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Changing Forever

Page 5

by Lisa De Jong


  She clears her throat. “Speech topics. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Honestly, the only thing I know is football. The only thing that interests me is football,” I say, running my fingers through my hair.

  She tilts her head in my direction, narrowing her eyes. “Seriously, Drake?”

  “Seriously. I don’t have time to learn anything else.”

  “Yeah. What did you do last night?”

  “Went to the post-game party.”

  She nods, sucking the last of her drink through her straw. “We could do it on teenage drinking.”

  She has got to be fucking with me. That’s one of the most overdone subjects ever … I don’t want to take part in beating something that is already dead. “First of all, I’m twenty. Second, I’d rather give a speech than preach,” I say as I set my empty cup on the ground and wrap my arms around my folded knees.

  “What if we do nature versus nurture? I’ve read about it before, and it’s really interesting.”

  “How about cars?”

  Her lips press into a thin, tight line. If looks could kill, I’d be flat on the floor without a heartbeat right now. “Really?”

  “No, I was just playing, but the look on your face was totally worth it.” I pause long enough to watch her roll her eyes. “Tell me a little bit more about this nature versus nurture. Why do you want to do it?”

  She glances around uneasily, wetting her pink lips. “Because I’m proof that nature is just as strong as nurture.”

  I’m so fucking lost. “What?”

  She surveys the grassy area behind us before continuing. “I grew up with my dad, but I’m a lot like my mom. Most of my characteristics and behaviors mirror hers.”

  I nod, waiting for her to go on. There’s sadness in her eyes. One I don’t often see in others. It makes me want to know more.

  “She was a dreamer. I’m a dreamer. She was a fighter, and I always have my boxing gloves on.” A faint smile highlights her face. I think I’ve already seen her with her gloves on, and she knows how to use them.

  “Did you see your mom at all growing up?”

  She nods, staring down at her hands. “Until I was four, and then one other time after that.”

  This little glimpse into who she is has me seeing a whole new side of her. She’s not perfect. She hasn’t lived a perfect life. She’s got her shit, just like I have mine.

  I’d like to argue that we both show more nurture than nature. Stubborn. Difficult. It’s a product of what our parents did to us, not what they gave us.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?” she says, her eyes glossed over.

  I nod, combing my fingers through my hair again. Things are getting a little too personal; it’s time to get back to what we came here to do. “Are we going to split this up, or how do you want to do this?”

  “Am I making all the decisions again?”

  “Every once in a while I give up control,” I tease.

  “Fine, how about if I do the nature side, and you can do nurture? I mean, I feel strongly about nature so it should be easy.”

  “It just so happens that I think it’s the other way around. We’ll see who can convince the class.” I wink, adding some competitive fire to our conversation.

  “Bets on.”

  “So, since we’re not doing this on football, can I give you a few lessons? A trade-off of sorts.”

  “What makes you think I don’t already know all about it?”

  I laugh. “For one, you didn’t know who I was.”

  Rolling her eyes, she says, “It’s just college football. It’s not the damn pros.”

  Yep, she’s pretty darn clueless. “In this part of the United States, it’s more important than the pros.”

  “Well, I think that concludes lesson number one. Can we move onto some real work now?” she asks, chipping away at her purple nail polish.

  I lean in, little by little, until I feel her reacting to me. It would be so easy to brush my lips against hers, to feel her reaction. Something tells me she wouldn’t push back. “Next time, we might work on tackling since I know you’ve already mastered catching and throwing.”

  She scoffs, moving in the opposite direction from me. “In your dreams, Chambers.”

  We spend the next hour sparring back and forth, about our project, and life in general. When it’s all said and done, I don’t regret going. In fact, I kind of wish we could have stayed there longer. She’s easy to talk to, and truth be told, I do like to talk about things that aren’t related to football.

  THIS WEEK SEEMED TO DRAG ON forever between grueling study sessions and classes. For once, I’m happy it’s Friday because even I need a break every now and then.

  College has definitely been an adjustment for me.

  There’s more homework and more complex information to memorize before tests. On a positive note, Drake’s been doing his share of the research since we got together last weekend, which is taking some of the pressure off me. At this point, I’m still not sure what the end product will sound like, but at least I know I don’t have to do the whole project on my own.

  But I’m not thinking about all that tonight. I’m going to step outside my comfort zone and leave academics behind. There was no way Kate was going to take no for an answer when she asked me to go out tonight … that’s all I’ve done since we got there. And besides that, I feel like I have my feet under me. I know it’s bound to get tougher as this year goes on, and I’m going to enjoy my little bit of free time while I have it.

  “Are you about ready to go?” Kate asks, combing through her hair for the hundredth time.

  “I can’t decide what to wear. Where did you say we’re going again?” This whole thing is making me nervous for some reason, and even though she told me twice already, I keep forgetting.

  “It’s a billiards bar.”

  I groan. Again. This does not sound like my idea of a good time. “What do people wear to a billiards bar?”

  She taps her index finger on her chin, puckering her lips. “I’ve never been to one, honestly, but I assume jeans. How about jeans and a cute tank?”

