Mallory lifted her head, locking onto me like a missile. “I’m not good at this. At friends.”
“You seem to be fine around those other girls. And with Hipster…your boyfriend?”
“My… What’re you talking about?” Her eyebrows furrowed together, creating a mini Grand Canyon between them.
“Faux hawk dude.” I ran my hand over my head as if that explained the hair.
Her face brightened. “You must mean Chandler.”
Chandler? He even has a hipster name. I kept my face relaxed, grateful the ability to read minds stayed in comics.
“Chandler’s just another education major. We’re…acquaintances.”
“Not friends?” I tapped my fingers on the table in a poor attempt not to show how happy this new information made me.
“I don’t have a lot of friends, Aaron.” Mallory slouched in her seat. “Not like you mean. Most of the people you’ve seen me with are just in my classes, and we sometimes study together.”
“You do fine around me,” I encouraged.
She huffed. “I’m tutoring you. Study buddies.”
“Then why teach?”
“I told you, I want to share what I know, and I want to teach college. But I need to get a job to get through the master’s and doctorate programs.” With a huge sigh, Mallory sat up and squeezed her hands together. “Tutoring won’t pay enough for that.”
“You’re a great teacher. I watched you… That sounds creepy, but I got here early that one day we were going to meet, and I saw you with the freshmen comp kids. You were amazing.” She smiled, and I took that as a sign to push a little. “Come with me to the lounge. I’ll eat, you tutor. If you feel like eating, great. If not, that’s fine, too. If you decide you can’t stand being around me in public, then you can leave and it won’t hurt my feelings. No commitment. No worries. Nothing you don’t want to do.” I moved to the edge of my chair, ready to throw it all out there. “I really like you, Mallory. You don’t put up with my bullshit. I don’t have enough people in my life like that. If that means I can only be your friend, I’m okay with it. But I’d like to be something, anything you want me to be. We can take our time. Get to really know each other.”
The debate waged in her eyes as she stared at me. I didn’t look away. She needed to know I wasn’t lying to her. If she couldn’t be anything more than my tutor, I’d take another history class and fail it. Just to hang around her. Mallory made me smile. She made me laugh. I liked how easy she was to hang out with. No pretensions. No ideals to live up to.
“Okay,” she said. “But no promises.”
The grin exploding on my face could’ve lit the plains of Africa. “No promises.”
We gathered our books and waited for the elevator in silence. When the doors dinged, the memory of the last time we were inside it rushed to my head. The feel of her lips on mine, her hands on my shoulders. I shook it off. Maybe I’d get to taste her lip gloss again, but not now. And it would have to be her move, not mine.
“And I like you, too,” she said. “You’re not the jackass I expected you to be.”
“Thanks.” I grinned and glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes. “I think.”
The doors closed and the agonizing descent began. We both stared forward at the carnival mirrors. I watched her reflection in the unpolished chrome. She rocked on her feet, a move I already knew meant she was nervous and maybe even a little scared.
“I never see you around campus at night,” I said in order to start a conversation that didn’t revolve around baseball or history.
She sucked her lip into her mouth. God, I wanted to suck it back out. “I live off campus.”
“Student housing?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyebrows furrowed for several minutes before she elaborated. “My grandmother’s house. When she left to take care of Aunt Chrissy, she planned on being gone for a month at the most. It’s been three years.” She took a deep breath as the elevator stuttered to a stop. “What about you?”
“Um, I’m in Donaldson Hall.”
“That’s right, the athletic dorm.”
“Yeah, the athletes-live-on-campus rule sucks, but it’s cool that my teammates aren’t far away. History lesson for you.” Mallory raised her eyebrows. “That rule was enacted a few years after my dad fell down the steps at his frat. Blew out his knee and ruined his playing career.”
She squinted at me. “Is that true?”
“Every last word. Keeping the athletes on campus made it easier to enforce the curfews, too. Dad’s accident was just the first in a string of events that led to the rule change.” I tried to catch her eyes in the reflection. The elevator lurched again, heading down to the first floor. “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”
Mallory laughed, and my heart swelled. I needed to hear that more. I needed to be the one to make that happen again. And it made me want to hear her moan beneath me. My body responded in its natural way, and I tried to put out the fire by thinking about the ethics paper due in a few days.
“How’s your knee?” Mallory asked, thankfully distracting me from my horny thoughts.
“It hurts, but it’s getting better, I think.” I leaned against the wall, wishing I hadn’t lied. My chances of playing diminished each day. But she didn’t want to hear any of my personal hell. “My therapist was pissed at me for running to class today. Barry didn’t help. He was more than happy to help her bitch me out.”
Mallory turned to face me as the doors opened to the first floor. She stepped out and waited until I was beside her. “Who’s Barry, and why was he with you?”
“He’s our first baseman. He drove me, since I can’t drive my truck yet.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“It’s a stick shift.”
She furrowed her brow, then nodded as if she got it. “Oh. That was nice of him.”
“Teammates stick together. Like a second family, you know?” I held the door for her as we stepped into the chilly October night.
