“No, Summer, he doesn’t. Things just got really dramatic after that article was published. He’s just confused because there is so much crap between us…”
Summer puts her hand on my shoulder and tells me, “Stop. It’s okay, Tatum. I know neither of you want to hurt me. I know you didn’t plan this. Ever since the two of you reconnected I’ve felt like there was something between you that was left unfinished. After hearing about how Nash kept you apart I know that destiny was interrupted.
“It kills me to know that I’m not the girl for Brandon, but he’s the best person I’ve ever known and I honestly want him to be happy. I mean, I don’t want you guys flaunting your happiness in my face… at least not for a while. But I don’t want to be another person coming between the two of you.
“I just wanted to let you know that if you have feelings for him, if you think there might be something between you, if you might love him like he loves you, I want you two to have the chance to find out if it’s real.”
Jesus, Presley was right. She is the most selfless, generous person that has ever existed. Her niceness is almost disturbing. It’s hard to accept. “Summer… No. I mean, that’s not a priority for me right now – moving on to another relationship. I can’t even think about that right now and honestly, I think it’s insane that you are suggesting I get involved with someone you love.”
“I do love him, Tatum. More than anything. But I’ve come to realize over the last few weeks that the world is huge and this town is small. Maybe you found your partner right next door when you were five but that’s not my destiny. There is someone out there that is meant for me, I just haven’t met him yet. And I’m okay with that. I’m excited about that. I can’t wait to meet him and when I do I’ll tell him about this day and about how I was able to let the boy I loved go because I knew he was waiting for me in my future.”
All I can do is stare at her, dumbfounded.
She leans in and gives me a hug. I feel obligated to hug her back even though it feels completely wrong, like the two of us are celebrating my future with Brandon. “I’m truly sorry about what Nash did to you all those years ago. You deserved your shot at happiness. You deserve to see what could have happened.”
She stands quickly then and walks away without turning around. I know she’s hiding her tears from me because she wants me to believe she’s okay about the fact that Brandon loves me.
Brandon loves me… how the hell could Brandon ever love me more than her? She’s literally perfect.
After she’s out of sight I bury my head in my arms and think about the turn of events this day has taken. For the first time I really, like really, picture myself with Brandon. I try not to think about it because of Summer, but I can’t keep the thoughts out of my head.
I see us together. I picture our future, as in the rest of the year, and I let my hidden face smile.
“Hey, are you sleeping?” a deep, amused voice asks me.
“Just trying to disappear,” I say, peeking out to look up at Brandon’s eyes that are covered in the shadows of his long, thick, black lashes. I look at him and let myself appreciate how beautiful he is. The hair cut Tally gave him looks even better in his effortless care – falling loosely over one side of his forehead. The mole above his lip is sexy. The creases that form on either side of his mouth when he smiles are charming. His perfectly formed, red cupids bow is tempting. The strong lines of his chin, jaw and cheekbones are handsome as hell.
Now that Nash has proven what an absolute jerk he is and Summer has promised to find the real love of her life one day, I can no longer convince myself that there was ever a man in this world that I’m more attracted to than Brandon. Yet, I know it’s not right to act on that right now.
He’s sitting across from me now. He leans forward and rests his head on his palm, I assume to block the view of his fingers gently moving over mine, from the general public. “I don’t think that’s possible… for you to disappear.”
I sit up and try to abstain from smiling, but his presence drags it out of me. That is until Reggie, followed by August, Colby and the rest of the football team – minus Nash – make their way to our table like it’s their own. I pull my hand away from Brandon’s and he smiles at me with amusement before turning to his friends and carrying on with his lunch time routine like the earth hasn’t completely shifted on its axis.
I breeze through my next few hours, catching glimpses of Brandon who is always looking at me with a knowing smile. When I enter last period – The Observer – I’m not thinking about anything but the fact that it’s last period and once I leave this building I can finally let myself absorb my feelings for Brandon. But I know, with one look at Mr. Lawrence, that I’m not gonna get away that easily.
“Tatum, come join us,” he says, sternly. I walk to the small table where he and Angel are sitting, both men looking tense. “Could you please explain to us what took place on Saturday night at the football dinner?”
Oh shit. The thought that what I did might cause a problem for The Observer never crossed my mind. “I played the interview I had with Brandon.”
“Through the microphone for everyone in that room to hear?” Wow. He’s really upset.
“Yes.”
“And you also apologized for taking his words out of context and using the paper to slander his reputation as a form of personal payback?”
He’s looking at me so intensely, my hands start to shake. “Yes.”
He slaps both hands down on the table and leans into me. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I had to do something, Mr. Lawrence. You don’t understand what that article did to his life. I had to make it right.”
