by Lisa De Jong
I’m starting to feel something for Drake Chambers, and I’m scared he may never feel the same way. I have this tough as nails exterior, but inside I’m a tangled mess. When one of the only people you love and trust leaves you at such a young age, it’s hard to get over. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know how to deal with it. It broke me. And because of that, I close myself off to avoid getting hurt again.
I glance toward the door when I hear a key in the lock and wait for Kate to barrel in. She does a few seconds later wearing her gray Southern Iowa Hawks sweatpants and sweatshirt. Her long hair is tangled in a knot at the top of her head, and it’s one of the few times I’ve seen her with her glasses on.
“Good morning,” she says, throwing her bag onto the bed.
“Hey, how was your night?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at her.
“It was good.” She plops herself down next to me on my bed. She never asks first, but it doesn’t bother me. Kate’s different than most girls I know, wiser and more mature. She’s very easy to be open with.
“And?” I ask, nudging her with my elbow.
“And nothing. I told you, we’re not in any hurry.” She rolls to her side, facing me. “Besides, you have no room to talk. When’s the last time you had sex?”
“Three months.”
Her mouth opens then closes again. Kate’s speechless.
“What? Did you think I was a virgin? Why does everyone think that?”
“It’s just … when you were talking about your high school boyfriend, it didn’t sound like you had that type of relationship.” Her green eyes are as big as I’ve ever seen them.
“I’m smart, but that doesn’t make me an angel.”
“I’m sorry. You just didn’t seem like the type to risk it.”
“Risk what?”
“Getting your heart broken.”
I laugh, a serious, gut-shaking laugh. “In order for a guy to break your heart, you have to feel a certain way about him. Clay had a special place in my heart, but it was different than what you have with Beau.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your relationship seems so effortless, and you guys enjoy being with each other. I’ve never seen you fight once. What I had with Clay was so much work, mostly because I never truly invested in it.”
“Beau and I were friends forever, though. We understand each other.”
“So why did you wait so long to get in a relationship?”
An uneasy feeling washes over her face. “I liked him for a long time, but things happened that kept us apart, or should I say I kept us apart.”
“Yeah, I guess I kind of did the same thing with Clay. I never really gave us a chance to be anything more than high school sweethearts. I was too afraid he’d hold me back.”
“Do you think you could have had something more permanent?”
“I’ll never know. I mean, I think I did too much damage in the beginning by keeping him at arm’s length to ever give us a happy ending.” I stop, wondering how the heck we always end up having these types of conversations. I guess, in a way, it’s good that I feel like I can open up to Kate, and it allows me to see that I created some of my misery myself. Not everything can be blamed on my mom.
“So are you and Beau doing anything today?” I ask, ready for a subject change.
“Beau’s going to the homecoming game.”
“You’re not going?” I’m surprised. They seem to do everything together.
“No, I told him I wanted to hang out with you. Besides, he is going with Cory and a couple other guys.”
The mention of the game brings the bag I have hidden inside my backpack to the forefront of my mind again. I’d all but decided not to go, but I wonder what Kate would think of it.
“Drake gave me something the other day after our presentation.”
“Really? What was it?”
Scooting down to the end of the bed, I lift my backpack from the floor and pull out the black gift bag with yellow tissue paper. I haven’t looked at it since he gave it to me. “Here,” I say, handing it off to Kate.
She pulls out the paper first, coming up with the number twelve black and gold jersey with Chambers across the back. I wonder if the players are even supposed to hand them out. “Oh my God. Why did Drake Chambers give you his jersey?”
“He wants me to go to the game today. He even put three tickets at the bottom of the bag,” I say, nervously playing with the edge of the comforter.
She reaches her hand to the bottom and comes up with a white envelope with my name scrolled on the top. She tears it open and pulls out the contents, laying them on top of my bed. Three tickets are fanned out, but there’s also a folded piece of notebook paper. One I would have never known was there if it hadn’t been for her.
“I didn’t know there was a letter,” I say, pulling it from her fingers. I don’t hesitate to open it.
In my haste to read what Drake wrote, I didn’t notice Kate leaning over to read right along with me. “You need to go, Emery. I’ll call Rachel, and we’ll go with you.”
“I can’t.” I don’t want to be judgmental, but I know Drake’s just going to break my heart. He’s already scratched it a couple times, and we’re not even in any sort of relationship. We’ve never even kissed … I have no idea what he wants from me.
“Why not? This is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen, and the fact that it came from Drake Chambers says something.”
“Why is he doing this?” I ask. It’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over the last few days. Why does he care so much whether or not I go to this?
