by Angel Lawson
“What kind of concerns?” We’re surrounded by dozens of football fans. Most dressed in red and black. The air smells like food and smoked meat. Noah’s parents stop every three seconds to greet someone they’ve known their whole lives. I definitely felt like a foreigner. My parents would never fit in here.
“Just some questions about his past have come up. My father asked me to do a little digging into his background. He’s not the most technologically savvy. It looks like there’s some questionable history with his taxes. Plus at least one charge of extortion filed about a decade ago.” That was when I saw the sliver flask creep out of his pocket. He took a fast swig and the scent of whisky lingered after.
“You’re drinking?”
“It’s the only way I can get through these things.”
“Do your parents know?” I didn’t hide my shock.
“June and Ward? Fuck no. They’re total teetotalers.” He offered me the flask and when I shook my head he took another swig and then shoved the bottle back in his deep pockets.
I eyed him suspiciously, realizing I didn’t know him at all. How could I? But it seemed he knew about my father, so I said, “Noah, I’m not going to lie and say my father has always been the most respectable person. He’s had his share of troubles and if that scares your dad away, I get it. I don’t blame him.”
Noah gnawed on a piece of chicken and tossed the bone in a trashcan his mother set up. “That’s the thing. I haven’t told my dad about your father’s history yet, because during my sleuthing I found something else.” He cut me a look. “About you.”
“What about me?” The familiar wave of anxiety rolled over my shoulders, daring to drown me.
“I know you told me you weren’t as religious as your father, but I have a feeling he’s not aware of your flamboyant lifestyle in high school. I imagine he’d be very disappointed to find out how promiscuous you were.” He shrugged. “Are? Is it over? Because I’ve seen you on campus with a few of the guys in the photos.”
I knew the photos would be out there somewhere. The internet lasts forever. I’d decided that I’d live with it, but that was before my dad came back with his demands and expectations.
No longer hungry, I tossed my plate in the trashcan. “What do you want, Noah?”
“I know we agreed to no kissing or physical intimacy, but if you want me to keep your father’s sketchy background from my dad, I’m going to need a little bit more from you.”
I crossed my arms, hoping it’d keep my heart from bursting out of my chest. I asked quietly, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m sick of my father looking at me like I’m a failure, and you fit every qualification he has. Pretty, smart, sweet, polite. You’re like Jackie O but without the Catholicism.”
“Noah, I’m not going to be blackmailed by you.”
“It’s not blackmail if we’re both getting something out of it. Your father will not only get his funding but he’ll think you’ve got the perfect boyfriend.” He smiled boyishly. “I’ll get them off my back and have the chance to show you off.”
“No.”
“Don’t be so quick. Think about it. I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide.”
“You want me to spend the rest of the day and pretend like this isn’t happening?”
“If you leave now, the game will be ruined and my father will have a million questions. Not to mention my mother will be crushed.” He looked over my shoulder and smiled at the woman I knew was behind me passing out pieces of pie. He shifted his gaze back to me. “There’s no way it won’t get back to your father that you vanished in the middle of the day.”
This kid was good. He’d give my father a run for his money. He raised his eyebrows. “Are we good?”
It took everything I had not to strangle him, but I didn’t. I gritted out the words, “Yes, we’re good,” before plastering a smile on my face. Noah’s hand landed low on my back again and I fought off a tremor of repulsion. I’d been blackmailed before, harassed and victimized, but something about this, doing it with a smile on my face, was the worst it’d ever been. I had no idea why I thought my past could stay behind me, that the bad decisions I made would ever fade.
More than ever, I believed I was cursed to repeat the sins of the past over and over again.
21
I made it through the remainder of the tailgate and game without losing it completely. Oliver texted mid-afternoon. He and Jackson were at an exhibition game down at State.
Hey babe, how’s it going?
I stared at my phone, trying to figure out what words to say. Come get me? Help? I’ve done it again?
Instead I type, Good. We’re winning by 3
We’re on the bus headed back. See you tonight
Noah’s hand curled around my waist. With my left hand I pried his fingers off but he smiled at me, knowing and loving that he had the upper hand.
Too tired. Maybe tomorrow?
K-Text when you get to the dorm.
Love you.
Same
“Heaven, would you like to join us post-game? I brought dessert.”
More? We’d already had pie and she doled out cake as well. How did this woman stay stick-thin?
“It’s been a long day,” I told her. “Thank you so much for having me, but I really think I should head back to the dorm. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
She smiled approvingly and gave me a hug. Mr. Hancock clasped my hand and told me how nice it was to meet me. I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered over my chest for a few seconds too long. Noah hovered nearby like a prison guard waiting for me to make a break for it. He wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll come back after I drop Heaven off,” Noah said. He linked his sticky hand with mine and I forced myself not to fight it until we were out of sight. Then I shook him loose.
“Don’t touch me.” The rage from the day had built into something I could no longer contain. “This whole thing is insane, Noah. I don’t think you’re really a dick. You’re just desperate to please your father.”
