Love Exactly

by Cassandra Giovanni

  “It sounds like it’d be good exposure for your writing.”

  I flopped back down on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Soon Evan was hovering over me, his body just inches from mine.

  “Hate me all you want. It’s the truth and you know it—it might even be good for you,” he commented as his eyes darted over my face.

  “Ughh…” was my response just as my phone vibrated. I held the screen up so I could see it, Evan still hovering over me expectantly. “Mother f—”

  Evan’s hand went over my mouth. “Watch it missy,” he teased with a smirk.

  I bit his hand and he rolled to the side of me shaking it as I sat up and put my head in between my knees.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, and it was obvious his hand wasn’t injured because he began rubbing my back with it.

  “Hell just froze over,” I replied, my hands tight on my cell phone as I tried in desperation to think of an excuse to get out of it. Evan’s hands were running over my skin—he was the perfect excuse. I started to reply.

  “So I guess we’re going to your old school?” Evan commented, and he had one eye brow up as I looked over my shoulder at him. There went my excuse.

  “It’s not that easy, Evan.”

  He took my hands in his, flipped them and ran his fingers over the swirling hearts on my wrist.

  “Bad memories?” he asked, and when I nodded he sighed. “Won’t it be better to face them? It’s been a long time.”

  I exited out of the message and took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s been a long time.”

  “I’ll be with you,” Evan reminded me as he wrapped me in his arms.

  I was quiet as I thought back to what happened over five years ago. It had been so long ago, but I’d blocked it out so well I could barely see past the vapors of pain that remained. I liked it that way, but I felt the fear building that with one misstep I could have all those memories back; that those demons would begin to haunt me again. I’d never dealt with them, and I knew demons un-exorcised would always remain. I didn’t want Evan to know how much I feared those halls, so instead of telling him it would be too much I agreed.

  Two hours later I sat with my camera bag in my lap, and Evan’s arm resting behind my head as he pulled into the jammed school parking lot.

  “I didn’t realize when you said the school was the biggest one in the state that it was the size of a small college,” he commented as he looked around him at the twelve different buildings scattered across the grounds.

  I shrugged. “It didn’t seem important.”

  His eyes widened as he shook his head. “I guess not…I don’t know how you did it! How did you ever find where anything was?”

  I thumped my hands on the camera bag. “The buildings are broken up by subject, so it’s not bad. I spent most of my time in the English one…It’s named after some old dude that donated a lot of money to the school—Pierce I think.”

  Evan smirked at me. “Does that mean I could have a building named after me?”

  I rolled my eyes and put my hand on the door handle. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Evan nodded and his sunglasses fell over his eyes. “My disguise is in place.”

  “Won’t stop everyone from drooling,” I muttered to myself as I got out of the car and tried not to smile as he walked up to me and put his arm around my waist.

  “You don’t even have a disguise to prevent saliva dripping. We don’t want those basketball players to trip in their own juices, do we?”

  “I didn’t wear a v-neck this time.”

  Evan sped up and turned, walking backwards and motioning to me with his hands. “Your shirt is like a second skin and,” he commented, “skinny jeans don’t leave too much to the imagination even if they’re black.”

  I tried to ignore my surroundings, tried not to let the feelings sink in, but when Evan stopped walking I practically rammed into him because I was so distracted by them. I never wanted to return here. I wanted to leave it in the darkest recesses of my mind.

  Evan held me out at arm’s length. “It’s just a school.”

  I looked at the buildings, feeling the ground I had hated so much underneath my feet. “I spent two years here wishing every second away until I could get the hell out…to escape, and here I am again…feeling just as trapped as an adult.”

  Evan heaved a sigh, lifting his sunglasses so I could see his hazel eyes. “I know you don’t expect me to understand but I do.”

