Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love)

Home > Other > Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love) > Page 12
Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love) Page 12

by Anne-Marie Meyer


  For a moment, it seemed as if he were leaning closer. Like I’d seen him do twice before. And I wanted him to. I wanted—no needed—him to kiss me.

  “Yeah!” Cori screamed, breaking the connection between us. She wrapped both arms around us and jumped up and down. “Now, let’s go get pretty.” She reached up and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the Bippity Bobbity Boutique, where we disappeared inside.

  The last glimpse I had of Tyson, he had a contemplative expression on his face as he stood under the Rapunzel statue, watching us go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After enough hairspray and bobby pins to last me a lifetime, Cori and I emerged from the boutique covered in glitter and taffeta. Thankfully—and much to Cori’s dismay—they did not have princess costumes for adults. Apparently, it was frowned upon.

  After her mini tantrum in the store, we picked out her Belle costume, and that seemed to appease her. I couldn’t talk her out of my getting a makeover, however. That was one persistent girl.

  I paid, and we headed off to find Tyson. He was sitting next to Maurice’s Treats eating a bagel-twisty thing. When he saw us, his eyes widened. He stood and cleared his throat as he dumped the rest of his food into the nearby garbage.

  “What happened to Cori? All I see is Belle.” He searched around, looking for her.

  She giggled and pulled on his hand. “I’m right here, Ty.”

  He continued to search for a few more seconds before he glanced at her. “Oh, there you are.” He bent down, scooped her up, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  I watched, secretly hoping Cori would insist that he do the same to me. Then my stomach flipped, and I pushed that thought from my mind.

  “They didn’t have dresses for Tiny,” she said, pushing out her bottom lip.

  His gaze made its way over to me, and he smiled. “But I see they did your makeup.”

  I tugged at the curls that framed my face. “Yeah. Your sister is very persistent.”

  He laughed. “That’s one way to classify her.” He pulled Cori close and looked her in the eye. “Wanna go meet the princesses now?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  We walked over to the entrance of the Royal Hall and waited while a man in a purple costume, complete with a feathered hat, held up his hand. The sign out front read, 15 minute wait. I stood by, listening to Cori recount every detail of the boutique to Tyson.

  He nodded and smiled. I could tell he wasn’t that interested in what she was saying, but he was a good brother. He cared about her so much that it made my heart hurt.

  I felt bad for how I’d treated Dad. Sure, he could be a dork and didn’t handle situations the best, but he was my dad. The only family I had. And if there was one thing Tyson had taught me, family was everything. It was our responsibility to protect each other no matter what.

  I must have been staring at him because he raised his eyebrows. “Do I have something on my face?”

  I blinked a few times and then shook my head. Heat rose to my cheeks. “No, sorry.”

  He chuckled as the costumed man waved us in. We rounded a wood divider and Cori squealed as Cinderella came into view. The princess dipped down and wrapped her arms around Cori, who stood there with her eyes wide, listening to Cinderella’s questions.

  “You just helped me realize how important family is,” I said, leaning closer to Tyson. He smelled so good. Like the woods after it rained.

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. Dad and I fought earlier. Apparently, he’s upset that there were guys at the party last night. I told him he could trust me, but you know how he is.”

  Tyson winced and nodded. “Yeah. He’s a little extreme.”

  Cori took a picture with Cinderella and then took off around the corner. We chased her down just to find her hugging Sleeping Beauty.

  Tyson was quiet, so I glanced over at him. He was watching Cori with a contemplative look. My stomach squeezed. I didn’t like his expression, and I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking about.

  “Hey, Tiny,” he said, leaning toward me.

  I cleared my throat. I wanted to tell him to be quiet. To not say the words that I could see were on the tip of his tongue.

  “I think you and I should take a break. It’s not right, us sneaking around like this.” He swallowed as he kept his gaze on Cori. I wondered if he was being a responsible brother or if he just couldn’t meet my gaze.

  I hoped it was the first one. “What?” I asked, the lump had swollen in my throat, making it hard to speak.

  He toed the maroon carpet with his shoe. “If some guy asked Cori to lie and sneak around behind my back, well…” He let his voice trail off as his jaw clenched.

  I bit down the emotions that were rising up in my chest. How could I convince him not to finish that thought? “But it’s ridiculous. The rule is stupid. He can’t control my life like that.” I wanted Tyson to stop talking. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me to stay forever. But those words were not coming. I blinked, hoping to keep the tears from welling up.

  Too late.

  “Tiny, it’s for the best. And what if we continued? How would we explain this?” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “I can’t lose my scholarship. And if he kicks me off the team, it’s gone.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t do that to Cori. I’m her only hope of getting out of the mess that is my mom’s house.”

  I watched as she gleefully took a picture with Sleeping Beauty then took off again. We followed her, this time with much less vigor. I knew what he was saying was true. There was no way Dad would just let this go. He’d punish me and he’d punish Tyson. And for Tyson, it would be much worse.

  So we needed to part ways—before everything fell down around us. For Tyson sake, and Cori’s.

  We spent the rest of our time at Disneyland faking happiness for Cori. She grinned at each princess she got to meet, and she loved the Beauty and the Beast play at the theatre across from the Royal Hall.

