by Ginger Scott
“Reed Johnson, don’t you dare!” she screamed as I stepped over the concrete edge and waded in the water, sliding closer and closer to the main spray. Her screams and giggles only egged me on.
“You want to rethink that B minus, Noles? Eighty percent? You sure about that?” I said, freezing in place, just one more step away from the full effects of the waterfall. I looked her in the eyes and watched as she flinched, just for a minute, and then finally did it.
“Okay, maybe I was being a bit unfair. You were really more of an eighty-two,” she said, baiting me.
Our eyes locked, I pushed my lips tight into a disapproving grin and shook my head. “Oh, now you’ve done it,” I said, stepping forward and stopping us underneath the force of the fountain’s shower. Nolan wasn’t mad. Sure, she screamed and smacked at my chest as the freezing water poured over us. But my playfulness never rattled her. If anything, it had the opposite effect, which I was counting on as she reached around my neck and pulled my head to hers for a forceful kiss. Her hands grabbed at my soaked T-shirt, pulling me closer. I let her body slide from my arms so I could wrap my fingers through her hair. It was a good thing Trig and Sarah reminded us we were in public.
“God, you two. It’s bad enough that I don’t have a boyfriend, but do I really have to be the uncomfortable third wheel on our way to the bars, too?” Sarah broke us up.
“Sorry, Sar. I get carried away, what can I say,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, reaching for Nolan’s hand to help her climb over the edge of the fountain. But I wasn’t about to let her go. I grabbed her back in my arms and dunked her once more, pushing my forehead to hers as she slid her hair back out of her eyes and blinked the beaded water from her lashes, laughing. I swung her back and forth in my arms as I carried her back to the dry side, the tips of our noses touching and my lips tingling just watching her bite her lower lip. Unable to take it, I had to kiss her once more, the soft and slow kind I did when I forgot others were watching—or when I wanted everyone to know she was mine. And she was…she had my entire heart.
We dripped dry during the rest of our walk to the dorms. Sarah and Noles changed in our bathroom while Trig and I got ready in our room. I hung our wet clothes over the backs of our desk chairs as Trig answered the door to let Amy in. He grabbed his wallet, and then the two of them headed out. I promised to catch up with them later.
Sarah and Nolan finally left the bathroom after about 25 minutes. I couldn’t tell for sure, but something seemed off—more than once tonight I had noticed the two of them glaring at one another, almost as if Sarah was urging Nolan to do something. I was pretty sure Sarah knew about my draft decision, and I sort of figured Nolan would talk to her about it. But something told me this was more than just the draft.
I shook it from my mind when Nolan stepped out in a pair of strappy red heels, faded jeans and a tight red top—clearly an outfit of Sarah’s design, but one I was deeply thankful for.
“Uhhhh, dammnnnnn,” I said, reaching for her back pocket and pulling her close to claim her right away.
Her giggle was nervous. As I wrapped my arms around her and kissed at her neck, I felt her tense a little. It was almost…hesitation? Something was definitely off. But I needed to wait for Sarah to be out of the picture for that talk. So in the meantime, I’d just enjoy the damn sexy view.
Nolan
So, it turns out there really isn’t an easy segue into a conversation with your boyfriend about being knocked up. I spent the entire drive to Tucson listening to Sarah preach to me about what I needed to do. “You HAVE to tell him,” she said, a million times, in a million ways.
But why did I have to tell him now? I mean, I know. I have to tell him. But it didn’t have to be tonight. I just wanted to enjoy our blissful innocence for a little bit longer. And I didn’t want to yank everything out from under him yet, either. I wanted to wait, just to make sure. Wait for my appointment, perhaps. I’d spent the last 24 hours sick and bouncing between reality and my make-believe world where my problems went away. And now I was consumed with finding a way to hide the anxiety on my face. The last thing I needed was Sarah’s constant bringing-it-back-to-the-forefront.