“Yeah, actually I do.” Mallory clutched her sweater tighter around her chest.
The lounge wasn’t far from the library, but the cold seeped into my skin as soon as the doors closed behind us. We took our time. She led the way at a slow pace, which I suspected she did deliberately. We walked in silence for several minutes when my phone buzzed a text message.
“Shit,” I said as I read it.
Mallory stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What is it? Do you need to go?”
I glanced up at her. Her expressions were so varied that I couldn’t tell what she was really thinking. “No, but I forgot that the World Series starts tonight. I lost track of what day it was. The guys are going to be at the lounge. We don’t have to sit with them, though.”
My gut tightened. She could turn around and walk away. I wouldn’t blame her. She’d made it clear how she felt about the game. I didn’t want to force her to do something she was uncomfortable doing. Mallory’s expression shifted a million times before settling on one that I recognized so well. Determination.
“Okay. I think I can deal with that,” she said.
“Can I ask you another question?” Instinct told me to tiptoe around this subject, but curiosity ruled my brain. “Why don’t you like the game?”
Mallory stopped and faced me. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. This was going to be big. At least for her. When she opened them, the determination tightened the skin around her mouth.
“For a…huge part of my life, it seemed as if that was all anybody cared about. My dad spent more time with the game than he did with me. No matter what I did, what I accomplished, the game came first. I tried but…” Her fingers closed around the silver locket resting on her chest. “Softball… for him, it wasn’t the same.”
“Yeah, I get it.” My gaze shifted away from hers as I confessed something I’d never said to anyone. “My dad…he was heading to the pros before he blew out his leg. He pushed me hard to improve. Don’
t get me wrong, I love baseball. Sometimes, though, it’s like he’s trying to live out his dreams through me.”
Mallory touched my arm, and I stared into her eyes. Her fingers slid down until they wrapped around mine. Her lip quivered as she squeezed then let go.
I smiled, saddened by the fact that this was harder for her than I realized and thrilled that she was making the effort. Chuck, as much as I hated to admit it, had been right. This girl was damaged. I just hoped she wasn’t beyond repair.
Chapter Eleven
Most of the team was already camped out around the TV, watching the pregame show. No surprise there. I checked the time—twenty minutes before the first pitch.
Mallory stayed by my side, almost as if she was terrified to be in a room with this many baseball players. Her eyes darted around, taking in every detail. She clenched her jaw as her gaze settled on the TV. Guilt welled inside me.
“We can go somewhere else if you want,” I whispered just above the noise.
She turned and stared up at me. Her shoulders relaxed as she shook her head. We got our food, three slices of pizza for me and a grilled chicken salad for her, and found a four-person table near the far wall. I expected her to sit on the opposite side, but she took a chair beside me.
I pushed the plastic container with my fork. “Do you always eat salads?”
She considered this for a moment. “No, not always. I usually do here now that I think about it.”
“Why not a burger or pizza?” To make my point, I folded the New York style slice and shoved half in my mouth. Mallory rolled her eyes, but the smile that played at her lips was worth the gluttony. The grease that dripped down my chin made me feel more like the pig I pretended to be.
“The burgers and pizza here are too greasy. I gave up on them about a week after I started classes.” She glanced at my chin. “Apparently, nothing’s changed.”
I grinned back. “Nope. My mom would freak if she knew what I ate around here.”
Mallory tensed, her fork halting for a moment before bringing the lettuce to her mouth. She kept her head down as she chewed. I’d hit a nerve, but the way she diverted her gaze stopped me cold. Instead of asking why she froze, I opted to simply change the subject.
I took a long pull off my water. “So, you’re a senior, but you’re my age, right? How’d you manage that?”
Her shoulders dropped, and she lifted her chin with pride. “I took some basic classes from Madison Community College while I was still in high school and had my Associates the summer after graduation. I’ve been in school pretty much nonstop since then.”
“Really? That’s dedicated.”
She laughed. “I don’t know if it’s dedicated, but with two majors it felt necessary. And I have goals. I mean, I know where I want to go, what I want to do, and how to get there.”
“I get it. My plan’s been derailed lately. I need to take a step back and figure out what my next move is.” I pulled off a slice of pepperoni and popped it in my mouth.
“Besides getting drafted?”
I nodded, chewing the fluffy crust.
“Life doesn’t always go the way we plan, though.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d need to work two jobs even with a full-ride scholarship. But it’s what I have to do.”
“Doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything else,” I said, the rest of my pizza forgotten on my plate. Listening to Mallory talk about her education was like listening to a waterfall in the jungle, relaxing and exciting at once.
“Not really. I make it a point to see my best friends whenever they’re in town. We video chat as much as we can, but our schedules make it hard.” She twirled her lettuce on her fork.
“Where do they live then?” I barely spoke to my best bud in high school. He went to college in Oklahoma and rarely came home. I saw his Facebook and stuff, but that’s not the same as being friends.
