“You have to eat.”
I push my glasses up. “I’m not hungry.”
He orders two glasses of orange juice and two bagel-and-egg combos, then parks the car. “Here,” he says, placing one of the wrapped bagels on my lap. “Eat.”
I toss it back at him and step out of the car.
“Ashtyn!” Derek calls after me.
I walk down the street, ignoring him.
“Ashtyn!”
He catches up with me. My sunglasses can’t hide the tears streaming down my face.
“What do you want me to say?” He blocks my path. He’s got a tense, frustrated look as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry you and I have this attraction that won’t go away. I’m sorry you want someone who’ll be there for you when nobody else is. I’m sorry I couldn’t just have a one-night stand when I knew you were cryin’ about it. I’m sorry I’m not the guy you want me to be.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry!” I wipe my tears away. I want you to tell me that I mean something to you. But the words won’t come out of my mouth. I’m a coward, afraid of what he’ll say if I tell him how I truly feel. “And I don’t want a stupid bagel as a consolation prize.”
“The bagel wasn’t a consolation prize, Ashtyn,” he argues. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It was breakfast. I was trying to get things back to normal.”
“Normal? Nothing in my life is normal, Derek. But if you want me to fake it, then fine. I’m good at faking shit.” I hold my hands over my heart. “Thank you so much for the bagel,” I say in a fake sweet voice. “I’ll go choke it down right now so you can feel like everything is normal.”
I turn on my heel and walk back to the car. I have nowhere else to go and can’t escape, so I might as well resign myself to the fact that I’m stuck with Derek until we get to Texas.
After we eat in tense silence and I’m done with the bagel, I hold up the empty wrapper. “Satisfied?”
“Not even close,” he says stoically.
He drives me to a field when I tell him I need to get some practice time in. I stretch out and kick my practice balls while Derek leans against his car, texting. He doesn’t offer to help retrieve the balls. Every once in a while he glances my way, but for the most part he couldn’t care less about football or helping me. He’s got his stupid phone held up to his face until I tell him I’m ready to head out.
I drive part of the way while Derek sleeps. When we switch back, I lean my head against the window and fall asleep.
“Ashtyn,” Derek’s deep voice wakes me up. “We’re here.”
I open my eyes, blurry from sleep. Derek gently shakes me again. I blink a few times to focus and notice that Derek is looking down at me with beautiful blue eyes he doesn’t deserve. It’s not fair that he has those eyes, because they confuse girls—confuse me.
Derek pulls up to the front entrance of Elite. My heart starts racing. This is it, everything I’ve been waiting for. Scouts will be here, taking back information to their coaches about who they believe are the best players to recruit. I look around and realize I’m the only girl.
A crowd of parents and teens are scattered across the lawn. Some are in the check-in line and others are laughing and joking around as if they’ve known each other for years.
Derek puts on a baseball cap and sunglasses. He reminds me of a movie star who doesn’t want to be noticed.
He helps grab my luggage. “You gonna be okay?”
I don’t look him in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”
“Listen, I would stay and wait until you get settled, but . . .” He glances at the football players milling around, then pushes the baseball cap farther over his eyes. “I’m gonna head over to my grandmother’s place and see what’s up with her.”
“That’s fine.” I grab my bags out of his grip. “I guess I’ll see you in a week.”
He lets out a sigh. “I guess so.”
It doesn’t escape my mind that he hasn’t touched me since we were in the tent. We’re not arguing like usual, or interacting at all really. We’re just . . . existing. He gives me a small smile.
“Bye, Derek.”
“Bye.” When I start walking away, he takes my elbow and urges me back. “Have fun. Kick some ass and show ’em what you got. You can do this, you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Listen, Ashtyn, I don’t know what to say. Last night—”
I don’t want to hear him say sorry again, so I cut him off. “It’s okay. Just leave.”
He nods slowly. I want to call him back as he gets in his car, to tell him that I need to make things right between us, but I don’t. I can’t. I told him to love me for one night, and he couldn’t.
I watch as Derek’s car drives away and disappears as it turns the corner. Whether I like it or not, I’m on my own.
I straighten my shoulders and move to the end of the check-in line. I’m aware of a couple of stares from players and some parents. I’m a girl playing a boy’s sport, and while my team has gotten used to having a female teammate, some guys don’t believe girls should play football. They think we’re too fragile. I just have to keep my head held high and act like I belong here as much as they do.
Derek’s words echo in my head: You can do this.
A couple of guys in front of me nudge each other, urging their friends to gawk at the lone girl in line. One turns to me and says, “Yo, cheerleading camp is down the block. You’re obviously lost.”
His friends laugh.
I push my duffel farther up on my shoulder. “I’m in the right line.” I cock an eyebrow. “You sure you’re in the right line?”
“Oh, I’m sure, baby.”
I’m about to say some comment back to him when the guy at the registration table calls out, “Next!” and waves me over. “Name?”
I clear my throat. “Ashtyn Parker.”
The guy scans me up and down. “You’re the girl.”
“Yep.” The guy’s a genius.