Reed pulled me away from my thoughts as he grabbed my hand and led me out to the dance floor at Cooler’s. The place was really a dive bar, but it had such a huge following and was always packed. The dance floor was a giant stretch of polished concrete; the graffiti that decorated it had been sealed in place by the glaze on the floor. I wondered if you would actually reach anyone if you dialed the 1980s phone numbers that were barely legible but still there.
Sarah started dancing the moment we entered the bar, already snuggled up against some tall frat guy that Reed nodded an okay to—just to let Sarah know he was safe. Reed wasn’t much of a dancer, but he liked the slow songs. So did I. Slowly swaying in his arms, with my ear pressed against his heart, was the best place in the world. We stayed like that for two or three songs in a row before Reed kissed my head and led me back to a table so he could hit the restrooms.
I caught a glimpse of Sarah out on the dance floor with Amy. The two of them looked like professionals, twisting and grinding in sync. With their curves and exposed skin, it was no wonder that they drew the eyes of most of the males at the bar when they danced together. And it wasn’t a surprise when Trig had to step in, and, on occasion, throw a punch or two to get Amy back to himself. Sarah thrived under the attention, and I was constantly worried about her getting in over her head. She had a knack for going home with the wrong guy.
“So, you tell him yet?” Sarah said, a little too loudly, as she slid into the chair next to me and reached for her beer.
“Uh, no…and I won’t need to if you keep shouting shit out loud like that,” I scolded her.
“Pfft,” she took a big drink, set the bottle down hard and leaned in to me. “I’m sorry to be tough here, Nolan, but you can’t be a chicken about this. It’s a sucky situation. But it’s not just going to fix itself. And it’s not just about you.”
I knew everything she was saying. And I knew she was just dishing out her own brand of tough love. It was the only kind of love the Perez sisters knew how to serve. But add that to the fact that she was working on a pretty good buzz, and it was starting to get obnoxious.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I said forcefully, hoping she’d get the point and drop it.
She stood and pushed her empty bottle at me. I tensed a little as I saw Reed walking up behind her. “Sure you do, Nolan; you hear me,” she said, slamming her chair back into the table and taking off for the dance floor.
“What’s her deal?” Reed asked.
“Who knows; some guy’s not paying attention to her or something, whatever,” I was flippant and lying. It made my stomach hurt, because deep down I knew Sarah was right. But I kept up my façade anyhow.
I didn’t feel much up for dancing after my tiff with Sarah, and I was pretty sure she was done with me for the night when she came up to the table to grab her purse and told us she’d just meet me back at home to drive back to campus Sunday. I watched her leave with Mr. Tall Frat Boy, admonishing her a little in my mind for giving it up so easily. “Hypocrite,” I thought to myself.
“Hey, where you at tonight?” Reed asked, pulling my hand to his lap and rubbing my palm with his thumbs.
“Sorry, I feel bad that I was grumpy with Sarah, that’s all,” I said, a half-truth.
“You wanna call it a night?” Reed said, standing and stretching. His beautiful broad body doubled my size, and when we were out and he was dressed in his snug jeans and tight, black T-shirt I felt defensive, ready to fend off the dozens of college co-eds drooling and begging for a chance to take him home.
“Yeah, I think so. Trig okay with us leaving him?” I asked, looking over to where he was dancing with Amy, his hands roaming her body for the world to see.
“Uhm, I’m pretty sure Trig couldn’t care less where we go,” Reed laughed.
The
drive back to Reed’s was quiet. I knew why I wasn’t talking, and I had a guess what was on Reed’s mind, too. He was really battling not to bring up his draft options with me before we had a chance to really talk about things. I felt like such a terrible person. Here he was, pausing his own dreaming just to make me happy, and all I could do is think about how I was going to ruin it all anyway.
Reed cracked open the window in his dorm room when we got there to let a little bit of the breeze in. It was still warm at night, but the desert air smelled sweet, and it made the concrete walls Reed was living in seem a little less cold and stuffy. Reed turned the lights off and slowly walked to me. He reached for the bottom of my shirt as he pulled me closer, until I crashed into him a bit, and he fell back, sitting on his bed with me on his lap.
