“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“What difference does it make? I’m nothing like Andrew.” He jabbed one accusing finger in my direction. “Because you feel something when you’re with me. And that’s what scares you.”
“Of course it scares me. You go through girls like disposable razors. Why would I want to sign up for that?”
“No girl has ever seen my house. Hung out with my sisters. Met my mother. Not one girl at Washington knows I work my butt off at this hotel. If it looks like I had lots of girlfriends, it’s because I tossed them out before they could see what I really was, where I come from. I never gave myself the luxury of a real relationship. It was never worth it—until you. I’ve never let anyone into my life like I have you.”
“I’m just a means to an end. You pass your class, you graduate.”
“Stop being the girl who tells herself crap like that!”
I shivered against the cold and moved to the edge of the terrace. I couldn’t see the lake, but I heard the distant melody of waves crashing against the rock. “Ridley, I can’t do this anymore.”
“Andrew is not what you want.”
“He’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“You have this plan for your life, right down to this mythical perfect guy. No one is perfect. Not your dad, certainly not me, and not even Andrew Levin. God only knows what hell you saw in your mother’s house, but the life you’re creating for yourself now, it’s making you miserable.”
“Actually I’ve never been happier.”
“Liar.”
“You and I can’t happen.”
“And why is that?” He walked closer, stood behind me. “I want to hear it. From your lips.”
There were too many reasons, so I just narrowed it down to one. “Can you promise me you’d never hurt me?”
“No.”
“Then I have nothing else—”
“But neither can Andrew. Or any man walking this planet.” His hands on my shoulders, Ridley slowly turned me ’til I faced him. “I think in that battered heart of yours, you know I’m right. Just like you know I’d never intentionally hurt you. Want to know how many girls I’ve cheated on? Zero. How many I’ve raised my voice to? Just you.” His gentle hands cupped my face. “Because you make me insane, Harper O’Malley. I think about you a lot—too much. Somehow you became my friend, and we both know . . . something more. It’s complicated, and it’s messy.” His head lowered, and his lips hovered a breath away. “If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be worth the fight.”
My heart pounded, my breath shuddered. Somehow my hands had slinked around to rest on his back.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.
My chin lifted in the tiniest of nods.
“You should ask yourself why.” Ridley’s eyes pierced mine, held my gaze for seconds that stretched into minutes, hours, an eternity. Then finally, finally his mouth lowered . . .
Bypassed my lips.
And whispered in my ear.
“I don’t kiss other people’s girlfriends.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nightmares did not take holidays.
I pushed the sweat-drenched hair from my face and sat up in bed on Thanksgiving morning. I thought when I’d talked to my counselor, my big breakthrough would start mending things. The nightmares would cease. The nagging voices of doubt and derision would go away. I’d be excited for Andrew’s text. Look forward to his phone call.
Ridley told me I needed to stop running. I needed to be done with the meekness.
He was right.
That was exactly what I had to do. It was time to live life on a little more faith and a whole lot less fear.
Trudy stirred beside me, and I rubbed my hand across her happy face. In the right home, dogs had it so easy. No worries, no concerns. They didn't even seem to be too choosy in their mates. Just whoever walked by and smelled right.
For the third night in a row, I had cried myself to sleep, and awakened with my pulse beating triple-time and eyes as puffy as marshmallows. I hadn’t heard from Ridley. Not that I’d expected to. Still, it seemed like there was a vacancy in my heart, and it was a lot of pressure on Andrew to fill it.
Before the dog and I made our way downstairs, I brushed my teeth, threw my hair in a ponytail, and spackled on enough makeup to resemble a funeral home specimen. The concealer hid the dark circles, but my skill with eyeliner was too limited to draw over the swell of my lids. Finally, I spritzed on some perfume because if I was going to look like something the dog puked up, at least I would smell pretty. Thanksgiving was my annual tradition of running goodie bags to the USK athletic dorm, delivering them to the players who stayed on campus instead of going home for the short holiday.
I took all three dogs out, then fed our menagerie. Lazarus the cat hissed at Trudy, but my new dog just wagged her tail, blissfully ignorant of the rejection.
If only I could do the same.
In the kitchen, Mom stood at the oven and pulled out yet another pie.
“Smells good,” I said.
She kissed my cheek. “You’re looking a little rough, sis. Did you sleep last night?”
“Some. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” But didn’t we all? “Permission to have an exception to visit campus this morning?” I hugged my mom to my side and rested my head on her shoulder. “I promise I’ll be back before lunch.”
She rolled her eyes, but not before I saw that smile. “I went ahead and sacked up your care packages.”
“You did that? For me?”
“Twenty-three bags of your cookies, some candy, and a note reminding the boys to call their mamas.”
Just like I would’ve done. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“The best, huh? Then I’m about to graduate to legendary status because your dad and I have decided you can keep Trudy.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” She held up her hand in warning. “But you’ve got to find homes for the other two. We’re not running a petting zoo around here. I’m sick of vacuuming up—”
I stopped her sweet rant with a smacking kiss. “Thank you.”
She held my face, the way she had hundreds of times before. “You have a good heart. You know that?”
