Make It Count

by Megan Erickson

  Alec paused and licked his lips. His eyes shifted away before returning to her face. He shook his head. “My dad was a cop. He was killed on duty by a drunk driver when I was five.”

  Kat sucked in a breath. Oh no. “I’m so sorry.” She pictured five-year-old Alec, all big green eyes and dark hair, dressed in a little suit at his hero father’s funeral, holding his mom’s hand as well-wishers gave their condolences in a stuffy church among foul-smelling bouquets. And . . . now her eyes were watering.

  Alec’s eyebrows snapped together and he leaned forward. “Are you crying?”

  “No!” she protested, but her voice shook and the tears spilled over. Oh jeez, now she looked like an emotional basket case.

  “Aw, Kat. It’s okay. I mean, I was really young . . .” His voice died when she hiccupped a sob. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Christ, if I knew you were going to cry I wouldn’t have told you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kat blubbered. “I’m glad you told me. I feel stupid, because shouldn’t you be the one crying while I comfort you and we talk about the lasting effects of your father’s death on your psyche?”

  Alec paused and then laughed. Laughed! While she was a teary mess. The nerve.

  His eyes softened as he took in her face. “You might be the only one who can make me laugh after I just talked about my father.”

  Alec propped a leg up on the bed, facing her. They were chest to chest, and he leaned in, his face inches from hers, his hands on either side of her head, wiping her tears. His thumbs caressed her cheeks, leaving behind streaks of heat with every touch that echoed throughout her body.

  “I don’t really tell people about him, or that he’s the reason I want to be a lawyer.”

  She let the why hang between them unspoken until he answered. “The guy who killed him got out of a previous drunk driving conviction on a technicality because of an inexperienced defense lawyer and a lax judge.” He took a deep breath. “I want to prevent other families from going through what I went through, or make sure that whatever bastard takes away their family gets put away for a long time.”

  “God, that’s . . .” she shook her head. “That’s amazing. That you took what happened and turned it into something positive, something that fuels your ambition.”

  His smile was slow and when she smiled back, his eyes dipped to her lips.

  The heat on every inch of her skin intensified and she knew this moment had to end. She was too close to the fire. Way too flipping close, because she could barely focus through the desire to put her lips on his, to mean something to this man who lived his life with purpose.

  Alec’s smile dimmed and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. His thumbs lowered from her cheek and swiped her bottom lip once.

  “We crossed the line five minutes ago, didn’t we?” he whispered.

  “I think so, because I can’t see it anymore,” she whispered back.

  “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The high-pitched guitar rift of Sweet Child o’ Mine pierced the heat between them like an iceberg of Titanic-sinking proportions, and they both reared back. Kat fumbled on her bed for her phone and quickly answered it without looking at the caller ID. Alec stood abruptly with his back to her, and she stared at his shoulders as she answered her phone. “Hello?”

  “Babe.” Max’s voice cut through her.

  “Hey, Max,” she said softly. Alec’s shoulders tensed, and he quickly began to gather his things and shove them into his book bag, his back still turned to her. She closed her eyes slowly as Max talked.

  “What was the name of your oral communications professor? The one who always had the white spittle on his mouth, and it made you want to gag?”

  Was this really happening? She couldn’t do this. She felt like a total, awful cow.

  “Um . . . Worrel.”

  “Ah! That’s it,” Max said, then his voice was muffled when he yelled. “Cam, it’s Worrel!”

  “You couldn’t have texted me to ask me that?”

  “I have Cheeto dust on my fingers. I speed-dialed you with my chin.” There was the distinct sound of a crowd cheering, probably coming from the TV. “Shit, Hammonds just took a puck to the face! Gotta go.” The line clicked off.

  Kat remained motionless, phone pressed to her ear. Alec’s entire back was tense, the muscles practically quivering through the thin T-shirt. Finally, he turned around, and he looked as guilty as she felt.

