Me After You
Page 13
Lily takes a deep breath and exhales. I watch as the white fuzz flies with the breeze.
“Hey… you didn’t make a wish,” she pouts.
“I did,” I assure her. “I just let you blow it away.”
Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could go back in time.
SAWYER
“I’VE GOT MY little brother’s soccer game today,” Alix says when she picks me up. “I told him I would stop by for a little bit before we go shopping.”
“That’s fine,” I say, buckling my seatbelt. “Your mom going to be there?”
“She said she would stop by toward the end.” It’s apparent in Alix’s voice that she doesn’t think she’ll show, but I don’t comment on it. It wouldn’t be anything new for her mom to bail on something like this. Not because she doesn’t care, but because she’s so flighty.
I didn’t realize soccer was such a big deal in Willowhaven. Nearly every elementary aged kid is signed up. There are four different games going on. Alix and I walk to the last marked field and sit on a blanket. Alix’s brother, Brooks, is with all his teammates. When he sees us, he waves with the biggest grin on his face. I peer at Alix and see her return the smile, packing it with as much love as she can.
My eyes wander around the field until they spot the last person I would expect to see there. What confuses me even more is the clipboard in his hand and all the little soccer players huddled around him. He wears a dark blue baseball cap with black Ray-bans and is instructing the boys.
My forehead furrows. “Is Dean one of the soccer coaches?”
Alix shifts her gaze across the field. “Ah man, I didn’t realize Brooks would be playing against his team today.”
“So, you knew that he coached?” The huddle breaks and runs onto the field.
Dean shouts, “Go get ‘em, boys!”
“He’s been doing it for the last couple seasons,” Alix mutters.
Weird. I’m more baffled than annoyed that he’s here. It seems so out of character for him. I knew he liked soccer, but when I attempted to convince him to tryout for the soccer team our senior year you would have thought I asked him to commit murder. Dean and extracurriculars didn't mix. He once told me his after school activities included his bike, music, and me. I get up and find myself walking toward him before I think about what I’m doing.
“Hey, where are you going?” Alix calls, but I don’t answer.
I meander through the parents and onlookers around the soccer field and wind up right next to Dean. He does a double take when he sees me.
“Hey, Sawyer,” he says, perplexed.
“You coach soccer?”
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” He hollers something to one of his little players on the field, but I’m too lost to catch what he’s saying.
“Since when do you know how to coach soccer?”
He peers at me from the corner of his eye, but keeps his focus on the game. “Since always.”
“Well, I knew you liked to play for fun, but I just hadn’t realized you knew it well enough to coach it. And after the last time I saw you on a soccer field I figured you’d want to stay far away.”
He grimaces, but ignores my last comment. “Learn something new every day, don’t ya?” He shouts something to a player named David. “But it’s a league for eight year olds, Sawyer, not professionals. I think I can handle it.”
“I didn’t even know you liked kids.”
He chuckles. “You seem to know very little about me, all things considered.”
“Why do you think I’m so confused?”
“Well, as you said, people change.” He calls out some words of encouragement to a few of his other players. “It’s been six years, Sawyer. There are probably a lot of things about me you don’t know anymore. But I’m not the one dead set on keeping the silent treatment going.” He turns to me. Though sunglasses shield his eyes, I know what his gaze is portraying. It’s smug.
“There’s a difference between the silent treatment and knowing a pointless conversation when you see one. No sense in wasting words on something that won’t change a thing.”
“Is that what you think? That if we have an actual conversation about us that it won’t change a thing?”
“I don’t think. I know. And there is no us. That died a long time ago.”
“Then why are we having this conversation right now?” he counters. I stare at him without a witty retort. He bows his head lower, near my ear and softly says, “Now, who’s scared?”
I shiver. Gritting my teeth against his lure, I walk away. How did I even get myself in that conversation anyway?
“Good talkin’ to ya!” Dean hollers.
My rational thought kicks back in. Why I thought going over and talking to him was a good idea, I don’t know. Carrying on a conversation with him will lead to more frustration and heartache.
“What were you talking about?” Alix asks when I drop down on the blanket next to her.
“Nothing,” I say shortly.
“Looked like a lot more than nothing. Why did you go over to him?”
“I have no idea,” I grumble and watch the players run up and down the green field chasing the black and white ball.
“Seems like a legit reason.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her nodding and I chuckle.
“Shut up.”
I can’t stay focused on the game. My eyes keep straying to Dean. Half of the time he’s watching his players—calling out direction and praise—the other half he’s watching me. He might be wearing sunglasses, but I can tell. His lips turn up in a small smirk every time our gazes meet and I turn away. I want to leave, but I’ve already made Alix do that once because of him, and I can’t do that to Brooks. Alix and I are the only ones here to support him.
We end up staying for the whole game. Brooks’ team wins. They jump and throw their fists in the air as they run off the field, giving each other high fives and fist bumps. I look over to Dean’s team on the opposite side of the field. He high fives every one of his players as they walk off the field with their heads hanging low. As soon as they see his smile, they light up and high five him. He tells them what a good job they did and how proud he is of them. It makes me think about a younger Dean, a Dean who probably never heard those words. My heart flutters rapidly in my chest and tears start to prick my eyes. What the crap is happening to me? I blink to clear them, thankful my sunglasses hide my expression.