“Which is why I asked you to take a second to think about if it was the article you wanted to run. I believe you told me you didn’t need a moment to think about it. You were sure.”
“I was sure.”
“You were emotional. And decisions like that can’t be based on emotion. You know that. You cannot write, much less publish, a piece that you can’t stand behind one hundred percent. You’ve done a good job here, Tatum. You are a talented writer, but I have no choice… you’re off the staff.”
“What?” Angel and I ask at the same time.
“The entire reputation of the paper and all of its staff members has been compromised. I can’t keep you on.”
He stand and Angel does too. “I think Tatum is the only one who can restore our reputation. She’s the only one who can make this right. No one’s gonna pay attention to anything anyone but she publishes in that paper.”
“Pay attention? Maybe. But believe what she writes? Highly doubtful.”
“She’s a convincing writer Mr. Lawrence – you know that. I know that piece was bad for the paper but let’s face it – if we want a chance to get a new message across, she’s the one that has to deliver it. People don’t care what we have to say about the matter. They want to… they need to… hear it from her.”
He looks at Angel for a few moments before turning his, still livid, eyes on me. “Can you make this right?”
I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m screwed if he kicks me off the paper. I would have to go back to English lit and… gym. “Yes, Mr. Lawrence, I can.”
“I’ll give you one last shot, Tatum. But I’m warning you, it’s going to have to be brilliant.”
He turns and walks away and Angel and I both let out huge breaths as he falls back into his seat by me. “How the hell am I gonna pull this off?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him so pissed. You are having quite the day, drama queen. All I know is I’m glad I’m not you.”
I roll my eyes at him before standing. I move to one of the computer cubicles, insert my memory key and open up a new Word document. Then I stare at it. I don’t know what Mr. Lawrence wants from me. An apology? Another exposé? A glowing piece on how great Carver and the Cougars are? Something Brilliant. That’s all I know.
When the tone sound
s signaling the end of last period I still have nothing. I delete my last lame idea.
“You coming?” Angel asks, the last student left in the computer lab.
“No. I think I better stay here until I figure something out.”
“You want me to stay and help you?”
“There’s nothing you can do. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’ll come up with something,” he tells me before leaving the room.
I resume staring at the screen until the halls become silent and then I give it another go.
I have the words I’m sorry typed out. I’m paused, waiting for inspiration, when I hear the door to the computer lab open. I look over my shoulder and see Brandon standing there. He closes the door and then walks to me, dropping his backpack on the floor and pulling out the chair next to me. He leans into me, his arms resting on his legs. He’s so close I can see the golden flecks in his eyes and smell his intoxicating cologne.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”
“We all got pulled out of last period for a meeting with Coach. You know, to hash out our feelings or whatever.”
“How’d that go?”
“Nash was back to his old laidback self. The fight we had this morning is all water under the bridge. The drama over the article is forgotten. We’ve never been more unified as a team.”
I roll my eyes and tell him, “Please.”
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging his shoulder, “it’s all still a mess but everyone is playing nice. Coach gave us the afternoon off clear our heads and study the new playbook.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yeah, lucky me. Now I have time to be with you. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since this morning.”
“We have a lot of crap to talk about, huh?”
“I don’t know. I really just wanted to hang out with you. What do you say? You want to get out of here and go have some fun? Forget about everything for a little while?”
“That sounds so good. Unfortunately, my ass is on the line with Mr. Lawrence and I have to write a brilliant article to atone for the speech I made at the football dinner if I want to keep my position on the paper.”
Brandon glances at the two words on the computer screen and laughs. “Looks like you’re having writers block. Maybe we can find something that will inspire you,” he tells me with a mischievous smile.
I smile back at him and tell him, “Fuck it,” while pulling my memory key out of the computer and shoving it in my bag. “Let’s go.”
We get in Brandon’s car, but he doesn’t drive far – only to the field house. “What are we doing?” I ask him.
“What does it look like we’re doing? Let’s go play some ball.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he says, laughing. “Come on.”
He grabs his equipment bag and I can see his hand reaching out for mine before he stops himself.
It hits me then how weird this all is. This morning I was pretty sure he had reconciled with Summer and forgotten about me. But over the course of the day, Nash basically cut ties with both of us and told us to go live our fairytale, Brandon told Summer how he feels about me and Summer gave me the go ahead to move forward with Brandon if that’s what I want to do. It feels like everyone has decided that we are going to be together, and because of that it feels like we are together. But we’re not. We haven’t even talked about it.
“I’ve never been on the field before,” I tell him as we make our way through the field house and onto the turf.
“Really?” he asks, throwing his bag down on the bench then pulling out his ball. “I’m glad I get to be the first to bring you down here.”
“It’s quite the occasion, huh?”
“Epic,” he tells me through his laughter as we walk out to the fifty yard line. “You remember how to catch a ball?”