  Kat held his eyes, biting her lip, body exhausted from the high to low emotions coursing through her.

  Alec threw his glasses on her desk and collapsed in her desk chair. He ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed his face. “What are we doing?”

  “I—”

  Alec looked up sharply. “Max is my best friend and has been since elementary school. I can’t . . . I can’t do this to him.”

  Kat’s stomach churned and she looked away, the sting of tears threatening. “I don’t cheat. Despite what this looks like.”

  Alec’s face clouded, and he tensed his jaw. “I gotta go.” He reached for his book bag and then whirled back to face her. “But, I need to tell you that you deserve better than him.”

  She blinked. “Why do you think that? What do you even know about me?”

  His face hardened and his jaw ticked. He lunged forward, hands fisted on her bed on either side of her hips, his nose touching hers. “I know you squint your eyes when you’re about to say something funny. I know you snort when you laugh, especially when you laugh at your own jokes. I know you go on crazy cute rants about your hair whispies and covered Segways. I know you’re in college because you fiercely want to be your own person and decide your own future. And I know you are, without a doubt, the hottest, most interesting girl I’ve ever met. I know you, Kat. Don’t doubt that.”

  She wasn’t breathing. There was no way air entered and released from her lungs. Did her heart stop, too? Every word was like a sledgehammer to the meticulously crafted, carefree Kat Caruso veneer. She didn’t know what Alec saw, but she knew it certainly wasn’t the face she wore for everyone else.

  All she could see were Alec’s bottomless pupils, blown wide as they studied her face. What would it be like to be able to wake up to those eyes? For them to look at her every day with the admiration they held now?

  She didn’t know if she could take the leap. Max or other boyfriends put her down? She let it roll off her back. But Alec? With him, she knew he’d see the real her. Judge her without any of the protections she’d learned to keep in place. Once he really got to know her, would he be like all the rest? Would he tire of her? Because if he did, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

  But none of that mattered now, because she still had a boyfriend and Alec had made it clear his loyalty was to Max.

  Alec grunted in frustration and pulled back. He grabbed his book bag and started for the door.

  “Alec,” she called.

  He turned back around.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  His hands clenched and unclenched around the straps of his book bag at his shoulder and he rolled his jaw. “Me too.” Then he walked out.

  Chapter Twelve

  ALEC BLEW THROUGH the common area of Kat’s suite, ignoring the stares of her roommates.

  When he got to his car, he turned it on, blasting the heat.

  And then he sat.

  What was he thinking, getting involved with Kat? He’d been loyal to Max since elementary school. He never thought of himself as a guy who tried to steal other guy’s girlfriends. What did that say about him? The guilt clawed at his gut and he wanted to hurl.

  He yelled in frustration, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. Other than Max, Danica, and his mom, he’d never spoken to another person about the death of his father. But with one look from Kat’s big blue eyes, he’d vomited out his whole heart.

  And how hypocritical to let things get this far with Kat, w
hen he despised cheaters with every cell in his body.

  Unable to think of even facing Max, he put his car in gear and drove in the opposite direction.

  Danica lived in the new apartments built on the outskirts of campus. Brickside Apartments rose tall and dark in the dusky evening.

  He parked outside, and ran up the steps to the second floor. He pounded on the door and continued to pound until a voice yelled. “Cool your shit! I’m coming!”

  Danica flung open the door, irritation in every line of her face until she saw it was him. “Stone?”

  “Can you talk?”

  Danica held the door against her hip and peered over her shoulder. “Mon! You need to go. I gotta take care of something.”

  Something in the apartment thudded and there were sounds of shuffling. A petite Asian girl appeared behind Danica, frowning. “You’re seriously kicking me out for a guy?”

  Danica rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest, Monica. He’s a friend. I’ll call you later.”

  Monica huffed and Danica grabbed her around the neck, planting a rather heated kiss on her lips. It was a testament to Alec’s depression that the sight did nothing for him.

