by Amanda Ashby
“You mean you didn’t want to get kicked off the team for fighting,” she retorted in a cool voice.
He stiffened. “You really believe that?”
She let out a shuddering breath and finally returned his gaze. “All I know is yesterday you were named captain, and then you were late to help us. And today—” She cut herself off and studied the table again. “If you didn’t want to do this anymore…you could have just said.”
“What?” The word exploded out of him and he stood, trying to shake off the building energy. “You think that’s what this was about?”
“Shouldn’t I? You never even bothered to say where you were yesterday. Another crisis with someone on your team?”
He swallowed, and his chest tightened like it was being clamped. He walked to the other end of the room and back again. “I was late because I got a detention. There was a geography paper I forgot to finish.”
“A detention? Why didn’t you say?” Some of the hurt left her eyes and her mouth dropped open.
“Because I didn’t want you to know I was a screwup.” He leaned against the wall, his arms folded. A flash of guilt crossed her face.
“If you were spending too much time on the auction, you could have told me. Or if you needed help with the assignment.”
Yup, that definitely wouldn’t have made me feel like a screwup.
He took a deep breath and walked back to the chair, leaning forward so they were eye level. “Can we drop it? I swear there’s nothing going on with me and Kennedy. She only did it to piss Myles off. Problem is she doesn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire.”
Norah was silent, her body perfectly still. Lead filled his guts and adrenaline surged through him. Why wasn’t she speaking?
“I know you’re pissed, and I get it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to bid on you. I’m sorry my friends do dumb things, but I want to make this right.”
She finally spoke. “It’s not going to work. It never was. We’re too different. You’re always going to have girls flinging themselves at you, and I’m always going to feel like a fraud. Like someone who accidentally ended up with you because you crashed into their card table.”
Wait. She thought he’d cheat on her?
That it was all a joke to him?
For someone who didn’t play sport, she sure knew how to pack a punch.
He rubbed his jaw and tried to ignore the gnawing sensation in his chest.
“Why’s it so hard for you to believe I like you?”
Her mouth trembled. “Because guys like you don’t date girls like me. You’re beautiful, popular, kind.”
“So are you,” he said, but she shook her head, her mouth in a grimace.
“I’m not, Zac. Stop making me spell things out for you.”
He shut his eyes and the world stopped.
She thinks I’m dumb.
“Tell me what’s going on. And don’t forget to use small words so I can follow.” Even to his own ears his voice sounded hard.
She opened her mouth and shut it again.
Not that she needed to say anything. Her face told him everything. White like a mask, the shy smile all gone. Like a store that had gone out of business and pulled down the shutters for the final time. Finally she looked up at him.
“After the accident…my dad…the reason he left was because he couldn’t look at my scars. Why should I expect you to stay when my own father couldn’t even handle seeing me maimed?”
A second punch, but this time anger flared in him.
The room was too small. Silence throbbed between them. His throat burned and his pulse hammered. Her dad had walked out after her accident?
She thinks I’m going to do the same thing.
Just some stupid guy.
“How would I know, Norah? You never let me see them,” he said. Something flickered in her face, and then it died.
“It was never real anyway. You wanted to get back on your team, and I needed help with the auction. Now it’s done, there’s no reason to keep this going.”
It was never real?
What did that mean? That he’d been deluding himself?
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Blood roared in his ears and he got to his feet. He needed to get out of there. Needed some space. And something to punch. A wall should do it. He stalked to the door then swung around. All this time trying to clean up his messes. Trying to turn over a new leaf. Trying to believe it was possible. All for nothing.
“You know what sucks the most? You keep saying I’m not just some dumb jock, yet it turns out you never believed a word I said. I thought you were different.”
He waited. Hoping she’d speak.
To say it had all been a joke. A mistake. That they were fine.
“Zac,” she croaked. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be okay with everything. To not feel like this, but I can’t. It won’t go away—”
She broke off. Didn’t matter anyway. He stalked out the door and back to the hall. Piper and Gareth were both sitting on the stage cross-legged, eating chocolate cake. He didn’t bother to speak to them. What was the point?
He clenched his fists and stepped out into the night. Right back where he’d started. A guy who kept messing things up. Well, if he’d learned anything, it was he needed to stop trying to fix things. Because that just made it worse. So much worse.
xxxx
Norah put down the phone. Another message from Piper. And nothing from Zac. Not exactly a surprise. She now knew she was terrible at breaking up.
Was there a good way?
I thought you were different.
His words spun around in her mind. She turned in her bed and kicked back the covers. She hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains, and pale blue light flooded the room. She shut her eyes to block it out.
Disaster. All her words had come out wrong. Come out as if she thought he was stupid.
This was why she didn’t like speaking to people.
Everything got tangled up.
All she’d wanted to do was explain how her stomach had dropped when Kennedy strutted out onto the stage. And then he’d run out of the hall, leaving her there alone. How she could feel all the people who knew they were dating turn and stare at her.