“Thanks,” I said. “I hear I get it from you.”
* * *
If I were painting the USK campus today, my palette would require only variations on the color gray. The temperature had slid to a biting forty-five degrees, as if winter was hinting it would soon take its rightful place. I made quick work of the deliveries, as most of the players were anxious to be the first in line for the cafeteria’s special Thanksgiving lunch. I stayed long enough to thank them again for their help with Dwayne, and to tell them hello from their beloved coach. These guys were part of my family, and I would miss them. I could only hope the next place we landed would give us a team just as special.
I saved the best for last, stopping by room 302 on my way out.
When my friend Marcus answered his door, I surprised the both of us by bursting into tears.
“Harper?” He tugged on my hand and pulled me inside. “What’s wrong? Did that creep guy come after you? Did that boyfriend of yours break your heart? You tell me who to punch, and I’ll do it.”
I swished my hands over my eyes like windshield wipers and shook my head. “I’m going to miss you, Marcus.” He was my favorite. Nerdy, sensitive Marcus. A beast on the field and a Renaissance man on campus.
“Did your dad get news?” He pulled out his desk chair and gestured for me to sit.
“No. But it’s coming.” I handed him his care package, which was filled with more cookies than anyone else’s. And a few books. “We won’t be staying.”
“There’s a petition on campus to get him reinstated.”
“It won’t work. Chevy Moncrief has made up his mind.”
Marcus pushed up his ever-sagging glasses. “It’s already gone viral and gotten five thousand signatures.�
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“And that’s what you want? My dad back as coach?”
“It’s what we all want.”
“Why? Why would you take him back after what he did?”
“Because he’s still our Coach O’Malley.” Marcus settled onto his neatly made twin bed. “Do you know he still stops by and checks on our grades? Still rides us about our homework? Last week he gave Vago fifty bucks so he could go home and see his mama this week. Vago hasn’t seen his mom all semester. Two weeks ago he drove groceries all the way to Newton County so Hashish Batra’s grandma would have some food. He still watches our game films and sends us secret messages about what we need to work on.”
“He loves you guys.”
“You’re still mad at him.”
“It’s all very confusing,” I said. “It’s not as simple as your situation, I guess. I don’t need him to restore my team.”
“Don’t you?” Marcus leaned forward, his elbows planted on his legs. “You need him even more than we do, Harper. And it wasn’t an easy decision. The team has met so many times together. We’ve gathered in that commons room downstairs with our bags of chips and Gatorade and hashed it out so many times. We talked about all the things Coach has done for us, all the ways he’s been a father to us. The way he still is. And we also talked about the crap he’s put us through. But in the end, Coach is a good man. I believe that. And we’re standing behind him.”
“Maybe I need a team to talk to,” I said. “All I’ve got are all the fighting voices in my head.”
Marcus reached into his care package and pulled out a cookie. “I’m taking this psychology class, right?”
“The one with all the ridiculous reading?”
“Yeah, but I’ve learned a thing or two. I’ve learned when I get overwhelmed and confused, I focus on what I do know. So tell me—what do you know for sure about your dad?”
“He cheated on my mom.”
“Naw, what else?” He bit into his cookie and gave me a brief smile of approval. “Why was Coach O’Malley the one you went to when your friend Ridley called you about his sick sister?”
I’d shared that story with Marcus on our way to finding Dwayne. “Because I knew my dad would take care of it.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s responsible.”
“Is that all?”
He was seriously channeling a counselor. “Because he’s kind. He’s good with kids. And . . . he’s never turned down a chance to help me.”
“So he’s been there for you?”
“Yes.” A flood of memories washed through my mind. I had few memories without him, where he wasn’t right there. “I guess he’s been there for all of us.”
“When else has your dad been there for you?”
“You know about as well as I do.”
“Humor me and tell me anyway, or I’ll let the team know they should’ve held out for a bigger goodie bag.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. “He goes to court every two years and defends me. He reminds them what happened.” I looked at Marcus’s peeling ceiling as my throat tightened. “He tells my story.” Even when I couldn’t. “When I was little, he got the best legal team in Mississippi for my custody hearing. When I was finally removed from Becky Dallas’s care, he sat in my hospital room for three weeks straight, even though he was needed at his job at Mississippi State. He taught me to ride a bicycle. He taught me to drive. He taught me how to throw a punch if someone ever tried to hurt me again.” And along with my mom and brothers, he taught me to be part of a family. To love someone and receive love in return. “But things might never be the same again.”
“They might not,” Marcus said. “Your dad could mess up again. Maybe your mom does the same. Maybe they divorce. Maybe they don’t. You have to decide if you’re going to cower every time that happens, Harper, or if you’re going to carry on as part of your family. If you’re going to love them, flaws and all, or only on their perfect days. Your brothers don’t get to just cut ties with your dad, so why should you? You’re an O’Malley, right?”
Yes, I was. My mom and dad had made sure of that. “So I’m supposed to be brave and just love people anyway?”