  When I turn my attention back to my closet, the first thing I spot is my brown western boots. I’ve never considered myself a fashionable person, but I try to stay somewhat current. “What about cutoff shorts with boots? That’s not too slutty, is it?”

  The laughter that erupts almost has her rolling on the floor. It’s one of the things I like most about us … we’ve been able to find little things to laugh about. When she can catch her breath, she says, “No, that sounds cute. Not slutty, or trampy, or hookerish … just cute.”

  “Okay, but what shirt should I wear with it?”

  “Hmm,” she says, stepping next to me. “What about this?” She pulls out a black tank with beading at the top, but I shake my head. The nights have gotten cooler, and that may be a little too much skin for me.

  It doesn’t faze her as she dives right back in, picking out a white short-sleeve t-shirt. I recognize it; it’s cut deep in the front and hugs my curves perfectly.

  “That I can do,” I say, grabbing the shirt from her. I quickly dress, even letting Kate twist her curling iron in my hair a couple times. When she’s done, and I’ve had a chance to throw some make-up on, I stand back and survey my reflection in the mirror. My eyes widen as I turn from side to side. I look really good … maybe college will end up being more than just a stepping stone for me.

  “Ready?” Kate asks, picking up her small black clutch from her bed.

  “Yeah.” I grab a yellow sweater out of my closet for later and follow her out the door. “Who did you say was going to be there?”

  She shrugs. “Beau and some of his friends. My friend Rachel is going to try to make it so you can finally meet her. It’s no big deal.”

  “I’ve never played pool before so I might just watch.”

  “Emery, you’re playing. I’ve on
ly played once, so we should be pretty even. In fact, you’ll probably be better than me because you’re good at everything,” she says, unlocking her car doors.

  “Whatever.”

  “Just relax. We’re going to have fun tonight … I promise.”

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I never even went to these types of places back home because I’d told myself over and over that it wasn’t my thing. I convinced myself that I couldn’t have good grades and a good time. I have to admit, though, it feels like the weight of the future has been taken off my shoulders, because right now, I’m only thinking about tonight.

  My hands are clammy as we pull into a gravel parking lot. The shy side of me is begging to have Kate drive me back home, while the more adventurous side that I keep locked up tight can’t wait to get out of this car.

  “Ready?” Kate asks.

  I take a deep breath and undo my seatbelt. I need to stop thinking so much and just do this. “Let’s go shoot some pool.”

  Without waiting for her reply, I step outside, stretching my arms above my head. Most of the spots in the parking lot are full, which means this place is probably packed.

  “Is this place always so busy?”

  Kate comes up beside me, hitting the button to lock her car. “I’m not sure. Beau said it’s two dollar draw night, whatever that means.”

  I nod and begin walking to the entrance with Kate beside me. The gravel crunches under my boots, a melodic interruption of the voices in my head begging for me to get back in that car, get as far away as possible.

  The building isn’t much on the outside. It looks like a red rectangle with a black door. The roof barely peaks, and the Jake’s Billiards sign above looks as if it hasn’t been painted in several years. It’s definitely not the type of place that draws you in when you drive by.

  As we step inside, the smell of beer and popcorn fill my nose. I immediately notice the old, frayed, hunter green carpet, and the standard black leather bar chairs that surround the wooden tables. Besides a few lit up beer signs, the walls are pretty bare. The backroom is filled with pool tables and about one hundred people, mostly guys.

  “Are the guys here yet?” I ask, gripping Kate’s forearm so I don’t lose her.

  I watch as she scans the room. When a smile forms on her face, I follow the path of her eyes and see Beau standing in the back corner with a pool stick in his hand.

  I start walking in that direction, anxious to get out of the crowded doorway, but Kate pulls me back. “Emery, I need to tell you something before we go over there.”

  “Yeah?”

  She shifts uncomfortably, rubbing her fingers together. “Well, it might just be me, you, Beau, and one other guy playing tonight.”

  “Umm, what do you mean?” I ask, rubbing the base of my neck.

  She grimaces, taking a small step back. “Well, it’s kind of a blind date. Like extra blind because I didn’t even tell you about it.”

  I glance over her shoulder to get a glimpse of who it is. This is so sudden … I don’t even know what I should be feeling right now.

  “I’ll understand if you’re mad, but I hope you’ll stay. It’s just that I don’t see you having a lot of fun, and I thought this would be fun. Beau says he’s a nice guy.” She takes another step back; it’s probably a good idea at this point.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Would you have come?”

  I don’t answer. We both know what it would be anyway.

  “Give it one hour. If you’re not having fun, I’ll take you home,” she begs, clasping her hands in front of her.

  Surveying the bar, I realize most of the people in here are laughing and having a good time. Hopefully, I can handle this for sixty minutes. “Fine, what’s his name.”

  She jumps up like she just won the lotto. “Eric,” she squeals.

  I shake my head as we make our way to the guys. I feel a good hour of awkwardness coming my way. The guy standing by Beau is a little shorter than him with dark hair that’s just long enough to show off a little wave. And his eyelashes … they’re amazingly dark and long.

  “How are you ladies this evening?” Beau asks as we approach. He’s greeting both of us, but his attention is focused on Kate.

