their pictures at different ages, and the largest oval was from their high school graduation. Pictures covered every available space on the walls, laughter and happiness filling every corner.
“Take those to the utility room,” his mom said without even looking at him. She held my hands in hers. They were warm and soft and reminded me of my mom, but her gestures weren’t stifled and held back.
“You’re the first girl I’ve been able to convince Reece to bring home.”
“I don’t think he’s a bring girls home to Mom kind of guy.” I cringed. This was his mom—what was I saying? “I mean…” My mouth opened and closed, trying and failing to grasp at the words, any words to shove what I’d said back into my mouth.
“Oh yes, my son the ladies’ man. They can be like that until they find the right person.” She looked at me like I was that person.
“Honey, why is Reece in the garage with my rods?”
The deep baritone from behind me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He was going to be pissed. I braced myself.
He walked around me and put his hand around to the back of Reece’s mom’s neck. I cringed, my neck aching. Instead of tightening his grip, though, he gently brought her close and pressed his lips against the side of her head.
“You know Reece, always getting into trouble.” She smiled at him like there wasn’t anyone else in the world.
“And who is this?” His gaze turned to me. Instead of narrowing, his eyes were open and welcoming, just like Mary’s.
“I’m Persephone—Seph.” I stuck my hand out.
His enveloped mine and he covered it with his other one. “Nice to meet you, Seph. I’m John.” His hands were warm but rough, the calluses on his fingers and palms rubbing against my skin. He looked a lot like Reece with the same green eyes and dark hair.
“She’s Reece’s friend, who he took fishing.” Mary gave him a knowing look.
John let out a whistle. “Fishing, huh?”
She nodded.
“Well, that says a lot.” He looked from her to me. “What do you know about football, Seph?”
I crinkled my nose and ducked my head. “Not much. Sorry. Reece mentioned you played, but I can’t even pretend to know much about anything he says when it comes to football.”
“Don’t worry about it. Mary was the exact same way when I met her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her closer.
“You’ll pick it up through osmosis, whether you want to or not.” She laughed. “You’d better get into the kitchen. That pie isn’t going to bake itself.” She smacked John’s butt, not even the least bit covertly, and pushed him toward the kitchen. “He makes the most delicious fudge pie I’ve ever had in my life.” Her face beamed with pride and love as she said it.
I swallowed back the emotions squeezing my throat tight. Was this what families were supposed to be like? For some reason, it was easier to think that was only the case in TV shows and movies.
“Rods are done. What did I miss?” Reece came up from behind me. He glanced from his parents to me and his eyebrows crinkled. “What’s wrong?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder like his dad had done to his mom. His thumb ran along my arm, a comforting move that only made it worse. This was for six months at most. He was going off to the pros and had no interest in a girlfriend.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Your mom was just telling me about your dad’s fudge pie.” It felt like I was pushing the words out through a cocktail straw. I widened my smile and held my arm out in his parents’ direction.
“No one told me fudge pie was on the table.”
“If I’d known that was all it took to get you home, I’d have had your dad making them every week.” Mary and John disappeared into the kitchen.
Reece turned to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I waved him off. The front door opened and a figure the same height as Reece strode inside.
“Mom said to get my ass over here. I thought it was just because of the pie.” He pulled Reece into a big hug.
“Should have known she’d circle the wagons and call you in. Seph, this is my brother Ethan. Ethan, Seph.” He looped his arm around his brother’s shoulder and shook him.
Ethan held out his hand to me, but the gesture didn’t cover the surprise in his eyes. Beneath the hat he wore, his eyes glanced from me to Reece and back. “Nice to meet you, Seph.”
We hung out in the living room. I tried to offer my help in the kitchen, but that was quickly shut down by Reece’s parents. His sister did ask me about the braids, and I tried to show her as best as I could. It felt weird doing it for someone else, kind of how I’d imagined it would be doing it for a little sister.
We all sat down to eat and the meal was the best home-cooked food I’d had in a long time.
Reaching over to hand the pie dish to his sister, my hand knocked against a glass of wine. The fall was in slow motion, at least in my mind. The red liquid sloshed out, spreading all over the white tablecloth.
My stomach dropped and I jumped up, knocking my chair over. Grabbing my napkin, I dabbed at the spill. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I repeated the words over and over again as dread clawed at my gut.
