“You!” I yell, pointing at the middle linebacker who keeps getting the sack. “Chillax, alright? Your QB needs to be able to play the game on Friday. He can’t do that if you keep laying him out. Save that shit for the opposing team, eh?” He laughs loudly, then makes a show of angling his back toward me so I can view the last name on the back of his practice jersey. Hollins.
Jarrod.
Oh, shit.
“Alright, boys, stop fuckin’ around. Get this done. Ms. Embers.” He shoots me a look, like he’s trying really hard to be mad, but can’t figure out why he’s not. “Sit.”
With a slight pout, I start to walk back to my seat in the bleachers.
“Ms. Embers,” he calls and I turn to him.
With his head, he motions toward the players’ bench. So, with a smile, I plant my ass right at the fifty-yard line.
After a while of watching the boys on the field, my eyes haze over and suddenly I’m in a different time, a different place altogether; yet, it’s all familiar.
The smell of the dew-covered grass, the loud cracking sounds that take over the air - a testament to the hard work and effort given from the players. The gusty winds and crisp frosty air rustles the last of the rust-colored leaves from their branches.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in, welcoming the razor-sharp November air.
Man, I’ve missed this.
A small smile graces my lips for a half a second before my eyes fly open.
Panicked, I jump up and head straight for my bag. The second I pick it up and prepare to bail, I’m hoisted up and spun around by a very happy, very sweaty, Parker Baylor.
He drops me and bends to whisper in my ear, “Where you going, Lolli Bear?”
He pulls back to look down at me. “You were ’bout to bolt.”
Evasion isn’t lying, right?
“Perhaps I was.” I force a grin. “Perhaps I wasn’t.”
“Uh-huh,” he laughs. “Your ass was on a mission; Operation Escape Monroe’s Hooks.” He laughs harder when I smack him on the back of the head. “We usually head to Wicker after practice a couple days a week. We’re going there after showers. You in?” he asks, squeezing me tighter.
I’m about to respond when a throat clears behind us.
I turn, still in Parker’s arms, to see Nate standing there, helmet in hand, sweat dripping down his temple, and looking pissed. I purposely lean into Parker’s chest, my back to his front.
He looks away. “I’m gonna change and we’ll head out.”
“Can we go to Wicker instead?” I ask, just to be polite because I’m going, whether he likes it or not. I think he knows it because he reluctantly agrees, before stomping off.
Parker waits a good forty-five seconds before he chuckles into my hair. “You’re a mean, mean woman.”
With a sigh, I pull myself out of his grasp, and turn to pat his chest. “I am indeed. Now, go change. I don’t want to get there way before you.”
“Afraid to be alone with the infamous,” he uses a dreamy schoolgirl voice, “Nate Monroe?”
“Afraid, no.” I deadpan. “Annoyed? Most definitely.”
He smiles. “Uh-huh, okay, Lolli Bear.”
"Whatever, you better hurry your ass up. This is your fault."
His eyebrows shoot up. “My fault? How the hell is this my fault?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine, it wasn’t your fault, but you could have warned me or something.”
His eyes flicker over my shoulder as he leans in to kiss my temple. “See you in a bit.”
As he passes, I turn to find Nate already at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me.
His hair fresh and wet – fastest shower known to man, I’m guessing.
“Ready?” he asks, his tone irked.
I sit down and cross my legs, folding my hands in a patient motion over my knees, and look at him with a cheesy smile on my face.
“What the hell are you doing, Kalani?”
When I don’t move an exasperated sigh leaves him, and he runs both hands down his face. “Let’s go.”
Still, I don’t move, just keep smiling.
He narrows his eyes, but it only takes about ten seconds for him to crack a smile and shake his head.
“See. That wasn’t so hard.” I jump up and throw my bag over my shoulder, walking down to meet him. I stop two stairs from the bottom, bringing us eye level, and narrow my gaze on him. “No brooding allowed.”
