by Ava Walsh
“Yes. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner.” Margie’s nostrils were flaring again. She wanted to get out, didn’t want to be weakened by his face or what he had to say.
“And I told my friends about what? About you? Why wouldn’t I tell them about you? I didn’t think we were supposed to be a secret.” Lance’s voice was raised again and this time, Margie rolled her eyes.
“Who are you kidding Lance? I know what you told them. I’m sure you all shared a good laugh over it. Did you tell Chloe too? To make her a little jealous and improve the sex?” Margie turned on her heel now. She didn’t want to stay and talk to him anymore. She wasn’t sure what else she might end up saying to him. It wasn’t like her to argue, especially not over something like this.
“Margie, wait!” Lance caught her arm and she turned to see where their skin touched. She felt a sharp electrical surge run up her spine. Despite the circumstances, it was lovely to be touched by him again. She immediately hated herself for feeling that way.
“Please let me go, Lance.” Margie tried to wriggle herself free.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yes, I told my friends about you. So what? And Chloe is just a friend. We dated for a while, but I’m not interested in her anymore.” Lance was pulling her towards him, while she was trying to struggle free.
“You told them about that night too, didn’t you?” Margie hissed. She was hoping nobody else in the library could overhear their conversation now.
“I may have. I may have told Bryan. I’m sorry. Should I not have?” Lance’s face was reddening now as Margie threw her head back and laughed.
“Of course you did. I heard him talking about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get as far away from you as possible.” Margie tugged her arm free off him and started to walk towards the library door. She walked past Mrs. Brown, who threw her a confused and angered look. Clearly, they had been too loud and probably were even overheard.
Lance didn’t call out to her, and Margie was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure how she might have reacted if he did. Instead, she heard his footsteps. Margie quickened her pace, so much so that she was nearly running down the hall towards the front doors of the building.
Lance had still not called out to her, and she continued running. This was not something she had predicted would ever happen to her, that Lance Healy would be chasing her down the library corridors.
She pushed open the front doors and was outside in the warm air. Margie had slowed her pace a little by now and started climbing down the steps. That was when she saw him run right past her. He wasn’t even running after her. He was simply trying to get away from her, just as much as she was trying to get away from him.
He did turn back to look at her for a few seconds, though, just a glance. It was a look of confusion, mixed with rage. She couldn’t be sure what it was exactly. What she was certain of, though, was that Lance was glad it was over. That he didn’t need to pretend anymore.
“Best of luck for the test, Lance!” Margie yelled out, just as he turned away from her. He glanced back towards her again, just as he made the turn towards his frat house. He didn’t smile or wave. He took that as an insult, as if she was making fun of him. He whipped around again and continued jogging. Margie sighed, the tears threatening to stream down her face again.
Did she want him to pass his test and keep his position on the team? She’d taken the books away. Did he deserve the punishment? He could easily go back to the library and take out a few other books. Why was she worrying about him?
Margie walked slowly towards her dorm. No matter what she might try to convince herself with, the truth was that she still cared, despite what Lance thought of her.
That night she went to the college bar with Claire. She dressed up for it too, in a slinky white dress she went out and shopped for that afternoon. She’d splurged on silver stilettos, a sparkly white clutch and even straightened her hair, which had taken hours. Five sticks of lipsticks, in varying shades of bright pink, red and orange, felt like a good investment for her that day. She deserved it, Margie told herself. She deserved it for being the nerd, for always outperforming and now for getting her heart broken.
She’d never been to the bar before. Claire had, and guided her to the counter where they ordered a bottle of cider each.
“I’m not a big drinker, you know,” Margie said, already halfway through the bottle while Claire took her third sip.
“You need it. It’ll help you relax a bit,” Claire said, her eyes flitting around the bar, trying to figure out who was there. Margie followed Claire’s gaze. Nobody looked interesting enough. Or maybe she was just not interested.
“Oh no. Don’t look now, but Lance Jerk Healy just came in,” Claire said, catching Margie’s eye and holding it. Margie couldn’t help but look. She had to look. She’d denied it to herself, but part of the reason she had even agreed to Claire taking her out tonight was because she was hoping she’d bump into Lance, or at least see him from a distance.
Lance came in with a group of three other guys she vaguely recognized from the frat house. Chloe wasn’t with them. She looked away sharply just as Lance’s eyes drifted to the bar counter.
“I think he’s seen me,” Margie said, her heart beating fast.
“Oh yeah. He’s definitely seen you,” Claire said, looking directly at him over Margie’s shoulder.
“Why? Is he coming over?” Margie asked, clutching the bottle of cider close to her chest. She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to talk to him again, hear his voice, feel his skin under her fingers. But she didn’t want to degrade herself at the same time. She wanted him to be jealous. She wanted to make him regret it.
“No. He’s looking at us, though. If you want to make him jealous, now would be a good time,” Claire said, and Margie broke into a loud laugh. She threw her head back and laughed some more, slapping her knee violently.
“What are you doing?” Claire asked, her brows furrowed.
“Trying to make him jealous,” Margie said, still smiling widely.
