by Nicole Dykes
The last seven days I’ve gone to class, weight training, and practice, but the anger at Hannah has grown. If nothing else, I want some fucking answers from her.
So when this pretty girl, Christine?—I don’t know, and my head hurts too bad to remember—suffice it to say this girl asked me to go to a party last night, and I accepted. Hunter was a pussy and wouldn’t go with me, even though they rarely do curfew checks in the off-season. It didn’t stop me going by myself, and this girl found me right away.
She made it way too easy for me to fuck out some frustration. I remember the beer pong and body shots being a good time. When I didn’t get a text from Hunter after curfew had come and gone, I decided after too much to drink to bring my “date” back to my dorm. Getting caught with her in here could be so bad--like get me kicked off the team bad—and I don’t want that. Right?
I sit up slowly and groan. “Yeah I’m awake, and you need to get going.”
She leans up and kisses my bare shoulder. “Why? We could spend all day in bed.”
That idea doesn’t tempt me at all. Like I said, I don’t usually do the one-night stand thing, but really I’m not interested in being with this chick more than just last night. Besides, she asked me out. If they make the brews, screws, and cruise scenario easy, who am I not to take them up on it? So here we go, I’m probably going to get slapped.
“Not. Can’t have anyone of the opposite sex in my dorm. It can get me kicked off of the team. So you have to go.”
She pouts, “You didn’t care about all that last night.”
“That’s because I was drunk and horny. Things change in the light of day, and now I see I made some bad decisions.” I stand up and grab a pair of sweats and slip them on, “I had fun, but it’s time to for you to leave now.”
She huffs and starts picking up her clothes. When she’s finally dressed, she turns back to me, “So you don’t want to see me again, right?”
I don’t know if my answer is going to piss her off or not, but I’m going to be honest anyway, “Affirmative. Honestly, I can’t even remember your name.”
She nods and then shrugs, “Well, last night was fun. At least, I got to fuck the superstar. See ya around campus.”
Well damn, that was easy. Maybe I should have gotten her number. Nah, on second thought, I don’t need the hassle of one of my short-lived relationships right now.
I get dressed deciding, I need a run around campus with Hunter. We run down to Aggieville and grab breakfast before walking back to our dorm. Halfway there, Hunter says, “So, I got permission to be gone all weekend in six weeks to go down to see Miranda.”
I roll my eyes, Miranda is Hunter’s girlfriend since—get this—his sophomore year of high school. He’s only been with this one girl and remains faithful while she attends the University of Oklahoma. Hunter is from Oklahoma originally, but got recruited by K-State. During football season, they hardly got to see each other, and because of bowl season his trip home during Christmas was short. There’s been no shortage of girls throwing themselves at him for bragging rights of sleeping with a football player. But he stays devoted to her. I simply don’t get it.
“Oh, a whole weekend.”
“It’s all we’ve got right now, and we’re fixing to hit the practice field hard for spring football. I’m excited about it.”
I can’t help but smile. This goofy guy has really grown on me, and I can tell he’s excited about it. I don’t need to piss all over his good mood just because I’m getting mind-fucked right now by my blast from the past. “You’re right about that. That’s awesome man. I’m sure she’s excited too.”
“She doesn’t know. It’s going to be a total surprise, but it’s for her birthday. I’m going to play it like I wish I could be there, but our practice schedule won’t allow it, and then boom, I’m gonna show up at her dorm.”
I side step around patches of snow wishing spring would hurry and get here. “I bet she’ll be happy. Girls love that kind of shit, man.” He grins, obviously pleased with his plan.
Back inside our suite, I sit on the couch with my feet propped up. I look around at our space. It really is a kick-ass setup, but again we’re athletes and universities are going to give us the sweetest accommodations money can buy. If I weren’t forced to live here and didn’t have a curfew, I might actually enjoy living here.
Monday I go to class as usual. In Econ, I see Hannah sitting in the front row of the huge lecture hall. Since I now know she’s in this class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, my eyes automatically zone in on her. Now that I’ve seen her I can’t un-see her and honestly, the more I stare at the back of her head, the angrier I become. How the fuck can she just blow me off? It pisses me off that she thinks she knows everything about what my life’s been like since she wrote me off. There’s no way she knows shit about me other than what she’s either read or heard. But that’s not all of me. Since she’s the one who threw our friendship out the door, there’s no way she knows about Dylan leaving, my parents dying, the new house Dylan bought when he was awarded custody of us. There’s no way she can know about my custom bike business just waiting for me to finish college.
Would she even give a shit about all that?
This girl is really fucking with my mind and it’s driving me crazy. When I’m checking-out of class with Anthony, she walks right by me, keeping her head down as if to avoid me. Fuck it. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then that’s fine. We had our time. I’ve got new friends. I’ve gone this long without her just fine, so I don’t need her now.
