In Pieces

by Gia Riley

  “That doesn’t concern you? Doesn’t make you want to hide like you did before?”

  He’s completely serious when he says, “No, I’m done staying away. I told you I waited long enough.”

  His words hit me hard, make me nervous even, but I’m still trying to process the fact that my brother challenged the entire school, warning all the guys what would happen to them if they so much as asked me to a dance. “I can’t believe Wyatt scared all the guys away. It makes a lot of sense now.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions. Either way, he didn’t make life any easier for me. It sucked never being asked to a dance, or on a date. I figured I was just that repulsive.”

  Rhett rests his arms on my shoulders, placing his finger beneath my chin. I have no choice but to look him right in the eye. “You’re beautiful, Kinsley West. Absolutely beautiful. I’m sorry I waited so long.”

  I want to duck my head and hide, but he doesn’t let me. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “You don’t have to say anything—just tell your sister my name. We’ll take it from there.”

  “And if she doesn’t want me getting into a car with some guy she doesn’t know, then you’re crazy quest to drive me places won’t happen, and I’ll be out a ride. You still think it’s a good idea?”

  “I’m not just any guy, Kinsley.”

  I laugh, because he’s completely serious—and a little bit right. “No, you definitely aren’t just any guy, Rhett. I mean, you’re the Rhett Taylor. She might pass out once I tell her.”

  He taps the tip of my nose with his finger. “See, that’s why I like you. You could give two shits about who I am.”

  “It’s a great name, and you’re well respected in this town for your accomplishments on the field, but there’s more to you than that. I can tell.”

  He sighs in relief. “Yeah? So, you’re going to stick around to find out the rest?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Depends.”

  “On?”

  I pull away from him, even though I loved being so close, practically wrapped up in his arms. I need a little space before I say this next part. “It depends on you.”

  “Then I have no worries. You’re mine.”

  “Are you going to show me the real you, or the one you think I want to see? I want to get to know the guy who has been waiting two years for me. He’s the one I’m interested in.”

  With a look serious enough to pierce through me, yet gentle enough to feel cherished, he says, “I want you to see all of me, Kinsley.”

  Whether it’s littered with underlying sexual innuendos or not, I take his comment in stride. Because like it or not, I want to get to know Rhett, and the only way to do that, is to give him a shot. Even if I’m scared I won’t be what he was looking for. Two years is a lot of expectation to live up to. “Okay.”

  “Okay? You want to see me?”

  “If that means hanging out, then sure.”

  He smiles so wide it’s contagious. “I knew coming here was a good idea.”

  I bump into him with my body, playfully nudging him. “Oh yeah? So you could get a free meal?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’m paying you for the food now that I know you’re not going to run.”

  “You were going to make me pay if you didn’t get what you wanted?”

  He shakes his head, looking slightly exasperated. “It sounds terrible when you say it like that, Kinsley. I was just going to use it as leverage.”

  “That’s not playing fair, Rhett.”

  “I never said I played fair,” he says with a crooked brow.

  I shake my head. He’s exhausting. “I want the real you, not the asshole. Remember that.”

  “You got it, gorgeous.”

  By the time we finish our conversation, two of my tables already left, including the table of freshmen. I pick up my tips from the first two tables, and clear the dirty dishes. Rhett follows behind me, helping me carry a few things into the kitchen without even being asked. “I’m not sharing my tips with you,” I joke.

  “I don’t want your money. Plus, I’m the one who owes you.”

  The third table is where the punks were sitting. They’ve left the exact change on the plastic tray, yet there’s a ten dollar bill on top. I turn to Rhett, handing him the ten dollars. “That was sweet, but I already knew they weren’t going to leave me a tip.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets, not accepting the money. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Rhett, don’t lie. This is your money.” Since he’s making no effort to take it, I reach around his back, and stuff it in his back pocket.

  “Kinsley,” he calls out, as I walk away. “You can’t grope my ass and then leave.”

  Laughing, but ignoring him, I stuff the crumpled bills the boys left into the slots of the cash register. Rhett comes up beside me and asks, “How’d you know?”

  “Their money’s all scrunched up. That bill isn’t. Plus, they wouldn’t have counted out pennies if they were bothering to leave me a tip.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re out money for serving me, since you picked up my bill, and now they stiffed you. You’re lucky to break even tonight at this rate.”

  I don’t tell him Betty loaned me money for my car, and that I have a wad of cash in my pocket. Though he finds it for himself when he takes the ten out of his back pocket and shoves it in the front of my apron. “What’s that?”

  “Money.”

  He removes his hand, peeking inside at the wad of bills. “Do you always carry around that kind of cash?”

  “No.” I have too much pride to tell him I’m broke, and that it’s not mine. I don’t even blame him when he stares at me, trying to figure out what I’m not saying.

  “Is it yours?”

  “No.”

  “Did you take it?”

  And this is where our differences are apparent. He doesn’t trust me, but I don’t trust him either. Maybe we’re even.