He steps forward, bringing us a breath away. “Rule for a rule?” He quirks an eyebrow.
Something in the pit of my stomach flits, making me nauseous or, well, I don’t really know. It’s strange, which pisses me off. So, naturally, I purse my lips, mask my face, and push past him.
I’m not falling for that…
He chuckles and snatches my bag off my shoulder, leading me to his fancy pants ride.
To ease the tension, I head toward the driver side; you know, for old times’ sake. His eyes narrow, but he can’t hide the amusement laced in them as he steers me toward the passenger door.
“Not today?” I ask over my shoulder.
Leaning in, he whispers, “Not ever. Now, hop in.”
The rest of the night goes by in a frenzy. That’ll happen when you put thirty rowdy guys with fresh adrenaline pumping through their veins in one place. Throw in the new girl who had to show her shit at practice and it’s a damn circus.
Everyone fired off question after question: Where did I learn? How long have I been a fan? Where did I come from? Was I single and taking marriage applications? That one was good.
I smiled, played polite, and answered most questions with a question, but all in all, it was fun. And when I told Nate I was getting a ride back to my house from Parker, he frowned and walked out, the dark-haired girl he was playing with at lunch under his arm.
Good times.
Hopping out of the shower, I brush my hair and teeth and drop onto my bed. I call for Nauni and she jumps up, snuggling into my side.
“Today was a good day, Nauni,” I whisper, running my hand down her back and across her tail.
Reaching over to my nightstand, I pull out my camera and set it down beside me.
I could just snap a picture. Of the wall. The window. Nauni. It’d be easy. Insta-photo, Polaroid and all, but the thought makes me want to puke and I like my bed too much for that.
My phone beeps next to me.
Picking it up, I find a text from Mia.
Meems: you alive or did the dreaded thing called high school win out?
Me: better call the coroner.
Meems: hmm… wonder if the autopsy will show death by feral females - aka jealous bitches - or hard up hot heads – aka the ENTIRE football team…
I bust up laughing, which scares the shit out of Nauni.
Me: definitely the latter.
Meems: yeah, figured. Heard you let your football flag fly today?
Me: not a big deal, Meems.
Meems: oh, but it is. However, since I love you I’ll play along…good job you.
I can’t help but smile.
Meems: my mom asked about you today. Guess she figured you would be over for dinner. Talk about your day and what not.
Me: and what not.
Meems: yeah.
I gnaw at my lip, unsure of what to say; an extreme rarity for me.
Meems: see you in the morning, Lollipop.
Thankful she gave me the out I needed, I sigh, toss my phone on my nightstand, and put the camera back in the drawer.
Today was a little crazy.
I forgot how chaotic a single day in high school could be. I made a friend in Parker, one I can tell will go the distance. I see something in him that I see in myself. He’s spunky and free spirited, but there’s more going on behind his blue eyes, something he pushes away, like me. I think he sees it too, and for that, we’ll balance one another well.
Then there’s Jarrod, a good-looking guy I might be able to kill time with. That is, if he’s not
a total dud and doesn’t backpedal after Nate’s little “she’s busy” stunt. Shithead.
Right. Nate, the broody, sexy superstar looking to add another hit to his helmet. I wouldn’t be opposed to it if he wasn’t such a privileged ass about it. Assuming, instead of putting in the legwork. I’ve dealt with over privileged assholes all my life, kids of high profile people who think their name or status means they get what they want at the snap of a finger.
Yeah, me and those kids never got along.
Then there’s the bitchy blonde who clearly thinks Nate belongs to her. And shit, maybe he does. Who knows.
So, yeah. One day in and I have a friend I never wanted, but now plan to keep, a guy to play with, a guy to fend off, and girl to watch out for.
Throwing myself onto my back, I stare at the ceiling.
Fuck high school.
Two weeks in and mostly everything remained the same. Liv was still a raging bitch, PE was still my favorite class, Nate never failed to frown in my direction, and Mr. Prescott was still both irritated and curious about me.
