by A. M. Brooks
“Yeah okay.” He jumps up from his seat. “So where the hell are you going and why again?”
“Washington,” I tell him. “Gonzaga won’t give me the time of day ‘til I tour the campus. My parents are in France so I’m going this weekend after tomorrow’s trial.”
“Is this our number one pick?” Ethan asks.
I exhale out the anxiety that question gives me. “Yeah,” I respond confidently. “It is.”
“Staying west coast?” Elijah pushes.
I nod.
“What time is court again?” they both ask at the same time. Stupid twin thing.
“His appearance in front of the judge is at one-thirty,” I reply while cracking my knuckles.
The suspense is killing me. My father’s guy let it slip that Araminta PD had lost their source. A few of the higher-ups okayed it for their hotshot rookie from Nevada to help consult on the case. The judge ruled in their favor and pushed Roman’s court date back to later this week. I was relieved to know that Nora wouldn’t be around for this no matter what the outcome was. Things had been quiet lately. Even though she was ignoring me, I still showed up every day. The guys still had her back, and Nichols still shadowed her. That shit grated on my nerves. Every time he touches her, I want to break his hand. I keep my cool though. She forgave me and that’s all that matters right now.
The town car hasn’t been around her house again. Ethan and Elijah both reported that Camilla hasn’t been a problem at school either. Sounds perfect, like things are going our way, but it’s just the calm before the storm. I want Nora nowhere near the state or on this side of the country when shit pops off tomorrow.
“Does she know about court tomorrow?” Elijah asks.
I wince because I haven’t kept her up to date. I don’t want her to worry while she’s enjoying her senior year. I fucked up enough of her junior year that I want her to only have good memories of this one.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Ethan laughs when I don’t answer.
“I’ll tell her,” I say to them.
“You better. No secrets, right?” Ethan reminds me.
“Yeah,” I snap at him. I know he’s right. He’s also a cocky asshole sometimes.
I whip out my phone and pull up her contact info.
Darrian: Can you meet tonight?
Nora: No
Darrian: Please? I know tomorrow is Thanksgiving but it’s about Roman.
Nora: …
I hold my breath while the bubbles appear three more times before she actually hits send.
Nora: Fine. Where?
Darrian: I’ll pick you up at 8
I hit send and pocket my phone again, it’s never good when she uses the word fine.
“Leaving?” Elijah raises his eyebrows.
“What do you think?” I say, shouldering past him out of the room. They follow me down the staircase, with Ethan laughing like a hyena.
“Dude, she so owns his dick.” Ethan elbows Elijah then they both laugh at my expense. I shake my head because yeah, she does. I’m not going to say it out loud though. I’m just not going to say anything.
“Out of my house,” I tell them, opening the front door.
“Yeah, yeah big guy,” Ethan says.
“See you at court tomorrow.” Elijah waves before walking over to his brother’s truck.
“Idiots,” I murmur to myself. I check my phone and see its quarter to eight now. I throw my jacket on and head over to Nora’s. I need to end this silent treatment shit she’s pulling. I need to talk to her like I need air. Nora is it for me. Even if we end up at colleges on opposite coasts, it won’t matter. I’ll never be the same without her.
Darrian: I’ll pick you up at 8
I release the breath I’ve been holding since his name dinged as an incoming text. My carefully laid plans to ignore him had been going well. I’ve been strategically avoiding Darrian since Halloween. I woke up the morning after with a killer headache and an all too clear memory of what happened at the end of the driveway. Worse was the memory that I ran away. Literally ran away after he kissed me like a five year old on the playground. Nora and Darrian sitting in a tree…
That was almost a month ago. Now I’m cornered and it’s time to face the music. I knew it was only a matter of time until he was done giving me space to process. Our morning car rides have been civil at best. He had been keeping his feelings locked under the surface, waiting for my cue. I, on the other hand, have buried my feelings deep down and was more than willing to forget it happened. History proves that Darrian never lets things sit for too long. He never forgets.