  INSTEAD OF EXPLAINING where the money came from, I ran into the kitchen to hide. It probably only makes me look even guiltier than I already do, but how was I supposed to explain to Rhett that I accepted money after turning his away? I looked like a hypocrite—and I knew it.

  Rhett didn’t bother to chase me, either, not that he was allowed in the kitchen. Though after the long speech he made not even a half hour ago, I’m disappointed he didn’t. For a guy who wants a chance so badly, who had to bide his time, waiting for the perfect moment to come for me, he gave up pretty easily.

  Betty drops a stack of dirty plates onto the sink counter next to me, groaning from the strain on her arms. “Did the boy leave?”

  “I don’t know. He thought I ripped you off. He’s probably home by now.”

  With her hands on her hips, she narrows her eyes. “I have half a mind to go set him straight. You are my best employee,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “You go on home. You’re done here for the night.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want me to stay and finish these dishes for you?”

  “Positive.”

  I dry my hands on my apron and lean down to give Betty a hug. I’ll never forget what she did for me tonight. How she’s made my life a little bit easier without even thinking twice about it. I’ve been let down so many times, it makes moments like these that much more meaningful.

  Punching my time card in the machine that dates back to the stone age, I stare at my reflection in the mirror that’s been hanging in the hallway just as long. The florescent lighting gives my normally dark hair an auburn glow. A few strands escaped my ponytail, and I have a noticeable stain on the front of my polo from some ketchup. Who knows what Rhett ever saw in me in the first place—I’m a mess.

  Even I know it’s too late and way too dark to be walking the entire way home all alone, so I do the only thing I can think of—I find Carson’s name in my list of contacts. The pang of disappo
intment that hits me, is surprising. I didn’t realize how much I was looking forward to spending a little extra time with Rhett.

  “What are you doing?”

  My body jerks from the unexpected voice, and my phone falls to the dirty floor of the vestibule, spinning in a circle until it stops next to Rhett’s foot. He leans down to pick it up and hand it back to me, but not before taking a look at the screen. “Why are you calling Carson?”

  “I thought you left.”

  His cocks his head to the side, appearing genuinely confused. “Why would I leave? I’m taking you home.”

  “I figured after you accused me of being a thief, you took off.”

  “Kinsley, I’m sorry. It was a dick thing to say. If I could take it back, I would.”

  “You can’t, but thank you for apologizing.”

  He moves closer to where I’m standing, bending to look me in the eye. “Fair warning, there’s a chance I’m going to do a lot of other stupid shit—even if I don’t intend to.”

  “I can’t wait,” I joke. But this time my smile peers though my earlier anger. He may have jumped to conclusions that weren’t fair, but I can see he’s sorry and that he knows he messed up.

  “Now that we got that out of the way, can I take you home?”

  “Yes, I’m tired. This day’s had more drama than I’m used to.”

  “Come on.” We walk side by side down the stairs and into the almost deserted parking lot. His hand brushes mine, but instead of adding some distance between us, he clasps my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. I stare at our joined hands because even something as simple as holding hands is a first for me.

  “Is this okay?” he questions, obviously worried he overstepped a boundary.

  I nod my head, afraid of what I’ll see when I look at him—so I don’t. “Yes,” I whisper.

  He points to his truck with his free hand. “I’m over there.”

  Rumor has it, the brand new Ford F-150 was a gift from his grandparents. Some kids get graduation gifts, while Rhett gets one for simply starting a new school year.

  “You can ask. Everyone else has.”

  I scrunch my nose up, confused about what I’m supposed to be asking. “About?”

  “The truck. It’s been the topic of conversation at practice the entire week.”

  “It’s really nice.”

  “I know, but I didn’t ask for it,” he insists. I’m not sure why it’s so important for me to know that, but clearly he wants to discuss it before we get inside.

  “Rhett, it doesn’t matter to me what you drive. Things don’t matter to me—probably because I don’t have many. So, I don’t care if your truck came from Peyton Manning or your family. It’s yours and it’s awesome. That’s all that matters.”

  A smile breaks out over his previously worried face. “You know who Peyton Manning is?”

  I chuckle, “That’s all you heard me say?”

  “No, I heard every word you said, but it’s hot when you start tossing quarterbacks into the conversation.”

  “Then you’ll be happy to know, I like sports. I know who Peyton is—you’d have to live in oblivion not to. He’s a fourteen time pro-bowler. That’s huge.”

  Rhett’s eyes widen when I break out the statistics. He forgets I have an older brother who is also obsessed with football. With only one TV in the apartment, I had no choice but to watch a lot of football games. “Shit, Kinsley. I’m think I’m in love. I mean, I already knew I liked you, but damn. You just rocked my world.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “What’s crazy about that?”

  “All of it.” I take the key fob out of his hands to unlock the doors. When I reach for the handle, he finally snaps out of the daze I put him in.

  “I got it. Let me help you get in, shorty.”

  Before I can climb in without his help, his hands are around my waist, lifting me effortlessly into the passenger seat. “I could have handled it.”

  “You could have.”

  “But?”