“And you’re not?”
I stopped outside Stetson Hall, having no intention of asking him in. He touched my chin and I shifted away.
“We made a deal,” he said quietly.
“You reneged on our deal.”
“This is business. Rules are renegotiated all the time.” His eyes zeroed in on my lips and his hand reached for my hip.
“Don’t,” I whispered. Not wanting to make a scene.
He didn’t stop, leaning in to brush his lips against mine. I twisted my head and he caught me on the cheek. With both hands I pushed him away and ran to the door.
“Night, Heaven,” he said loudly. “I had a great time.”
I didn’t breathe until I was in my suite with the door shut and locked.
Thankfully no one was home, and I stripped down and got in the shower, desperate to wash the day away.
My phone rang before I was dry. I wrapped the towel around me and answered.
“Hello?”
“Heaven!”
“Hi, Mom.” I sat on the bed in my room. It was only 9 p.m. but it felt way later.
“You okay? You sound funny.”
“I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long day.”
“How was the game?” she asked. My mother never seemed interested in my high school days, but now that I’m in college and a hundred miles away, she found time?
“It was fun. We won.”
“And Noah? How was he?” She said his name in a flirty way.
“Noah was okay.” I fight to add some enthusiasm but it was hard—if not impossible.
“You don’t like him?” she asked and a light bulb went off in my brain. Maybe this was the universe intervening. I could tell my mom about Noah and she’d get it.
“Noah is—”
“Your father is so excited you two have linked up,” she gushed, interrupting. “This fundraising deal at the church is huge and could really solidify
him back in good graces with the head pastor. Your dad is really good at reaching out to people in the community and your involvement in connecting him with the Hancocks has really helped. He already spoke to Mr. Hancock today. He was impressed by you and said his son is smitten.”
“Mom—” I tried to interject.
“Things are so different this time. Everything is above board. The job, the house…us. He’s been really great to me, Heaven. So much more attentive and transparent about his work—his mission. I know he’s pleased with the strides you two have made as well.”
I swallowed over the lump forming in my throat. “So things are going well?”
Her excitement shifted to something else. Something hopeful. “Really well, Heaven. It’s like it was before the trouble—back when you were little and we were all happy.”
“Mom, that’s great, but you’ve got to remember…”
“I remember,” she snapped. “I remember working double shifts and coming home to find you spiraling out of control. I remember the medical bills and doing it all alone. Finding that garbage about you on the internet—learning how bad of a mother I’d been.”
“That’s not true. You’re a great mom,” I said, feeling the weight of the day crashing down. “I’m just scared he’ll hurt you again.”
“I need someone in my life, Heaven. I love your father and I’m willing to take a risk on him. I think you should, too.”
I nodded even though my mother couldn’t see me, but if I spoke I’d probably break down. My mom was right. I’d put her through hell and back and it was her time to be happy. She’d given me that when she backed off about the guys. I understood what needing support was like. I got it.
“I still haven’t told your dad about the boys and what they mean to you, but he isn’t wrong about finding a nice boy with a good family. One boy, Heaven. You needed them in school but you’ve grown so much since then. I think you’re ready to live a functional, normal, Christian life. Don’t you?”
I pushed the lie. “Yes.”
“Noah seems like the perfect way to start.”
I didn’t reply and she didn’t seem to care, heading into reminders about fall break coming up and my return home. It’d be the first time we’d spend as a family again and she couldn’t wait.
I hung up the phone when she finished and texted Noah.
Fall break.
What?
I’ll play this game until fall break. Your rules. But after that we come up with an amicable breakup and my father gets the funding.
There was a pause before he responded.
Ok. I can make that work. But you don’t get to play that game like you did today. You’re all in when we’re in public.
Ok.
I tossed the phone on the desk and got into bed.
Over the next few days I sunk into a familiar mode. Functional on the outside, crumbling on the inside.
Monday morning started with a text from Noah, informing me of where we’d meet that day and when, with an added note of clothing suggestions and how to wear my hair.
Oh and a little lipstick would be nice.
In biology, Anderson noticed the hair first, eyes lingering over the bouncy waves that took me an extra hour that morning. It was the typical, “long-hair-girl” style, one Amber and I often mocked for being the most safe and unoriginal by our peers.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for my leg to squeeze. I shifted, keeping an eye on everyone around me. Ruthie sat in the front row, ignoring us for once, but with what Noah told me about his father’s spies, I no longer could be sure. “You okay?”
I evaded the question. “How was your meet? I’m sorry I missed your text Saturday night. I crashed.”
“Eh, I did okay. No records or anything,” he said. “I think I missed my lucky charm.” He glanced down at the twin-set sweater and jeans. Amber had the sweater set in her closet, part of her retro flair. “You look different.”
“I was in a rush.” Which was the biggest lie. It took me hours to get ready, feeling the added pressure of pleasing Noah’s whims.
“Heaven.” He frowned. “What’s going on?”