When the last player passes him, he looks up and catches me staring. I stand there for a moment in a daze. He looks so handsome, and I want to run to him and hug him for being so sweet with his little players. They lost, and he’s treating them as if they’ve won. He lifts the corner of his mouth up in a crooked smile and my knees buckle. Refusing to smile, I set my jaw and turn to find Alix. She’s hugging her brother and telling him how awesome she thinks he is. I don’t see their mom anywhere in sight. It doesn’t surprise me, and I’m glad we stayed the entire time, even if it meant I had to be in the same place as Dean for an extended period of time.
DEAN
BRADEN IS THE last one off the field. I give him my last high five and pat him on the back. He played really hard today. I know he was trying his best to make that last goal, but it wasn’t meant to be. We’ll get ‘em next time.
When I look up, Sawyer and I get caught in another staring match. If only I knew what she was thinking. It stung a little that she thought I didn’t have it in me to be good with kids. Her surprise was a little insulting. I realize it wasn’t a hot topic of conversation when we were together, but I thought she knew me better than that. And I don’t know why I’m surprised she brought up the last time we were on a soccer field. That was the last mistake I ever made, and my right hand is still struggling with the aftermath. I flex my fingers subconsciously.
Dustin Hale scores the winning goal to break the tie. After the ball hits the net he turns and pounds his chest like thinks he’s Tarzan. “In your face, Preston! You don’t mess with st
ate champs! We will own you!” He does a back flip and pumps his fist in the air. I exhale to keep myself in check and roll my eyes before walking off the field.
“Oh c’mon, Preston, too butt hurt to take the loss like a man? You’re just gonna walk away?”
I toss a wave, but don’t turn to acknowledge him. He doesn’t need any more encouragement to be a prick. “It was just a game, Hale.”
I meet Sawyer on the sidelines where Josh and Aiden are drinking Gatorade to cool down. She offers a small smile. “You were really great out there. I’m impressed. You should have been on the team.”
I shrug. “I just want to play for fun. I’m not much for team sports,” I say and kiss her.
“Hey, Preston,” Dustin hollers. I breathe to keep my cool. I can only imagine what’s coming next. “Did you hear your mom is back?”
My heart leaps, but my stomach has the opposite effect. I keep my face straight, turning to see Dustin smirking, tossing the soccer ball up in the air and catching it as he walks toward us. He’s always been a sore winner, but I don’t know where he’s going with this.
“I thought the way I scored with her last night would top this win, but she didn’t feel nearly this good.”
A dark fog engulfs me. I don’t hear, see, or feel anything around me but my fist meeting Dustin’s face. It all happens within a matter of seconds. One moment I’m standing in front of him, the next I’m kneeling over his body wailing on him. Nothing else plays through my mind expect for retaliation.
Strong arms pull me back as people shout my name. I try to wretch free, but their hold tightens. Sawyer comes into view, but I don’t hear a thing that’s coming out of her mouth. My sights are set on the douchebag being picked up off the ground by his buddies. He wipes his mouth and spits blood, cursing at me, but I don’t hear any of it. I want another shot to tear him to shreds.
“Dean. Dean. Hey.” Sawyer places her small hands on either side of my face. “Hey, look at me. Look at me,” she says carefully, stroking my jaw. “Dean, you with me? Hey.” With my teeth grinding, I breathe through my nose and shift my stare to Sawyer.
Worry spreads across her face, and I blink away my rage.
“Hey, there you are.” She smiles gently as if she didn’t just see me beat the tar out of that kid. “He’s not worth going to jail for. Will you breathe with me?” She inhales through her nose and exhales out her mouth. I watch her take a couple breaths and feel her chest rising and falling against my body, then I imitate the motions. Her brown eyes peer up at me with tenderness, and my anger slowly dissipates.
“I’m sorry,” I say and the solid arms holding me back loosen.
“I’ve got this guys.” She nods to the guys behind me, whom I can only assume are Josh and Aiden. They step back.
She shakes her head at me. “He said some lousy things, but you’re back now.” Her lips press softly against mine. “You scared me there for a minute.” The tone in her voice is meant to be light, but it’s laced with fear.
“I know. I’m sorry.” The shame floods inside of me. She was never supposed to see this side of me. I thought I had it under control for her. It was the pledge I made to myself when we started dating—if I get to have Sawyer in my life, I’d leave fighting behind. My one clean year is now soiled. “Jack, I’m so sorry.”
Sawyer takes my right hand, bringing my knuckles to her mouth and kisses around the broken skin. “Is your hand okay?”
“I just tore that kid apart and you’re worried about my hand?”
“If I had the strength, I would have taught Dustin a lesson for you.” That thought both worries me and amuses me. “Though I don’t necessarily think violence is the answer, I see why what he said broke you.”