Poor Norah, they were thinking. Who was she kidding?
But it was like he was being purposely obtuse. Refusing to see they were mismatched. Refusing to understand there was a reason behind how she was feeling. That she was always going to be the girl with scars, who wore weird T-shirts, and who people thought was a joke.
Like when he asked her why she didn’t date. He kept making her state the obvious.
And still it didn’t sink in.
So she’d tried to make him understand by telling him about her dad. How when it had got too hard, he’d left. Bailed on them. That she wasn’t worth staying around for.
But it hadn’t worked. Zac had looked at her like she’d hit him.
Then he’d left.
No charming words, no disarming smiles to try and fix it. Which proved her point. He was always going to leave—it had only been a matter of time.
She couldn’t even blame him. It was her fault for thinking it would work. For thinking she could be different from who she really was.
She reached for the packet of jellybeans by her bed then dropped them. Hand picked by Zac. Great. Now she could never eat another one again. She turned back, her limbs heavy and listless. She’d done the right thing, and the only reason Zac had turned statue still, his face drained of color, was because he was a great actor. Tomorrow he’d be goofing off with his friends, surfing, doing all the things he always did now he was back on the team and not stuck helping her with the auction.
And what would she be doing?
She’d go back to what she’d always done. She’d focus on raising money and helping people. Doing things to make her feel like she mattered.
Her phone beeped again and s
he grabbed it. But it wasn’t from him. It was a message from Kennedy Quinn.
Norah, we need to talk.
Disappointment stung and the tears that’d been threatening leaked out. Kennedy called again. And a third time. The last thing Norah wanted to do was speak to the girl who didn’t seem to care who she hurt along the way, but part of her was curious. And hopeful. On the eighth call she answered.
16
“Nice game, Mackenzie.” Coach’s face was impassive, but his hand thumped against Zac’s shoulder in congratulations.
“Thanks.” Zac grunted and went over to Pete and Max, who were warming down. To the left of them were Kennedy, Taylor, and some of their friends. Myles had gone over to the goal net and was lying flat on the grass. It was his end of game ritual when he scored a goal, so Zac left him. As far as he could tell, Myles hadn’t been drunk since the auction last week.
Maybe they’d both learned something.
Don’t drown your sorrows, and don’t believe girls when they tell you anything.
Then again, Norah had only been telling him the truth.
He was exactly who the world thought he was. He’d just been too stupid to believe it. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. At least he was back doing what he was good at. Coach said there would be a scout at next week’s match. Perfect. It was time to get his life back on track.
“You were a demon out there.” Pete slapped his arm. “That cross you did into the box was magic.”
“Killer,” Max agreed. “So, there’s a bonfire down at the cove. You should come.”
He should. But he wasn’t going to.
“Or, at least come surfing tomorrow,” Pete added, but Zac shook his head.
“No, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said. It was a lie, but he’d rather do nothing on his own than surrounded by people. His friends exchanged a look, but Zac ignored it. He’d been ignoring a lot of things lately. “I’ll see you guys Monday.”
Pete opened his mouth but shut it again, and Zac collected his gear and jogged back to the showers. The locker room was noisy, and he stopped and chatted to a few of the team before heading to the parking lot.
Via had gone to the game with Hudson, as had his parents and just about all his friends. Apart from one person. He knew this because he was the idiot who’d spent the entire first half of the game scanning the crowd.
He always had been a slow learner.
He fumbled for his car keys as footsteps sounded out from somewhere behind him.
“Zac,” a familiar voice said. Unfortunately it wasn’t the familiar voice he wanted to hear. He didn’t bother to turn around.
“What do you want, Kennedy?” He still sat at the same table each day at lunch, but he’d managed to avoid talking to her. It hadn’t been hard since her and Myles had gotten back together and were always whispering to each other.
“I’d like you to turn around,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’m not armed with soda.”
“Make it quick.” He turned and caught sight of the stupid gold coin in her hand. The one with his name on it. She had to be joking. “If you think for one minute I’m going on a date with you, then—”
“I don’t,” she quickly said and passed it over to him. He frowned, then shoved it in his pocket. “That’s not why I’m here. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Fine. Apology accepted. Bye,” he said and turned back to the car.
“Zac.” She dragged at his arm, a pleading note in her voice. “I heard you and Norah broke up.”
“It happens.” He shrugged.
“All the same, I’m sorry. About lying to Myles, and about bidding on you. He made me so mad—” She broke off. “I guess that’s not the point. But he knows the truth now. That I hit on you at the party, not the other way around.”
Zac shut his eyes.
That stupid kiss that had started the whole mess. It seemed like another lifetime. Back when the most important thing was getting on the team. Right now he didn’t even care if Myles tried to punch him again. It might be a good distraction.
Kennedy was uneasily shifting from foot to foot. He sighed.
