I wait alone for a few minutes until the crowd dies down, and then I make a move. My boots carry me toward my man, and I jump into his awaiting arms. “You did so good babe!” I kiss his soft lips.
“Thanks. It was a good game.”
He’s so modest.
“What did the scouts say? Are they interested in you? I’m dying here. Fill me in on the details, buddy.”
He lowers me to the ground. “They said that I have a good arm and they’re interested in seeing more from me. They’re going to call me next week to schedule a visit.”
“Holy smokes! You’re going to be famous.” I see a gleam of interest flash in his eyes. “Babe, be proud of yourself for once. You carry this team, whether you want to admit it or not. You deserve this.”
“I hear ya. Come on let’s go back to my place.”
“You’re not going to shower here?” I ask, curious. He always showers here after a game. Ryle swings me into the circle of his arms. It’s my favorite place.
His gaze settles on me before his mouth opens. “We’re going to shower at my place.”
There’s a trace of laughter stitched in my voice. “But I’m not dirty.”
He tugs his hand away from mine and leans down. I watch him intently, wondering what in the world he’s doing. He straightens up with dirt caking the tips of his fingers.
“Oh, no! You better not.” Before I can dodge his hand, he smears dirt across the bridge of my nose. His fingers move to my cheeks, and just like that, I’m dirty. “You don’t play fair.”
“Yes I do. You just watched me win that game fair and square.”
“Asshole.” I mutter, while rubbing the dirt from my face and wiping my hands on his chest.
“I never claimed to be anything but. Good thing you heart me, huh?”
My heart pitter-patters in my chest as I look into his sincere eyes and nod. “Come on A-Rod, let’s go shower.” He laces my fingers with his and we head toward the locker room to retrieve his bag.
That was the best shower I’ve ever had, I think as I towel dry my hair and stare in the mirror at a very naked Ryle. Full frontals are the best.
“You didn’t have to rub dirt all over my face,” I laugh. “You know I would have gotten into the shower with you.”
“Yeah. I know, but you looked so cute with a brown nose.”
I slide open a drawer on the right side of his vanity. It houses a small collection of my items – a brush…toothpaste… I run my hands through my tangled hair and feel a pair of lips kiss the back of my head. “What was that for?”
“For being here. For caring about me despite my flaws. For never missing a home game.”
I sense his vulnerability as I turn around and place my lips against his. “I’m here for the long haul. You don’t have to worry about me leaving. It’s me who is worried that you’re going to go pro and leave me in the dust.”
Oh, the joys of teenage insecurities.
“Remember that movie we saw…what was it? The boat one.” I watch as he draws his lips in.
“Titanic?”
“Yes, that one. If you sink, I sink.”
I throw my head back and let out an enormous laugh. “That’s not the line, but I applaud you for your efforts. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I don’t want to tarnish tonight— your big night—with my silliness. Get dressed, and let’s go celebrate babe.”
Within fifteen minutes, we’re dressed and walking hand-in-hand toward Ryle’s car. We listen to the radio as he drives to Tank’s dorm. We are not surprised to see that the outside of the building is littered with students. Braxton wasn’t advertised as a party college, but hey, I’m not complaining. It’s been the best experience of my life.
We park the car around the back of the building, because Ryle’s always worried that his precious baby is going to get scratched. As we near the door, we hear people shouting. It’s not out of the normal, but it gets our attention.
“Zo-e!”
“Zo-e!”
My eyes widen as I see Zoe’s legs being held in the air, her mouth full of plastic. She’s doing a keg stand. Nice. It’s going to be one of those nights. Since I took a vow of sobriety, I’ve basically been designated as the campus babysitter. Ryle and I have taken home umpteen drunken idiots in the last few weeks. It seems like with each win the boys bring home, the partiers get more wasted. At the last party we attended, we stopped two cat fights and interrupted a dude peeing off the balcony.
The alcohol is flowing, which means things are sure to escalate fast.
