Scorched Turf

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Scorched Turf Page 19

by Lilah Grey


  There’s no going back after that, not to a life of experiences rendered bland and dull by comparison. I won’t go back to a life without James.

  Corinne: Finally done. Heading over now.

  James: I’ll meet you.

  Corinne: Don’t worry about it.

  James: I’m not. I want to. I miss you.

  “You two are out late,” a familiar voice said, pulling my attention away from my phone.

  Dr. Collins wore his usual tweed jacket, white Oxford shirt, and tie. He stood on the step below us, his eyes passing between Violet and me. I glanced at Violet out of the corner of my eye. She’d begun fidgeting with her fingers, and her cheeks were beginning to flush, but I had a feeling it wasn’t because of the cool air.

  “I hope you’re not working too hard on your papers,” Dr. Collins said, smiling at Violet as he readjusted his leather satchel on his shoulder.

  “Not at all,” Violet muttered. “I never work hard on your paper. Wait—I mean. It’s not that I don’t work hard on it. It’s just…”

  Violet grabbed her elbows and stared at the ground. I cringed hard enough for both of us. Holy hell, Violet, keep it together. I would’ve thought that after all those meetings, she’d be a little more comfortable around Dr. Collins, but I guess not.

  Dr. Collins laughed, turning his attention to me. “Thanks for the outline. I’m looking forward to read your paper when it’s done.”

  “If it gets done…”

  “I know you have a lot on you plate with soccer, so if you need an extension, let me know. And you can tell your mother that you’ll have your recommendation by the deadline”

  “Thanks,” I said, cringing again. My mom needed to chill with the emails. I’m pretty sure she’d had more contact with Dr Collins than Violet and me combined.

  “Violet,” Dr. Collins said, shifting his attention back to her. Violet straightened her spine and dropped her hands to her side. “Do you have a moment?”

  A smile flashed on her lips, but she forced it into a thin line. “Of course.”

  Seeing my opening to leave, I wished both of them a good night and left to meet James. I was already feeling James’s effect on my body. It bubbled inside me, and I knew that as soon as I saw him, it would spill out. But it left me when I heard a familiar voice call out to me from behind, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Corinne,” Tyler said.

  Blood pounded in my head as I stood there, unable to command my legs to move.

  “Corinne,” he said again, but this time I could feel his breath on my neck.

  I turned my head, my eyes flitting to him for a moment.

  “You haven’t been answering my texts.”

  “Or your calls,” I said, finally gathering myself.

  I shrugged off his hand. “There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

  I walked forward, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me back hard enough to turn me around.

  “Yes, we do.”

  A sick feeling welled in my stomach as I looked into the eyes of a person I once loved. They were wet with tears, ringed by red, puffy skin. I’d never seen Tyler cry.

  “Please,” he breathed, the sickly sweet stench of alcohol on his breath. “Let me explain. Give me a fucking chance to explain.”

  I broke from his grip and took a step away from him. Even in his current state, I could see glimpses of the person I once knew. The brown eyes I’d once found irresistible. His thickly muscled body and handsome face. But the magnetic pull he’d once exerted on me had all but disappeared.

  I’d imagined confronting Tyler many times before, but I never drummed up enough courage to go through with it. I knew it would just end with me in tears and accomplishing nothing. I never thought Tyler would be the one to approach me, tearful and begging. I felt bad for him, but then I remembered what he’d done to me, what he’d cost me, and all empathy I had for him vanished.

  “There’s nothing you can do or say that will change anything.”

  I turned around and walked away.

  “Corinne, please.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

  A few moments later, I spotted James walking toward me.

  “Who’s the guy?” James said, a concerned look on his face as he watched Tyler stumble away in the opposite direction.

  “No one,” I said, grabbing his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “He’s no one.”

  JAMES

  Life is perfect.

  The thought flickered in my mind as I watched Corinne move around in the kitchen, grabbing snacks for us. It’s in little moments like this that I find myself lost in my love for Corinne. The way she moves. The way she thumbs stray tendrils of hair behind her ear. A glance. A smile. The soft sound of her voice as she hums along with the music playing in the background.

  All of these little moments, the ones we take for granted everyday, are the ones that matter the most. Our lives are filled with them, but we let them pass by without a second thought as we wait for the next big event. I’m not doing that with Corinne. I’ll never take a moment with her for granted, no matter how big or small.

  As Corinne sat down on the couch next to me, munching on the popcorn she just made, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She glanced sidelong at me, smiled, and then looked back at the TV.

  “You’re missing the show,” she said, finally.

  “No, I’m not.”

  I reached out, threaded my fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, and pulled her lips into mine.

  Nothing would have my attention more than Cori.

  36

  Corinne

  I leapt in the air, pumping my fist as three sharp whistles from the referee cut through the crisp morning air, signaling the end of another game.

  Another win. Another step closer to the post season. To the draft…

  We’d been on a winning streak, four in a row, bringing our record for the season to 11-3-4. Of our last four wins, three of them were teams ranked ahead of us, one of them ranked number three. We had momentum. We were going to make it to the post-season. I knew it; we all did.