“I think he likes you but just doesn’t want to admit it. Sometimes guys need a little push. I mean, do you know how long Beau liked me before he actually said something?” She stops, picking the jersey up off the bed and throwing it over my shoulder. “Put this on. The game starts in a little over an hour. We can still make it.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the look she’s giving me warns me not to waste my time. I stand up and pull on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve white shirt from my dresser, ready to see what this football stuff is all about.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a game before,” Rachel says as we walk into the packed stadium. This is the first time I’ve met her, but it doesn’t feel that way. The three of us quickly fell into a rhythm and haven’t stopped talking since.
“Hey, give her a break. I’ve never been to one either—not in college anyway,” Kate replies, saving me from having to come up with an explanation.
“Cory drags me along to almost every home game. The only reason I didn’t have to go this time was because Beau invited him. Tell him thank you.”
Kate laughs. “I will.”
Rachel nudges my shoulder, pointing to three empty seats in the front row of the student section. “Drake scored us some good seats. We should have painted our stomachs or something. Maybe we could have gotten ourselves on TV.”
“I’d never do that,” Kate chimes in as we take our seats.
The teams are just taking the field and, oddly enough, I’m nervous. Not because I’m here, but for Drake. I remember what he told me that night on the field, and I wonder how he’s doing right now, especially since it’s homecoming. Maybe I should have texted him to wish him good luck, to let him know I’m rooting for him.
As the teams settle on their respective sidelines, I notice number twelve jumping up and down on the green turf. He’s rubbing his hands together like he’s cold, and breathing into them as his eyes scan the stands.
I feel a knee in my back and spin around, slightly annoyed. “Hey.” It’s the girl with shoulder-length blonde hair who I’ve seen around Drake before. “Is that Drake’s jersey?”
“Yes it is,” Rachel answers for me, not bothering to even turn around.
Before I turn back to the field, I notice the girl mouth “wow” as her eyes continue to take me in. “Don’t get to used to it. It’s not like you’re the first girl
to show up here with that on. In fact, I will almost bet you that it’s back on me by next weekend.”
Rachel turns around, her hands closed in fists. “You know what, Olivia, I’m here every weekend, and I’ve never seen you or anyone else wearing his number.”
Olivia makes a clucking sound with her tongue as she looks away from us. I spin around, intent on enjoying the game.
“Don’t listen to her. But for the record, I still can’t believe he wanted you to wear that,” Rachel says, loud enough that only I can hear it.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not so much that he gave it to you, but that he gave it to anyone at all. He doesn’t give many people the time of day.” I kind of know this. I’ve known him long enough to see how he is.
“I think he has a lot going on,” I say, watching Drake lead the offense out to the field for the first time.
Kate leans in next to my other ear. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but Olivia had a fling with him last year. And when I say fling, I mean, they had sex at a party, and he didn’t even ask her name the next morning when he woke up. He told Beau about it because she won’t leave him alone.”
Bile rises from my stomach when I think about him doing that to anyone. Why is it that I can’t see it? Why is he different around me? “We’re not like that. I mean, we’re not dating so you don’t have to worry about me.”
Kate stares down at the football field and points her finger for me to look, a huge grin on her face. “We’ll see. Besides, something tells me he wouldn’t do that to you.”
I follow the direction of her gaze and see Drake with his hand over his eyes, looking up to where I sit with my friends. When he sees me, he smirks and then walks off to join his teammates in the huddle.
Rachel bumps her shoulder against mine. “Looks like someone is happy you made it.”
I smile, wrapping my arms around my body to shield myself from the cool breeze that’s whirling around the stadium.
I don’t know a thing about how football works besides the little things that Drake’s told me, but Kate and Rachel give me a play-by-play, allowing me to catch on quickly. The teams are pretty evenly matched in the first half, tying each other over and over again, until the very end when Southern Iowa captures the lead. Watching Drake take his team down the field is an adrenaline rush. If I’m feeling like this from the bleachers, I can’t imagine what it feels like for him.
At halftime, his team heads toward the locker room, but Drake stays behind, talking to one of the brunette cheerleaders who’s been cheering on our end of the field the entire half. A burning sensation fills my chest, surprising me yet again. Why do I feel this way about a guy I can never have? The breeze blows some hair into my eyes, but I quickly shove it away as I turn my back to the field, unable to see him anymore.
I hate feeling jealous, and of all people to get jealous over, why does it have to be Drake? I know better than to let myself get hung up on a guy like him. Especially after hearing about Olivia and the way he treated her. Little Miss Short Skirt down there is probably his plan for the evening.
“Do you want to grab a drink or something?” Kate asks, holding her hair back from her face.
“I think I’m going to use the restroom.” At this point, I don’t even know if I want to stay for the second half because being here doesn’t feel right anymore.
As I start toward the cement stairs, I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin back around. It’s the cheerleader Drake was talking to on the field. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” She slips a small piece of paper in my hand and quickly disappears.
“What’s that?” Kate asks over my shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
I unfold the note, immediately recognizing Drake’s handwriting.
