by Emma Dalton
Charlie shrugs. “We don’t mind it.”
“You don’t mind it,” Dani corrects. She focuses her attention on me. “But you don’t have to be invisible with us anymore. We see you, Kara.”
I smile. “And I see you.”
And just like that, I’ve found my place. And my people.
Chapter Five
I wring my fingers in my lap as my gaze flicks to the clock on the wall. It’s five to six. Brayden should be here any minute. I wonder if he cares enough about the interview to be on time. I mean, I know for a fact he doesn’t read the Edenbury High Times, so it’s probably the last thing on his mind.
I’ve been home alone since school ended, not that it’s a surprise. Sometimes Dad doesn’t come home until later. Normally, it upsets me, but considering that the hottest guy at school will be gracing this house with his presence, I’m glad Dad’s not here.
I fidget in my spot on the couch, staring at the clock some more. A minute to six. Then six o’clock. He’s still not here. Maybe he forgot? We confirmed the time before he left for practice. I would have stayed to watch like I usually do, but I rushed home to tidy the place up. And I won’t lie and say I didn’t bake cookies. Currently, they’re sitting on the kitchen table, waiting to be scarfed down. I’m not the greatest baker by any means, but this is Mom’s recipe, pretty much the only thing I made with her.
Would Brayden like them?
Nah. I’m sure many girls have baked treats and pastries for him.
I can’t take this stress of waiting anymore and am about to turn on Netflix, when the bell reverberates throughout the house, nearly knocking me to the ceiling.
He’s here. He’s here. Brayden Barrington, at my house.
The bell rings again, shoving my thoughts away. Taking a deep breath and wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I slowly get to my feet and amble to the door. It feels like I’m walking through an endless tunnel until I finally reach the door.
“Yes?” I call.
“It’s Brayden Barrington? I’m here to see Kara Gander?”
A breath I didn’t know I was holding releases from my lungs. It’s not a dream. He actually came.
Sure, he probably cares more about his image and reputation than he does about the paper, but as long as he’s here, that’s all that matters.
“Hello?” he calls.
Right. Focus, Kara.
Clearing my throat and counting to five to try to regulate my breathing and my nerves, I open the door a crack and peek out.
Brayden stands there casually, hands in his pockets, beautiful sandy brown hair swept over his eyes in a messy way that’s oh so sexy. He just has this cool and calm aura around him. Like, he’s chill and laid back and not afraid of anything.
He smiles at me. “Kara, hi. I wasn’t sure I was at the right place.”
I laugh lightly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was uh…cleaning up. I baked cookies for…” My eyes widen. “I mean, cookies for my dad and me. He really likes cookies.”
He grins again. “Who doesn’t? Cookies are my favorite snack in the world. No one beats my mom’s, though. I could eat hers every day of my life and die a happy man.”
I widen the door and he steps inside. “I feel the same way about my mom’s cookies.”
He narrows his eyes, as if studying me. “Chocolate chip?”
I shut the door behind him. “Chocolate chip.”
“Cool. I can’t wait to meet her.” He scans around. “Are your parents home?”
“No, it’s just me.” I gesture toward the couch. “Have a seat and we’ll begin. Do you want a drink?”
He smiles again, his entire face lighting up. Seriously, that smile is doing crazy things to my body right now. Would it be nuts to turn up the air conditioner? Because I’m sure this room will melt any second now that he’s here.
“Sure, a drink would be great. And maybe some of those cookies?”
It’s like he can read my mind, and that sends a jolt through my stomach. “What would you like? Water? Coke?”
“Water is fine, thanks.”
“Okay, just make yourself comfortable and I’ll be back in a second.”
He drops down on the couch and glances around the living room. I watch him, still unable to believe that this guy is in my house. My house. Invisible Girl.
His head turns and our eyes meet. “You okay, Kara?”
The way he says my name? It sends a new swarm of butterflies into my stomach, this one more intense than the last.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be back with the drinks.”
“And cookies,” he reminds me with a chuckle.
I nod and slip into the kitchen, taking a few seconds to collect myself. Then I peek back into the living room and find him texting. A girl probably. A guy like him definitely has the female population at school lined up.
After grabbing two cans of Coke from the fridge and the plate of cookies from the table, I enter the living room. He’s put his phone down and is inspecting the room again.
“Thanks,” he says as I hand him his Coke and place the cookies before him. “These look great.” He doesn’t hesitate to chomp a huge chunk off. “Wow, crunchy and chocolatey. Yum.”
I laugh, my cheeks heating up so strongly it’s like I fell into a furnace. “I’m glad you like them.”
He reaches for another. “I do. They’re amazing. You have to thank your mom for me.”
I tuck some hair behind my ear and shift on the couch. I don’t want to tell him Mom died, and I don’t know why. Am I worried he’ll feel sorry for me?
“Is that your dad?” He pulls me out of my thoughts. Glancing up, I catch him staring at one of the pictures on the wall, of me, Dad, and Mom with our arms wrapped around each other and smiling at the camera. That was taken three years ago when we went to Miami. And two months after that, she died of cancer.