  These last few games had been some of my best, and I knew the reason; he was beaming at me from the sideline. From that first night I’d spent with James, everything in my life had fallen into place. I had a clear vision of my future, and there wasn’t a single obstacle in my way that I couldn’t handle with James by my side.

  He was the missing piece in the puzzle of my life, the piece that fit perfectly into the jagged, malformed hole that had opened up inside of me. I filled my day with James. When I wasn’t with him, while he practiced with the Stars or while I was at school, he was on my mind. He owned my attention, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Well, well,” James said, walking up to me with his arms folded across his, a grin on his lips. “I think I’m going to call the fire department.”

  My face flushed.

  Please don’t…

  I cupped my face with my hands because I knew exactly what was coming next.

  “Because you’re on fire!”

  And there it was. One of the many facets of James that I’d discovered over the past month was his affinity for cheesy, cringeworthy jokes. Thankfully, it wasn’t another pun. I think I was developing PTSD from his puns. Seriously.

  “Don’t make me reconsider our relationship.”

  “You love my corny jokes.”

  I kind of did. But I’d never admit that to him.

  “Great job, Corinne,” Lillian said as she walked by James and me.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. Even though the early morning October air was chilly, I could feel my neck and cheeks flush. Ever since Rylee had mentioned that people knew something was going on between James and me, I’d been a little paranoid about interacting with him in public. If we wanted it to work, we had to keep it a secret, which was easier said than done because I wanted to rip off his clothes every time I saw hi
m.

  I knew what he was hiding under those form-fitting white tees and tattered blue jeans of his; I’d kissed every inch of his powerful, sinewy body; I’d traced every ridge and every contour with my fingertips. I’d mapped out his entire body and could recall it at will.

  We had to be careful. I had to make do with our stolen glances during practice; the light touches that left my skin burning; the quick kisses in the hallway as we passed each other. I had to remind myself that at the end of the day, once all of our responsibilities were met, we’d be together and everything that had to be bottled up would spill out.

  But I was greedy and selfish in my desire for James, and more than once we’d nearly been caught. When James walked into our morning workout one day last week, I knew I was in trouble. His mouth-watering biceps were on full display, and with every movement, I could peek through the open slits down the side of his shirt and see the muscled ridges of his torso. We hadn’t even started stretching before I jumped on him.

  “It’s your fault,” I’d told him, shirking all responsibility.

  James tried to protest, but my lips wouldn’t let him.

  And then a few moments later, the door creaked open and Rylee walked in. The shock of hearing that door open sent a burst of adrenaline through my chest. She didn’t see us hidden behind some of the machines, but she knew something was up when she approached, both James and I red-faced and out of breath.

  That workout was torture, but the post-workout sex in the locker room showers was some of the best I’d had, our brush with discovery fresh in both our minds.

  “Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!” Chloe said, using a sweeping motion in an attempt to shuffle James away. “Get your ass out of here. You’ve got a game to go to.”

  “Chloe!” James and I said in unison.

  She readjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Jeez, sorry.” A brief pause. “Please get your ass out of here, Coach. Sir. James. Sir James Coach. Mr. Flame? I dunno, that’s all I’ve got.”

  James’s suspension was officially over, and he was making his debut tonight. Our entire team was going to be in attendance, James’s treat.

  “I guess I should get going,” James said with a sigh as he looked at his watch.

  This was the one part of our relationship that I hated: James leaving. This same scene played out multiple times a week as he split his time between here and New York. James looked at me, and I could feel his magnetic pull, tugging at my heart. Not with Chloe here. I’d have to wait until tonight. After the game.

  I wanted to drive up with James, but Chloe had offered to drive me and I accepted; we hadn’t hung out much outside of practice, and I missed that.

  “See you two later,” James said, his eyes lingering on mine.

  “And Jack,” Chloe said, her eyes growing wide. “You’re introducing me to Jack. Do not. Forget.” It was less a reminder than a threat.

  “Yeah, yeah. Corinne told me.”

  “Great!” Her voice light and bouncy. “Do you think he’ll sign my chest?”

  “Chloe!” I said, glaring at her while James laughed.

  “Kidding! But really though. I want him to sign my chest. I picked out a spot… here.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I said.

  James snorted as he turned to leave. The familiar, sinking feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. Fortunately, or maybe not so much, I didn’t have time to wallow. Chloe was amped up at the prospect of finally meeting her one and only soccer crush: Jack McGregor.

  “Bra or no bra?” she said.

  “Wha-pwa—”

  “Bra. You’re right. Don’t want to show too much nip when he signs my chest. That can wait until later.” She turned, looking at me with an expression that could only be described as psychotic and said, “Because we will be going out after the game. We will.”

  “You’re kinda scaring me Chloe.”

  Chloe flashed a grin and then skipped off toward the lockers. “Let’s go!” she called out over her shoulder, mid-skip.

  “I’m coming…” I sighed, following after her.

  Please let her radio be broken, I repeated in my head like a mantra.

  Please. Be. Broken.