  His eyes drifted down to the ground and his still new flip flops. “It’s one of the reasons I love being with you so much. My whole life has felt like that for a while now…music, media, people always swooning over me for no reason besides I can sing. I feel like I can escape that when I’m with you, and I don’t feel so trapped when I’m on stage anymore. I love playing again, because I know I get to come back to you.”

  “I’m not saying you can’t do that for me…”

  He shook his head to cut me off. “Just give it a chance, huh? Maybe I can make you forget this is something you hate. You loved photography, you loved writing. You still can, just let me help?”

  I nodded and he slid the sunglasses back over his face. “Let’s rock this thing?”

  I laughed as his arm snaked around my waist again, a soft, reassuring pressure.

  “Sounds good,” I replied.

  I was starting to forget as we walked into the gym and headed up the bleachers to an area that would be ideal for the photography, but I could feel eyes on me. It wasn’t just the eyes of girls staring me down; it was more than that. My body froze.

  “What’s wrong?” Evan asked, looking over the top of his sunglasses.

  I knew the color had drained from my face, and my muscles all of a sudden were paralyzed. It was then as I tried to in vain to push the demons away that I realized I couldn’t. I could feel them crawling out from the darkest recesses of my memories, their hunched backs and dripping claws began to poison my thoughts; the feelings returned, the ones I despised so much. The ones I’d allowed Eric to create. It was the desperation, the loss of hope and most of all the self-doubt that started to take me over as I felt his eyes burning into my back. I felt, no knew, I’d lost myself in the abyss of someone else’s tyranny again. When I looked over Evan’s shoulder Eric was standing on the gym floor with his arms crossed, a threatening smile planted on his face.

  Evan’s eyes followed mine and his muscles tensed as they reached where mine were. “That’s not—”

  “The ex? Yeah, that’s him,” I managed to choke out.

  I pulled my eyes away from Eric’s and instead turned them to Evan. His vein in his arm was pulsating along with one I had never noticed on his forehead. It angled from the edge of his inner brow and stopped at the edge of his widow’s peak on the opposite side.

  “Let’s just sit and watch?” I suggested. Evan didn’t answer, but instead nodded as his jaw clenched.

  Evan sat next to me, leaning back against the empty bleachers above us with his arm wrapped around my waist and one of his feet pounding out a furious beat on the empty bleacher in front of us. I reached out and put my hand over his knee.

  “Calm down,” I commented, but I could feel my whole body shaking and a sweat building on my forehead.

  Evan sat forward with his elbows on his knees and looked over his sunglasses at Eric’s back.

  “I just want to pummel the shit out of him,” Evan finally hissed as we both watched the high school boys crowding around Eric. He must be the coach. This sent my trembling overboard and Evan grabbed my hands in his. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head and tried to keep the edge of black from fading in. He was winning. I was letting him win again.

  “He’s the coach…I have to interview the coach,” I managed to explain.

  Evan looked around the room in a desperate attempt at finding an escape.

  “I’ll be with you,” he finally conceded.

  “You’ll kill him.”

  “I mig
ht try.”

  This caused a laugh to ripple through me, and I felt the pressure easing up as Evan’s eyes darted back and forth over mine.

  I looked down the bleachers where Eric was barking orders to the poor high school boys. They didn’t look frightened of him, and in truth he didn’t look like much. He was only about 5’6”, with thin honey brown hair that was wavy and in desperate need of a trim. He seemed to have cut muscles, but when you looked at his small frame it was only due to the fact he was scrawny. As I glanced over at Evan the comparison was almost comical. Evan’s thick hair seemed to have a natural style to it, and his tattoos easily fit his bad boy frame. He was at least four inches taller than Eric with broad shoulders and a small waist. He was still lean, but it was obvious who would win in a fight. Evan also lacked that arrogant glow. He had a reason to be arrogant, yet he wasn’t. Evan was just Evan.

  “You look like you need something to drink?” Evan suggested, squeezing my sweaty palms.

  “I don’t think they have margaritas at the concession stands,” I joked, looking down at the camera hanging at my neck and remembering I was here to do a job.

