Covering the Quarterback

by Amber Thielman

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a smart girl. You figure it out,” Tyler said. He winked at me, and then licked his lips as if he was staring down his next screw. I felt a shiver run up my spine as I watched him walk away, and I never hated anyone more than I did him in that very moment.

  Although I wasn’t exactly expecting a trophy for confronting Tyler like the good friend I was trying to be, I certainly wasn’t expecting the whirlwind of rage Jackson had for me when I got back to his place.

  “What were you thinking, confronting Tyler?” he snapped. “I told you not to, and you went ahead and did it anyway. What is wrong with you?”

  Knowing that there wasn’t enough time in the world to get into that discussion, I brushed it aside.

  “I needed to know why he didn’t care enough to come and see you,” I said. “I wanted to see what kind of ridiculous excuse he had to bow out instead of being there for his best friend.”

  “Best friend?” Jackson repeated. “He was my football buddy, Grace, and now I can no longer play the game, why is it his problem? That’s how shit works, okay? We have nothing in common anymore. The truth is, I can’t blame him.”

  “You really believe that?” I asked. “You believe that friendships are made based on the things you have in common, and if that common interest collapses, then that’s it? The friendship is over?”

  “Isn’t that how it is?” Jackson said with a shrug. “You and I only know each other through football. That’s the reason we met at all.”

  “Here’s the difference, jackass,” I said. “We met through football, you got hurt, and I’m still here.” I paused, trying to rein in my anger before I threw something hard and heavy, damaging him further. “People aren’t friends because of something silly like a sport or a movie, Jackson. People are friends because they care about each other in a way that only friends can. They stand by you when you’re down, they pull you up when you’re sinking, and they love you even when the rest of the world doesn’t. That’s what a friend is.”

  For a moment, I thought I’d gotten through to him, but the anger on Jackson’s face was imminent.

  “Don’t you get it?” he said. “My life is over, Grace. Everything I was, everything I am, is done. Gone. I will never be who I once was ever again.”

  “You’re still alive,” I said quietly. “That means something.”

  “It means nothing!” Jackson shouted, and I watched in utter shock as he wheeled around and put his fist into his living-room wall. An ear-splitting crack seemed to ricochet through the house as the drywall crumbled beneath his fist. I took one step back, and then another. Jackson wheeled on me, and for a brief second, I was certain he would hit me, too, but he didn’t. His arm dropped to his side, and he stood staring instead, breathing heavily, trying to pull himself together.

  “Jackson,” I said, but then stopped because I had no idea what to say. I was at a loss for words, which was a very rare event which normally only happened to me in the midst of flirting.

  “I think you need to leave,” he said, and pointed at the door as if he were scolding a dog. “Just go home. You don’t need to take care of me; I can do that myself.”

  For a moment, there was silence as his words settled heavily in the air between us. My throat tightened up with dread and anger, and I swallowed back what little bit of dignity I had left and nodded my head, just once.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I shouldn’t be here. It’s not like anyone’s holding a gun to my head and forcing me to be your friend. Right?”

  “If I ever see that rat bastard again, I’m going to break his face.” Alex’s eyes were burning with what I could only assume was wild fury. She was practically shaking as she paced our living-room floor, shaking her head as she cursed vividly.

  “I don’t know if you could feasibly break him anymore,” I said. “At least not physically. He’s pretty much just a shell of a person.” I was curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, cradling a mug of cocoa spiked with Kahlua in my hands. I’d debated even telling Alex about what had gone down with Jackson last night, but since she was my best friend, obviously, it was inevitable. She had looked past the first time he’d been an asshole, and she’d done it for me, but this time there was no room to forgive. “It’s fine,” I continued. “It’s probably better this way.”

  “It’s not fine,” she said, and stopped pacing long enough to glare at me as if I was the whole problem and she was debating just punching me instead. “It’s not fine at all. I told you Jackson wasn’t worth it, Grace, and like the good friend you are you didn’t just leave it be.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “That’s not who I am. Jackson needed a friend, and I was there. I would have done the same for you. And for Shawn. And for anyone else who needed me.”

  “I know,” Alex said. She took a seat next to me on our couch and looked sadly at me. “You are an amazing person,” she told me. “You’re my best friend, Grace, and he doesn’t deserve to have you in his life. Not for anything.”

  “For once, I think we can finally agree.” I sipped my cocoa, wishing I had the energy to get up and add more booze like the competent adult I was. Alex took my free hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m sorry for what he said,” she murmured. “You didn’t deserve any of it.” She sighed and looked at the time on her phone. “I have to go to work,” she said. “Do you want me to call out and stay with you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “It all happened yesterday. Another cup of hot chocolate and I might just be over it. I’m fine.”

  “Do you want to come out and see me tonight?” she asked. “Have a few drinks or something?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. I was tired and mostly just wanted to go to bed, but it was still vaguely early. I could only allow myself to be so pathetic day-to-day, and I was up to my limit for today. As tired as I was, I also didn’t want to sit around the house and mope about a guy who wasn’t worth moping about.

  “I hope I see you,” Alex said as she stood up and pulled on her jacket. “I’ll have a drink waiting.”