  Monica sighed in acquiescence, but turned an intense glare on Alec as she sidled past him out the door.

  Danica flung the door open and retreated back into the apartment. “Get your ass in here and this better be an emergency.”

  “Was that your girlfriend? She’s pretty.”

  “Did you come here to talk about my love life?”

  “No.”

  Danica flopped onto her couch. “That’s what I thought.”

  Alec sank into the corner of the couch and leaned his head against the back rest. He mulled the words in his head, unsure where to start.

  “So, who pissed in your Cheerios? I thought Max was housebroken.”

  Alec snorted a laugh, but stayed silent.

  “Stone—”

  “I almost kissed Kat,” he blurted cutting her off.

  Silence.

  He raised his head and Danica’s eyes, a light gray, were wide. “Is gray your real eye color?”

  “Yes. Now how did this happen?”

  He gave her an abridged version of the evening’s events in Kat’s bedroom.

  “Whoa.”

  “Is that all you have to say? Whoa?”

  “You’re a big boy, Stone. Actually, you’re a twenty-one-year-old man. Grow a pair.”

  “Fuck you. It’s not that easy. She’s my best—”

  “Blah blah, best friend’s girlfriend, Jessie’s girl, blah blah,” Danica flapped her hand like a puppet.

  “It’s a big deal, Dan!”

  “I know, Stone! Here’s the question. Do you want to hook up with her or do you actually like her? Do you want to have a relationship with her?”

  “I want all the things with her.” He said the first thing that popped into his head.

  “All the things?”

  “Well, obviously, I want to . . .”

  “Hit that?” Danica smirked.

  Alec blinked. “Um . . . sure Miss Vocab. But yeah, I’d like to date her. I like her. She makes me laugh. And I admire her.”

  Danica’s expression grew serious. “You like her more than you liked Carrie?”

  Alec thought about that. “I don’t know. I mean, I thought I loved Carrie. But looking back, I don’t even know the Alec who was Carrie’s boyfriend. I don’t know . . . maybe the first time someone stabs you in the heart, you grow up a little. But I can look back now and see it for what it was—just high-school infatuation.”

  “And Kat’s different?”

  “I’m not just infatuated with her. I don’t think of trying to get her in my backseat to screw her. I want to be with her. Plan a future . . .” The truth struck him in the gut. The last girl he’d wanted to plan a future with had cheated on him. Shit, this was getting too real and too scary.

  “What does she want?”

  Alec sighed. “I don’t know. I feel so guilty doing all this shit behind Max’s back. Doesn’t this make me just like Carrie?”

  Danica shook her head. “First of all, you didn’t actually do anything. Second of all, from what I understand, Max and Kat do not have the kind of relationship you and Carrie did. Hadn’t you planned to be with her for, like, ever?”

  “At the time.”

  “Max and Kat?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’ve never even talked about what they’re going to do this summer.”

  Danica snorted. “Well, there you go. Look, nothing happened, all right? She’s still your best friend’s girlfriend for now.”

  Alec leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. “My head hurts. Can I stay here tonight?”

  “I have a futon in my room that pulls out into a bed. My roommate won’t care.”

  He opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side. “Thanks, Dan.”

  She punched his arm. “Anytime, Stone.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ALEC BLINKED HIS eyes, slowly waking up. He yawned and rolled onto his back. The loud sound of breathing was somewhere above his position on the futon. He rubbed his eyes, opened them, and stared into a pair of eyes, one blue and one brown.

  “Holy shit!” He bolted upright, slamming his forehead into the abomination above him.

  “Ow!” howled the creature, who sounded suspiciously like Danica. She clapped her hand onto her forehead. “What the hell, Stone?”

  “You’re saying what the hell to me?” He rubbed his own forehead. “You are standing over me, mouth-breathing like a freak, and what the fuck is up with your eyes!?”