My phone reads seven fifty-five when I decide to slowly peel myself off my bed. I should care how I look, but I don’t. Instead, I throw on this year’s homecoming t-shirt and a pair of grey capris leggings. This November has been chillier than last year, so I grab my jean jacket and red Chucks too. Right as my foot hits the bottom stair, I hear his Jeep pull into the driveway. I freeze, my heart rate speeding up. I have to fight against all my instincts that are screaming at me to turn around and go back upstairs. Turn around and I won’t get hurt. My broken heart can stay patched together with Band-Aids and everything will be fine.
Knock, Knock.
I rush to the door before he can knock again. “What are you doing?” I ask bewildered. Not once has Darrian came to my door to pick me up.
“It felt weird sending you a text that I was out front.” He shrugs. “Is your dad home?”
“What?” My gaze snaps to his, watching for a sign that he’s ready to snap and like I’ve imagined a thousand times this whole thing will be a giant joke.
“I was going to say hi,” he says, eyes flicking to the ground almost shyly. Which doesn’t make sense when Darrian King is never shy.
“Oh, uh, yeah he’s out with Jodi.” The words stammer out of my mouth. This situation is getting weirder and weirder by the minute. “Should we go?” I ask. The need to have Darrian out of my safe place is my first priority.
“Yeah,” he answers before stepping away from the door and walking back outside. I lock the door and follow him to his Jeep. We’re both quiet as we get in. I slide my seatbelt on while we pull away from my house. Drake’s “Make Me Proud” plays quietly as he heads for the island again.
“The yacht?” I ask him anyway just for something to say.
Darrian glances at me before returning his eyes back to the road. “Figured for this conversation, privacy is better.”
I look out my window, breathing through the pit forming in my stomach. I can’t speak anymore and thankfully he seems lost in his own thoughts too. Time passes quickly and soon we’re parking in the sandy lot.
“We should go to Tilly’s again sometime,” he remarks, catching me off guard. “Maybe after break or something.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I respond noncommittally. Being in his presence at all sounds like a brand of torture to me. When we reach our destination, I climb up before Darrian can assist. Less touching, the better. He joins me a few seconds later. Unlike last time, there is no meal waiting. I walk over to the ledge facing the direction of the city, lights twinkling in the background.
“Ready for your trip?” his voice slides over me soothingly.
I nod. “I can’t wait.” When my dad brought up going to his family’s for Thanksgiving his year, I was ecstatic. The fact that he wanted to bring Jodi with to meet them was even better. It did not take a whole lot of convincing on my part for him to allow Lily to join after that. Before he knew it, Jodi also helped us book a tour of the UNC campus.
“UNC, huh?” he asks.
I bite my lip before bringing my gaze to his face. There is no anger or jealousy in his eyes, just pure curiosity.
“It’s my number one,” I finally admit out loud. Since last year with all the discussions we had about college and what team he wanted to play for I’d been secretly harboring a fascination with UNC as well. I didn’t mention it back then out of fear he’d think I was doing it to follow
him. “I also have family in that area in case I would need anything,” I add, still thinking I need to justify my decision to him.
“It’s a great school,” he acknowledges, catching me off guard. “I’m happy for you. I hope you get accepted.”
“Thank you,” I flush at his praise, averting my eyes.
“What’s your number two?” he continues.
“UCLA,” I answer.
“Local?” He raises his eyebrow and I roll my eyes.
“What can I say, California grew on me,” I joke with him. He laughs.
“That’s awesome, babe. I hope you get what you want,” he says.
“How was your Stanford tour?” I ask him now that I’m feeling polite.
He shrugs. “It was Stanford. My father had more fun at the tour than I did. It’s a nice campus and their facility is good, it just didn’t speak to me.”
I dip my head in understanding. “It’s a big decision.”
“Yeah, this time it is.” He smiles at me and I turn redder. I forgot this isn’t his first time going through this.
“Sorry,” I say timidly.