  Tyson was a much better faker than me because, numerous times, Cori asked me what was wrong. I forced a smile and told her “nothing,” I was happy I was there. Which I was, I just dreaded what was going to happen when we left. We’d be over.

  Cori. Tyson. They would leave this gaping, gushing, bleeding hole in my heart. And there was no way I could stop it. It was Mom all over again. Leaving me. Abandoning me.

  Despite my desperate plea to the powers that be for the day to slow down, Tyson picked up a very tired Cori and waved toward the exit. “We should get this princess home before she turns into a pumpkin.”

  I nodded and followed after them, carrying her wand and shoes. By the time we got to the car, she’d fallen asleep. Tyson buckled her into her seat and shut her door. I lingered next to the car, not wanting to get in. Was it wrong that I didn’t want this night to end?

  “You okay?” he asked, eyeing me.

  I chewed my lip, keeping my emotions in check. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

  His expression wavered as he began to nod. “Good. I’m glad you’re on board.”

  He pulled open the driver’s door and climbed in.

  I sucked in my breath and blew out every painful emotion that had built up in my chest. I could do this. Couldn’t I?

  It took the whole ride home to discover that I most certainly could not do this. I couldn’t be just friends again. If we were going to end our relationship, I was going to have to cut all ties. Everything.

  “I’ll let Ms. Swallow know she should find you a new partner,” I said as I ran my finger along the window control button.

  Tyson glanced over at me. “You don’t have to do that.”

  I pinched my lips together and nodded. “Yes, I do. I can’t do both. Be around you and not be with you.” I hesitated as I waited to hear what he was going to say. Would he understand what I was trying to tell him?

  But he just nodded his head. “Okay. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

  Knife to the chest. That was not wh
at I wanted to hear. Tyson Blake didn’t care for me like I cared for him. It was going to be over, and in the end, I was the one standing there with a broken heart.

  “Glad you’re on board,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. I wanted to say so much more. Dad was right. The opposite sex was only designed to play with your emotions and then rip your heart out.

  As soon as he pulled into my driveway, I opened the door and hopped out. He started to say something, but I slammed the door on his words. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Whatever noble reason he had for why we couldn’t be together was the last thing I wanted to have occupying my thoughts.

  I wanted to hate him right now. I needed to hate him. If not, I was never going to get through this breakup. I needed to believe that he was a jerk.

  Because deep down, I knew that was a lie.

  I shoved all my feelings for him away and opened the front door. I needed to get my head on straight because, in a few seconds, I’d need to account for the entire day. I knew Dad was not going to be happy if I didn’t tell him what I’d been up to. Preparation was key to keeping Dad in the dark.

  The screen door slammed behind me as I walked into the entryway.

  “Dad,” I called out. “I’m home.”

  No rage machine came from around the corner. In fact, it was creepily quiet. I glanced around. It was past seven. Where was he?

  “Hello?”

  A muffled voice carried from the kitchen. I rounded the corner to see Ms. Swallow standing next to the counter with her phone up to her ear.

  “. . .well, if you hear from her, will you please have her call me?” She hesitated before she nodded. “Yes, that’s my number.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  She turned and her eyes widened. She thanked the other person on the phone and then set it down next to her. “Where have you been?” she asked, stepping toward me.

  I stared at her. Why was she asking where I’d been? It wasn’t like she was my mom or anything. I barely even knew the woman. “Where’s my dad?” I asked, glancing behind her.

  When she didn’t answer, I looked back. There was a look in her eye that told me something was wrong.

  “Ms. Swallow?”

  She took a deep breath. “He’s in the ICU. He was in a car accident.” She wrung her hands together. She was shaking.

  My ears were ringing as I stumbled to a chair by the table and sat down. “He’s what?”

  “We were out this afternoon, and he dropped me off at the door and went to park. There was no parking in the lot, so he went to the road. He was hit by a car that was going too fast as he crossed the street.” Her breathing became shallow as she pinched her eyes shut. “I watched the whole thing.”

  I wanted to vomit. I wanted her to stop talking. My legs, arms, and face felt numb. “Is he going to be okay?” I hesitated. Did I want to know?

  “Yes. He should be fine. He broke his leg and has a major concussion, but the doctors are confident that he will make a full recovery.”

  I stood up, anger coursing through my veins. I was mad at so many things, and right now, most of them boiled down to Ms. Swallow. It was her fault that I had gotten to know Tyson. It was her fault that Dad had been out today and got hurt. And it was her fault that I’d gotten so freaked out, for not telling me right away that he was going to be okay.

  “Next time, lead with that,” I said, standing up and heading toward the side door.

  “Where are you going?” she called after me.

  I shot her an annoyed look. “To see my dad.” I pulled the door open and glanced toward the place Dad normally parked. Nothing.

  “The car’s still at the restaurant. I can take you over there if you want.”

  “Haven’t you done enough?” The words spilled from my lips before I could stop them.