  Danica pushed her hair out of her face and widened her eyes at him. “You don’t like them? I decided to switch up my contacts today.”

  “Um, if you naturally had different-colored eyes, it would be fine. However, since you don’t, you look like a Siberian husky.”

  Danica frowned and walked over to her mirror, cocking her head back and forth as she studied her reflection. “Really?”

  “Yep. When’s the Iditarod, Fido?”

  “I hate you.” Danica stomped into her bathroom. Grumbles and slamming drawers came from the bathroom before she emerged with two blue eyes. “Happy now?”

  “I’m just being honest,” he said, rising from the futon and stretching with his arms over his head. Danica took advantage of his insecure position and punched him in the kidney.

  “Ow! Enough with the abuse. I slept like shit.”

  “Really? I think the futon’s pretty comfy.”

  “It wasn’t the futon, it was those things.” He gestured toward the row of wig-wearing mannequin heads on her dresser. “I kept thinking those things were going to come alive and beg me to save them.”

  Danica ignored him and headed out of her bedroom door. “Put on some pants, Stone. We can get some work done before your first class.”

  Half an hour later, after a shower, bagels and coffee, Alec and Danica huddled over their mock trial notes.

  “This case seems cut and dry. I mean, makeup residue, texting, speeding,” Danica said.

  “Yeah, but I’m sure the defense will easily claim she put her makeup on when the car wasn’t in motion. And the texts that were made were several minutes before the accident, Alec said.”

  Danica narrowed her eyes. “Which side are you on?”

  He laughed. “Just playing devil’s advocate. I’m worried they’re going to argue the construction site wasn’t clearly marked. We should make sure we have all the details on where the signs and cones were set up.”

  Danica squinted at him, then dropped her head to scribble some notes. “Damn, you’re smart.”

  “I try.”

  After finishing up her notes, Danica took a sip of her coffee. “So aside from taking advantage of your position of superiority and sexually harassing your student, how is tutoring Kat going?”

  Alec flipped her the finger. Danica smirked. “Seriously.”

  He tapped his p
en on his textbook. “It’s going pretty well. There’s just . . .” he trailed off, unsure how to say what was on his mind. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  Alec continued to tap his pen until Danica slammed her hand on top of it. “Okay, it’s something about the way she studies that’s bothering me. Or, I guess it’s making me think something isn’t quite the way it seems.”

  Danica took her hand off his pen. “What do you mean?”

  Alec bit his lip. “She seems to avoid reading out loud to me. Is that weird? And there are a couple of times she has read out loud, and she doesn’t read the correct words or numbers.”

  “Really,” Danica said slowly.

  “Yeah. And she’s not dumb. When I explain things and use diagrams or graphics, she gets the concept right away. And she’s crazy imaginative. The things she comes up with are hilarious.”

  Danica began typing on the laptop in front of her. She pulled up a website and tilted the screen in his line of vision, pointing at a bulleted listing. “Do you think she has dyslexia?”

  Alec peered at the screen. “Problem in area of the brain that helps interpret language . . . specific information processing problem,” he murmured, reading aloud. “Difficulty with reading comprehension . . . yeah . . . difficulty with spelling . . . oh hell yeah, her spelling is awful . . . can overlap with attention deficit disorder.” He scrolled down the page to read a little more. According to the site, dyslexia varied greatly in severity and manifested itself differently in different people.

  But one thing was clear—from what he knew of Kat, she fit the description.

  Alec leaned back in his chair and blinked, then looked at Danica. “Yeah, but wouldn’t someone have noticed this earlier? Like a teacher or her parents?”

  Danica shrugged. “My dad has dyslexia, which is the reason I thought of it. There are cases of it being worse in adulthood and sometimes it’s just not noticed. Teachers or parents just think the student doesn’t get the concept or isn’t a good reader or writer. Who knows? It’s probably worth mentioning to her.”

  “But if she is, what does it matter? There are no medications or anything for it.”