“Let’s go over there,” Ryle says as he points to the most unpopulated corner of the room. Taking Adaley’s hand, he guides her through a mosh pit full of people dancing like maniacs.
“Shesh.” Adaley says as she cuddles up next to his side. “This is insane. To think that I used to be one of those girls.” Ryle follows her pointed finger to a duo of drunken sorority girls shaking their moneymakers on top of a wooden slab.
“See why I got so pissed that night?”
“Calm down, killer. My feet are planted firmly on the floor tonight.”
The party commences and continues until the wee hours of the night. With his phone in hand, Ryle makes sure that people either call a cab or hitch a ride with someone who isn’t plastered. If there’s one thing he hates to see, it is drunks and druggies. To this day he’s never taken a sip of alcohol or swallowed a pill that was stronger than an Ibuprofen. In his mind, they impair people all the same.
“Come on baby, I think that’s the last of everyone.”
“Wait, where’d Zoe go?” Adaley’s eyes frantically roam the room searching for her friend.
“I made her a cot on Tank’s floor. They’re both passed out.”
She strokes his forearm. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“I do.” He winks and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home. I have an early day at the center tomorrow, and I want to make sure you’re tucked in.”
“You’re so sweet,” she whispers, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Very sober and very tired, Ryle helps Adaley into the car and then heads toward her dorm. It’s a short drive, but by the time he pulls up in front of her building, she is sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he picks up her tiny body and cradles her to his chest. Adaley relaxes in his embrace and, as he rides the elevator up to her floor, he is careful not to wake her. Ryle curses under his breath as he realizes her dorm door isn’t locked. He feels like he’s warned her a hundred times about it.
I know what guys my age are capable of.
Using his foot to close the door behind him, he lays Adaley on her bed and removes her sandals.
He leans forward and kisses her forehead. “Goodnight, Adaley. I heart you,” he whispers, assuming that she’s dead to the world.
“I love you,” she mutters in her sleep, lifting her arm over her head.
Ryle is momentarily frozen in shock. She loves him? He debates waking her up and begging her to say it to his face. The sound of something tumbling to the floor grabs his attention. With a sweep of his hand, he picks up a pill bottle from the floor. Reading the label, he finds out that Adaley has an empty prescription of Hydrocodone. In a rush, he fumbles with the bottle. He pulls out his cell phone and searches the drug’s name.
Hydrocodone is an opioid pain medication. An opioid is sometimes called a narcotic.
Adaley has been taking a prescription drug, and he didn’t know about it? Why is she on this? How did he miss the fact that his own girlfriend was on drugs? Question after question runs rapidly through his mind until his face is red and his body is trembling.
She knows how he feels about drugs and people who use them. She knows what happened to his biological mother, yet she still kept her use a secret. An anger that he didn’t know he could process flares. Tossing the bottle onto the bed, he turns and marches to the door. Flinging it open, he tilts his head and takes one last look at the girl he’d thought he was in love wit
h.
Love was deceiving. He knew it then, and he knows it now. Adaley is living proof of that.
“I feel like death.” Zoe moans.
“You look like a zombie, so I totally believe you.”
“Why are you so damn chipper?” She stretches in her bed, exposing an ample amount of skin.
“I don’t know. I guess I slept good.” I shrug. “Ryle’s at the center this morning, so do you want to shower and go get something to eat?”
“Sure. Just give me ten.”
I watch as Zoe pulls herself upright and saunters to the bathroom. I wonder how many keg stands she did. I of all people, know that they’re bad for your health.
Making my bed, I notice my pill bottle lid is lying on the floor, and the empty bottle is resting on my blanket. Strange. I finish tidying up my side of the room and pull a sweater over my head.
“Zoe, are you alive?” No answer. “If I have to come wash your back, I’m going to be mad!” I hear a soft moan. It’s not a verbal answer, but I know that she’s still kickin’.