“Those shoes have to be killing you, if I know you at all,” he smirked, pulling at the straps on my feet to relieve their misery. He did know me so well. I couldn’t wait to be barefoot.
He started rubbing the arches of my feet as I snuggled into him. “Oh my god, you have no idea how good that feels,” I said. Reed laughed in response, a little sinisterly. I poked him in the ribs for his dirty mind.
“Sorry, it’s just…anyone walking by wouldn’t think I’m rubbing your feet,” he said, walking his fingers up my leg and tummy a little, flirting with the edge of my shirt. Suddenly, I stiffened. I know Reed could sense my hesitation from his touch, and I was a little surprised by it, too. I tried to play it off, sliding from his lap to lie back on his pillow. He quickly pulled his shoes off and slid next to me, propping his head up on one hand while his other stroked my hair behind my ears.
He was looking just above my eyes, his gaze a little distant. He was thinking, and I recognized his I want to talk expression. “You want to say something, I can tell,” I said, scrunching my nose because I knew what he wanted to talk about.
Reed let out a deep breath. “I do. It’s the draft,” he locked his eyes with mine. “I know we were going to wait to talk about it, but my mom’s in town, and she set up a lunch tomorrow with Dylan and…”
All I heard was Millie was in town. I always had an adverse reaction to Reed’s mother, but for some reason it made me shiver tonight. Like a child, I rolled to my side, looking away from him and cutting him off mid-sentence.
“I know, I know. I wanted to just spend the day me-and-you, too…but I don’t have a lot of time, and I need to talk with Dylan because I can’t talk with Brent, legally. And…” Reed was pleading with me. I wanted to be open to his needs, but the weight of my secret and the thought of having to make decisions and bring my news out for his mother’s judgment repulsed me. It made me irrational, and I was being a bitch. I couldn’t stop, though.
“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “Seriously, whatever. We’ll go to lunch with your mom, and talk about it tomorrow. Just not tonight, okay?”
Reed took a slow long breath, his arms falling away from me as he rolled to lie on his back next to me. I couldn’t turn to face him. I wasn’t sure my face could continue to bluff. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired,” I forced out the words.
Reed rubbed my back a bit and then leaned over to whisper in my ear as he reached his arm around me to pull me close. “It’s okay,” he said, kissing my neck a little. “You go to sleep.”
Within an hour, I heard Reed’s breathing start to steady, and I knew he was fast asleep. I, on the other hand, was probably looking at pulling an all-nighter with my own thoughts. Again.
Chapter 4
Reed
I probably could have been smoother when I brought up lunch with my mother. I knew Nolan had strong feelings about my mom and how she treated her. But I wasn’t expecting her to completely shut down like she did tonight. And I didn’t get to explain who Dylan was, either. There wasn’t really a good time to squeeze in “Oh, by the way, Dylan is a really hot 24-year-old blonde, and she’s going to be spending a lot of time with me until I can sign with her dad, hope you’re cool with that.”
We were walking into the golf resort restaurant my mom had selected, and I had Nolan’s hand firmly grasped in mine, hoping like hell she’d let me hold onto it after she met Dylan. I saw my dad sitting in the distance at a table near the giant panoramic window, and as we rounded the corner, the two blondes with him came into view. I forced myself to remain calm, not show any emotion or worry.
As we got to the table, everyone stood, and I noticed Nolan’s eyes were just a little wider than normal. Her mind was putting this together, and I was anticipating the moment it all hit her. Making things worse, Dylan stood up from her seat and walked around my seated mother to me, her legs exposed in a short mini skirt and her breasts out on display in a tiny tank top, ready to close the deal.
“Reed, so good to see you again,” she smiled, leaning into me for a hug and then giving me a small kiss on the cheek. Fuck!
Nolan’s hand dropped from mine immediately. I tried to get her to look at me, but she kept her eyes focused on the table in front of us. She was reaching to pull out her own chair when Dylan spun around and flashed her trademarked perfect smile. “And you must be the girlfriend?” she said, in a tone that was, I swear, a carbon copy of my mother’s. She reached out her hand and, by some small miracle, Nolan shook it rather than punching her in the face.