He hands me a new backpack, a water bottle, and a folder all with the Elite Football logo. “This has your schedule for the week and the key to your dorm room. Uniforms will be given out before practice tomorrow. Make sure you wear your name tag at all times,” he says, slapping a sticker with my name on it on my T-shirt. He places the sticker awkwardly by my neck because he’s obviously uncomfortable placing it anywhere near my chest like all the other players. “Cafeteria is on the first floor of the dorms, right by the lounge.”
“Okay.”
As I walk away, one of the coaches calls me over. “Welcome to Elite, Ashtyn,” he says. “I’m Coach Bennett, the special teams coach. I’ll be working with you this week.”
I shake his hand. “I’m glad to be here, Coach. Thanks for the opportunity.”
“In case you didn’t know, you’re the only female in the program. Since there are no showers designated for women, the showers for the rest of the players will be closed from five to five forty-five a.m. and seven to seven forty-five p.m. so you can have privacy.”
“Got it.”
“One more thing,” he says. “We won’t tolerate sexual harassment of any kind. If you feel harassed at any time, inform me or anyone else on staff. That being said, I hope you have a thick skin. Boys will be boys. Don’t jump the gun, if you know what I mean.”
After the harassment talk, I head to the dorm and find my room at the end of the hall. All the guys have roommates, but I’ve got a single. I drop my bags on the floor and sit on the edge of my bed. There’s a small closet, a window, a twin bed, and a desk. It’s basic, but it’s clean and spider-free. And no Derek. I’ve gotten used to having him around and hearing his voice. Even now, I miss him.
It doesn’t take long for me to put my stuff away. If I were a different girl, I’d sit in my room and hide until tomorrow, when the program officially starts. Instead, I head for the lounge to meet the guys I’m going to be playing with for the next week. I catch sight of Landon sitting with a couple of gu
ys on one of the couches. I don’t have any emotion besides a desire to show him and everyone else here that I’m competitive and I’m here to prove it.
No way I’m letting Landon think I’m intimidated. I’m captain of my team back home and represent them as well. This isn’t just about me. I stand right in front of him. “Hi, Landon.”
He glances at me, gives me a pathetic mumbling “Hi,” then goes back to talking to the guys without introducing me. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me sitting with him, so I find an empty chair on the other side of the lounge. I try to start a conversation with a couple of the guys sitting around me. They give short answers, then walk away like I’m contagious or something.
I’m walking back to my room when I overhear a bunch of guys talking with their door open. If they were my teammates, I’d be sitting with them. I’m an outsider in unfamiliar territory. Why be timid now, when I know being a loner won’t do me any good on the field tomorrow?
I straighten and am about to walk in the room to introduce myself when I hear a guy say, “Did you see that chick in line this morning?”
Another guy gives a short laugh. “That dude McKnight told me she got in the program so they can have a token female. The girl is delusional enough to think she belongs here.”
“She better not be on my team,” one guy says.
The other guys express similar opinions and suddenly I’m not in the mood to make friends.
I rush to my room and throw myself on my bed. Normally I’d be ready to challenge the guys, to show I’m not intimidated by their lack of enthusiasm of having to play with a girl. Right now I don’t feeling like proving myself and feel totally defeated.
For the first time since I got voted captain, I don’t feel like one.
Chapter 41
Derek
I look up at the motorized gate that slowly opens after I announce my arrival over the intercom. Some people would be impressed by my grandmother’s massive estate, but I’m not into flaunting money or status. This house does both.
I park my car in the circular drive and look up at the tall pillars flanking the oversize front door. I’m sweating, and it’s not from the morning sun beating down on me. Meeting my grandmother on her own turf is like facing an unknown team in a playoff game. You can’t really prepare effectively for the game and you’re anxious until it’s over.
A guy wearing a black suit and a serious expression is at the entrance waiting for me. “You with the Secret Service?” I ask, trying to lighten the situation.
He doesn’t seem amused. “Follow me.”
I’m led into the house. The place is filled with high ceilings and large corridors, reminding me of those fancy cribs showcased on television. The staircase is polished metal, and the furniture is overstuffed and likely overpriced, too. The guy in the suit stops in front of a room overlooking the swimming pool in the backyard. It’s filled with white furniture and purple cushions. It’s completely feminine and over-the-top. I wonder if Ashtyn would like it or prefer her lived-in, old furniture back home.
I wanted to stay with her this morning until she was settled in the dorm. That was before I saw a few guys who would have definitely recognized me. I wanted to tell her about my past, but what good would it do? Saying nothing and booking out of there before anyone recognized me was the easy way out and I took it.
I’m looking out the window at the big pool in the backyard, wishing Ashtyn were here with me, when I hear someone come into the room. I turn around and recognize my grandmother right away. She’s wearing a stark white suit, her hair is all poofed up, and her makeup is overdone. I’m taken aback that she’s tan and looks like she just came from a vacation instead of the hospital.
She holds her head high like a queen when approaching her subjects as she walks up to me with her arms outstretched. “Aren’t you going to say hello to your grandmother?”
“Hello, Grandmother,” I say with a deadpan expression. I don’t mask the fact that I’m not her biggest fan, but at least I don’t flinch when she walks closer and gives me one of those fake air kisses.