“Yeah.”
“Nigel Gander? Recruiter for Astor University?” he continues.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
He smiles. “That’s really cool. Are you guys close?”
Honestly, I’m a little uncomfortable with his questions. No one has ever asked that before because no one has ever noticed me. The fact that this sexy, popular guy wants to know about my family, it sends me for a whirlwind and I have no clue how to handle it.
He shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s personal. You’re here to interview me, not the other way around. I’m ready to begin.” He holds up his hand. “After one more cookie, if that’s okay?”
I motion with my hand. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He takes a bite. “I’m ready when you are.”
I grab my tablet where I’ve put together some questions and Martina added hers as well. “Okay, as you know we’re writing an article about you for the Edenbury High Times. We want to get to know the school’s pride and joy—our quarterback Brayden Barrington. I’ll ask you questions and you can choose whether or not you want to answer them. If you want to skip a question, just say pass. And if you’re uncomfortable with anything I say, please tell me. If you’d like something to remain off the record, I’ll respect your wishes.”
He nods slowly. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest.”
I lift a brow. “No one has ever interviewed you before?”
He shakes his head. “But I’m also excited. Does the newspaper reach anyone outside of school?”
“Um…not really. We’re very small and hardly anyone reads us.”
“Oh, that sucks. You guys probably work so hard and you don’t get recognized for it.”
I just stare at him with my jaw practically sweeping the floor. That’s what I’ve been complaining about since I joined the paper two years ago. We do work hard. We put our minds, bodies, and souls into the paper, but it just ends up on the floor, stepped on, kicked around, a place for kids to stick their gum on.
“Well, I mean, yeah. But you work hard, too. I know it’s not easy being the quarterback.” I clear my throat. �
��Anyway, let’s start.” I press the record button on my phone. “Hi, Brayden, thanks for joining me. Why don’t you tell us how you got interested in football?”
He leans back on the couch. “Sure. My dad loved football ever since he was a little kid. His dream was to play ball in high school, college, and then join a pro team. But he couldn’t follow his dreams. His dad got into an accident when he was twelve and was paralyzed from the neck down. His mom took care of his dad while maintaining a full-time job. Money was tight, so my dad gave up football to get a job and help support his parents and younger siblings. Once he graduated high school, he got a full-time job while studying for college in the evenings. He was never able to fulfill his dream to play pro football.” He pauses for a second, a smile tugging his lips. “When my older brother Brock and I were little, Dad shared his love of football with us. My brother eventually joined his middle school football team and I followed suit. Our family is obsessed with football and Brock wanted to fulfill my dad’s dream for him.” His smile drops and his eyes flash with pain. “But he never could. He died two years ago.”
I nod, my throat tight. I know exactly how he feels, since I lost my mom, too. “I…” I clear my scratchy throat. “I’m really sorry about your brother. He sounds like he was the perfect brother.”
“He was,” he says, so low I can barely hear him. “I’m trying to match up to him, but I don’t know.” He glances down at the phone between us. “Wow, I completely forgot we’re on record.”
“Do you want me to edit any of that out?”
He shakes his head. “Please don’t. I’d like my brother to be remembered for the amazing person he was.”
“He definitely will be.”
He looks at me, so deeply and intensely it’s almost as if he’s looking inside me, reading all my raw emotions. I shift in my seat and his gaze breaks. “Thanks,” he says.
I peer at the tablet for my next set of questions. “How does it feel to be quarterback?”
“Humbling. It’s an amazing opportunity and I’m grateful for every second of it. But I can’t take all the credit for our team’s performance. I wouldn’t be where I am without them.”
“You’re being modest.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. We’re a team and every member is just as important as the quarterback. We lift each other up. Strengthen one another. It’s a brotherhood that runs deeper than blood.”
“That’s really great.” I look at my notes. “What are your interests outside of football?”
He lifts a brow. “You mean when I’m not working out?” He chuckles. “Just kidding.”
My eyes zero in on that broad, strong chest, the muscles flexing every time he breathes. The room has gotten even hotter than it was fifteen minutes ago.
“I like to hang out with friends,” he tells me. “Spend time with my family. We watch football together. I play tea party with my little sister, Bailey.”
“Tea party?” The image of this huge boy bent over a tiny tea table with his little sister flickers in my mind. And a warm feeling rushes through me. I never imagined he’d be into that, but I don’t know anything about him.
He holds up his finger. “But Bailey is adamant that people know she likes to get down and dirty, too. She’d make a killer quarterback one day.”
I smile. “You sound like a wonderful big brother.”
“Thanks. I want to be a good role model for her.”
I blink at him, not believing a word he just said. I assumed he was a stuck-up jock, like all the others. I did have a feeling there was more to him, but I thought I was just convincing myself, painting a picture of a guy who didn’t exist. Now I learn he does exist and man, my massive crush on him has increased tenfold. “That’s so…that’s so sweet.” I glance at the tablet. “Uh…who inspires you?”
“My older brother Brock. Not a day passes where I don’t think about him.”