I walk outside and quickly make my way to get lunch. After that, I’ve got English, oh joy. The class is smaller, and the professor is a cute young thing in her first year, and she’s way too excited about it, too.
“Alright you guys, so it’s time for your first paper out of the five you will have in this class, just like I told you on our first day. I’ve been thinking really hard about this first paper. It’s going to be a research paper, and you will need five references; but there’s a twist in the research part. No technology can be used. I want you to find out what it’s like to use actual books you have to find in the library instead of typing something into the search engine of your laptop, phone, or tablet. Are there any questions?” Holy shit, she can’t be serious. While she passes out handouts detailing the requirements for the assignment, she continues to shatter our hopes for an easy grade, because who doesn’t just ask Siri for the answers to the universe these days?
“So for this paper only, you cannot use internet sources. Only books or periodicals from a library. I recommend going to Hale Library on campus. It should have anything you need, and they have a very friendly staff ready and willing to help. I want everyone to have at least two of their references by class on Wednesday.”
I scoff. Oh yeah, the staff there is fucking wonderful. And just like that I’m reliving the awesome conversation with a particular member of their staff.
Fuck my life.
Finally, she dismisses class, and people begin filing out. I shove the handouts for our writing assignment inside my backpack lost in my thoughts, really I’m wondering how seeing Hannah again will go down; that is, if I see her. I hear my name called from the front of the classroom, “Luke Monroe, can you come up here for a second before you leave?”
I zip my bag and head up to her desk. She’s been eye-flirting with me since the first day of class, just like she is now; and I’m wondering if she’s really going to make a move. I give her my best Monroe grin as I approach her desk, “Yes, Ms. Collins?”
She smiles, “You looked freaked out by my assignment. You do know where the library is, or do you need an escort?”
Cute and fresh as she is, fucking your professor will ax football.
I give her the chuckle that makes all the girls panties drop, “Yes, I know where it is, and I appreciate the offer to escort me so I don’t get lost.”
“Well good, I don’t think you should have any trouble, but if
you need any help, at all, please let me know.” I nod and thank her.
Thinking the library will probably be dead, I decide to see just how easy research sans technology is going to be.
And here I am at Hale Library again. I walk upstairs and feel a little overwhelmed. I’m out of luck thinking no one would be there. It’s not that all the people make me uncomfortable. Hell, I play football in front of crowds of 40,000 plus. That notoriety also makes going anywhere in the State of Kansas difficult for me; however, on campus it can be worse. Everyone wants to talk to you, or hell, just accidentally touch you. Some are subtle about it, others not so much.
There are rows of computers that I go right on past since they’re useless to me on this paper. Instead, I head to the front desk to ask for help, and wouldn’t you know it, Hannah fucking Martin is the only one there.
Screw this.
I walk toward the stacks in the back of the library. I can figure this shit out on my own. Of course, I know this is insane. Thousands of books, endless ideas of subjects, and no idea which one to choose to research. I decide to walk the rows to see if anything jumps out at me. On the third row, I have an epiphany: motorcycles. That should get her attention, because she’s probably thinking I’m going to tell her all she wants to know about football. No one on this campus, except for a few teammates, knows anything about my work with motorcycles.
Now, if I could just get the word “motorcycle” to jump off one, or five, of these thousands of books I can get the hell out of here. Then I remember Hannah being the only one at the front desk, and I want to skip another showdown with her. I’m just deciding that coming back another time will be a better decision when I feel a small hand touch my shoulder startling me from my thoughts, “Jesus!”
I turn, expecting to see a “fan” and instead see Hannah standing behind me looking just as startled as me, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You just look like you need help.”
You have no idea.
Chapter 6
Hannah
He looks so lost, in more ways than one. I noticed him as soon as he walked in the library tonight, and I didn’t miss the way he quickly looked away and retreated into the stacks. I feel awful about how we left things the last time I saw him. But I also know that I should stay away. The problem is, I can’t get over the look on his face tonight. He just looks so broken. And like a beacon, I follow him and watch while he wanders aimlessly through the massive amount of books. After a few moments, I take pity and do my job.
Now he’s scowling at me, “I don’t need your help, Hannah. I’m fine.”
I’m not going to lie, his anger hurts. But again, I deserve it, and I know it. “Lucas, I work in the library, and it looks like you are looking for a book. I can help.”
“Why would you want to? You fucking hate me now, right? So don’t bother. Believe it or not, I have been in a library before.”
Now I know my bitch attitude has really hurt him, and I hate hurting him, even if it’s for my own good. He still has that little bit of a temper, not a scary one, but he will let you know when he is angry. “I don’t hate you. Just let me help you. Start with telling me what you’re looking for.”