“By laughing?”
“By having fun,” Margie explained and took a long swing from her bottle. Claire rolled her eyes and looked back at Lance again.
“He’s not looking anymore, so you can stop fake smiling,” Claire said, and Margie’s smile collapsed instantly.
“I’m pathetic,” she said, and Claire turned to her and tried to smile.
“It’ll feel like that for a bit. But you’ll get over it. Avoid those people, stay out of his way. Keep yourself busy,” Claire said, patting her on her shoulder. Margie sighed deeply and bit down on her lip. She was going to break into tears very soon if she didn’t try and get it together.
“Hello, ladies. Do I know you?” They heard a voice. Margie whipped around on the bar stool to find a guy she hadn’t met before smiling at them.
“I don’t. Do you?” Margie asked Claire, who was grinning at the guy.
“I’m Claire.” She stuck out her hand at the guy, who shook it and then turned to Margie.
“And I’m Hank. Art Major,” he said, extending his hand to Margie. She stared down at it, looked at Claire and jumped off her stool.
“I need to go,” she said, grabbing her clutch from the counter and pushing past Claire.
“Margie!” Claire yelled after her, but she wasn’t going to look back. She needed to be alone again. If she was ever going to be able to get over Lance, she would have to do it herself, without the help of any other guy.
Chapter Eight
Margie was walking by herself, her earphones plugged into her ears. It was a day to be happy, she had aced her tests and Lance had passed it too. Not that she admitted she cared, but of course she cared. She’d seen him in class on the day of the test a few days ago and her heart had skipped a beat. He’d seen her too and she was the one who had shied away from the stare. Whatever happened between them, Margie knew he didn’t deserve to be kicked off the team
or the college. He was a smart guy and it seemed like he actually did take her advice and studied.
She felt a tap on her shoulder just as her favorite song came to an end. She whipped around to find Bryan behind her, his hands thrust into his pockets and a big smile on his face. Margie rolled her eyes, pulled out one of the earphones and held it away from her ear.
“What do you want?” she asked him, as he continued to smile.
“How are you, Margie?” Bryan asked, making sure a distance was maintained between them.
“So you know my name now. Good. Again, what do you want?” Just the look of him made her blood boil. She hated him. She wanted to punch his face and wipe that smirk off. Bryan took in a breath and looked away with heavy, lidded eyes, before turning back to her.
“I wanted to have a chat. Congratulations. I heard you topped your business class.” Bryan suddenly stuck out his hand towards her and Margie looked at it with her face scrunched up.
“Are you kidding me? You can’t have stopped me in my tracks to congratulate me. If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m going to walk away.” Margie was about to plug the earphone back in when Bryan put his arm across in front of her, a dramatic gesture to ensure that she didn’t walk away.
“No. No. Okay. I wanted to apologize,” he said, and Margie raised her eyebrows.
“For what?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.
“For what I was saying that day at the game. I know you heard me. And I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for spreading those things about you and Lance,” he said, hanging his head low. Margie could barely believe it.
“Are you serious? What is making you apologize to me? You don't strike me as the kind of person who spends every day counting their sins.” Margie pulled out her other earplug as well and Bryan let a short laugh escape his lips.
“I’m apologizing because Lance told me the truth.” Bryan looked up again and Margie shook her head in further surprise.
“Truth?” she asked.
“About his relationship with you. I’m sorry that I spread gossip based on an assumption.” Bryan sighed. His cheeks were flushed. From the corner of her eye, Margie saw a movement and realized that Lance had appeared from the side. He was leaning against a tree now, his arms crossed across his chest.
She looked over at him and he smiled at her.
“Please leave now, Bryan,” Margie said, without looking at him. She sensed him shrug and leave immediately.
Lance and Margie stood looking at each other for a few seconds before he walked over to her. He looked gorgeous, as ever. His dark brown hair was brushed to the side, falling over his forehead. His green eyes were large and begging for forgiveness.
“Hey,” he said softly. Just his voice was enough to make Margie want to fall straight into his arms.
“Hi,” she said, and he smiled, finally.
“What was that about? Did you force Bryan to apologize to me?” Margie was still confused. She’d been fooled once before, she did not want it to happen again. This time, she was going to get the facts straight.
“Kinda. Especially after he told me what happened at the game. I don’t know why I’m still friends with him after all the shit he’s pulled over the years.” Lance ran his fingers through his hair. His sharp jaw was outlined perfectly by the fading light of the evening, and Margie knew exactly what it felt like to run her finger down it. She gulped and tried to strengthen her resolve again.
“So he just made all of that up?” she asked, and Lance nodded.
“The part about the pity sex. Yeah. Of course I didn’t say that. You should have known I didn’t.” Lance looked her directly in the eye as he spoke and Margie tried to hold his gaze. It was hard to do that and not simply melt into his arms.
“So what had you told him?” she asked. She needed more information.
“That we were intimate. That I didn’t know you well but wanted to get to know you better. Of course he didn’t like it. None of the guys like the sound of it, or that I’m not dating a cheerleader again,” Lance said with a sigh. Margie licked her lips and looked at him, trying to study him closely. Could he be trusted? Was he trying to dupe her again?