  “I meant a sports drink or a soda?” Evan laughed. “We can get some real drinks as soon as this thing is over.”

  “Yeah, get me something blue?”

  Evan furrowed his brow before standing. “Will you be okay?”

  I nodded and watched as he walked down the bleachers. There were a few girls on their cell phones comparing a picture of Evan without sunglasses to him with them. I chuckled to myself as one of the girls shook her head and the other nodded so hard she might have given herself whiplash. I read her lips as she hissed, “It’s him—I swear!”

  The other girl looked over her shoulder at me and narrowed her eyes. “Who’s she then?” she snapped back.

  The other girl looked up at me, and I fought the urge to wave. Instead I looked back at the basketball court and started to take pictures. I was so focused on the game I didn’t notice Evan holding out the light blue power drink to me until he coughed. When I looked up at him he was staring over his sunglasses at me, and the girls that had been debating over his identity were snapping a picture. I took the drink and glared at them. They lowered their phones and turned back around.

  “Thanks,” I said as he sat down and kissed my shoulder.

  “I refused my inner bad boy—I walked by him without punching or kicking him,” Evan joked as I took a deep sip of the drink.

  “Speaking of your inner bad boy…you might need a better disguise.” I nodded over to the girls still arguing.

  “The tattoos are the same,” the one who was attempting to give herself whiplash whispered, but she was so excited it came out in a high pitched squeal that Evan and I easily heard.

  Evan was leaning his elbows on his knees again with his un-tattooed hand over his outer forearm.

  “I don’t think that’s going to help,” I commented as I nodded towards the star trail etched into the flesh between his thumb and pointer finger leading up to the Koi fish, only half-covered by his hand.

  He replied to my comment with a shrug before changing the subject. “So how are you feeling about your tattoo; someday it might curse you like mine is now.”

  I rested the camera back down in my lap and flipped my wrist to look at the ink.

  “I don’t think anyone really notices it’s there.”

  He reached forward and took my wrist into his hand before leaning down and kissing the tattoo. I hadn’t realized the tattoo had made the thin skin of my wrist even more sensitive, but now it was very apparent as the goose bumps traveled up my arm. I swallowed as I looked into his eyes, his lips still on my wrist, and denied the urge to push him back against the stands and wrap my legs around his waist.

  “I want to know who she is then,” the doubtful girl said, loud enough for me to hear, and I swore it was on purpose.

  Evan sat back up, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “You think I should just sign their arms or something?”

  “Do you have a permanent marker hidden in your pants or something?” I asked, and his expression caused me to burst out laughing, pointing my finger at him as I warned, “Don’t you dare answer that.”

  “Well, what are we going to do about the giggle twins?” Evan asked.

  I winked at him and stood, walking down the three bleachers and one across to them. The looks on their faces as I approached were priceless.

  I smiled down at them before holding my hand out to introduce myself, “My name is Emma. I work for the local paper. I was wondering if you might answer a few questions for me?”

  The doubtful one swallowed before taking my hand and answering, “Um…Martha…sure. Uh, this is my friend Amy.”

  “Right, nice to meet you two. Can I get a quick picture in case I need it for the article?” I asked and they obliged.

  “So you work for the paper?” Amy asked.

  I nodded. “Who’s your favorite player on the team?”

  “Aaron Peterson—the forward,” Amy explained, pointing to a tall, lanky boy with blue eyes and a mop of hair.

  “Brian Forest,” Martha answered, but her eyes were still on Evan. “He’s my boyfriend.”

  “Speaking of boyfriends…”Amy began, but Martha was quick to elbow her into silence.

  “You noticed mine?” I inferred with a smirk.

  Amy shrugged.

  Martha’s mouth dropped. “So he’s your boyfriend?”

  I gave them a puzzled look. “Why else would he be kissing me and attending a high school basketball game?”

  Emma pouted before she admitted what she was thinking. “He kind of looks like someone famous.”