“St. Louis and L.A.” She smiled and set the fork down. “Amie always wanted to be an actress. The day after graduation, she hopped in her car and drove to L.A. She’s doing great, too. Last week she shot her first commercial and she’s done some stage work.”
“What about the friend in St. Louis? That’s not too far.” I drummed my fingers on the table, taking in every new detail, letting each piece of the puzzle fall in place.
“Hey, Mallory.” Chandler stopped beside our table. He didn’t even acknowledge me. “Got a minute?”
She turned her eyes toward me. “I’m in the middle of something, Chandler. Can it wait?”
“Oh,” he said, glancing out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call you later. Okay?”
“Or I’ll see you in class.” She smiled politely at him, but returned her gaze back to me.
“Yeah. Class.”
I didn’t see him walk away.
“Sorry. He’s an education major, too. A lot of classes together over the years.” She shrugged and changed the subject.
“You do realize he’s got a thing for you, right?”
“Chandler? No, he doesn’t.” She glanced toward the food line. Chandler waved at her.
I laughed. That guy needed some moves. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice that.”
“Oh, and you did?” Mallory raised her eyebrow in challenge.
“Yep. He’s always trying to touch you in some way. He’s constantly staring at you.” I pointed toward where he stood still staring at us. “Like right now.”
Mallory glanced over her shoulder again, and Chandler smiled at her. She turned back around, her eyes wide.
“Told ya.” I tapped the table. “Let the guy off the hook. He’s got it bad.”
“I never noticed before. He acts like that to a lot of the girls we both know.” She shook her head and started to turn around again.
“Don’t look or he’s going to get the wrong idea.” I leaned forward. “It is the wrong idea, isn’t it?”
Mallory stiffened. “He’s not my type.”
“What is your type then?” I steepled my fingers.
“Someone who knows what they want in life.” Her gaze held mine. “Chandler doesn’t. He’s an education major because he wants summers off.”
That sounded like me, but I kept my response to myself and decided to get her mind off Hipster and back onto safer ground. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book tonight.”
“Just for tonight?” Mallory grinned, Chandler already forgotten. “Okay, I never asked before, but what’s your major?”
“Ah, now mine is boring,” I said, eliciting a wider grin from her. “I’m a business major. My plan is to finish my degree online after I get drafted this summer. Then once my baseball career is done, I’m heading back home to take over the family business.”
“And what’s the family business?”
“My dad owns the largest implement dealership is southeastern Iowa. You name it, we sell it. Tractors, combines, balers. We also customize ’em and fix ’em when they break down.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she considered this. I loved how she took the time to think about our conversations. She didn’t rush in with her opinion or tell me I was stupid. Well, she’d tell me I was wrong about history in a heartbeat, but that was different.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.
“It’s just.” Sighing, she turned her body toward mine. “I’m not trying to be nosy—”
“Friends can be nosy,” I interjected.
Mallory smiled. “Okay then, let me ask you something. Is that what you really want to do or what you’re expected to do?”
I tilted toward her, resting my cheek on my fist. It was something I’d asked myself a lot over the past few weeks. Whether I came back to the same conclusion because that was what was in my head for so long or because I really wanted the future I’d planned was the real question. One I didn’t know the answer to. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know, either. Mallory wanted to know what I thought, what I wanted.
A light blush crept over her
cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“No, it’s okay,” I reassured her. “It’s just that the truth isn’t so easy.”
“You can tell me the truth,” she said, leaning closer.
I shifted so we were facing each other. Her knees rested just inside mine, and our heads bowed together. It was like there was some big secret we were sharing.
“I don’t know.” I inched a little closer to make sure she got my full meaning. “It’s not so simple, is it? But taking over the shop, that’s all I really know. It just makes sense. Up until a month ago, I knew exactly where I was going. Within twenty-four hours, everything changed. It’s not as clear as it used to be, you know.”
“What if you’re meant for something else? Besides baseball or the shop.” Mallory’s eyes never left mine.
I didn’t move, hoping she would be the one to kiss me this time. Something in her eyes made me believe she wanted to. She even shifted her head to the left a little. The hope spun in my chest, but I still didn’t move.
At least not until someone cleared her throat beside us.
Mallory shot away from me like a cheetah. It took all my strength not to drop my head in defeat. I glanced up and wished like hell I was in some terrible nightmare.
“Hey, Aaron.” Trish stood with her hand on her hip and a glare on her face. Unfortunately, Mallory was her target.
“What?” I made my voice as cold and hard as possible. She needed to know she wasn’t welcome anymore.
“Is that any way to treat an old friend?” she asked with added emphasis on the word “friend.”
“We aren’t friends.” I turned my back to her, hoping that she’d get the hint. Mallory glanced over at me, confusion flooding her face.
“Aaron,” Trish said, putting her hand on my shoulder, “we really need to talk. I’ve done some…thinking and—”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Trish,” I said, holding Mallory’s gaze.
Trish dropped all her pretenses and the fake sweet lilt that she used whenever she wanted something. “After all we’ve been through, this is how you’re going to treat me?”
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