My dad took over the conversation during lunch. I tried to force myself to pay attention, answer questions and be engaged, but most of me was preoccupied with trying to fix the fantastic fuck-up I was pretty sure was left in the wake of Dylan’s touchy behavior towards me. Seriously, what the fuck was that!?
I tried to reach for Nolan’s hand under the table more than once, but she always kept it at a distance. She was pleasant and smiled fondly at my dad when he spoke; she tolerated my mother, who never once even acknowledged her, and she conversed with Dylan about her classes and working in special education. But I was clearly cut out, and that was made extremely clear as soon as we left the restaurant, said our goodbyes and climbed back into the car for me to drive her back to Coolidge.
“Noles, I’m so sorry to spring that on you like that, let me explain…” I started before she turned to look at me and clicked her seatbelt, her teeth gritted and mouth shut tight.
“Nothing to explain, Reed,” she said flatly, almost removed from the conversation. She just turned to face forward again, pulled her purse to her lap and began looking through it, avoiding me.
I reached over to stop her, and she jerked to the side. “It’s fine, really,” she said, still looking through her purse.
“Nolan, come on,” I grabbed at her wrist now.
“What do you want me to say, Reed?” she was yelling now. Yelling is better than avoiding, so this was progress. “Do you want me to say that Dylan is awesome? That I like her a lot, and that I’m super excited she’s going to make your life decisions with you, because she’s born into some fancy privileged family and came out of the womb with a CEO title stamped on her fucking forehead and is just waiting for her time to run her daddy’s millions?”
“Woah,” she needed to slow down. “Noles, that’s a little unfair…”
She stopped me again, holding a flat hand to my face. “Don’t you fucking dare, Reed. Fair? I’m being unfair? I show up for my weekend with my boyfriend, and then I spend it watching some status-hungry woman gush over you, drape her body on you, and then treat me like I’m a kid getting to sit at the grown-ups’ table during lunch with Millie. Oh, and Millie…that’s just the icing on the cake. I was fucking invisible to her, which—don’t get me wrong—is usually preferable. But not when she’s busy fawning over the daughter-in-law she’s clearly hoping to have in front of me? My replacement she’s brought in, the one she approves of? Uhhhhg…” Nolan let it all out in one breath. She finally turned her face to look back out her window.
We drove the rest of the way to Coolidge in silence. It took almost an hour. Nolan didn’t make a single sound. She didn’t turn her head my way once, and the only moveme
nt she made was to check the time on her phone and to pull some ChapStick from her purse. I started to panic when I turned to drive down her parents’ street. We’d fought before. Hell, we were good at fighting. But since high school we never let a fight go without closure. Today gave me a bad feeling, though.
I pulled into her driveway and put my Jeep into park, half expecting her to bolt from my car and slam her door closed in my face. But she didn’t. She just sat there. I let my seatbelt go and turned my body to face her, my face resting on the headrest. She was just staring straight in front of her, looking lost. Damn it, I’ve done it.
“I’m sorry, Noles,” I was whispering, pleading now. “I didn’t want it to hit you all at once, and I sure as hell didn’t expect Dylan to be…well, who she is, or do whatever the hell it was she did. I just met her, and she made a lot of assumptions about how friendly we were. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
I reached for her hand, and she let me hold it this time, giving me hope. She let her head flop to the side so she could look me in the eyes now, and the damn water building in them was breaking my heart. I reached up to wipe away a tear just as it fell and then brought her hand to my lips to kiss it.
She finally took in a deep breath and bit her lip a little, readying herself to speak. “It’s not Dylan. Not really,” she just stopped. I reached up to wipe another tear, waiting for her to continue. I waited for minutes, just searching her eyes, which weren’t giving me anything. Unable to take it, I started.
“It’s the draft, I know. Nolan, what do you want me to do? I mean it. What do you want?” I couldn’t believe I was putting it out there like that, but I was scared. I was gambling that she’d give in, but was I really willing to wait if she asked me to? She took in a sharp breath and looked away again.