  “But, I’m not about to pass up a reason to touch you,” he says, as he shuts my door, and walks around the front of the truck with a satisfied smirk on his face.

  It’s adorable—he’s adorable. No, who am I kidding? He’s hot, and for reasons I’ll never understand, he’s interested in me.

  “You can put whatever you want on the radio.”

  “I’m okay with this. I like country music.” Plus, I have no idea how to work all the buttons on the radio. I drive an older car that doesn’t have satellite radio or a built in navigation system.

  “Country music and sports. You’re two for two.”

  “Does that mean I’m a keeper?”

  “Definitely,” he says, in complete seriousness—all the playfulness from before now gone from his voice.

  I pull my hair out of the ponytail I wear it in for work, and Rhett glances at me out of the corner of his eye, as I’m massaging my scalp.

  “Headache?”

  “A little. I think I’m mostly tired. I worked a double last night.”

  “I give you credit. I worked over the summer, before football started. I don’t know how you go to school all day and then work all night.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “And that’s why driving this truck sucks.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My parents want me to have it, and my grandparents have this insane desire to spoil me.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I sound so ungrateful, but I don’t need this thing. I’d rather someone have it that needs it, but they don’t see it that way. They want me to have everything, which I appreciate, but it makes it harder to blend in when they’re waving their money around.”

  “I get what you’re saying, but they’re your family.”

  “I’m sorry. Here I am pissed off at my family.”

  I cut him off before he can say anything else. “And I don’t have one.”

  He nods his head. “Yeah, dick move number two. I told you there’d be many.”

  “It’s fine, really. I’ve had a lot of time to try to make sense of it. I hate to tell you though, you couldn’t blend in if you tried. Three quarters of this town comes out to see you play every Friday night. You’re even on the news.”

  “That I can’t help.”

  “Just like I can’t help my situation, either. We are who we are whether we like it or not.”

  “You’re saying I’m supposed to look the part? Be who everyone else expects me to be, or thinks I already am?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. Can I ask why it even matters to you? Any other guy on the team would kill to be in your position—to have all that attention. All those girls begging to be his.”

  “First off, only one girl matters to me.” He glances at me. “Secondly, it matters because I want a real shot with you, and I don’t want rumors or expectations to screw up your opinion of me before you have a chance to get to know me. I guess I want you to see me, and not a position on the football field like everyone else.”

  He’s right, I’ve had an opinion of him for years. Now that I think about it, I could be totally wrong about the guy I always assumed he was. I don’t think I am though. I see beyond the bullshit.

  “Rhett, people judge me every single day of my life because of decisions my father made. I know the rumors floating around, I’ve heard them all. Yet here you are, talking to me despite that. If anyone gets it, I do.”

  I remember the first day back to school after dad left. Word around town traveled quickly, and I lashed out at Kate because I was equally ashamed and angry. All that did was secure me a trip to a counselor before she lost me entirely. At the time, I hated her for it, especially when everyone in school called me crazy for seeing a shrink, but looking back on it, it was a blessing in disguise. Had my sister not read the warning signs as well as she did, I could very well be a high school dropout doing god knows what with god knows who.

  “I don’t care what other pe
ople think about us, Kinsley. I only care what you think of me—and how you make me feel.”

  My voice wavers the slightest bit when I ask, “How do I make you feel?”

  “Alive,” he says, simply.

  “Well that’s better than dead.”

  His shoulders shake and he reaches over to squeeze my leg just above the knee. “I like when you’re a smartass, too. What I mean is, you don’t have expectations. You don’t assume anything—it’s refreshing.”

  “Well, I do have one expectation.”

  He smiles, “I knew it was too good to be true. Lay it on me.”

  “I can’t yet.”

  “When can you?” he asks, curiously.

  “Soon—maybe.”

  “Adding a little mystery to the mix, I like it. I actually have one for you, too.”

  I fidget in my seat, not sure if I’m ready to hear what Rhett expects of me or from me. This is another area where we’re worlds apart.

  “Don’t look so nervous.”

  “I am,” I whisper.

  “Kinsley, it’s not like that. Look at me.”

  I turn my head, expecting to be laughed at, but he’s not even smiling. “What?”

  “For starters, that’s not what we’re about. I’m not looking for a random hook up. Secondly, I was trying to ask you to Fall Fest.”

  “The music festival? That’s your expectation?”

  “The one and only.”

  The eighteen-year-old inside of me wants to jump up and down, but I’ve had to grow up a lot faster than most kids my age. Automatically, my mind focuses on the cost. With having to pay Betty back, I don’t know when I’ll be able to save enough money to go to Fall Fest. I do know it won’t be in time for this year’s festival. That’s for sure.

  At the next red light, Rhett looks puzzled when I don’t immediately respond one way or the other. “You said you like country music, right?”

  “I do, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go.”

  “Why not?”

  I feel like such a loser. Moments like these make the anger I’ve tried so hard to get rid of bubble to the surface. I shouldn’t have to worry about money or making it on my own. I should be living it up this last year of high school. “I just can’t. I’m sorry, Rhett.”