  “I know when that hotline bling!” Chloe rocked side to side in the driver’s seat as she belted out Drake’s Hotline Bling out of key and at the top of her lungs.

  Nope. Not broken. But my eardrums would be by the end of this car ride.

  The CIA should forget playing The Meow Mix Jingle, Christina Aguilera, or Britney Spears during interrogations. They should enlist Chloe Carter to cover bad pop or rap songs for them. Interrogation time would be cut in half; I guarantee it. The poor subjects wouldn’t stand a chance…

  On second thought, I don’t think anyone should have to endure that sort of punishment. It’s cruel and inhumane.

  “Please focus on the road,” I groaned, as I leaned against the window. “I’d prefer not to die tonight.”

  Chloe rocked her head over to me, grinning wildly.

  “That can only mean one thing,” she screeched before looking back to the road.

  We’d only just pulled onto the highway. This was only the beginning…

  Lucky me.

  JAMES

  The locker room buzzed with energy as camera shutters clicked, bright lights flashing in every direction. Members of the press weaved in and out of groups of players, angling for useable sound bites, but no one was giving the reporters the time of day. Our collective minds were focused on the match ahead, a rematch of last season’s championship game. Interviews with the press were the least of our concerns. Jack had told a particularly high-strung reporter to fuck off, as gently as he could, sending him scurrying to the opposite end of the room.

  Usually, I’d be in the mix with the rest of the team, joking and shooting the breeze, letting off nervous energy before the game. Hell, I’d probably give an interview or two, but not today. My mind was elsewhere.

  Jack and I sat together in the recovery room; we’d been here for a while, away from the noisy locker room next to us. I’d finally reached a breaking point; I needed to talk to Jack about Corinne. Although nervous and uncertain about how Jack would react, I valued his opinion. I needed to know if I was crazy for feeling this way.

  I’m not sure how long we’d been talking; time seemed to blur during the conversation. Although, it was more a monologue than a conversation; Jack had been silent the entire time, only breaking the silence with slight nods, hmms, and uh-huhs. He propped his legs on the tub next to me and clasped his hands behind his head as he leaned back in a small wooden chair, eyes focused intently on mine.

  “I’m not crazy, right?”

  I searched Jack’s face. It was always hard to get a proper read on him because he was so even-keeled. But that’s what I liked about him, and why I spent the past half hour talking with him. He was rational, almost to a fault, but I knew whatever advice he gave me came from somewhere objective.

  Jack lifted his arms over his head as he stretched his back, letting out a groan before settling back into the same position. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then let it out slowly before silence blanketed the room again.

  He certainly knew how to draw out a moment.

  “Jack?”

  There was another brief pause before he finally spoke. “Do you remember one of the first things I told you? Back when you joined the league?”

  What did this have to do with Cori? A wave of annoyance rose inside me. Jack had a special way of doing things. I thought about it for a moment but came up short.

  “No.”

  “I told you not to let fame go to you head. To stay humble. We both know how that ended up.”

  “Right…”

  “For most of this year, you’ve been so wrapped up with yourself that you neglected the things that brought you to this point. Soccer. Your teammates. You were on everyone’s shit list, a breath away from being released and becoming another team’s prob
lem.”

  “And what does this have to do with Cori?”

  “I’m getting there,” Jack said, wagging his finger at me.

  Certainly didn’t seem that way…

  “All that changed. You reversed course almost overnight. The man sitting in front of me is nothing like the man who routinely missed practices or ducked out on his responsibilities.” He shrugged. “I had no idea what happened. It confused the hell out of me. But now it’s beginning to make sense.”

  “Care to explain it to me, because I’m still trying to piece together what you’re talking about.”

  “Corinne,” he said.

  “Yes, that’s her name.”

  “No.” He shook his head as he leaned toward me. “It’s Corinne. She was the piece I was missing. She’s changed you Jamie.” He tapped my chest with his finger. “And for the better. You haven’t missed a single practice, Hawks or Stars, and you’ve even made it to the optional film nights. It’s a brutal schedule, but somehow you’re making it work. And now I finally know how and why.”

  There was no doubt that Cori had an effect on me, but it didn’t change the fact that I still had no idea how to proceed from here.

  “That still doesn’t answer my question, though.”

  “Right,” Jack said, nodding. “And now we’ve come to the hard part. Are you crazy for risking it all, your entire career for another person?”

  “I think I might have asked that question an hour ago.”

  Jack snorted. “Possibly.” After another brief pause, Jack said, “You’re not going to like my answer, only because there isn’t an answer I can give you. This is one you’re going to have to figure out for yourself. You know the risks. You know the consequences. I don’t need to lay it all out for you.”

  He was right; I didn’t like the answer.

  Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it as he looked at the ceiling.

  “If you lost everything, but still had her, would you be happy?”

  The answer surged up from deep inside me without hesitation; if I had nothing but Corinne, that would be more than enough for me.

  Corinne was, and would always be, my everything.

  Jack stood up, placed a hand on my shoulder. “Be careful,” he said, the words lingering in my mind long after he’d left.

 

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