“Is this because you think I’m just a dumb jock who can’t possibly read the titles on all these big books?” A small giggle escapes my mouth, I don’t know why, but for some reason that makes me laugh. Luke was always good in school. He even helped me pass math a few times. I don’t think he appreciates my small show of humor because now he looks irritated, “Don’t laugh at me, Hannah.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I know you’re angry with me, but that aside, this is my job and I know that you aren’t in here for the hell of it, so just tell me what you’re looking for.”
He sighs and softens a little, “I have an assignment in English for a research paper, and I can’t use the internet, only books. So the dumb jock has to figure out these things called books.”
I giggle again, and he examines my face like he is trying to figure me out. I know he must think I’m crazy because I have been so cold to him since seeing him again after so long ignoring him with no explanation. Luke reminds me of a time in my life that was so fun and easy. A time where I was free to be me. That’s why I need to push him away. But right now I’m going to do my job and help him with this assignment. That’s the least I can do. “Stop, we both know you aren’t dumb. So what is your paper about?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to tell me and then sighs, “Motorcycles.”
That’s it. I laugh again. That’s not the answer I expect. He’s a football player, and he wants to do a paper on motorcycles. Honestly, I think that’s interesting and it surely has me curious. Football, yes. Cars, yes. I guess I missed a lot in the last three years. Luke has never shown an interest in motorcycles. He cracks a small grin at that. The one I’ve seen so often in my dreams. I try to keep a straight face, “Well, I think that’s a great topic.”
“I mean not just motorcycles in general. I’m interested specifically in the history of racing them. I already know quite a bit, but I want to know more of the history about it, I guess.”
I smile, “I think it’s great. It will be easier to write a paper about something you actually care about.”
He looks a little….guilty? “Yeah.”
“Well, why don’t you follow me, and we can search for that subject on the computer? It will help find specific books.”
He looks like he wants to tell me no, but follows me when I head over to one of the computers. As I log in, I can feel him looking over my shoulder. I pull up all of the books about motorcycle racing. God, he smells good, too good. More manly than I remember, yet still so familiar. His closeness is messing with my mind and stirring responses I have to ignore. He reaches and points at the screen over my shoulder, and I notice the knuckles on his hand are all bruised and split. “I want these two right here on the history of their design for racing. And those three about motocross and FMX. Those are exactly what I need.”
I print the information on the books so he can locate them in the stacks. I know I don’t really have the right to ask what happened to his hand, so I hold back, but I can’t deny that I’m curious. I help him find all of the books and then follow him to an empty table.
He sits down, and instead of returning back to the desk I for some insane reason take a seat across from him. His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Uh, thanks for your help, Hannah, but I think I got it from here.”
He’s right Hannah, walk away. Now. I stay put, “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Research papers can be daunting.”
He searches my face, probably trying to decide how sincere my offer is, and he doesn’t look convinced that it’s real. “Look, you aren’t my tutor. You’re the librarian. You’ve done your job, and I appreciate it, so you can leave me to it from here. But thank you for your help.” He says the last part quickly before reaching for the first book. I think he’s actually dismissing me.
He’s giving me a reason to walk away. So why aren’t you taking it? “Lucas, are you sure you’re okay?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid girl, you can’t get involved. I ignore my warning because he looks so lost, and I’m much too familiar with that feeling. “I’m fine. Really. And you aren’t interested in getting to know me again, remember?”
Sadly, I do. “I know what I said. And it’s probably best not to.”
“Why? I don’t get what the hell your problem is. God, Hannah, we used to be best friends.”
“Lucas, you just wouldn’t understand that for me, it would just be too complicated to….” My voice trails off in a broken whisper.
“Tell me why,” he pleads. “You said we’re different people now, but you act like I’m fucking Satan or some shit, Hannah. I just want my friend back, what’s so damn complicated about that?”
“We are very different now. I’m trying so hard to live my life right.”
He looks confused and angry, “And just having a civilized conversation with me would mess that up? Explain to me how, please, because I’m getting sick of you treating me like I’m everything evil in the world, Hannah.”
“It’s just….” I trail off.
“What, it’s just what?” he pushes.
“Complicated.”
“You said that already, so uncomplicate it for me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He growls in frustration.
I go to stand up and he reaches for my hand, keeping me where I am, “Hannah, if you don’t want to talk about the past, that’s fine. I’m not asking you to bare your soul. I just think it’s crazy that you can’t acknowledge my existence.”
I know everything he says is true, and the only explanation I can offer for the way I’ve been acting is self-preservation. Would it really hurt anything to sit here with him and talk? “What happened to your hand?”
I can see on his face, he’s thinking about it. “Got into a fight.”
“Was it here on campus?” Surely that would have been campus news.
“No, back home.”
“With who?”
He sits back in his chair, thinking it over. “Just some asshole back home. I really don’t want to go into it.”
“Okay.” I give him a chance to change the conversation, hoping he doesn’t demand more answers about the past three years.
He looks around the crowded library and then back to me, “You like working here?”