She holds me at arm’s length. I feel like a bull being assessed, and I’m almost surprised she doesn’t open my mouth to inspect my teeth. “You need a haircut. And new clothes. You look like a pauper in those ripped jeans and T-shirt that I’d no more use as a dishrag than wear on my body.”
“Lucky for you it’s my clothes and not yours.”
She makes a harrumph sound. A lady in a maid’s uniform walks into the room with a silver tray filled with little sandwiches and tea. After she leaves, my grandmother points to one of the wicker couches. “Have a seat and some refreshments.”
I stay standing. “Listen, I hate to state the obvious, but you don’t look like someone on her deathbed. You said you were dyin’.”
She sits on the edge of a chair and takes her time pouring tea into a fancy cup. “Bless your heart. I didn’t exactly say I was dying.”
“You said you were havin’ treatments. You have cancer?”
“No. Sit down. The tea is getting cold.”
“Diabetes?”
“No. The sandwiches are made with cheese imported from the south of France. Try one.”
“Parkinson’s? Lou Gehrig’s disease? A stroke?”
She waves her hand in the air, dismissing all the ailments I listed. “If you must know, I was resting.”
“Resting? You said you were diagnosed. You said seein’ me was your last dyin’ wish.”
“We are all dying, Derek. Every day we’re alive is one day closer to our death. Now sit down before my blood pressure rises.”
“You have a blood pressure problem?”
“You’re about to give me one.” When I don’t move, she sighs heavily. “If you must know, I had a little procedure. I spent some time recovering at a spa in Arizona until the twentieth.”
Procedure? I’ve fallen into a trap and was manipulated into coming here. As she reveals little bits, the truth suddenly dawns on me. I’m a fool. “You had plastic surgery.”
“I’d like to call it going in for a tune-up. You should be familiar with that term, seeing as your father always did like to fiddle with his own cars instead of bring them to a professional.”
“If that’s supposed to be an insult, you’re off the mark.”
“Yes, well . . .” My grandmother looks up at me without an ounce of shame. “What I’m getting at is that it’s not easy to see yourself getting older. You’re my grandson, and the only family I have left. I’ve been a widow for ten years and your mother is gone. You’re the last Worthington.”
“I’m not a Worthington. I’m a Fitzpatrick.”
“Yes, well, that is unfortunate.”
Truth is, she’s so used to acting like Texas royalty I don’t think she realizes how arrogant she sounds. “I don’t think my dad would agree with you.”
She clears her throat as if she’s got something stuck in it. “How is that Army man doing these days?”
“He’s in the Navy.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m sure he’d send his regards, but he’s on a submarine for the next five months.”
“He abandoned his new bride so soon after the wedding? Pity,” she says in a monotone voice. “Derek, sit down. You’re making me nervous. It’s bad enough you won’t cash your trust fund allowance checks and I have to resort to sending you cash.”
“I didn’t ask for a trust fund, or an allowance.” My grandparents set it up when I was born. I think it was their way of luring me to Texas with the hope I’d work for Worthington Industries one day. “By the way, Sunnyside Nursing Home says thank you for your generous donation.”
My grandmother sighs. “I got the thank-you card. I am already a benefactor to many charities. The money is for you, Derek. You might dress like one, but I don’t want you living like a pauper. Now sit down and eat.”
“I’m not hungry. Listen, Grandma, in your letter you said you had somethin’ important to tell me.
Why don’t you just spill it and get it over with, because truthfully this grandson-grandma bonding thing ain’t workin’ for me.”
“You want the truth?”
Duh. I hold up my hands, urging her to come out with it already. I’m ready to leave here and book a hotel for the week.
“I want you to come live with me.” She doesn’t blink and she doesn’t have a smirk on her face. I think the woman is serious. She might not be deathly ill, but she’s obviously delusional.
“Not gonna happen. You’re wastin’ your time.”
“I have a week to change your mind.” She takes a calculated sip of tea, then sets the cup on the table. “You will give me a week, Derek. Won’t you?”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t walk out that door right now.”
“Because it’s what your mother would have wanted.”
Chapter 42
Ashtyn
It’s the first day of practice, where we’ll be assessed and placed onto teams for scrimmages. I wake up when my alarm rings at five and head to the showers. There’s a big sign on the door of the bathroom:
5:00 a.m.–5:45 a.m.
CLOSED FOR FEMALES ONLY
Someone crossed out FEMALES ONLY and wrote FREMONT’S BITCH instead. The words cut deep.
I stand under the hot shower. I want to go home. Maybe Landon was right, that I got accepted to Elite because I’m a girl and they wanted to fill some sort of quota.
What am I doing here?
I leave the bathroom and pull off the sign. I’m not about to tattle for a stupid sign calling me Fremont’s bitch. I’d lose respect for not being able to take a joke. Five guys are already standing in line with towels around their waists, waiting to enter. One of them is Landon. He snickers when I walk past him and says something to the guy standing next to him.
Back in my room, I glance at my cell phone and notice I’ve got five texts.
Jet: Find us a new QB who’ll transfer to Fremont, even if you have to sleep with him! Take one for the team. JK (kind of)
Wild Cards Page 18