28
Mariah
One week later ...
Subject: Another week? (Are you sure you’re okay?)
Hi, Mariah,
I hope all is well with you. Thank you for letting me know that you’ll be missing another week of school. I’m attaching the Literature assignments for this week, and you don’t have to send them all back in one day like last time.
Looking forward to you coming back to school,
Mr. Black
Advanced Lit
Subject: Knowledge Bowl ...
Good afternoon, Mariah.
As always, I remain impressed with your commitment to the team, even in your absence. :-) I’m not sure what’s been keeping you away for the past week or so, but when you know for sure you’ll be back, would you mind letting me know?
The team wants to celebrate your win of Miss Popular this week, since you missed the official vote.
(Historical fact: No winner in the past has been a member of the Knowledge Bowl team until now :-) )
Subject: Miss Popular
Good morning, Mariah.
Congratulations on winning Miss Popular! You won with eighty-four percent of the vote! WOW! :) (That was four percent more than your co-winner Liam Carter, Mr. Popular.)
My name is Miss Holt and I’m the AP Biology teacher and superlative ceremony coordinator. I tried to find you in your homeroom all this week, but I’ve heard you’re unwell. (Very sorry to hear that.) I’m attaching details about the available timeslots for the superlative pictures, so feel free to email me back with your choice.
Congratulations again,
Miss Holt
Subject: Ice cream and week two ...
I keep forgetting your phone is off. I wish you would turn it back on, at least for me!
I went around all your classes today and gave your teachers the note about missing your second week of school. They tried to get me to say what was wrong, but I didn’t give them anything. I stuck to the “really sick and not sure what it is” script.
I also bought you ice cream and I’m picking up some truffles from your mom’s bakery in a few minutes. (I can’t believe you told your mom everything ... That takes BALLS ... And I think it’s totally cool that she’s letting you stay home for as long as you want and is mad at Liam, too ... Can she adopt me? :-) )
I’ll be at your house around four-ish. Open the door for me, please ...
Kels
PS — Liam has been looking like complete and utter shit every day. Like OMG. I’ve never seen him look THIS bad and he didn’t score a single point in last night’s game. #Karma
PSS — He asked me to deliver like twenty notes to you, but I stuffed them all in a Ziploc bag. I wont give them to you, unless you ask me to. (Otherwise, we can burn them together. ;- ) ) He also mentioned something about a pink present he gave you? #whatever
29
Liam
Leaning back on a locker room bench, I check my phone for the umpteenth time today. As usual, Mariah hasn’t responded to my messages or my emails, and Kelsey has taken it upon herself to text me, “DOUCHEBAG....#KARMA,” every hour on the hour, without exception.
I sigh and toss my phone back into my bag. I’ve been completely out of it since she broke up with me, and I thought she would’ve returned to school by now. I thought she would’ve at least been there to see that we both won the highest superlative together and that maybe that was a sign. But I heard a rumor today that she didn’t even want to accept it and asked if she could pass on “Miss Popular” to Ashley Jordan.
I start re-reading through our old message threads, like I’ve done for the past two weeks, and as I’m sifting through the ones about our secret date in the park, I feel a sudden and sharp pain against my jaw.
Like someone has just punched me.
It takes me all of ten seconds to realize that someone actually has punched me. Zach.
What the fuck? I narrow my eyes at him and start to ask what gives, but he punches me again and again, and after the fourth punch, I realize he’s not stopping, so I start punching him back.
I push him into the lockers and he pushes me back, even harder into the wall.
“You were sleeping with Ryah?” He seethed, his eyes red as hell. “All this time?”
“Zach —” I manage to push him off me, but he comes charging right back, knocking me onto the bench.
“I thought we were friends, and I thought something was actually wrong with her but she’s in hiding because of your bullshit?” He gives me a swift kick in the stomach, rendering me temporarily helpless. “Because you not only cheated on her with your dumbass ex-girlfriend, but you sent out pictures of her to everyone?”
I brace my head as he kicks me again, knowing this was a long time coming. I also know that he’s probably known about this before now because he hasn’t spoken to me since me and Mariah broke up, either. He’s probably been waiting for this moment for some time.
“I don’t fuck with you anymore.” He looks more upset than I’ve ever seen him. “Championship on the line this weekend or not, I’m not passing shit to you on the court and if we do lose, you’ll be the reason why.” He looks as if he wants to say something else, but simply grabs a few towels from the bin and tosses them at me before walking out of the locker room.
Even though every part of me is in pain, I struggle to sit up when I hear my phone buzzing against the floor. I still hope every text is from Mariah, but when I pick it up, it’s only my hourly reminder.
Kelsey: DOUCHEBAG....#KARMA
***
Later that evening, I take my time walking up my porch, glancing up at Mariah’s window. Her blinds haven’t re-opened since our break-up and I’m starting to doubt they ever will.
The second I step inside, my Dad turns on the kitchen lights.
“Liam?” He calls out. “Come in here, please.”
I hold back a groan and make my way into the kitchen, noticing that he’s sitting at a table full of unopened letters.