“And why did you wait this long to say all this?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Because I wanted to wait until the test was over. Just so that you don’t think that I am actually using you. Now that the test is over, I don’t need you to be my tutor anymore, but I still want to get to know you,” he said and stretched his hand out towards her. Margie looked at his hand, breathed in and slowly placed her own on his open palm. There it was, that electric shock again!
Lance pulled her to him and she rested her hands on his shoulders.
“I can’t believe I’m falling for it again,” Margie said, shaking her head.
“From now on, we’re going to speak our minds and be open about everything. I’m sorry that I caused you pain. You caused me a whole world of hurt that night at the bar,” Lance said with a laugh, and Margie rolled her eyes.
“When I was pretending to laugh and have fun?” She laughed with him.
“That dress was killing me,” he said and tightened his hand around her waist. Margie grazed her lips along his chin now, unable to control herself any longer.
“I can wear it again for you if you like,” she said with a giggle, and Lance kissed her softly on the cheek.
“Please do. But this time, don’t screech at Chloe and ask her to get off you,” Lance said, laughing again. Margie felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed that he knew about that.
“I’m sorry. That happened right after I heard Bryan talking. I had nobody else to take my anger out on,” Margie said, hiding her face on his chest. Lance was stroking her hair as he spoke. She could feel his fingers creeping up her back to trace the shape of her bra strap through the fabric of her clothes.
“Do you want to come to mine this time?” she asked, whispering in his ear, and Lance looked back at her. He was not expecting her to be this forward when she was so shy the last time.
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely.
Chapter Nine
The crowd cheered in waves. The game was being filmed this time by national television and the team supporters who were attending the game had been instructed to cheer in a wave pattern. There were going to be scouts in the bleachers, and Margie’s heart was pounding again. There was no doubt about it, Lance was going to be spotted, handpicked for a National League team.
She was in one of his jerseys, her hair tied up but her curls tumbling down over the back of her neck.
She cheered loudly as Lance kicked the team to victory. Bryan, at the other end of the seats, leaned forward to pass her a smile. Margie nodded in response. She decided she was going to warm to him.
Lance was on the shoulders of his teammates again and he caught her eye. Margie blew him a kiss and he mimed a catch and then rubbed it on his cheeks. Margie’s smile widened and she covered her mouth as she laughed. They’d been together for three months already, college was nearing its end and each day was better and better with him.
She watched as the cheerleaders swarmed the field now and Chloe ran right towards Lance. He leaned in towards her from above, still on top of two of his teammates’ shoulders and gave her a quick hug. Margie felt a jealous tug somewhere at the bottom of her heart, but he looked up immediately towards her and smiled. He was telling her that she had nothing to worry about. Lance was a man very much in love, and he was in love with her.
“He’s proven me wrong.” Claire’s voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Claire’s first game, and she had agreed to accompany Margie after days of pleading.
The buzz in the crowd had caught on to her as well. Claire was standing and clapping now, just like everyone else. Hank, the Arts Major from the bar, was beside her, equally converted on his first attendance of a football game.
“Your boyfriend is quite the performer,” Hank leaned forward to say, a
nd Margie couldn’t help but laugh. She agreed. If there was ever a performer, it was Lance Healy.
People everywhere were blowing horns and waving big foam thumbs in the air, and Margie found confetti stuck to her hair now. This was going to be her life now, she was going to attend his games and watch on proudly as Lance took his team to victory after victory.
“Here she comes.” Claire nudged Margie with her elbow just as Chloe appeared behind them.
“We won!” Chloe shrieked, right into Margie’s ear.
“We did!” Margie said excitedly, and Chloe shocked her with a tight hug.
“What’s the deal with her then?” Claire asked as they watched Chloe walk down the seats towards Bryan and the other guys.
“Nothing. She still hangs around Lance a lot, but she knows she doesn’t really stand a chance with him. She’s kind of nice to me, though. So as long as she doesn’t throw herself at him anymore, I have no complaints,” Margie said with a sigh and a smile.
“You’ll have to deal with that a lot, though,” Claire said, rolling her eyes at Chloe, who was now hugging Bryan tightly. “Fangirls throwing themselves at Lance,” Claire added.
Margie sighed and shrugged. That is what she had signed up for with Lance as a boyfriend, she knew that.
“I consider myself lucky,” she said with another shrug. Claire pointed ahead and Margie turned to look. Lance had broken away from his team and was climbing the short distance through the bleachers towards her now.
“You are very lucky. And he’s a lucky guy to have you,” Claire said, clapping again as the crowd cheered for Lance as he made his way to Margie.
Margie’s heart was beating fast. Lance was coming to her. She was important to him, more than the game and more than the cheers.
“We won!” he said, just as he came up to her and lifted her up in his arms to give her a twirl.
“We won!” she repeated after him and leaned in for a kiss.
“Let’s get out of here?” he asked, gripping her waist tightly.