Every day, I continued, on my own accord, to show up to practice. It was the second day when I discovered cheer also practiced at the same time, on the same field. It didn’t take me long to figure out Liv was team captain. To say she didn’t particularly like that I was watching the boys practice was an understatement.
Mia knew my first week was a lot to take in, so when the weekend came, she didn’t hassle me too much about going out. I told her I needed some R and R and she was okay with it. Well, she accepted it. Begrudgingly, of course.
Last Friday had been the team’s bye week, so I’m excited to go to the game tonight.
Apparently, so is the whole damn town, I think, searching the bleachers for a place to sit, Mia in tow.
She squeals, pointing to the second bleacher from the bottom that’s half-bare in the center. “There!”
I shake my head, leaning close so she can hear me over all the noise. “There’s a blanket down. Those seats are taken.”
“Oh, I know they are,” she says, pulling me toward the section, a deep smirk in place.
“Mia, we can’t take someone’s seats.”
“You’re right, but these,” she steps over the first bleacher, not caring that she’s bumping into people all around her, “are our seats. Well, your seats, but I get to bask in your glory.”
I squeeze by the front row, careful not to nail anyone with my bag, and sit down next to her. “And who, dare I ask, saved these seats for me?”
“It appears Mr. Hollins is ready to make his play, Ms. Embers.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Rumor has it, he’s coming for you tonight.”
A smile finds my lips. “’Bout damn time. I thought Nate scared him off with his He-Man act. Luckily he’s chilled out.”
“Yeah, something’s up with him. I went to Wicker last night with Ashley and Alyssa, and Ryan said he hasn’t been in since Monday, which is totally out of character for him.”
Eyes on the field, I shrug. “Maybe he wasn’t hungry?”
She barks out a laugh. “Hungry? Shit, Lolli. It’s not about being hungry.” She thinks it over for a second. “Well, I guess it is.” She laughs again.
I turn to look at her, frowning.
“Lolli,” she gapes at me. “Wicker is where all the girls go, knowing damn well the guys will be there. It’s basically a one stop shop for the team. Fill up on carbs, then burn ’em off.” She grins.
“Shag ’em and bag ’em.”
“Pick ’em and stick ’em.”
We both laugh.
The lady in front of us turns around, shooting daggers at Mia.
“Oh, hey, how you doing Ms. Asia?” Mia asks, overly animated and clearly amused.
The woman scoffs and turns around.
Mia laughs and leans into to whisper in my ear. “’Member the story I told you about the guy I got caught dry humping on the bus freshman year?”
I nod.
“That’s his mom.” She laughs. “Did I tell you she was the one driving said school bus?”
Now we’re both laughing.
She turns in her seat and I look back out at the field.
“Anyway,” she shrugs, digging her lipstick out of her purse. “Something’s off with Nate.”
“Maybe he has a girlfriend, or is hooking up with some chick and doesn’t need to go to Wicker.”
She scoffs. “Um, no. That’s the least likely scenario.”
The conversation is cut off as we stand for the National Anthem.
The game starts out on a high note, with a Knight running the kickoff back for a touchdown. All the boys are on point, Nate included.
Watching him, his precision, his fluidness… It’s so obvious his heart is in his hands, in the form of rubber and laces. The moment it leaves his hand, you know it’s going only where intended. He has full control.
Passion in its deepest venue.
In the end, the boys take the win thirty-four to thirteen.
As we pack up to leave, I hear my name being called from below. I turn, finding Jarrod at the bottom of the railing. He rips his helmet off, his blond hair slick with sweat.
“You found your seat,” he shouts.
“That I did. Good lookin’ out.”
He grins. “Let me take you to the party tonight.”
Right, the party. As much as I want to hang with him, I don’t want to go to a party. I’m about to turn him down when I remember I told Mia I would try the whole normal high school senior thing.
I walk up to the metal bar and lean over, into his space. “You gonna feed me first?”
His green eyes light up. “I can do that.”