“What the hell happened to you?” He rushes over to me. “Were you in a fight?”
“Not a fair one ...”
“Have a seat, have a seat.” He motions for me to sit at the table and grabs a few bags of frozen food from the freezer. He instructs me to hold them over my eyes, while he takes out a first-aid kit and attends to a few minor cuts on my forehead.
“Who did this to you?”
“No one,” I say.
“You beat yourself up?”
It’s starting to feel that way ... “I’ll tell you about it later. I don’t feel like getting into this right now.”
“Okay, okay. Understandable.” He places one more Band-Aid on my forehead and sits across from me. “Maybe we can talk about something else then.”
“Anything else.”
He pushed the unopened letters towards me and I glance at some of the return addresses. They are all from colleges that had sent recruiters down to see me play, all from athletic departments who wanted to do whatever it took to get me to play for their school.
“I know I can be overbearing about this,” he admits softly. “But I just don’t want you to let these opportunities pass you by. It’s like you’re not even interested.”
“It’s because I’m not interested.” I put down one of the frozen bags and start to explain myself, but I feel all my anger rushing back. And I remember what Mariah said I should do when this came up. “Can we go someplace public and talk about this?”
“You want to go in public, looking like that?”
“I really don’t have a choice, do I?” I roll my eyes, and vow to at least punch Zach in the face one good time for this shit. If he knew the complete truth, he’d be apologizing right now.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll drive.”
I take my time following him to the garage and we ride into town in silence. He parks at a small diner where not that many cars are, and we take a seat in the back.
“So ...” he say
s. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Be nice ... Be nice ...
“Basketball just isn’t my dream anymore, Dad,” I say. “Never has been, really. I mean, I get my game from you, and I enjoy most of the media attention and being the best, but I want to go to college for academics, not for sports. I’ve already been accepted into five schools based on my grades and my grades alone, and I’ll be making a final decision on that soon.”
He sighs, looking as if someone has just ripped his dream away from him.
I wait for him to tell me I’m a disappointment, that he can’t believe he’s wasted so much time talking to recruiters on my behalf, but to my surprise, he stands up and walks over to me. Then he gives me a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see this before. Well, actually, I’m sorry I saw it and acted like I couldn’t.” He lets me go and returns to his side of the booth. “I’ve got a ton of questions to ask you about this, of course, but two main ones come to mind ...”
“Yeah?”
“One, are you one hundred percent sure?” He laughs before I can respond. “I’m kidding. You seem to be very firm about your mind being made up on this. But two ...”
I raise my eyebrow, waiting for the question.
“Two, can I still meet with the recruiter from UConn this weekend? You don’t have to go, and I promise I won’t say anything about you committing there, but ... He offered to talk to me over a round of golf at the country club here and you know I’ll never be able to afford going there for a dinner, let alone a game of golf.”
I shake my head at him, but I can’t help but laugh. “Absolutely, Dad. Absolutely.”
30
Mariah
Subject: Us ...
Mariah,
I know I’m the last person you want to hear from right now, but I would love to clear things up and make everything right with you as soon as possible ...
(Even if it’s something as simple as an “Okay,” could you please respond to one of my emails?)
Love,
Liam
Subject: Re: Us....
DOUCHEBAG...#KARMA
Leave me alone,
Mariah
31
Mariah
The only reason I’m even considering going to the championship game tonight is to support Zach. That, and because Kelsey threatened to defriend me if I didn’t finally work up the courage to leave the house.
I’ve wasted two hours in the tub, trying my best to shake off the fact that almost every person at school has seen me naked, but it’s no use. I’ve hoped that the gossip train has moved onto someone else, but by my win of Miss Popular last week, it’s clear that is hasn’t.
Getting out of the tub, I slip into a pair of jeans and a blue shirt that reads, “GO, ZACH! LOVE, YOUR SIS.” I suddenly feel the need to rip up the one I had made weeks ago as a surprise for Liam, the one that says, “GO, LIAM! LOVE, YOUR GIRL” but I’ve wasted enough time tonight.
I pull my hair into a high ponytail, put on a light layer of make-up, and grab the biggest pair of sunglasses I own. I peer outside my blinds to see if Kelsey is in the driveway yet, and when she isn’t, I look around my room for my camera and stumble upon the pink box Liam gave to me weeks ago.
I kick it for the umpteenth time, wanting to toss it out, but for the life of me, I still can’t do it. I was supposed to open it on a bad day, but I’ve had a bad month, and I’ve done my best to avoid all things Liam.
Peering out of my blinds again, I notice Kelsey still isn’t here so I decide to take advantage of today’s ‘bad day’ and open it. I untie the bow at its center and take the top off the box, holding back a smile when I see a letter in his handwriting inside.
Dear Mariah,
This box is only supposed to be opened when you’re having a bad day, so I hope that’s the case right now. And if I know ‘us’ like I think I know us, your bad day is probably because something I’ve done or said, so I apologize in advance.