I give him a sympathetic and understanding smile. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he’s not alone, but I press my lips shut. This isn’t about me. He’s in the spotlight right now.
“And he’s your hero as well?” I ask.
“Definitely.”
I look up at him. “If this gets too much to bear, just tell me and I’ll shift to another topic.”
“I’m all right. Talking about my brother helps, you know?”
I nod, though I don’t really know what he’s referring to. Other than to Dad, I’ve never talked to anyone about my mom. I never had friends.
I think back to the girls I met yesterday at the book club and how excited I am to be part of something. But then I remember I’m in the middle of an interview and I need to focus and be professional.
Brayden spends some time talking more about Brock. I’m not sure I can fit all of this in my article, but I can listen to him talk for hours. It’s like I’m lost in those beautiful eyes.
“Off the record?” he says.
Nodding, I stop recording and give him my full attention. “Everyone expects me to be this confident person, right? Big man on campus and all that. But sometimes, I’m just as scared and worried as any other kid my age. I worry about disappointing my parents, my coach, my teammates, my little sister. And Brock. I worry I’m not living up to him.” He shakes his head, his fingers plowing through his hair. “Sorry about all that. Do you have more questions?”
“A few. Ready to go back on record?”
“Shoot.”
I press record and look at the next question. “If you wouldn’t be doing football, what would you do?”
He rubs his chin. Even that action alone is so sexy and hot I can’t break my gaze away. Brayden could be doing something as simple as drinking coffee and it’d still be the most interesting action on the planet. “Honestly? I have no idea. I grew up with football. I eat, sleep, breathe football. It’s not just something I do. It is me. Ingrained in me. I’m pretty sure if I would be reincarnated a hundred times, each time I’d play football.”
I grin shyly. “And you’d be amazing at it every time. Um…next question…when you’re a hundred years old and are on your deathbed, what would you have liked to have accomplished in your life?”
His eyes seem far away as he ponders this. The only sound in the room is from the ticking clock. Sometimes it bothers me, seems so loud for some reason, but now with Brayden next to me, it’s soothing.
“I would like to think I had a good, happy, satisfying life. I would like to have been a good football player, inspired many little kids to go after what they want. If I were to get married and have kids, I would have wanted to be a good husband and great dad. I would have liked to die a happy man knowing I did good in the world, that I changed people’s lives.”
The more he talks, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper. He’s so…different from what I imagined. So deep, his emotions so raw. He’s not afraid to speak his mind and say how he feels.
I wish I could kiss him right now…
Blinking that thought away, I say, “Amazing, thank you. One last question.” I glance at the one Martina added last minute. “The girls of Edenbury High are dying to know if the star quarterback is single.” As soon as the words are out, I cringe. Why would she put that question there? And force me to ask it? Why????
He smiles so warmly and sexy that I’m literally seconds away from turning into a puddle on the floor. “Yes, I am currently single.”
I read the follow-up question out loud, only because I know Martina will have my head if I don’t. “And how would you describe your perfect woman?”
He glances at the coffee table, eyebrows furrowed. “Someone kind and sweet. Someone I can be myself around, have fun with, chill with. Someone who’s brave enough to be herself and not follow a crowd.” His head lifts and he stares into my eyes. “Someone who will be special to me, someone I can pour my heart out to.”
“And…you haven’t found her yet?” I breathe, unable to control my thumping heart.
&nb
sp; “No,” he whispers, eyes still boring into mine. “But she’s out there.” His voice is so soft it sends tingles all over me. And his words? So darn romantic that I can’t take it anymore. That puddle I’m turning into? Yeah, it just transformed into a lake.
My eyes drop to his lips. They’re so close…look so warm and inviting…
I leap to my feet. “Thanks so much for doing this interview with me.” I hold out my hand.
He glances down at it, then at me. Slowly, he brings his hand closer to mine. But before he has a chance to shake it, I withdraw mine and tuck some hair behind my ears.
He drops his hand. “Thank you for having me.”
I nod a few times because I don’t know what else to do with myself. Then I escort him to the door, where he gives me a large smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kara. Thanks again. You’re a very good interviewer. I was nervous, but you calmed me down and made me feel so comfortable.”
My throat is too clogged to talk, so I just nod and croak. He narrows his eyes at me like he’s not sure why I’m being so weird, but he smiles politely and saunters off, hands in his pockets.
I stare after him until he climbs into his car and speeds off. Shutting the door, I lean against it and shut my eyes. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.
What’s wrong with me?
The knob twists and I yelp as the door opens, nearly sending me crashing into the wall across.
“Kara?” Dad places his hand on my shoulder. “Why are you so jumpy? Did something happen?”
“What? No, of course not. I’m totally fine.” I force a smile. “How was work?”
“Good. You hungry? How about we order takeout tonight? I’m too tired to cook.”
“Sure.”
We settle on Mexican and dig in fifteen minutes later when the food arrives. Dad talks about something football related, but my mind wanders. I replay the interview with Brayden over and over in my head. And each time, my heart skips a beat.
Then I spend the whole night stalking him online instead of working on the article.