“Don’t be,” he waves me off. “I’m actually going to Washington this weekend to tour Gonzaga. They’re my number one right now,” he shares.
“I’ve never heard of them,” I announce stupidly. Darrian laughs again.
“Not a lot of people have. They’re really good though. They’ve had like nineteen players get drafted. Only like eight or nine of them actually played a game in the NBA, but its good odds,” he explains to me.
I’ll have to Google them later tonight. We fall into a comfortable silence, the hypnotic sound of waves lapping at the boat creates a sense of calm.
“I need to tell you something.” Darrian breaks the moment. His voice sends warning bells off in my head. One look at his face and his serious expression worries me.
“Okay,” I say, turning my body to face him, giving him my full attention.
“Roman’s court date is set for Friday afternoon,” he tells me. “We’ve been waiting for news for weeks. The guys have been on edge at school as well.”
“That was fast,” I murmur.
“I’m not sure what the detective from Nevada found, but he was able to get in front of a judge pretty easily. It hasn’t been long since they asked for an extension.” He talks it through with me. I hug my arms around my middle.
“Should I tell my dad I need to stay here?” The disappointment drips from my voice.
“No! Absolutely not.” Darrian shakes his head. “Go and have fun. The guys and I are going. I don’t think it would be good to have you anywhere near this right now honestly.”
“Will you keep me updated?” I ask him. His eyes find mine again.
“Do you want me to?” he questions.
Do I? What a loaded question. This would be the perfect time to disengage and forget about it all. I’m already committed though. “Yes,” I respond, keeping my voice strong.
“Okay.” He nods before staring off in the distance again. “I’ll take you home now,” he announces suddenly.
“That’s it?” I ask confused. I was prepared to argue and fight with him and all he wanted to talk about was Roman’s court appearance. This should make me happy that maybe he was backing off. Instead, it made me sad and anxious. Was he moving on?
“Are you ready to talk about anything else?” he watches me, his face a mask of seriousness. I rear back, realizing I’m heading into dangerous territory with my next answer.
“Yes.” I hold my breath, waiting. His eyebrows rise up, he looks surprised.
“Now?” he clarifies, and I nod my head. “Ah, okay.” He laughs. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“Me either,” I admit. “Do I just ask you questions?”
“That works,” he answers, leading me over to the alcove seating. We both take a seat, my legs bounce. I’m nervous. Like being forced to take public speaking and having to give a thirty-minute presentation nervous.
“Well,” I clear my throat. “You’re really clean?”
“Yes,” he answers.
“What do you do?” I ask.
“I keep a structured schedule so I don’t have a lot of idle time. I avoid parties and places I know I could score if needed. I told you about seeing Coach at AA, he’s sort of my sponsor. We talk every day. I go to meetings on the days of my short classes,” he tells me.
“What happened the night before prom?” I speak the words quickly before I lose the courage.
“I did have dinner with my parents. My father mentioned some trouble they’d been having with money missing, clients reporting that they weren’t being taken care of and neglected. Most of the clients who were reporting not being taken care of were off Ander’s accounts that your dad was in charge of. My dad started asking me a lot of questions about your dad and you. He wanted to wait ‘til the next day when his investigators had more information. We made a decision though to run you both out if needed. I tried to remember the promise I made you. I did. The evidence just kept stacking up though and rather than talk to you about it I started feeling resentful. Like I said last time, I quit for you because you wanted me to. I didn’t want to quit. My mind was only focused on using and how I could get that situation to work to my advantage. I was angry at you for keeping me away from the drugs.
“On prom night my father called at dinner and said things were confirmed. He was letting your dad go and the authorities would be looking into it. He said we needed you both out of this town. I knew if I talked to you, I would second guess what my father said. I would believe you. And if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get my fix.”
“So you drove me away by sleeping with Hannah,” I finish for him.