“I think that’s what happy people do,” Marcus said. “People are going to disappoint us all over the place, even the ones we love. Last week Dominic set me up with a girl.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“She was forty-five.” Marcus did a slow shake of his head. “Disappointing. Though she had some excellent tips on retirement planning.”
Any other time, that would’ve made me laugh. But I was too hung up on everything else he’d said. “So I just press on even when I’m scared?”
“Was going to see that Dwayne guy scary?”
“Yes.”
“But you did it. And look how well that turned out.”
“Because I had you guys behind me. I wasn’t alone.”
“You have your own team behind you—your family. And lots of folks wouldn’t have gone after that dude like you did. You were brave, Harper.”
I was?
Maybe . . . maybe I was.
“But Marcus, what if something’s permanently broken in me? I finally got Andrew Levin as my boyfriend, and I don’t feel for him like I should. I’m taking a risk and pushing through that. So why am I so hesitant to be in a relationship with a boy?”
“Easy.” He reached for another cookie and pointed it at me like Harry Potter’s wand. “He’s not the right boy. Any more questions?”
Andrew wasn’t the one for me. Just like that.
Just like that I knew he was right, this football-playing sage. I was so busy trying not to get hurt and trying to date a safe boy, the kind of boy my mother never would’ve gone for. At first I had liked Andrew. On paper, he had made so much sense.
But then life happened.
Ridley happened.
“Ridley’s still a huge risk,” I said. “He could stomp all over my heart.”
“Yeah.” Marcus grinned. “But what if he doesn’t?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Even though I hadn’t been to Andrew’s house before, I knew his neighborhood. I’d cruised through it multiple times, doing drive-bys of Josie Blevins’s house. While I didn’t want to be insane like Becky Dallas, I could own up to an occasional moment of crazy. It was my prerogative as a female. Andrew’s house was a two-story home with beige siding and maroon shutters. It was as tidy and efficient as he was. And like him, no doubt very functional, but also a little plain and boring.
My hands shook as I knocked on his door. I had nothing prepared to say and no idea how to go about breaking up with a boy. If I’d had time, I would’ve Googled it. Written out a plan.
The door opened on a gust of wind, and Andrew appeared wearing his band T-shirt and sweats. His hair was adorably disheveled. “Harper. Hey.” His smile quickly faded when he saw my face. “Come on in.”
I hesitantly stepped inside the small foyer and followed him into the living room.
“My parents are picking up my grandma.” He gestured to a leather couch and sat down on one end. “I think I know what you’re about to tell me.”
My gosh, this maturity crap was so hard. The big baby in me wanted to go back home and text this conversation from the comfort of my bedroom where I didn’t have to see his face.
I eased onto the sofa, sitting on the edge, as if I couldn’t even fully commit to a piece of furniture. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I never meant to be unkind or hurt you.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked away. “But that’s kind of what happened.”
“And I apologize—for how I’ve treated you. Suddenly life just overwhelmed me, and my careful plan got overrun by—”
“Ridley.”
“By my heart,” I said. “I didn’t intend to fall for him.”
Andrew turned his head at those words. “So you are with him?”
“No. He actually wants nothing to do with me. We had a little
. . . disagreement.”
“And I’m tired of being your second choice.”
“I’m through asking you to.” I took in a deep breath, letting my lungs fill with a little bit of the grace I was extending to myself, even if Andrew wouldn’t. “I still think you’re handsome, talented, smart, and incredibly nice. You’re first chair material when it comes to boyfriends, and you deserve to be with someone who puts you first.”
“And that girl’s not going to be you?”
“I liked you so much, still like you, and saw us together. You were exactly what I thought was the ideal guy for me. And then my dad’s scandal was like this meteor that hit my carefully ordered planet and totally knocked everything out of alignment.”
“Are you going to wait on Ridley?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen there.”
“He has a terrible reputation, Harper.”
“He does.” Nobody could argue with that. “Maybe he’s earned some of it, but I know the rest of the story.” And whether or not Ridley ever spoke to me again, I wanted to be with someone who set my spirit on fire and captured my frightened heart in his hands. “I feel terrible for how I’ve handled this, but I want you to know I appreciated how sweet, how patient you were. Some of us girls need that.”
He said nothing, but stared at the patterned rug on the floor.
“I feel so guilty,” I said. “If there’s anything I can say, anything I can do—”
With a faint smile, Andrew lifted his head. “You could give me your chair in band.”
“I don’t feel quite that guilty.”
Andrew gave a small laugh as he walked me to the door. “Be careful out there, Harper.”
“I will.” I handed him his guitar pick necklace, letting the chain pool in his hand. “Whoever wears that is going to be one lucky girl.”
He clasped his necklace and pulled the door toward him. “See you on the field, O’Malley.”
* * *
I had nearly missed Thanksgiving lunch. Try as I might, my trip had not allowed me enough time to get back home by noon. I’d stayed and talked to Marcus, stopped by Mrs. Tucker’s and walked her schnauzer, broken up with Andrew—then stopped for a double dip, eating and crying all the way home to some vintage *NSYNC. But not even a young Justin Timberlake could stop the waterfall of tears and the deluge of snot. But it was a good kind of cry.
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