by Mariah Dietz
I nod in reply before she wanders back to where the girls are gathered.
“Where’s Poppy?” Ian asks as I check my phone.
“I don’t know.”
His eyebrows edge higher. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say automatically, but in reality, I’m not sure. I reached out to her the day after Thanksgiving, and it took her five hours to respond, and when she did, it was brief. We had a home game yesterday but didn’t go out afterward because we were getting together today, so we called it an early night.
Before I can let my mind question her absence further, the doorbell rings, and since Poppy is the only one missing, I stand, knowing it’s likely her.
“I thought we had ten more minutes?” Arlo teases from his chair.
I flip him off and continue to the front door of Tyler’s house where he lives with Cooper, Vanessa, and Chloe. It’s a mammoth of a place, with contemporary touches and sleek lines throughout. Poppy is on the other side of the door, holding two large white boxes that I reach for.
“Hey,” I say.
She smiles, but something is wrong—absent. “Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got them,” she says, sliding past me.
“Hey, Poppy!” Arlo calls from the couch.
“Football?” she asks, walking past them and continuing into the dining room where the girls are gathered, making mocktails. Her arrival has their conversation coming to a pause as they greet her.
“What did you bring,” Chloe asks, clearing a space for her to set down the boxes.
“Cupcakes. I got more of the ones we ordered for the Halloween party, but full-sized ones this time.”
“Oh! Those were so good,” Rae says, filling a glass with some sparkling cider and handing it to Poppy.
I don’t return to the living room to finish watching the game. I’ve already watched the same tape three times over, including with Rae and Lincoln yesterday after practice.
“Pax, you just earned boyfriend of the night,” Alexis, Luis’s girlfriend, tells me. “Are the others following you?”
“They’re almost done,” I say.
“Shoot. I need to make a quick run to the store,” Chloe says. “I completely forgot butter.”
“We can go without butter,” Rae says with a shrug.
“I need it for a recipe,” Chloe says. “It’s not a big deal. It will take me like ten minutes to run and grab it.”
“That’s okay. Poppy and I will go,” I offer.
Poppy looks at me from across the room where she’s sipping her cider, surprise inching her brows up her forehead. “Yeah,” she says. “I still have my coat on.” As she sets her cup down, Rae looks at me, chin lowered with silent questions, clearly noticing the same differences in Poppy that I am. I nod once to let her know I’m aware, then place my hand on Poppy’s lower back.
“Where are you lovebirds going?” Luis asks as we walk back through the living room. “You can’t even sit through dinner without—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence,” I warn him.
Luis grins. “No judgment here,” he says.
“We’re running to the grocery store,” Poppy says.
“You guys watch the clock. I gave them my word. Don’t make me look like a dick.” I point at Tyler, who’s holding the remote.
“We just have to watch this play because I look like fucking Superman with this extension,” he says, eyes on the TV.
I open the door, keeping my hand on Poppy’s back. Outside is wet and gray, the air cold enough that I can see our breaths as we cross the deck. “This place is amazing,” I say.
Poppy looks back like she missed seeing it the first time. “It really is. I know a lot of people like living on the water, but I’d rather live like this where you don’t see neighbors from every window.”
“You want to live out in the forest?” I ask.
She nods. “I think so. I’ve always lived in a neighborhood, and there are perks, but I like the idea of having a big piece of property where I can go outside and have a big garden, and chickens, and maybe a goat or two.”
“Goats and chickens?” I ask, surprise and humor curling my lips.
“Maybe a pig, too.”
“You’re serious?”
She nods. “Introvert one-oh-one, we like our space.”
“I could get on board with a piece of property. Build a big track for go-karts and a little putting green.”
Poppy chuckles. “If there are go-karts, then there’s definitely going to be a pool.”
“Deal,” I say as we reach my car. I open the passenger door for her, but rather than slip inside, she hesitates, her green gaze starting to reflect that same brightness that was missing just seconds ago, then she slips into my car.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I ask once we’re both seated.
She nods. “It was … nice.”
“Why the pause?”
“I didn’t pause.”
“A little one.”
“It was just ... different. My mom actually invited Mike and his parents over.”
My full attention swings to her. “Really?”
She nods. “Yeah, my mom and his mom have kind of become friends over the past few years, and so she invited them over.”
“How was that?”
Poppy swallows as she struggles to make eye contact with me. “It was good. Shockingly normal.”
“Normal?”
“Yeah. I mean, it was kind of weird, but it also kind of felt like I was hanging out with an old friend. Kind of like when you and I hang out, you know?”
Something sour rests in my gut as she compares spending time with me to time spent with him. “What about his girlfriend?”
“She was in Arkansas for the weekend.”
“And she was okay with it?”
Poppy shrugs. “I don’t know. I think so. I mean, why wouldn’t she be?”
“Because you’re his ex…”
“She doesn’t know that.”
The news has me pulling my chin back. “What?”
“It’s irrelevant. We should go. We’re going to make everyone late.”
I nod, but everything inside of me wants to protest. “But they’re still together?”
“Yeah. I mean, I think so.”