The time I’d knocked over a glass of wine and it had shattered on the floor at my parents’ house, I’d been berated for a solid hour with my dad nearly pushing my face into the spill like a disobedient animal and made to feel like I’d never be able to do anything right.
Even though I picked up the glass and rubbed at the spill, the spot kept growing, and the prickles of tears itched my eyes.
“If you have some club soda, I can get it out. I’ll get it out, I swear.”
No one had moved. Everyone sat still, staring at me.
I flinched when Reece covered my hand with his. It slid up to my arm and he forced me to stop my frantic attempt at cleaning. “Seph, it’s okay. Stop.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. Concern settled deep in his eyes. I glanced around the table at everyone else.
“Honey, it’s okay. Nothing to worry about. This thing has been bleached to hell and back—I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart by now. Really, don’t worry about it.” His mom’s kind smile nearly broke me.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I tried to shove the humiliation down. Reece righted my chair.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” I bolted from the table and out into the bathroom in the hallway, though what I really wanted to do was dash out the front door.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I dropped my head, resting my hands on the side of the sink. There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Seph, it’s me.” Reece’s voice filtered through the wood.
I cracked the door open. “I’m so sorry. Tell your parents I’ll get the tablecloth cleaned or replace it, and that I’m so sorry for ruining dinner.” The edge of hysteria I’d beaten back by running cold water over my wrists was back with a vengeance and might have brought along a few friends. “Are they really upset?”
He pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it behind him. Wrapping his hands around my arms, he held me close. “I’m telling you, don’t freak out. No one cares at all.”
I rested my head against his chest. He smelled like nutmeg and chocolate, like Christmas, like the kind of holiday I’d always hoped to have. Laughter came from the other side of the door. My muscles tensed. I’d nearly lost it—hell, I could safely say I had lost it. His family must have thought I was insane.
“They aren’t laughing at you. They’re probably laughing at Ethan’s new haircut. He’s been wearing that hat for a reason.”
Letting go of him, I chewed on my bottom lip.
“Take as long as you need in here. Come out when you’re ready, but just know they’ll all be talking about you while you’re in here and wondering just what kind of bowel issues you have that have you stuck in here for this long.” He grinned and darted out the door.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I gave myself the best pep talk I could under the circumstances. “Maybe a stray meteor will take you out on the way back out there.” Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked back out to the kitchen, slowly enough that an unforeseen astrological event could put me out of my misery. Sadly, I made it to the dining room fully intact.
When I got there, everyone was finishing up their pie. Reece helped his brother gather plates and walked them into the kitchen. I hung back in the doorway.
“Seph, we saved you a piece of pie.” Mary waved me over and patted the seat beside her.
“You didn’t have to do that.” I rounded the table.
“Of course I did. John’s pie is something no one should miss out on.” She leaned in close like this was a secret between us, a secret between friends. “How do you think he got me to go out with him?”
I sat beside her and took my first bite of the pie. The deep rich chocolate flavor made me feel like I was doing laps in a giant mug of hot chocolate.
“Now can you see why I married him?”
“Right? Who could turn down a pie like that?”
Reece came out with a glass of milk. “It makes it even better.” Our fingers brushed against each other when he passed me the glass, and he didn’t pull back this time. He didn’t jerk his hand away and put that distance between us. All the looks and touches I’d tried to keep myself from thinking too deeply about all came rushing forward at once.
I’d fallen into something I couldn’t describe. The thing I thought could be explained away by science and biochemistry had blindsided me. It was a chemical reaction. My body was taking all these new experiences and attaching crazy levels of hormones to them, making me feel like this. Chemical reactions or not, I couldn’t get Reece Michaels out of my head.
17
Reece
The roar of the crowd was a distant memory by the time I walked down the tunnel toward the jam-packed locker room. My hands still stung from that last catch of the game. Nix had a hell of an arm. He’d bombed it from nearly sixty yards away, and the heat on it had made my hands itch.
Everyone laughed and cheered at another kickass win in our column, their voices bouncing off the cinderblock and concrete tunnel. Fans snuck into the area and stopped guys for pictures. Flashes went off as twenty people held up their phones. I hung back. The big smiles, excitement radiating from every person around me—I was usually right in the center of it, but today I stepped back.