“I haven’t done it for a while but it’s like riding a bike, right?”
“I don’t know, let’s find out,” he says before lobbing the ball at me. I catch it easily and throw it back to him, the ball spiraling perfectly. “Yep, just like a bike.”
We throw the ball back and forth a few times and I become comfortable with the motion again. “So what’s it like being out here when the lights are on and the stands are full of cheering fans?”
“It’s hard to believe this is the same field we play on during our home games. It seems so much bigger on Friday nights.”
“So you like it?”
“Yeah. I love it. It’s a total adrenaline rush.”
“It seems stressful, watching from the stands.”
“Some nights, like last Friday, it is. I can always feel the pressure and there’s always a huge sense of relief when it’s all over. Or disappointment, depending how the game went. Before I left my dad’s house for the first time it was more stressful because I knew I was gonna have to re-watch every wrong move I made with Roger on Sunday.” He pauses and I feel my body filing with happiness because he’s no longer in that situation. “I wonder where I would be if I hadn’t gone to Nash’s house the first time I left and talked to you. I never even considered not going home until you suggested it and made it seem like it was no big deal. Like it was totally doable. You changed me that night.”
“That’s when things started to fall apart.”
“No, not at all. It was the first time I let someone in and admitted to myself that my life was far from okay. It was the first time I considered that change was possible.”
“Things have definitely changed since that night.”
“Everything has changed. Everything started changing the minute I looked into your eyes and talked to you for the first time that morning at church. You lit something inside of me that morning. Something I hadn’t felt for so long I had completely forgotten about it. I think just about every part of me started changing that morning.”
“Are they good changes are bad ones?” I ask, tentatively.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good, Tatum. It’s all good.”
“Everything kind of looks like a mess if you ask me.”
“Exactly. Messes didn’t exist in my life until you came back into it. Everything was set on a straight path- orderly and predictable.”
“Sounds nice,” I tell him. Stability’s one thing I’ve never really had and I’m beginning to learn, from the few stable days I had when I thought I had, for once, figured out my life, that it’s something I crave.
“It wasn’t. Everything was under control, but I wasn’t in control of anything. I feel like, for the first time in a long time, I’m free to make my own decision. Do what I want. Choose what I want. For once I’m not worried about disappointing this town… or Coach… or my teammates… or my dad… or Summer.”
“Why is that? Because you pretty much lost them all at one point or another over these past few weeks?”
“Maybe. I mean, it made me realize that I’ll be okay no matter what. That if I really want to be happy I need to stop worrying about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what I want. And maybe what I want isn’t to play football or even go to college. Maybe I don’t want to lead and ordinary, predictable life. Maybe that’s not what I want. I have options now. It’s freeing. It makes me happy.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one, Tatum. That’s the whole point.”
“You’re starting to sound like this loser I used to date,” I tell him, throwing the ball harder than I mean to.
He laughs then tells me, “You were right that day in church when you told me I have nothing in common with Nash outside of football. I’m still the same guy I’ve always been. In fact, I feel more like myself than I have since that day everything fell apart between us.”
“Yeah. I get that. I’m starting to feel like myself again too.”
He smiles hugely then tells me to, “Go long.”
I
take off down the field, feeling free and light. I keep my eye on Brandon until he releases the ball. I watch it fly through the clear blue sky and I push my legs to get to its ending point, my competitiveness coming back to me full force. I need to catch that ball. I have to throw myself into the air to get to it but when I feel the hard leather land in my palms, a huge sense of accomplishment and pride fills me. Just like it used to when Brandon would push me to catch his long balls. I hit the ground hard but it doesn’t hurt. I lay on my back and keep a firm hold on the ball.
Brandon appears above my face before dropping down on top of me, not actually landing on me. “Are you okay?” The concern on his face is real.
The laughter that comes out of me is more genuine than it’s been in a long time. “Yeah. I’m perfect.”
He smiles at me and tells me, “You always were the best receiver I knew,” before lowering his forehead down to mine. I instantly feel the heat of his body flowing into mine. He drops his warm, wet lips onto mine and I take them eagerly.
We have a full blown make out session right there in the end zone and I’m amazed, just like I was the first time he kissed me, how much desire he creates inside of me. How perfectly his mouth moves with mine like we were meant to do this together. But now, without all the anger and guilt and hate between us, I’m also amazed by how much I love this boy.
34
“I don’t want to put you in a bad position, but I don’t think I’m welcome back on the Carter’s couch tonight,” I tell Tatum as we head into her room. I need, and want, to stay at her place but I’m fully aware that it might be pushing whatever is happening between us into fast motion. Especially after what just happened between us on that field. My desire for her is out of control and I crave her like a drug.
A God in Carver (Carver High #1) Page 25