by Abbi Glines
I didn’t want her to be my past. That wasn’t even acceptable. We had just begun. Dace had screwed with it. But I missed her. The nightmares that still haunted me at night. Haegan’s lifeless face there in my dreams. I had no one to talk to about them. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Just her. She’d listen. She’d be there. She was who I wanted.
“I gotta go,” I told him, and headed for the exit.
“That’s my boy!” he called out just before I shoved the door open and broke into a run—or the best I could do with my limp. The anxiety began to mount as the fear that I’d waited too long built. She might not be able to forgive me. The kiss I’d seen now seemed pointless compared to never seeing Tallulah again. Never sitting with her and watching her smile. Never holding her against me. Never feeling her hand firmly in mine.
Her parking spot remained empty, and I hated seeing that. I hadn’t realized how I depended on seeing her car there every day until it was gone. I drove faster than I had in a while. I didn’t speed because I wanted to make it there alive. That fear was never going to go away.
When I arrived at her house, I pulled into the driveway behind her car. I didn’t know just yet what I was going to say or if I could even get her to open her door. But I had to try. If she didn’t come to the door, I’d find another way. But I wasn’t leaving here until we’d talked. Until I’d seen her. Until I told her I loved her.
I rang the doorbell and waited. No answer. I knocked. Waited. Nothing. I tried the doorbell again. I pulled my phone out and called her. Got her voice mail immediately. This went on for a good five minutes. Finally I had to come up with another plan. She knew I was out here. She could see my Escalade from any window in her house.
Stepping back, I looked up at her bedroom window and saw the curtain move a little. She was watching. She was here. I tried the doorbell again. Then I stepped back farther, cupped my hands around my mouth, and shouted, “PLEASE, TALLULAH! TALK TO ME! I’M NOT LEAVING UNTIL YOU DO!”
No movement. I waited and looked at the door to see if she’d decided to come on down. But after plenty of time, nothing happened. I was going in. I tried the door and it was locked. So I started working my way around the house, trying each window. Each one was firmly shut and locked. What was wrong with these people? Did they never open their windows?
It took five windows with no luck before I made it around to the back of her house. The back porch was painted like a blue sky with a rainbow across it. Smiling, I shook my head. Her mom was an interesting person. I went onto the porch and tried the door not expecting it to open . . . when it did. I paused and slowly pushed it open. Glancing around, I saw I was in the kitchen. Chocolate chip cookies were on a plate beside the oven. A red cake was displayed on a stand in the middle of the table. And it smelled like heaven in here. I closed the door quietly behind me.
There was a slight chance—okay a good chance—that Tallulah would call the cops on me. I honestly didn’t give a shit. I needed to talk to her. Maybe I could say all I needed before they showed up to cuff me and book me.
I tried to walk as softly as I could. As soon as she knew I was in her house, my time would begin ticking. I was almost to the bottom of the stairs when she rounded the corner, then screamed as her eyes went wide.
Her scream died quickly as she realized it was me standing in her house. She covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at me as if I were insane. Maybe I was. I felt like it. I’d never been desperate enough to break into someone’s house.
“I need to say something. Please listen to me,” I started.
Tallulah had regained her composure and pointed to the front door. “Get out!”
“Just let me—”
“GET OUT!”
“Tallulah, please, just—”
“I SAID TO GET OUT!”
“Did you get my last text?”
“GET OUT!”
“I sent it this morning—”
“GET OUT!”
She made a move toward me now. Both her hands landed on my chest, and she shoved me backward. “I SAID TO GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
I’d never seen her angry. Not like this. Her eyes wild with all kinds of emotions. The pain was there, though. She was hiding it the best she could, but I had looked into those eyes enough to know what I saw.
“LEAVE.” She shoved me back again. This time harder. “MY HOUSE!”
I let her push me. I stumbled back with each shove to my chest. She needed this. Her eyes began to turn glassy. I couldn’t take this anymore. I didn’t give a fuck if she’d kissed the teacher. It was forgiven. I was over it. I would never be able to get over losing her.
“I love you,” I said simply, staring into her eyes, hoping she could see past her pain and anger.
She pushed me again, but this time a sob escaped her. “No! You don’t!”
I reached for her then. My hands gently wrapping around her arms. “Yes. I do. I love you. I miss you.”