  Chapter 36

  Jackson

  It shouldn’t have surprised me in the least that those words I’d spoken to Tyler would come back to haunt me. How Grace could know what I’d said that day was beyond me, but that was just my luck. It was all coming together now, the three days she’d avoided me, ignored me, distanced herself from me, and it was all because of me. And now here I was, alone in my dark apartment, listening to the loud echo of the slamming door vibrate against my skull. Very briefly I’d considered going after her, but what could I say now to fix this? I wasn’t worth it, that’s all I could tell her at this point. I wasn’t worth the pain I was inflicting, and maybe it was time for her to figure that out on her own.

  Grabbing another beer from the fridge, I took a seat on the couch, trying not to acknowledge the fact that within a few days’ time there was a good chance my ass would fuse to the fabric. I didn’t care. I popped the top off the beer and took a long, hard drink. Then I reached for my prescription pills on the table and took a couple more of them. Fortunately for me, I had a few refills left before the doctor would decide that I had to face the pain without them. At this point, I wasn’t even sure if I was still taking them for the physical pain, or from the emotional pain.

  I looked at my phone to see if anyone had tried to get a hold of me. There was nothing. My thumb hovered over Grace’s name on the screen. I wanted to call her, to ask her to come back so I could apologize for going off on her. I had a lot to apologize for, but I was still trying to decide if it was worth the effort. She’d been a good friend to me, and I’d only brought her down. Maybe this was for the best.

  I tossed the phone aside and slipped down into the cozy cushions of the couch. Aside from having to go to the neighborhood pharmacy to pick up my prescription refills the day before, I hadn’t left the house, not even for class, not for anything
. I was failing, probably, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was in school on a full-ride football scholarship, and now that that whole plan was out the window. I should have focused on at least passing my classes so I could graduate, but caring about it at this point seemed like a waste of time and breath. I was over it.

  It only took a few more minutes for those pills to take effect and send me into a cozy cocoon of sleep. There were no dreams, just welcomed silence and peace.

  What compelled me to leave the house for the first time in over a week I’ll never know, but it was around eight-thirty at night when I found myself walking into the bar for a drink. The pain in my legs had slowly been fading, but the tingling was still present; I didn’t think that would ever go away. It didn’t matter, though. At this point, I didn’t care if it was healing or not.

  I didn’t want to think too heavily about why I had decided to go to the bar of all places, especially since I knew there was a good chance that Grace might be there, too. Part of me feared to see her again, and the other part of me desperately wanted to see her. Since the very moment I’d kicked her out of the house yesterday evening, I’d wanted nothing more than to make amends with her. Why, I wasn’t certain, but we’d cross that bridge if we came to it.

  The first person I spotted, of course, was Alex. She was in her usual spot behind the bar counter serving a middle-aged man a frosty mug of beer. She looked up when I came in, and the smile that was stuck to her face vanished in the blink of an eye. She was staring at me as I approached the bar, and this time I had no problem at all reading her expression. She was pissed.

  “Brave of you to show your pathetic face in here,” she said, loud enough for every other customer in the bar to turn their heads and look at me.

  “Free country, right?” I asked, and regretted egging her on. For a girl, Alex could probably kick my ass from here Oregon without breaking a sweat.

  “You have no friends here,” she said, and for some reason I couldn’t quite pinpoint, that hurt.

  “I just want a beer,” I said, avoiding the fact I’d already noticed Grace was nowhere to be seen.

  “You’re lucky I don’t own this place because I’d ban you forever,” Alex snapped. I sighed and looked away, wondering if I’d made a mistake coming here. Obviously, I had, but making mistakes hadn’t stopped my stupidity before.

  “You can’t ban me from every place in Seattle,” I said. “Sooner or later I’m bound to run into her.”

  “Then might I suggest that you do everything in your power to make sure that doesn’t happen?” Alex asked, but it wasn’t a question.

  “Maybe if she’d answer her phone, I could apologize,” I said. Alex laughed, but there was no humor in her voice, and I made sure to keep an eye on her hands in case she lost all sense of self-control and started wailing on me.

  “Walking out your door last night and not turning back was the best thing Grace has done since the moment she met you,” Alex said. “We all know it.”

  I winced, painfully aware of the burning lump in the back of my throat. I looked away from the callous expression on Alex’s face, wishing I was man enough to say something to her that didn’t sound as weak and defeated as I felt at that moment.

  “I’d like to see her,” I said, and forced myself to look at her. I wanted so passionately to hate her, to call her out for being a bitch, but even more than that I wanted to hug her for being a devoted friend to Grace, the kind of friend so few people had anymore . . . me included.

  “You only want her because you can’t have her, don’t you?” asked Alex. She handed me a bottle of beer, cracking her knuckles for good measure as she did so. I took a swig and shook my head.

  “Of course not.”

  “Really?” she leaned over the counter, folding her hands in front of her, and stared at me. I found myself nearly cowering, but I stood my ground. “You never had any interest in Grace before, Tate. Then one night she insults your ego and calls you out, and now you can’t leave her alone. It all sounds pretty textbook to me.”