“And we’re okay, right?”
She looks at me, that same note of hesitation present that keeps her from immediately responding. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know? You just seem upset.”
“It’s silly.” She moves her attention out the windshield.
“No. If something’s bothering you, we should talk about it. Hell, don’t we have a rule about this? Air all grievances?”
“It’s not a grievance, it’s just … a thing…”
Rain begins to fall against the windshield, creating a melody that silences the rest of the world as I stare at her, imploring her to tell me.
She rubs her lips together, drawing attention to the subtle roundness. “I just thought I’d hear from you, is all. It’s not a big deal. It was just weird because I spent the entire day with my ex, and it created all of these doubts and questions, and you were absent, and it was just … weird. And you didn’t do anything wrong. This is me and just … I don’t know, I’ve gotten used to hearing from you every day, so it was strange to not hear from you, especially since it was a holiday.”
A smile teases the corners of my lips, one that I strive to keep hidden.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks, her cheeks beginning to turn a light shade of pink.
“You missed me. Was it my extreme wit? My devilish grin?”
“I’ve changed my mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with you.”
My smile turns sincere. “I was going to reach out to you, but I knew that we’d said our families were off-limits, and I didn’t want to overstep the boundaries,” I say, omitting the fact I didn’t just want to say hi, I wanted to invite her over. “It was kind of weird not to have yo
u there,” I admit.
“It probably would have been weird if I had been there though, too, you know? Questions probably would have been asked, and telling your mom and grandparents about our arrangement would probably lead to a lecture or two, and besides, this is temporary, and you’re leaving this week to go out of town for another game.”
“It’s over on the other side of the state,” I tell her. “Aren’t you coming? Rae said you guys were going to drive over.”
Poppy’s eyes round. “You’re right,” she says. “We are.” She swallows, her nerves becoming more apparent. “It’s the last game.”
I flash a grin. “Well, hopefully not our last game, but it’s the final game of the regular season. I’m adding it to the rules. If all of the other girlfriends are going, it would look suspicious if you weren’t there.”
“You’re probably right.” She nods as though she’s trying to convince herself. “We should get going to the store. They’re going to start saying something if we take too long.” She leans back in her seat, and I put the car into reverse, realizing I don’t hate the idea of them having assumptions.
“Caleb mentioned this morning how much he likes that book you gave him. That was really cool of you, by the way.”
“I’m glad he’s enjoying it. I always feel bad because I don’t know how to interact with him.”
“You mentioned that it can be harder to talk to people when you’re around them a lot.”
“It is. It’s like conversation isn’t easy right away, all conversations and interactions feel increasingly strained with each interaction. I start reading into all the empty spaces, and it makes me really uncomfortable. I know Caleb’s a nice guy and that the reason things don’t always flow naturally is because we’re both introverts, and our connection is an acquaintanceship, you know? I was Rae’s best friend, and he was your best friend, and once in a while, our paths would cross.”
“It was cool of you to extend that olive branch to him. Caleb’s one of the best people I know, and I hated that Candace never attempted to talk to him or even acknowledged him. It always bothered the hell out of me.” I realize too late that I’m comparing her to my ex, something I swore I wouldn’t do because not only are we not dating, but comparing her to Candace paints a negative picture that isn’t fair to that previous relationship. “I didn’t mean to bring her up,” I say.
“No, it’s okay. I know what you mean. Last year when I was seeing Chase, he never made any attempt to get to know Rae or any of my friends, and it always felt like by him not trying with them, he wasn’t trying with me.”
“Exactly.”
She pulls in a breath. “Speaking of Candace, how are things going between you two? I saw you guys talking at the party last week after your game.”
“You did?” I try to recall the details of that night and how I’d made it a point not to be alone with Candace because that seemed like I’d have been hiding and could have potentially led to rumors. But thinking about it now, I realize that it may have been even worse to talk to her out in the open, like I was flaunting the fact. “No,” I say. “We were just talking. Nothing has changed.”
“You defend her a lot. Not that that’s a bad thing. I like that you don’t throw her under the bus, it just sometimes seems like…”
I shake my head. “No. No,” I repeat for good measure. “I think I defend her so much out of habit. Raegan’s never liked her, and neither did any of my friends. But, she wasn’t that bad. I mean, she had her moments, but, I don’t know. Candace was Candace. I knew that going into things, and initially, I liked that about her. I liked that she didn’t give a single fuck what others thought about her.”
“What changed that?”
“I realized she didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought about anything. After a while, that lack of caring began to suck everything from me, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. It felt like a Dementor sucking out my soul. When Rae had her accident last year, Candace didn’t call or show up for three days. She was jealous that I was with my family and couldn’t understand why I was still there since they said she was going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Poppy says. “That had to have felt lonely.”
I shrug. “I had my family and my friends.” I look across at Poppy, recalling the first night and how she’d been there, hugging my mom and being a calm voice of reason and assurance. She didn’t leave until the second day, and even then, was only gone long enough to shower and change. “I had you,” I tell her.