Anyway, I hope whatever I did to make you upset isn’t too unforgivable because I don’t think I could deal with another break up for us. And to prove that you can’t possibly deal with that either (Because you can’t ...), I’ve included a box of things to make you smile and help you remember that.
I love you,
Liam
I ignore the tear that’s currently rolling down my face, I take out the tissue paper from the box. When I see what’s inside, and I can’t ignore the tears falling down my face anymore.
He’s included a photo album of us — everything from recent pictures of us at school to old pictures of us at Camp Briar. There are pictures of me at Knowledge Bowl matches, matches I didn’t even know he was there for. And there are pictures of him standing by my locker holding up the various notes he’s sent me over the weeks.
I flip through all the pictures, smiling as the memories come to life and when I get to the last page, I can’t help but laugh. He’s photo-shopped a picture of us standing next to each other wearing crowns on our heads, and he’s written, “You’ll always be MY Miss Popular ... Love, Liam” underneath.
Under the photo album there are gift-cards for my favorite ice cream and coffee shops, and at the very bottom, there seems to be some type of dark blue cloth.
I pull it out and realize it’s his letterman jacket.
“Mariah!” Kelsey yells at me from downstairs. “Mariah, you didn’t hear me honking my horn from outside?”
“No, sorry!” I return the photo album and gift-cards to the box. Then, against my better judgment, I put on Liam’s letterman jacket and head downstairs.
32
Liam
The locker room is completely silent tonight. It’s halftime, the night of the national championship game and there’s no enthusiasm, excitement, or looming anticipation for the second half. And I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re currently down by twenty-five points.
Coach paces the floor, tapping his pen against his clipboard and then he stops right in front of Zach.
“What the fuck are you doing out there, son?” He glares at him. “Do I need to carefully explain that in order to win the game, you have to pass the ball to your own goddamn teammates?”
“No, sir ...”
“No, sir?” He looks offended. “No, sir? Don’t fucking ‘no, sir’ me! I asked what the hell you’re doing out there? What. Are. You. Doing. Out. There?”
He doesn’t answer, and then Coach walks over to me.
“And you ...” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how the hell you ended up with a black eye last week, but is it damaging your eyesight that badly? Can you no longer find the hoop that the ball goes in?”
I look over at some of my teammates, expecting to see looks of sympathy, but there are none. They all looked pissed and annoyed with me and Zach, and to be honest, they have every right to be. Zach has done everything he can in the first half to not pass me the ball, and I’ve done everything in my power to shove him out of bounds behind the referees’ backs.
Hell, at one point, I overheard a score-keeper ask, “Why the hell is he fouling his own teammate? Is that allowed?”
“I don’t know if you two are scorned lovers, fighting over some girl, or just plain fucking nuts,” the coach says, “But all of us have worked way too damn hard this season to watch it go down the drain because you two no longer want to win.” He points to the door. “Get the hell out of my locker room and fix whatever the hell is wrong with you within the next five minutes. Then you can come back and join the rest of us, while we figure out a way to come back and win this shit.”
Neither of us make a move, so he walks over and opens the door.
“Get the fuck out of this locker room right now and fix it.” He seethes. “Now.”
The two of us slowly get up and I follow Zach into the hallway. I cross my arms and lean against the wall, not willing to say shit right now, and to my surprise, Zach breaks first.
“All t
his time,” he says, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you just tell me about you and Mariah?”
“So, you could’ve beat my ass sooner?”
“Well, yeah ...” He nods. “Actually, me doing it sooner probably would’ve led to us losing a game that didn’t matter instead of this one.”
“Are you being fucking serious right now?”
“Yes and no.” He looks completely genuine. “I just ... I just don’t understand why, of all people, you had to date Ryah. No offense, but she’s way too good for you. Not only that, but you went out of your way to hurt her by leaking all those pictures, and she’s thinking about transferring.”
Transferring? “I didn’t leak the pictures, Zach.”
“They just happened to be posted on your Facebook page for everyone to share?”
“Ashley hacked my phone after I came and called the medics for you at the party. I fell asleep waiting for Coach to bring y’all back, and I guess she must’ve taken it then and posed with me in all those pictures. You did happen to notice that I was sleeping in all of those, right?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“And no offense, but Ryah and I have a history you wouldn’t even begin to understand.”
“Well, it must not be that long of a history, because you never bothered to tell me about it.” He glares at me. “You’ve told me about all your other girlfriends the second it was official, but with Mariah, nothing. And as a matter of fact, I can’t think of a single time, minus the time you were broken up with Ashley, that you weren’t dating someone. You couldn’t possibly have more than a distorted friendship with Ryah, especially considering that summer girl you used to rave about.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that you’re full of shit, first of all. But second of all, if memory serves me correctly, the only reason you kept going to Camp Briar when we were younger instead of my camp, was because you were basically in love with one of the girls who used to go there. That’s all you fucking talked about and that was year after year. Which brings me back to my main point. If you and Ryah have such a history, then —” He suddenly stops talking and his eyes widen.
Mr. Popular: A Falling For My Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 18