We were closer than any team had been to the national championship in almost ten seasons, but that wasn’t the stat that had made it hard to sleep for the past few nights.
Seph had to be at her apartment by now. She’d said she’d watch the game, but that didn’t mean she was above saying it just to make me feel better or had any idea what had gone on. There were only two games left in the season. I wanted her up in the stands watching me on the field.
I wanted her to see me out at the fifty-yard line with thousands of fans’ eyes on me, killing it and running through defenders like they were cardboard cutouts. A small part of me wanted her to be proud. Anyone who spoke to her could tell within about a minute she wasn’t like anyone else. Her mind worked in mysterious and brilliant ways, although she was shit at playing pool. I didn’t want her to think I was just another dumb jock.
It was a stupid thing to worry about. Us seeing each other was about her list. Things I took for granted, she relished and stared at with wide-eyed excitement. Watching her conquer her fears, taking that deep breath before she went for it made me look at it all in a different way.
At this point, I was probably looking forward to some of her firsts because I couldn’t wait to see how she’d react. It wasn’t been there, done that with her, because she hadn’t. These were more than checkmarks on a list and going through the motions.
She would always be someone with a special place in my heart—that is, in my memories. The ticking countdown hanging over our heads made each first even more special. It made me want to make them special so she wouldn’t forget about me.
Tonight, another line on her list was getting checked off, one I wasn’t sure I was prepared for. I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, shaking my hands, trying to will the nerves away.
“Where are you going?” Coach called out from behind me.
“To change?” My hand wrapped around the door handle.
“We’ve got a press conference to get to.”
The plans I’d put in motion were finally ready. My stomach tightened and I wanted to fast-forward the next hour between now and when I’d knocked on her door. Tonight would change everything, but this was what I needed to do. I’d been fighting what was building between us for so long, and I couldn’t do it anymore.
I could do this for her, mainly because the thought of someone else being her first made me want to break something, but what happened after that? I shook my head; I’d worry about that later.
“Can you do this one without me?” My gaze darted toward the closing locker room door.
Coach looked at me like I’d asked if he’d punch me in the dick.
“After that catch? You’re out of your mind. Every opportunity in front of the press is another chance to help you get drafted and to help build up Fulton’s name. Get your ass in there.” He placed his hand firmly in the center of my back and gave me a small shove. Pushy old bastard. He was right, though. Taking my spot in front of the cameras to show that I wasn’t the fuckup everyone had tried to paint me as at the end of last season, to show that I could be a team player was an increase in my draft pick number.<
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Sitting in front of the reporters, my leg bounced up and down under the table. It was standing room only in the press conference. That was what happened when you were only a few games away from the national championship. Cameras lined the back wall. Reporters with press passes hanging around their necks held notepads or tablets in their hands. All eyes were focused on us up behind the table at the front dotted with microphones.
Nix looked over at me with his eyebrows drawn down. His gaze dropped to my hands on my thighs, squeezing them to give me patience to get through this thing. Nix had thrown the ball. I’d caught it. The end.
The last question was answered and I jumped up from my chair, nearly knocking it over. I stuck it back under the table and headed into the locker room, pulling off my shirt before I even got all the way inside. Grabbing a towel, I didn’t stop until I stepped under the warm spray of the shower, setting a new speed record for the quickest one known to man.
Back out at my locker, I tied up my sneakers and sat on the bench, waiting for Nix. Checking the time, I packed up everything else in my bag. Nix strolled out of the shower a couple minutes later.
“Why are you so happy?” Berk stared at Nix, his face a mask of suspicion.
The sharp snap of the towel flew in front of my face.
“We just won a game—isn’t that enough?”
“You always look the same, win or lose, like you’re paying off a debt or something being out there, but you’re all smiley lately.”
I didn’t have time for this; I’d figure out whatever the hell was going on with Nix later.
“What’s the big rush?” Berk stared at me with big mocking eyes.
I looked to Nix. “Is everything good to go?”
“Everything’s ready. Don’t worry about anything, and call me if you run into any issues.”
“What’s ready?” Berk’s gaze darted from me to Nix.
“Nothing for you to worry about.” I picked up my bag.
“Since when do we keep secrets?”