  “Does he now?”

  Martha elbowed Amy again and she reacted by rubbing her rib cage. “That’s going to leave a bruise,” she hissed.

  They both began to pale, and I felt Evan behind me. His hand wrapped around my waist and he put his thumb through my belt loop.

  “I was getting bored by myself,” he explained.

  “You…you…” Amy began to stutter.

  “The girls here were just telling me about their favorite players. Martha’s,” I explained pointing at her, “boyfriend is on the team, and they were just saying how you look like someone famous.”

  “Interesting,” Evan remarked, and his trademark crooked smile came over his thin lips. The girls swooned, and I tried to stifle my laughter.

  “Who?” I asked the girls.

  “Evan Levesque.”

  “What a coincidence,” I replied. “So anyways, who do you think will win tonight?”

  Amy’s face was scrounged in confusion.

  “Our team, of course.”

  “Funny,” I commented, “Evan and I are rooting for the exact opposite.”

  The girl’s mouths dropped.

  “Well, enjoy the game,” I said as we turned up the bleachers.

  “That was cruel,” Evan commented, but I could hear the undertone of his laughter beneath his breath.

  “It was harmless…plus now they can say they met Evan Levesque and his overly ordinary girlfriend.”

  “You never said I was Evan Levesque,” he reminded me as we took our seats and he handed me my drink again.

  “That’s true.”

  “That should drive them even more nuts.”

  “I think I scared them straight,” I said, nodding to where they were now quiet as they whispered with their heads together.

  “You’re quite clever.” Evan took my power drink and rolled it between his hands. “Very clever indeed.”

  “My theory was most girls that meet you are stunned into silence.”

  Evan nodded, his chin jutting out in thought. “What made you talk?”

  “Lack of coffee,” I answered, and we both laughed.

  It was apparent Eric didn’t think anyone should have fun at basketball games; because he had coughed loud enough that we had both stopped and turned to look at him. Eric saw Evan’s face and
turned back to the game. I watched as his muscles tightened under the thin, too-tight, white button-up he was wearing.

  “Can I throttle him now?” Evan growled through clenched teeth.

  “Later…only if he gives us a reason.”

  “He already gave me a reason five years ago.”

  We finished the game in silence, but I managed to snap a few nice action shots, even catching the winning basket shot.

  The crowds ran out from the bleachers as the last buzzer rang, so Evan and I were the only people left there. Eric took the pats on the shoulder and with each one his arrogant smile grew, spreading over his ferret-like face. I watched as the players streamed off the floor into the locker room. I knew what was coming soon enough, and I could feel the layer of cold sweat building on my skin.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I managed to stutter out after five minutes of waiting in silence. “I can’t talk to him. He’s still the same—I can see it in his eyes—in his presence.”

  Evan stood and held his hand out to me. “I guess I won’t be beating anyone up tonight.”

  I shook my head and let him lead me down the rows and onto the gym floor. We were half-way to the door when I heard the shoes on the floor.

  “Don’t you need to interview the coach?” Eric called out at our backs.

  I stopped in my tracks and stared up at Evan. I knew the panic was all over my face. He squeezed my hand and we turned to face him as he came up behind us.

  “Sure,” I said, and I was proud to say my voice came out strong. “My name is Emma and this is my boyfriend, Evan. I work for the local paper, as I’m sure you know by your question.”

  “I know who you are,” Eric answered with his eyebrows raised in a tease.

  I felt Evan’s muscles tense next to me.

  “Right,” I said.

  “Old friends you and I, mhmm?” Eric said as he cocked his head at me. “Although, I’d say we were more than that.”

  “Mr. Silverstein, I’m here to report on the game,” I clarified.

  “It sure is hot in here, why don’t we do this outside?” Evan suggested, and my head shot up to look at his reddening face.

  “Sounds like an excellent idea,” Eric agreed, but I couldn’t understand why with Evan towering over him.