  “She’s not like other girls.”

  “No, she’s not.” Alex straightened up. “She’s amazing. She’s smart. And funny. And charming. And pig headed. And driven. And honestly? She’s too good for you and your shitty idea of friendship.”

  “I know,” I said, and Alex looked slightly surprised that I wasn’t arguing the fact. She composed herself quickly.

  “Find someone else,” she said after a moment. “Find a girl who wants to kiss your ass and worship you to the ends of the earth. It’s not Grace. Trust me on that.”

  “She’s my best friend,” I said, and that comment seemed to surprise us both. I wasn’t expecting it, and neither was Alex. She wheeled around to look at me, eyes burning with the heat of a thousand suns.

  “No, I’m her best friend,” she said. “And I don’t plan on sharing that role with anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Least of all you and your judgmental, needy, egotistical, arrogant, ass.” She stopped to take a deep breath and then leaned over the bar to stare me in the face. “Get the hell out, and stay out.”

  Chapter 37

  Grace

  As tired as I was, a drink didn’t sound bad, and I was quickly and desperately running out of Kahlua to spike my third cup of cocoa. So, with a sigh that rattled my entire body, I pulled on my coat and walked to the bar, hoping I could force myself to stay awake for at least another couple of hours before I allowed myself to fall into bed.

  I opened the front door to the bar, embracing the warm air that hit me in the face with a welcoming whoosh of air. As I walked towards Alex, I noticed her hovering over the bar counter deep in conversation with someone. It was Jackson. I stopped where I was in the middle of the floor, but Alex looked up to see who had come in, and so did he. I saw him stand up from his bar stool, and without another moment’s hesitation I turned on my heel and walked out.

  “Grace,” Jackson called. I could hear the desperation in his voice, but it only drove me faster. I didn’t want to look at him for fear of crying. I could feel the hot tears pressing against the back of my eyeballs, but I didn’t stop, I didn’t even slow. “Grace, hold on a second.” Jackson caught up with me right outside the door, and he snapped one hand out to grab my arm, pulling me around to face him.

  “You’re a royal asshole,” I hissed. “Leave me the hell alone.” Despite how angry I was at him, the hurt was creeping up slowly, and before I could stop it, hot tears were running down my cheeks, staining my face. Jackson let go of my arm, expecting a different reaction.

  “Grace,” he said, then faltered. I made it a point to look around us, at the gawking group of students crossing the street to head to the bar. They were staring at the two of us standing on the sidewalk, making a scene no one could understand.

  “You better go now,” I said. “People can see us together. I’d hate to ruin your reputation.”

  I half expected him to argue, to keep trying, but instead of doing either of those he closed his mouth and took a deep breath. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and stood there for a moment, wondering if he would say anything else. When he didn’t, I closed my eyes.

  “Goodbye, Jackson.”

  The silence in my house bothered me. It was intense and suffocating, like all four walls were slowly closing me in, and I didn’t have the energy or the desire to escape it. I felt numb and sad, the kind of sadness that traveled so deep to the core of my soul that all the alcohol in the world couldn’t make it go away.

  Alex was still at work, but she’d managed to call me five or six times between the fight Jackson and I had had in the parking lot and now, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer her. I felt pathetic, like some school-aged kid who couldn’t keep a friend because nobody could tolerate her for long. I was angry, most of all. I was angry at Tyler, and I was angry at Jackson, but most of all I was angry at myself. I was angry because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why my heart hurt so badly. I couldn’t understand why Jacks
on’s words and actions affected me to such an extent. Months ago, I had despised him. He’d been nothing to me but another arrogant football jock, the kind of guy I’d roll my eyes at and never think twice about daily. So, what was happening to me, and why?

  When my cell phone rang again, I glanced over expecting it to be Alex. But it wasn’t Alex. It was my mom. Frowning, I reached for my phone, wondering why she was calling so late.

  “Mom?”

  “Hi, baby,” the familiar sound of her voice made my heart nearly melt in my chest, and as if the floodgates opened, tears started streaming hot and wet down my face.

  “Hi,” I sobbed, and I heard mom sigh softly on the other end of the line.

  “I sensed something was off,” she said. “That’s why I called. You know, that mother/daughter sixth sense thing.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I said, wiping my eyes. “You must have talked to Alex.”

  “No,” Mom said. “I’ve been thinking of you since I left to come back home the other day.”

  “Don’t you always think of me?” I teased, and mom laughed.

  “Tell me what’s going on, baby,” she said. I wiped another tear away and took a deep breath to compose myself.

  “Nothing really,” I said. “At least, nothing that matters.”

  “I heard about Jackson’s accident,” she said.

  “You did?”

  “It was in the paper. He’s pretty big people around those parts. How is he doing?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sniffed again and closed my eyes. “He’s not doing very well, mom. I think he’s depressed, and possibly hooked on the pain pills they gave him.”

  “Have you been with him?” Mom asked, but I could tell by her tone that she already knew the answer, and I didn’t have to say anything.

  “We got into a fight,” I said.

  “Friends fight,” Mom pointed out.

  “Who said we were friends?”