  “Good,” I answer, clasping my hands behind my back.

  Beau points to the guy I assume is Eric. “Oh, Emery, this is Eric. Eric, this is Emery.”

  I wave shyly, not exactly sure what to do on a blind, blind date. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.”

  A long, awkward silence follows. I’d do anything to get some magic disappearing potion right now and never come back. “Umm, Beau, do you want to come with me to get some popcorn?” Kate asks.

  Shit. She’s already plotting to get me alone with this guy. I didn’t sign up for this.

  “Yeah, do you guys want anything to drink?” Beau asks, resting his hand at the back of Kate’s neck.

  I narrow my eyes at Kate, but also manage a tight smile. “I’ll take a Coke or Pepsi … whatever they have.”

  “Me, too,” Eric answers, tucking his hands in his pockets.

  As I watch Beau and Kate walk away, I fold my arms over my chest. I kind of hate both of them right now. I’d rather give a speech to the entire Senate or sing on national television than go on a blind date.

  “Have you been here before?” Eric asks, breaking the quiet spell.

  “No,” I answer, watching the pool game at the table next to ours.

  “Me either.”

  Standing on my tippy toes, I try to see over the crowd. Beau and Kate need to hurry up because I can’t take this much longer. “So, how do you know Beau?”

  “He’s in a couple of my engineering classes.”

  “That’s cool.”

  He shrugs. “It’s all right.”

  This is ranking right up there with the best conversation ever. “So—”

  “I never thought I’d see you here.” I recognize that voice by now. Looking over my shoulder, I see a familiar smirk.

  “And I never thought I’d come here,” I say as I turn to him. He looks good tonight in faded blue jeans that hug his thighs and a navy t-shirt that does the same to his chest and biceps.

  His eyes travel down my legs, his smile widening as he reaches my feet. “Nice boots.”

  I cross my feet at the ankles, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my choice in outfits. “I like them.”

  “I never said I didn’t.”

  Eric clears his throat, reminding me he’s still here. It feels like I’m buried in double hell. “Umm, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Eric.”

  Eric reaches his hand out, but Drake looks back and forth between us before accepting. “Drake.”

  Eric nods. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

  Silence takes over again as all three of us stand with our arms crossed over our chests. I glance back every few seconds for a glimpse of Beau and Kate, but I find nothing.

  I am so going to kill her for this one.

  Drake finally speaks up, ending the silent stand-off. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Emery, but I’ll let you get back to your boyfriend.”

  “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” I reply quickly.

  Two guys. Two sets of eyes … on me. I wish a hole would open up in the floor and suck me down into it.

  “So, you won’t mind if I steal her away for a minute?” Drake asks. “I’m playing pool back here, and we’re short a player. Our fourth guy should be here shortly.”

  Eric rubs his hand along the back of his neck, peering at me through the corner of his eye. “Yeah, sure. I’m going to go up to the bar and see what’s taking so long.”

  I feel kind of shitty as I watch him walk away … but I also feel relief. Our date, or whatever Kate intended it to be, was going nowhere.

  “You looked a little uncomfortable,” Drake says, just loud enough that only I can hear it.

  I nod. “Blind date.”

 
He laughs, cupping my elbow in his hand to guide me to his table. “I didn’t peg you as the type that would agree to that.”

  “I’m not. They tricked me.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, anytime you need me to save you, I’ll be your Superman.”

  Shaking myself free from his grasp, I say, “Trust me. I won’t be doing this again.”

  “Yeah, I suppose if things get serious with Eric there, you won’t need to.”

  “Shut up and teach me how to play.”

  “Wow, Chambers, you got your hands full there.” I recognize the guy as the one who was playing football with Drake the first day I ran into him.

  Drake’s eyes stay on me as he responds. “No, it looks like you have yours full, Gavin, because she’s on my team.”

  Before I know it, I have a pool stick in my hand, and the front of Drake’s chest is pressed against my back as he tries to show me how to hit the white ball. The warmth of his body makes mine tingle in a way I’m not used to, and a part of me wants him to stay there. I hate even admitting it.

  “See how we’re going to do this? We’re going to place the tip between your left fingers and hold the end of the stick with your right.” He stands behind me, his hands right behind mine. “We’re going to pull it back, and then hit the ball. Not too hard. Not too soft.”

  We do just that, him guiding me the whole way through. The first shot he helps me with, I make with no problem, but as soon as he leaves me on my own, I miss the next couple shots.

  “You can do it,” he says. “Just take your time, and do exactly what I showed you.” Not long after, I get the hang of it, knocking a few balls into the pockets. I’m even able to hit one in by holding the stick behind my back; I’d seen Gavin do it and was determined to show him up because he’s been teasing me incessantly tonight.

  “You play before?” Gavin asks after Drake and I win our second game in a row.

  “This is my first time.”

  “Wow,” he mouths, setting up the balls again. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”

  “Leave her alone, man!”

  “All right, I get it,” he says, laughing.

  “Oh, no way—no, no, no, we aren’t together,” I stutter in an attempt to clear up the confusion. “There’s absolutely nothing going on between us.”

 

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