“Thanks. Now can we forget it?”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “But if there’s anything I can do…”
“There isn’t,” he said in a flat voice.
“If it’s any consolation, after sending Norah a few text messages, she finally let me talk to her. I told her the truth.”
“You spoke to her?” Hope flickered. “What did she say?”
“Not much,” she admitted, giving him an apologetic smile. “Just that there were other things involved and it wouldn’t have worked with you two.”
His jaw tightened and his muscles ached.
Of course that was what she said.
Because all the things she’d told him had been a lie. She just saw him as a dumb jock who didn’t know better. Someone who couldn’t be trusted. Maybe she was right.
“I gotta go.”
“Bye, Zac,” Kennedy said in a subdued voice as he climbed into his car and pulled out of the parking lot. The roads were quiet, and ten minutes later he was home.
He dropped his gear into the laundry basket. He’d sort it out tomorrow.
His dad’s voice sounded out from the kitchen. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
He sighed and walked through. There were shopping bags scattered on the floor, and his dad was putting things away. “No party to go to?”
Zac shook his head.
“It was a great match. First win as captain. How does it feel?”
He blinked. Truth was, it didn’t feel like anything.
“Great.” He leaned against the counter.
“Oh, hey,” his dad said, holding up a box of cereal and tossing it over. It was the kind that cost three times the price of their regular brand. His mom refused to buy it out of principle. “Got this to celebrate.”
Zac caught it and put it down on the counter. “Thanks, I’m not hungry.”
His dad rubbed his chin. “If you want to—”
“I don’t,” he said and stalked from the room. Part of him knew he was being a douche, but the other part didn’t care. Why did everyone want to keep talking to him about things?
It was pointless.
He’d tried to do something differently and he’d messed it up.
He reached his room and shut the door. It was a tip, but he kicked past all the junk and clothes. He reached for his controller and flopped onto the bed, waiting for the game to come up. Damn. It was the same quest he’d completed with Norah. A marauding barbarian appeared, thick muscular arms pulling back on a heavy crossbow before releasing it. An arrow sped straight to Zac’s character, and he dropped to the ground dead. A deadly shaft straight through the heart.
Just about summed up his life right now.
xxxx
Zac woke with a groan as sunlight flooded into the room. Hell. His stomach rumbled, and he remembered he hadn’t eaten dinner. He groggily got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. His parents were at the table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Via was making some kind of green juice.
Ignoring them all, he walked into the pantry and grabbed the cereal box, tucking it under his arm.
“Want milk?” Via held up the bottle.
“Nope.” He shook his head. His sister and parents all exchanged a look, but Zac ignored it. He’d seen the same look his entire life.
Why does he keep breaking things?
Why can’t he be more like Via?
When will he learn?
Answer. Not any time soon.
He reached his room and ripped open the box and the inside packaging, plunging his hand in. Cereal spilled out onto the bed, but he ignored it. He’d eat, he’d game, he’d sleep, and on Monday he’d go back to school and pretend like he cared.
xxxx
“You want to go on the Buy a Date tomorrow? But that’s the second game of the season,” Gareth said in a cautious voice as
he hovered around her locker after school. “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Norah stuffed her books into the locker and shut it with more force than she needed to. Just because she was weak-willed enough to go and secretly watch Zac’s first game didn’t mean she was going to slip up again. Not that she’d told her friends—they thought she’d been at home.
“I figured you’d want to lie in bed all day and eat ice cream,” Gareth instantly replied, then groaned. “I’ve been spending too much time with girls, haven’t I?”
“I don’t want to change the date,” she said in a cool voice.
Gareth had tried to give her back the gold token and say that they didn’t need to go through with it, but she’d refused.
If they didn’t go on the date then it would make it even more obvious that he’d only bid on her out of pity. Plus, it was to raise money, and out of principle she needed to go through with her side of the bargain.
Because unlike Zac Mackenzie, I keep my word.
“Okay. So tomorrow we’ll go on a date,” Gareth said, still giving her a cautious look, as if he was about to go swimming in crocodile-infested waters.
“What about tonight? Should we hang out?” Piper asked.
“I might pass,” she said. Gareth’s suggestion about lying in bed eating ice cream sounded pretty good. She turned to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I swear there will be an attitude adjustment.”
“Norah.” He opened his mouth and then shut it again. Good.
She knew her friends wanted to help her, wanted her to talk about it, but what was the point?
It had been two weeks now. They’d been broken up for longer than they’d been properly dating. But the last fourteen days had gone on for eternity, while their time together was a blur.
Like she’d made the whole thing up.
In a way she had.
She sighed and climbed into her car. Her friends were standing in the parking lot, their eyes wide with worry. She’d apologize tomorrow.
It was a short drive home. Her mom’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway, but Greg’s was. The kitchen was finally finished, and the plastic was gone. Long marble benches were on top of white cabinets, and there was a huge farmhouse sink. The walls still needed painting, but it looked good.