She started to shove me again and dropped her hands back down, then began to cry. Her shoulders shaking. My heart broke over and over again with each sound. I hated this. Moving in, I pulled her into my arms and held her as she cried. I had done this to her. Or I’d at least been a part of it. She’d needed me and I’d left her. Turned against her like everyone else.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m begging you for it. I love you, Tallulah. I was hurt, blindsided, and then I saw my friend die. It messed with me. I should have talked to you about it. Not shut you out.”
She sniffled and tilted her head back to look at me. “What did I do that blindsided you?”
I’d texted her. “My text?”
She shook her head. “My phone has been off for almost a week.”
So she’d seen nothing. She didn’t know why I’d closed her out. And she was still letting me hold her right now. That was humbling. It also gave me hope.
“I saw you kiss Dace.”
Love Isn’t Supposed to Turn on You So Easily
CHAPTER 49
TALLULAH
“What?” I was stunned. Out of all the things he was going to say, that wasn’t what I had imagined.
“The day of the accident. I saw you. Haegan was with me. I was coming to find you. Talk after our argument at lunch. And I saw you kiss Dace. But I don’t care. Not anymore. I just want you. I want to be with you. I love you.”
I shook my head and backed up. “You saw me kiss Mr. Dace?” I asked to clarify. Because I had never kissed Mr. Dace. I’d been attacked by the man. What Nash was describing never happened.
“I came to the room, Tallulah. I saw him lean in and kiss you. So, technically, I guess he kissed you.”
I waited for more, but he said nothing. “Did you see what happened next? Where were you when I shoved him off me in complete shock? Or when I ran from the room and he followed me into the women’s restroom? Did you see when he told me he loved me? Were you watching when I begged him to leave me alone?”
His expression said it all. He’d seen nothing but the kiss. He had believed the worst. He hadn’t trusted me. And when I needed him most, he wasn’t there. When I needed him, he had pushed me away.
“Shit, Tallulah,” he whispered. “God, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I saw the kiss. I couldn’t watch it. I was hurt. I left. I didn’t know.”
“And I didn’t know why you shut me out. I have never been as scared as I was when I stood for hours on the street, watching, waiting for anything. Someone to tell me you were alive. That you were okay. All I wanted to do was see you, touch you. Know you were breathing. But you sent me away without a word.”
He sighed and ran his hand over his face. “I’m an idiot.”
“You say you love me, Nash. But I can’t be sure I believe that. Love isn’t supposed to turn on you so easily. Love is supposed to be stronger. Isn’t it?”
We stood there silently staring at each other. I never expected to hear Nash Lee tell me he loved me. He’d broken into my house to do
it. Even when I had shut him out every way I could. But forgiving him. Forgetting what he did, that made me vulnerable.
“I messed up. I can’t apologize enough. If you can’t forgive me, if you can’t love me, please . . . don’t shut me out. I can’t lose you completely. If all I can have is your friendship, then I’ll take it. Just to see you smile at me. To be close to you. If I can have that . . . if it’s all I can have, I will take it.”
I stood there, unable to respond to that. Was he serious? Was that what real love was? To take whatever you could get, even if it hurt you daily? Did I love him that much?
I did.
Losing him had cracked me, then crushed me. I missed him. Just this. Being near him gave me a peace. It shouldn’t. We were throwing it all out there. How we felt. The lies. The truths. The hurt. And still in this moment I had a feeling of being whole. Because he was with me. He was here.
“I had decided it was easier to not know love or experience it than to have it and lose it. Knowing what you lost is more painful than not knowing what you’ve never had. But . . . I think I was wrong.” I sighed and wiped away the tears still on my face before continuing. “I think that knowing love, having the experience, feeling the joy of it, is something everyone should have in life. It’s part of life. It’s what ultimately drives us. We do everything because of love. Knowing how it felt to love you, to be with you, it was there even when I was in a dark place. The memory helped. As much as it hurt, it also got me through.”
Nash’s expression was tense. Almost nervous. Unsure. “Does that mean you’re good with just having the memory? Or do I have a chance? Because I really want a chance, Tallulah. More than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I can stand here and honestly tell you that if I was given a choice right now between my leg being completely healed and my future at football restored, or having your forgiveness and a chance to have your love. I’d choose you. I swear it.”
It was hard to believe that. But his face was so sincere. His eyes now held unshed tears. He’d been hurting too. Differently than me, but he’d been alone in his own way. Fitting in at school, having friends, it didn’t fix everything. We all were alone at some point, even in a crowded room.
“More than football?” I was smiling when I asked.
A slow smile touched his face. “I swear.”