We pull up to the store, and I leave the engine running as I look at Poppy, realizing she’s been an integral part of my life, seeing me through so many milestones. My first and last high school games. When I found out I was accepted to Brighton on a full athletic scholarship, and then my first college game. When I learned my dad was having an affair and so many other moments, she witnessed and experienced where I overlooked the significance of her presence.
Poppy stares at me, tucking her dark red hair behind an ear. “I’ll be right back.” She opens the car door and slides out of the car as the realization hits me like an eighteen-wheeler that this lie feels like the most honest and authentic part of my life.
21
Poppy
“Friendsgiving is now officially my favorite holiday,” Raegan says as I drive home with her in my passenger seat. “Tonight was so much fun. We need to do this more often. The games, the food, the conversation—it was just so much fun. I much preferred doing this to a college party.”
It was fun—too fun. It was comfortable and easy, and everyone got along so well without the constant need to impress anyone or act jealous or offended. The problem was that as good as it felt, it also felt like a taunting reminder that I was an outsider as I realized my invitation was because they all think I’m dating Paxton.
“You and Pax were killing it in Catch Phrase,” Rae continues. “Poor Nessie. She was ready to strangle Cooper.”
“He was the opposite of MVP tonight,” I say.
“Without a single doubt,” Rae says, scrolling through her phone. “Okay, let’s talk details for the road trip this weekend. I know we haven’t had a lot of time to talk about it. I know we talked about driving, but the Snoqualmie Pass is supposed to get snow, so I was thinking we should maybe fly. It’s only a thirty-minute flight. The only drawback is that we won’t have a car while we’re there, but I don’t think we’re going to go anywhere besides the hotel and the stadium.”
I glance at Rae, wondering if this conversation seems strange to her when everything about it feels unbalanced to me. She’s on her phone, which is probably for the best. She’d likely feel my nerves and know something’s wrong otherwise. “How do these trips go?” I ask. “I mean, do you stay in the same hotel as the team? Are people going to think it’s weird if I get my own room?”
Raegan shakes her head. “The team has rooms booked in pairs, so no one is going to think anything about you having your own room.”
I wait for relief to lighten my mood and make this feel like a mini adventure after claiming that’s what I’ve been wanting, but the emotion that has my shoulders sinking feels a little too much like disappointment, and I don’t want to entertain the idea or reasons, so I simply nod.
“Here’s a flight that would get us there on Friday night at seven, and then we could leave Saturday night at ten, which is probably the same time the guys are going to be leaving on their private jet. Or we could go a little earlier on Friday and just have some girl time at the hotel. Maybe we’ll be close enough to do something in Spokane?”
“I’m up for whatever. I have a class in the morning and one in the afternoon, but I could skip it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “The professor’s never there, and his TA doesn’t take attendance. Everything’s online.”
“Want to leave at one?”
I nod, excitement drowning my jitters. “This will be fun!”
“Poppy!” Dominic greets me by name as
I enter Mario’s Pizzeria. I’m beginning to think the guy sleeps here because he’s literally always here. Rae and I have stopped in a few times to pick up dinner, and he was here every time. “You want something to eat or drink while you wait for Paxton?”
“I’m here,” Pax says, coming through the doorway behind me.
“You were almost late,” Dominic tells him.
Paxton saunters over to me, and my heart begins its descent like a skydiver. These moments always leave me second-guessing because though we agreed to kiss and act like a couple while in public, we usually don’t share much affection while here. This is a neutral zone where we talk and study. Pax stops when he’s just inches from me the full impact of his smile and attention somehow still more distracting than any kiss. “How’s your day going?” he asks.
“Garlic knots always make it a great day,” I say with a smile as I move to take a seat at our table.
Paxton follows me, stopping on the opposite side, his blue eyes nearly as hypnotic as his grin. “Garlic knots mean seeing me, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” His smile turns devious, like he’s teasing me. It’s moments like this that keep me up at night, working to decipher if he’s flirting with me or just joking around.
I laugh, and the sound is equally confusing. I’m no longer certain if I’m flirting or not either. “Are you ready for the last game of the season this weekend?”
Pax nods. “I’m not too worried about this game, but it’s insane that college football is nearly over.” He pulls up his sleeves and sets both hands on the table, eating the space between us so that there’s only a couple of inches. He could easily cross that distance but doesn’t. Paxton’s forearms are wide, his muscles and veins each visible like the constellation guides Chloe had shown us this past weekend during Friendsgiving. I trace over several of the patterns on his arms and wrists and then his hands, which are relaxed, his fingers loosely woven. I’ve always paid too much attention to people’s hands. Maybe that’s because here in Seattle, where it rains a solid eight months out of the year, it’s one of the few body parts that’s always exposed, or maybe it’s because I’ve heard my mom talk about how hands are the most expressive parts of our bodies aside from our faces. Paxton has hands that would have been painted and sculpted out of marble, no doubt, because his hands are the definition of perfect. Each finger is broad and long and proportionate, and his palms are large, with strong, defined knuckles, and more than that, it’s the way he is so graceful and powerful with his hands that makes them truly magnificent.