“Then, I can definitely go with you.”
He laughs, stepping back. “Let me get fresh for you.” He holds up both hands, his helmet still in one. “Ten minutes. Stay there,” he says with a wink, and I can’t help but think of the last person who told me to stay put.
My eyes seek him out. He’s standing next to Mr. P. and a gray-haired man, a pleased smile taking over his handsome face. In my peripheral, I see Liv. When I turn to meet her stare, she flicks her gaze to Nate, then back at me, her eyes narrowing so low I’m surprised she can see.
When I toss her a flippant smile, she flips me off.
It’s the perfect hate-hate relationship.
Jarrod and I end up at a small taco shop.
Our conversation is light and easy. He tells me he plans to play ball in college, but eventually he wants to go into business with his father. Apparently, he owns a computer programming company that helps create and edit commercial ads. Interesting enough, I guess.
He asks me what I plan to do after high school, so I tell him I plan to channel my inner pixie, fly to Neverland, bunk with Wendy, and become best friends with Tiger Lily.
All in all, it was fun. So, when he asks me to go out with him again, I agree.
By the time we pull up, it’s around ten-thirty, and the party’s in full swing.
He turns off his truck – a white Dodge Ram, locked and loaded, chrome everything - and opens his door. He looks to me before stepping out. “You ready for your first official Alrick High party?” I just smile, not telling him I was at one a few weeks ago.
As we walk up the steps, he places his hand on my lower back. It’s a sweet, yet unnecessary, gesture.
“So, whose place is this?”
“Parker’s dad’s house,” he responds as we walk through the door.
Relief washes over me. Parker’s place I can do.
Jarrod senses it and removes his hand, his eyes cutting away then back to me.
I can’t help but laugh. “Just ask, Hollins. Don’t be scurred,” I tease.
He laughs, nodding his head, urging me through the entryway and into the kitchen. “All right.” He hesitates for a beat. “So, you and Parker…”
So, he’s not bold enough to ask. Shame.
“Are just friends. I plan on keeping him around,” I hold
his gaze. “Indefinitely.”
He lifts his hands in surrender, a grin on his lips. “Message received,” he laughs, reaching out to brush my arm with his fingertips. “Want a drink?”
“Sure.” I nod. “If you can find me something with a cap or twist top that has yet to be popped or twisted, I’ll have a drink.”
“Smart girl.”
I turn to mingle, but stop when I feel his hand on my arm again.
“I’m not about to leave you here for some other guy to try and swoop in.”
“Paranoid much?” I laugh.
“Definitely,” he says with a smirk.
The night continues with ease. We mix and meander through the house, chatting about nothing with different people. Jarrod is very attentive. I know he wants me to have a good time, to feel included, and he’s doing a good job. But I just need to breathe, get some fresh air. My facial expression must show it because Parker finds his way to me, a knowing grin on his lips.
“Jarrod, my man.” He slaps him on the shoulder. “I’m stealing Lolli for a while.”
Jarrod looks at me for confirmation. I should probably feel bad, but I have been hanging out with him for the last few hours.
With a smile, I rise to my toes to speak in his ear so I don’t have to yell over the music. “I’m gonna hang with Parker. If I don’t see you before one of us heads out, thanks for tonight.” I drop a quick kiss to his cheek before lowering to my feet.
His smile seems a little forced but he nods, dropping his head to kiss my cheek as well.
Parker tries to hide his grin, but fails miserably. Throwing his arm across my shoulder, he pulls me through the house.
“You looked like you needed an escape,” he laughs.
I smile and wrap my arm around his lower back. Leaning my head into his side, I sigh. “Ahh, Parker…my Knight in tight Calvin’s.”
He busts out laughing. “You like these, huh?” He reaches down and snaps the top of his briefs that are slightly sticking out of his faded jeans.
“It’s quite sexy, yes, but…question?” I pull back to look at him.
Fumbled Hearts (A Tender Hearts Novel) Page 6