A pained look crosses his face. “It just happened to be Hannah because she was there. If she hadn’t of been it would have been someone else. What I did was unforgivable. I was using my addict brain though. When I woke up in the hospital, I really thought you’d shrug it off and we’d go back to normal. It wasn’t ‘til I was in the recovery program that it actually hit me how much pain I caused you. How not normal our situation was.”
“I was so torn down by you. I told you I loved you even and it wasn’t enough. I’m scared I would never be enough. That at any moment you’re going to laugh in my face that this is all a huge prank,” I admit. My voice shakes as I say the words I’ve been hiding from him.
“It’s not,” he says, pulling my chilled hand into his warm one. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me right now, but I promise I’m dead serious when I tell you I love you. I want to be with you and only you.”
“I can’t do that like we did before.” A tear glides down my cheek and falls on our joined hands. “I’m not built like you or other girls who are fine with that arrangement. It hurt too much, and I cared more than I wanted to admit.”
“What arrangement?” He leans closer, tilting my chin and dragging my gaze back up to his.
“No labels, friends with benefits,” I answer, the flush on my face and neck deepening. “I deserve more than that.”
“I was an immature dick.” He shakes his head. “You deserve so much more, Nora. I’m selfish though. I can’t let you go. When you are ready, I want us to be an official couple. I won’t hurt you like that again.”
I take a deep breath in at his words. Our past has been dissected, the hard truths are answered and we’re both equally exposed. Darrian reached in and took my heart from my chest, removed the bandages, and let the blood pour all over the table between us. He was examining the pieces, trying to fit them together again and I was letting him. I wanted him too. That was the most confusing part of all of this.
“I’m not ready yet,” I tell him, hoping he can read in my eyes how hard it is to be vulnerable to him again.
“It’s okay,” he assures me before bringing my knuckles to his lips, kissing them. “I should get you home. It’s late and I don’t want your dad to hate me more. I’m trying to make a
good impression.” He smiles and I laugh. If only he knew how long of a way he had to go. I might be able to forgive Darrian, but I’m not sure my dad will after everything.
I stand and follow him to the edge. Unlike before, I let him help me down this time, secretly enjoying the feeling of his hands on my waist guiding me. The heated pressure from his fingers causes goosebumps across my arms and down my legs. Once both of my feet are on the ground, I turn and find him smirking. He did it on purpose. I roll my eyes and Darrian takes my hand while we walk to his Jeep. He doesn’t let go the entire drive back to my house and I’m okay with it. When he parks, he walks me to my door, our hands still clasped together. I don’t want to let go. I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to either. We’ve reached a very new, fragile place in our relationship tonight. I’m nervous if I let go, everything will change back at midnight. At my door, he doesn’t speak, he squeezes my hand one more time before walking away. I watch until his taillights disappear, and accept the fact that things aren’t always black and white. Our relationship is a lot of grey area. It will be difficult to trust him again and to be vulnerable in front of him. Once again, I am falling for Darrian King.
Being in a courtroom is the equivalent to being in church. You sit on a hard ass bench, listen to a long-ass speech, and hear some evidence, all the while being looked down upon by a man in a robe. I feel like I’m suffocating in my button-down shirt. The tie is squeezing my neck like a cobra. I reach to adjust the knot again when I feel another body slide next to me on the bench. The overly expensive cologne blankets me, making the room even more unbearable.
“You finally made it,” I say to Charles King. His sudden appearance did not go unnoticed by the crowd around us.
“Can’t change the flight plans, son,” he says in a low voice so that only I can hear. I shift in my seat, creating some distance. On my right Ethan and Elijah exchange glances. The room is rolling with tension. Behind our seat is the family of the Northland High girl and a couple reporters from the local news channels. On the other side of the room, Roman’s grandmother is weeping into a Kleenex, repeating the Lord’s Prayer over and over again. Camilla Turner and a few guys in suits sit next to her. They almost look like normal, upstanding citizens, except for the bright yellow bandanas tucked in the coat pocket. I observe everything and everyone, thankful that Nora is far away from this courtroom today. A few minutes creep by before the bailiff asks that everyone rise and remove their hats.