Folding it back up, I hold it against my chest. Every time I’m about to give up on him, he reins me back in. And if he thinks that little gestures like this are going to earn him points, he’s probably right.
AS THE WARM WATER FALLS on my back, I relive the final plays of the game in my head. Wisconsin stormed back after halftime, taking the lead, and I struggled with almost every pass I threw in the third quarter. I came back strong in the fourth, though, and in the final minute of the game, down by one point, I got my chance to lead my team down the field.
It’s when I excel … when I have the most pressure on me. I threw four perfect passes, the last one in the end zone to give my team the win. It was closer than I would have liked, but in the end, all that matters is getting the win. How we got there isn’t as important.
“Chambers, are you going to the party tonight?” It’s Trip, my center. The guy likes to have a good time just like most of my other teammates, but he’s cool.
“Maybe.” I shut the shower off, grabbing my towel from the hook.
“There’s no maybes today, man. Donovan invited two sororities, and I hate to tell you this, but you need to get laid.”
“Shut up,” I say, walking toward the locker with my last name spelled across the top.
“And that’s why,” he shouts, laughing behind me.
In football, your teammates are like your brothers. You do anything for each other to keep the team unified, even if that means going to a party you’d rather skip.
When I wrote the note earlier inviting Emery to meet me tonight, I wasn’t sure whether she would show up or not. I’ve messed with her a lot, and she’s probably thinking this is just one of those times.
I pull on my faded blue jeans and a green polo, topping it all off with a brown blazer that Coach insists we wear to and from the field on game day to keep up a professional appearance.
As I slide on my brown dress shoes, I glance around the locker room, watching most of my teammates leave. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, I’m worried she’s not going to show. It’s easier to sit inside and tell myself she might be out there waiting for me, than to actually see she’s not.
After waiting a couple more minutes, I gather up my gym bag and head out the door.
Holding my breath, I glance up and down the hall, looking for any sign of her. She’s not here. The game ended almost forty-five minutes ago, and she’s had more than enough time to make it down here.
I guess this is what I get for sticking my neck out, for taking a chance, and most importantly, for being an asshole. Only one girl in nineteen years has truly interested me, and I fucking blew it before anything ever started.
“Drake.”
As I spin around, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. She’s standing a few feet in front of me, and I have to admit my jersey has never looked so good.
“Hi,” I say, quieter than I intended. She takes a few steps in my direction, causing one side of my mouth to turn up. She looks so damn hot, and for a second, I let myself picture her in nothing but my jersey. It’s never going to happen, but a guy can dream.
“You take a little longer in the shower than the other guys,” she teases, nervously brushing some of hair behind her ear.
This time, I’m the one to close some of the space between us. I use my fingertips to move a few strands of hair she missed, causing her to briefly close her eyes. “I was giving you time to get down here.”
She smiles, tilting her head to the side. “You thought I wasn’t going to show?”
I laugh, avoiding her eyes the way I’m about to avoid the truth. “Nah, I knew you’d show. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Of course, who wouldn’t want to spend the night with me?”
“You’re probably right but, if I spend the night with you, I’ll probably never want to do it again,” she teases, stepping back far enough that I can’t touch her, which is probably a good idea on her part.
“Okay, smartass, let’s get out of here. We have plans.” I start down the hall, not grabbing her hand like I have in the past when we were alone. I invited her to go with me tonight because I know she’d never go to a
party like the one we’re about to experience on her own. I also know that I’ll have a much better time if she’s with me … I want to get to know her better.
There’s a connection I feel toward her, but I also know we can’t be more than friends. There have been times I’ve wished I’d met her at a different point in my life—a time when I had less pressure, and things were stable. I think if given the opportunity, we could have something really fucking good between us.
But, I’ve got my drawbacks, and she deserves someone better than me.
When we step out onto the parking lot, there are a few players still lingering about. I’m not ashamed of Emery, but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about why we’re together so I place my hand on her lower back, hurrying us along. This is the first time I’ve ever been near them with a girl who I’m serious about … one I actually want to have a real friendship with. The last thing I want is for Emery to be a part of their stupid fucking locker room chatter. She doesn’t deserve that, and she’s certainly not going to become the team’s latest ping-pong ball.
Quickly opening the passenger door, I use my hand to guide her into the seat and shut the door before hurrying to the driver’s side. I make sure no one is watching us before climbing inside.
I pull my car out of the lot before looking over at Emery. Her elbow is propped up against the door, her forehead resting against her closed fist. I’d say she’s not very happy right now.
“Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She won’t even look at me.
My temper starts to creep up as I grip my steering wheel tighter in my hands. I always have the best intentions, but my execution sucks. “Look, I’m sorry about what just happened. I don’t want the guys to get the wrong idea about you.”
Her head snaps in my direction, a confused look on her face. “Wrong idea about what?”