I blow out a huff of air and sit in the computer chair. Looking at my phone, the battery is almost in the red. I plug it into my laptop and hit my message app. There are no new messages. Ryle always texts me good morning. Maybe he was running late.
Me: Morning babe.
I spin around in my chair and wait for his response. After a few seconds with no response, I text him again.
Me: Thx for tucking me in. I feel amazing this morning. You’re prob busy with Richie. Tell him I said hi and call me later. <3 U.
After a few minutes of spinning aimlessly, Zoe finally emerges from the bathroom looking a little more alive. “She’s alive!”
“Shh… I need quiet.” Grabbing her purse, she swings it over her neck and walks toward the door. We walk in silence toward the café near our building. It’s too chilly to sit outside and enjoy our coffee, so we walk back toward our dorm.
“I thought Mississippi was hot year-round.”
Taking a sip from her drink she looks up. “We all have our good days and bad days.” Her response seems more about her current state of mind than the actual weather.
We spend the rest of the afternoon binge watching rom-coms and sipping homemade root beer floats. Classy, I know.
“Where’s Ryle? You two are normally connected at the hip.”
I shoot her a sneer. “Whatever! We just like to hang out. Don’t hate.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m not hating. It gives me and Kaiser time to screw on every surface in this room. He’s been acting different lately, so I’ve been trying to show him a lot of affection, if you know what I mean.”
I look around. There are only two beds, two desks and a mini fridge. “Please tell me you didn’t bang on my bed?”
“Your bed, no. Your desk, yes.”
“That is so wrong.”
Tank swings open our door. “What’s so wrong?” he asks as he strolls in and plops down on my bed.
“Your sister had sex on my desk.”
His nose scrunches, and he lets out an agonizing moan. “Was it with Kaiser?” Zoe nods, and he continues. “Well at least it wasn’t with that quack, Brad.”
“You guys are so weird.” I need some space, or my brain is going to explode. “Tank, have you seen Ryle today?”
“Sure have, little lady.”
“Did you go to the center?” I pry.
“Nope. Getting shot up while walking down the street isn’t really my thing.”
Anxiety twists in my gut. I know Ryle can handle himself, but what if some punks jumped him or something awful happened? I decide to drive out there and see if everything is okay. I hit my Internet app and type in the name of the center. The address populates, and I grab my keys and purse. “I’ll be back guys. I have some errands to run.”
They nod, and I’m out the door, speed walking to my car. With my GPS turned on, I pull onto the road. It takes me a little longer to get to my destination than it did when Ryle drove us. He knows these roads like the back of his hand. I on the other hand do not, and to tell you the truth, I’m a little scared to venture to the rough side of town alone.
The center comes into sight. I look right and left, but don’t spot his car anywhere. Too frightened to sit in the car by myself, I quickly jump out and sprint inside.
“Hi Miss Adaley,” I’m greeted by an elderly woman that I vaguely recall meeting on my first visit here.
“Hi. I’m here to see Ryle. Is he around?”
“Oh, honey, you just missed him. He and Richie went to an early movie. He’s right over there,” she points to where the small boy stands.
“Can I talk to him?”
She pushes a pad of paper toward me. “Of course you can, but you know the rules. You have to sign in first.”
After signing in, I walk over toward where I saw Richie standing a second ago. He’s no longer there. He’s nowhere in sight. “Richie!” I call out. A little girl notices me and grabs my hand. Slowly she walks us toward the direction of a small tent. I squeeze her hand to say thank you and bend down. Peeking inside, I find Richie. “There you are. Were you hiding from me?” I shouldn’t be surprised that he still doesn’t respond. Ryle said it might take him a while to warm up to me, but goodness. “I just wanted to see if you had fun with Ryle today?”
Still nothing.
I decide to sit down beside him in the small tent. Maybe he feels threatened by me. After a few minutes of silence, I start to get up. This is ridiculous. As I start to rise, a small hand snakes around my wrist.