Forgiveness is a choice. It’s taking a chance. It’s making yourself vulnerable. But it’s what you have to do if you want to live a full life. Hiding from it all isn’t living. I know. I’d tried it many times. Not once had I been happy hiding from it. Forgetting is harder. It’s letting go of the armor you put in place. It’s opening yourself back up. It’s the only way to truly be happy.
“I’ve loved you most of my life,” I admitted to him. “For most of it I loved you from afar. I didn’t really know you. But once I got the chance, I quickly fell in love. It was impossible not to.”
He took a step toward me. Cautiously. “Does this mean we aren’t going to just be friends? That I have another chance?” His tone hopeful and achingly sweet.
“Did you actually think we could just be friends?” I asked him, amused.
He shrugged. “No. Not really. But I was grabbing at anything I could. If you only wanted to be my friend, I would have taken it. I’d have scowled at anyone who got close to you. Probably caused problems, made you yell at me.” He was grinning now and stepping closer. “I’d also end up trying to kiss you, and you would slap me in the face.”
Our chests were touching now. My thighs brushed against his. I could smell the mint from his gum as his breath mingled with mine. Being close to him like this made my knees weak. I imagined it always would. Nothing could change that.
“I don’t think I would slap you.” My words came out in a whisper as my gaze dropped to his lips. He had really good lips, especially for a guy.
“No?” he asked as his palm touched my back and he pressed me closer. His mouth was almost on mine.
“Definitely not.” My voice trembled, and then his lips touched mine.
We were both different now. We’d gone through a lot in a short amount of time. But one thing was the same. This was where we belonged. We’d found our perfect fit in an unlikely situation.
Acknowledgments
The first BIG thank you goes to my daughter Annabelle. She answered countless questions about vloggers, gave me vlogs to watch, filled my head full of a world I didn’t realize existed. I was stuck on the story line. In the car one day I mentioned it. Annabelle said, “Put a vlogger in there. It’ll make it interesting.” I went home and did just that. She saved the day . . . or the writer’s block.
My editor, Jennifer Ung. She helped me mold this story into what it has become. I am so very proud of it and thankful to have her on my team. Also I want to mention Mara Anastas, Jodie Hockensmith, Caitlin Sweeny, and the rest of the Simon Pulse team for all their hard work in getting my books out there.
My agent, Jane Dystel, always has my back, and I can trust she’ll support my decisions. Having an agent is like a marriage. I’m thankful I have the best.
When I started writing, I never imagined having a group of readers come together for the sole purpose of supporting me. Abbi’s Army, led by Danielle Lagasse and Vicci Kaighan, humbles me and gives me a place of refuge. When I need my spirits lifted, these ladies are there. I love every one of you.
Last but certainly not least: my family. Without their support I wouldn’t be here. My kids, who understand my deadlines and help around the house. My parents, who have supported me all along. Even when I decided to write steamier stuff. My friends, who don’t hate me because I can’t because my writing is taking over. They are my ultimate support group, and I love them dearly.
Britt Sullivan for listening to me rant, helping me work through story lines, and understanding how moody I can be when writing a book. He’s not only a wonderful father but a man that I am thankful to have by my side.
My readers. I never expected to have so many of you. Thank you for reading my books. For loving them and telling others about them. Without you I wouldn’t be here. It’s that simple.
About the Author
Author photograph by MONICA TUCKER
ABBI GLINES Friday night games marked every important moment of Abbi Glines’s youth. She can remember her first kiss, her first heartbreak, and the first time her crush noticed her—and it all happened during or after a Friday night football game. Now Abbi writes books about football, field parties, and the drama that only happens in high school. She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Sea Breeze, Vincent Boys, Existence, and Rosemary Beach series. She lives on the gulf coast of Alabama with her family. She can be found with her MacBook on the beach, by her pool, and, of course, under the stadium lights on a Friday night.
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/teen
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Abbi-Glines
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thefieldparty.com
Also by Abbi Glines
The Field Party Series
Until Friday Night
Under the Lights
After the Game
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition August 2018
Text copyright © 2018 by Abbi Glines
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Glines, Abbi, author.
Title: Losing the field / by Abbi Glines.
Description: First Simon Pulse hardcover edition. |
New York : Simon Pulse, 2018. | Series: Field party |
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Tallulah Liddell and her longtime crush, Nash Lee, struggle through the summer to overcome emotional wounds—she, overweight, insecure, and angry at being ridiculed by Nash and he, the football star who survives an accident that leaves him lost and bitter—but in spite of their pain, or perhaps because of it, they unexpectedly find themselves falling for each other.