  I saw her wince, and for a moment, I felt bad. Logically, I knew it wasn’t her fault. But I needed someone to blame. She was here, so she was the cause.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I guess you can take me if I have no other choice.” I reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear and felt the crunchiness of the hairspray from my makeover. Crap. I couldn’t go see Dad like this. “Let me wash my face real quick,” I said, slipping up the back stairs. “Bec and I did makeovers,” I called down to her.

  I didn’t need her spilling to Dad who I’d been with.

  When I got to my room, I washed my face and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. Five minutes later, I was back downstairs, where Ms. Swallow was leaning against the kitchen counter.

  I shot her a look as I passed by. “Come on,” I said, waving toward the darkening sky.

  “Hang on,” she said, holding up a finger.

  I stared at her. Why was she doing this? I wanted to see my dad, not stand there and talk to her.

  “You said you were with Rebecca?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She tapped her chin. “That’s interesting, because when I was trying to track you down, I called Rebecca and she said she had no idea where you were.”

  I swallowed. “Well, did you try to call my phone?”

  “Yes. It went straight to your voicemail.”

  I pulled out my phone, and the screen stayed black. Somehow, I’d forgotten to charge it last night. It was dead. I sighed and shoved it back into my purse. “Well, I decided to go to the library to study. They had a face painter there.” I swallowed. This lie was getting worse and worse.

  Ms. Swallow sighed as she unfolded her arms. “Listen, Destiny. I know you’re upset.” She took a step toward me and smiled. “I want you to know that I’m here. You can talk to me if you want. We can be friends.”

  There that word was again. Friends.

  How could I be friends with someone who was not only my teacher but was seeing my dad? And I wasn’t even going to start on how weird it was to think both of those things in one sentence.

  So I forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

  She hesitated and then stepped toward the door. “Alright, let’s go then.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The hospital smelled like sanitizer and plastic. I wrinkled my nose as I walked past the front desk. Ms. Swallow nodded at the woman sitting behind it and motioned toward the hall.

  They must have known each other because all she got was a courtesy wave before the woman returned to the computer on her desk.

  I let Ms. Swallow lead me down the hallway. She hesitated in front of room 43B. I studied it as she reached up and knocked.

  The door opened and a nurse came out.

  “Oh, hello. You must be Josh’s wife and”—she glanced around to look at me—“his daughter?”

  I watched as Ms. Swallow’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m not his wife,” she whispered.

  “But I’m his daughter. Can I see him?” I asked, stepping around Ms. Swallow and nodding toward the door.

  The nurse nodded. “Of course.”

  I didn’t wait for Ms. Swallow. Instead, I entered the room. The farther I walked, the slower my gait became. Did I want to see him? Pain gripped my heart as realization sank in.

  I could have lost Dad today. It could have been a lot worse than a broken leg and a concussion. And if he had died, where would I be? With Mom? I scoffed. That was a joke.

  No. If Dad had died, I would be alone. Like alone, alone. As the weight of the day and this realization settled in around me, I felt tears sting my eyes.

  I couldn’t believe that I had been so angry before. I had lied to Dad about where I was going and who I was spending time with. And the stupid part of all of this was that I’d tried to trade the person who cared about me for a guy who dropped me the moment things got hard.

  Dad was right—boys were trouble. All they did was lead you along and then break your heart. From this moment on, I wasn’t going to allow anyone to derail me from what was important. I would never lie to Dad about who I was seeing. I would be upfront and honest. Always.

  The clicking of th
e machines grew louder as I passed the bathroom and saw Dad lying on the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in a bandage. His left leg was raised higher than the other, propped up on a pillow. I sucked in my breath as I studied the white gauze on his leg.

  Half his face was scuffed up and puffy. Like he’d landed on it. His eyes were closed, and I contemplated turning around and leaving him to sleep.

  If I were honest with myself, I was being a little selfish. I didn’t want to see him like this. It broke my heart, even more than it already was. Why hadn’t I just gone with him to Pirate’s Cove? He wouldn’t have been with Ms. Swallow. He wouldn’t have been in the crosswalk, where that jerk hit him.

  Even though I was inclined to blame myself, when I really thought about it, it was all Ms. Swallow’s fault. Why had she even called Dad in the first place? And who had picked that restaurant?

  I turned to glare at her as she walked in and touched Dad’s arm, the arm that had an IV sticking out of it.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, wincing at the bite in my tone.

  If I’d learned anything these past few days, it was that Dad and I were better off alone. All we needed was each other. He didn’t need Ms. Swallow, and I didn’t need Tyson. If we could just go back to the way things were, I’d be happy, and Dad…well, I’m sure he’d be happy as well.

  Ms. Swallow’s gaze made its way over to me. I must have had a menacing look because her eyes widened. “Your dad wanted me to bring you here,” she said, her voice low, as if she’d felt the full weight of my accusation without me having to say anything.

  I felt like I should smile and say it was fine, that she could totally stay. Instead, I opened my mouth and said, “Well, you did that. You can go home now.”

  I couldn’t meet her gaze, so I focused on grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it toward Dad’s bed. Once I’d settled in, I glanced over to where she still stood.

  She’d dropped her attention back to Dad’s face. His eyes were still closed. That man could sleep through an alien invasion. Her fingers still lingered on his arm, and for some reason, that really bugged me.

 

‹ Prev