“You made him sad and if he doesn’t like you anymore, then I don’t like you either.” Without another word, he crawls out of the tent and runs into another room.
I made Ryle sad?
I didn’t even drink last night. What in the world would I have done to upset him?
I stalk out of the building with my phone in my hand. As soon as I’m safe behind my wheel, I lock my doors and dial his number. Voicemail. I call it again. Voicemail.
Where are you Ryle?
I take off in the direction of his parents. If he’s not there, then I’ll go to his apartment. I speed down the road, no longer caring if I get pulled over or aren’t familiar with the roads. Their house comes into sight, but there are no cars in the driveway. I jump out and ring the doorbell repeatedly like a mad woman. Nothing. Radio silence.
“This is insane,” I huff while walking back to my car. I hit Tank’s name and press call before slamming my door shut. The window rattles.
“Hello, beautiful,” he greets.
“Dude, where did you see Ryle? I can’t find him anywhere and for some reason, he won’t return my texts or calls.”
“Coach called a mandatory meeting at seven a.m. I saw him then. What’s going on? Why does it sound like you’re crying?”
“Because I am crying. Richie told me that Ryle was mad at me.”
“Richie, as in the little dude he mentors?” he asks trying to make sense of my story. “What does he have to do with any of this?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Bye.” I hang up the phone and beat my steering wheel. It’s the only thing around to hit.
Pulling a psycho girlfriend move, I screech back onto the road and take off en route to Ryle’s apartment. If he isn’t there, I give up. The drive is short due to my manic behavior and lead foot. Skidding into a spot, I see his car. I don’t care if I have black mascara running down my face. I run to his apartment and bang on the door. “Ryle! Open the door.” My fist hits the wooden frame repeatedly. “Please, open the door. We need to talk.” I hear footsteps before the door swings open. My bottom jaw hits the welcome mat below my feet. “What…what are you doing here?” I stammer.
“What does it look like I’m doing here?”
My eyes rake her up and down. All she’s wearing is a T-shirt – one of Ryle’s T-shirts. I recognize it, because I’ve worn it before. “Where is he?”
She smiles, wide. “He’s in the shower.”
Bile rises in my throat. It’s on the verge of spilling.
“Naomi, who’s here?” I spot Ryle standing in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist. He really was in the shower, and she’s wearing his clothes.
Oh. My. God. This cannot be happening. He’s been cheating on me with her? I’m such a fool. I should have seen it coming. I’m going to… Puke leaks out of my mouth and hits the concrete on the bottom level. My nose and throat burn, but it’s a dull comparison to the ache that guts my heart.
I wipe my mouth and turn around. My boots slide against the pavement as I make a mad dash to my car. Do not turn around, Adaley. I jump in my car and lock the doors. Burying my face in my hands, I cry ugly, giant crocodile tears. I should have never left home. I should have stayed with Mark. At least I know he wouldn’t cheat on me. I straighten up in my seat and slide my gearstick into reverse. My bumper almost collides with Ryle’s kneecaps and for a split second, I really consider gunning it and running him over.
“Adaley!” he shouts my name while pulling a sweatshirt over his head. “Roll the damn window down.”
I tilt my head and look at the man I love through the driver’s side window. I can barely see his face through the steady stream of my tears. “What do you have to say that will make any of this better?”
“Excuse me?”
“You and her,” I whisper. “I should have seen it. I should have listened to her all those times that she taunted me about the two of you.”
“She’s a fucking liar, Adaley. I was about to take a shower when she showed up. Meredith and Thomas’s washer broke. They’re out buying a new one now, and Meredith asked if Naomi could come wash some clothes. What was I supposed to say, no? She needed a shirt, so I tossed one at her. She’s using our troubles to her advantage.”
“What troubles, Ryle? I thought we were fine. What happened last night, because I don’t remember anything? We had fun, and then you brought me home.
His stare drills into me. “You honest to God don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
Bad Intentions Page 19