Her understanding deepens my shame. I know she’s just trying to make me feel better, and I don’t understand why. She deserves so much better than me. “I promise never again. That was my last fight. Never again will I let that side take hold of me.”
“Okay. I’ll help you. We’ll do this together.”
Sawyer’s long waves cascade over her shoulders, and it takes everything in me to stay on my side of the field. I ache to feel her hands on my face again, to have her look at me the way she used to. My fingers long to run through her hair, to brush it back from her face and take off her sunglasses so I can see all of her. My mouth turns up at the thought.
Her jaw clenches before she severs our connection and walks over to Alix and Brooks. With a sigh, I turn back to my team for our post-game talk. They hold their Gatorade, ready and waiting for some words of advice from their coach. I look over my shoulder at Sawyer once more. She bumps Brooks’ fist with hers and ruffles his hair. Brooks tries dodging her hand and they laugh.
This is how it has to be—living our lives apart.
***
“Hey, sweetie,” Lily greets when I answer my phone. “I’ve got a plumbing issue. Do you think you could come take a look at it?”
“Sure thing. Just let me finish up at work and I’ll head over there.” It’s a little after six. We just closed up.
“Wonderful. Thank you! So, like seven?”
“Yeah. I should probably shower first, too, so like seven-ish.”
“I’ll have some dinner ready for you.”
“Sounds good.”
“I love you,” she says sweetly.
It gets caught in my throat on its way up, but I force it out. “Love you, too.”
When I get to Lily’s the door it’s locked, so I knock. She opens the door with disappointment written all over her features. “Why did you knock? You have a key now, remember?”
I didn’t forget. I didn’t feel comfortable using it. “Right.” I nod. “Guess I’m just not used to that yet.”
“Well, let me close and lock the door so you can use it.”
“Lil, that’s silly.” I step in past her with my tools in hand, placing a kiss on her cheek. She doesn’t conceal her disappointment well. “What’s the problem?”
She recovers and says, “I’m having issues with my kitchen sink. I think it’s the garbage disposal. The water is taking forever to drain.”
She follows me into the kitchen, and I take a look around. I turn on the faucet and run the garbage disposal. I hear the disposal running, but she’s right. It’s not draining properly.
While I do my thing, she busies herself in the kitchen, finishing up dinner. It takes about twenty minutes, but I get everything working as it should. “Good as new.”
“Thanks, hun.” Her arms wrap around my neck, and she kisses me. I kiss her back and search for more. I want to get lost in her touch. There have been countless times where she’s attempted to make me forget—forget my past, forget my dad, forget Sawyer—but it has yet to happen. I wish it could. I wish she could.
After we break apart she gets our dinner together, piling food for me on my plate. We sit down and eat at the round table in the octagonal nook of her kitchen. We’ve done this numerous times before. It should feel like an everyday happening, but I’ve never been able to feel at home in her house. It’s Lily’s house, not mine, no matter how hard I try to imagine us together in it.
“So, I’m going to be doing a little makeover in my house.” She lifts her fork like a wand and waves it around the space. “What color do you think I should do the kitchen?”
I look at the deep red walls around us and feel them closing in on me. “Something lighter, maybe?”
Her eyebrows scrunch together and then she starts to nod. “Yeah… I like that idea. Maybe a pale gray or cream?”
I shrug and take a bit of mashed potatoes. “They both sound good to me.”
“If it was your house, what would you want it to be?”
She’s insinuating more, but I’m not sure what yet. “Umm… I like gray. Gray’s a good color. Goes with everything.”
With a twinkle in her eyes, she smiles. “Maybe a light bluish gray? That could be pretty.”
“Sure.” It’s not my house, so I don’t
really care.
“I want to make this a house you could call home someday.”
Lily and I never talk about someday. I should have assumed with the key this was coming, but I never thought that far. I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around the key I never plan on using.
“I think you have good judgment, Lil. Whatever you like will be perfect.” Making decisions based upon what I think could lead to disaster. I hardly know what tomorrow will bring. I’m barely entertaining the thought that she could be my future. Things can always change.
“But I want your input,” she says, trying to encourage me.
“I gave it to you. I like gray, but for now, this is your house. You might hate gray. Do what you think will look best. I know it’ll look good no matter what.”
That seems to appease her a little, but I can’t erase the disappointment that refuses to leave her eyes. She smiles delicately, and we finish our dinner chatting about mindless subjects that don’t affect our future.
SAWYER
MY PHONE BEGINS to ring, but Alix is with me, so I look at the screen to see who it might be. Blaine’s name flashes across the screen with a picture of him sticking out his tongue at me. I silence it and set it back down.
“Who is it?”
“My brother,” I try to sound casual.
“You still avoiding him?”
“Who says I’m avoiding him?
“The ignore button you just hit.”
“He knows how I’m doing. I’m letting him off the hook. I’m doing him a favor, really. This way he can call and look like the caring brother without having to deal with the baggage. My mom tells him what’s up.”
“Your mom doesn’t know what’s up. I don’t think you know what’s up.”
“Don’t I?”