The professor walked in and I opened my laptop, using it as an excuse to avoid Anderson. He knew me well—better than most—and I’d crack if he pushed me too hard. I flashed him what I hoped was a convincing grin. “I’m fine, babe. Just a busy weekend and this week looks like a monster. Hopefully it will calm down after mid-terms.”
Fall break. That’s what I had to get to. Fall break and everything would go back to normal.
22
Anderson
“Something’s wrong with her.” I’d run into Oliver and Hayden outside the student center.
The change had been slow but distinct over the past few days. Each time I saw her, Heaven seemed different. At first it was her affect, the way she carried herself and the fact she’d stopped flirting all around. Heaven always flirted with me, even when she was busting my balls.
Then it shifted to her clothing. My girl was hot even just in a hoodie and baggy jeans. But when she’d shed that style and moved to the curve-revealing, cleavage-exposing outfits of the last year, she’d gained so much confidence. Heaven was like a caterpillar turned into a butterfly. Cute and fuzzy before, breathtaking after.
I didn’t know how to explain what was going on this week or exactly what the difference was. She still looked gorgeous, but also tired. Her outfits lacked the spunk of her middle-fingered fuck you. Instead it was sweaters and conservative jeans. Sensible shoes and not a trace of the sexy boots she routinely wore to class to drive me wild.
Something was off and I was determined to figure out what.
Oliver frowned. “Do you think she’s depressed again? I know the stuff with her dad has been bothering her.”
The idea terrified me and had definitely crossed my mind. She’d worn long sleeves all week. “I don’t know, but I think we should keep an eye on her.”
“How long has it been going on?” Oliver asked.
“A week? Maybe two?”
“We went to the library last Tuesday. I helped her with Spanish. She seemed okay then.”
That was good to know.
“What about you?” I asked Hayden. His eyes had darkened and I noticed his fist balled tight. “What?”
“Last Saturday she and I were together.”
“Okay…” Oliver and I looked at one another. “Together how?”
His jaw clenched. “Together together. Things got a little intense.”
I trusted Hayden with my life—he was my brother—but I’d kick his ass if he hurt her. I’d worked into a mid-level fume when Oliver jumped in, “Did something go wrong?
“No,” he said. “I made sure but she wanted to push me and I let her. She was really into it, I swear.”
I grimaced. “Maybe you read the signals wrong. I know she thinks she wants to get adventurous but maybe she’s not as ready as she thinks she is.”
Hayden nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Maybe we can hang out this week? All together. Make sure we’re all on the same page.” Managing a relationship like this was hard. It took commitment from all of us.
“This week is slammed,” Hayden confessed. “We’ve got a game Saturday and Coach is all over us with extra practice and training.”
“Same with us,” Oliver said. “Double-header this weekend.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said. “Text her or call. Drop by. Whatever it takes.” I pinned Hayden with a stare. “And make sure you’re good.”
He nodded and looked up at the clocktower over the student center. “Shit, I gotta run.”
“Me, too.” Oliver said.
I watched them go and started back to my room. I had the next few hours free. We’d come a long way since the start of our relationship. I didn’t want to lose it now.
23
Noah waited for me outside my Psych class with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He carried hims
elf with a confidence I didn’t recall from before and I wondered for a brief moment if he was a vampire, sucking away my energy and taking it for himself.
Maybe not a vampire—not cute enough, but he definitely was a parasite.
“Hey babe,” he said, using the term her boys called her. It made her skin crawl but one thing she noticed about Noah was that the more she pushed back, the more he continued. He eyed her outfit. “You look amazing.”
“I look like a Stepford Wife.”
He reached for my hand and I let him take it.
“I knew your hair would look good like that.”
I shook my head. “Why do you care what my hair looks like? Or my clothes?”
“Because we’re trying to convey an image here, Heaven.” He pulled me against his side and directed me down the path between buildings. “You’re the sweet, virginal co-ed. I’m the dedicated, hardworking Christian.”
I squirmed away but he held tight. “Gross, Noah. No one thinks that but you.”
“You don’t think so?” he asked, glancing around us. Sure enough, even though we were on a huge campus a few people seemed to be watching us.
“Why do they even care?” None of it made sense to me.
“People are nosy, but I’d think you’d know that from your past online exposure.”
I stopped and this time moved away from his body. “Noah, what happened to me in high school is a long, complicated story. It involves a prank, more pranks, and a sexual predator going to jail. I don’t think that’s a game plan you want to emulate.”
He stepped forward. “Kiss me.”
I frowned. “What?”
“Kiss me. Or I call my dad.”
His brown eyes carried a darkness I didn’t want to test. I leaned into him and went for his cheek, planning a chaste peck. He caught me, pulling me close and slammed his mouth into mine. The kiss was too hard, his tongue demanding. I dropped my chin and turned my neck to get away. “Needs a little work,” he said in my ear. “Meet me at the University Church tomorrow night at six. We’re having a dinner.”