by K. A. Linde
In short, there was a reason that every girl at St. Catherine’s wanted a piece of him.
“Uh, hey.”
He gestured to me. “Are you all right? Someone coming to get you?”
I glanced down at my phone and wanted to curse my mother. “My mom said she’d be here.”
“You live downtown, right? I’m going that way.”
I had no idea how he knew where I lived. I didn’t even think that he knew my name.
“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I’ll wait.”
He arched an eyebrow. “It’s too cold, and you can’t walk.”
Which was exactly what I’d been thinking, but my hackles rose regardless. “I can walk.”
“I see that you are capable. Well, if you don’t want a ride, I can wait with you until your mom shows up.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Delilah, but we’re the only ones left.”
“It’s Lila,” I said automatically.
I’d stopped correcting Shelly, who liked to sing that Plain White T’s song “Hey There Delilah” on repeat, but I still tried to get everyone to call me by my preferred name.
“Sorry, Lila,” he said, switching easily. “I thought everyone called you Delilah.”
“Shelly Thomas sings Delilah to me. It’s different.”
“That sounds like Shelly Thomas.”
Yeah, it did. Shelly was an acquired taste.
“So, shall we wait?” he asked gallantly. “I was raised not to leave beautiful girls alone at night.”
I rolled my eyes. “Beautiful girls?”
He quirked a half-smile. “What’ll it be? Wait or ride?”
A shiver shot through me as he rolled the word ride at me. As if he were thinking of something else entirely.
“Well, I was raised to not take rides from strangers.”
He laughed. “All right. That’s fair.” Then he stepped forward and offered me his hand. His fingers were warm—unbelievably warm—as I slid my frozen grip into his. “I’m Ash. Well, James Asheford Talmadge IV, but my dad is James, and, well, you can understand why I don’t go by Asheford.”
I could understand that. “Nice to meet you.”
“Look, now, we’re not strangers. Are you going to let me take you home?” He stared me down as if daring me to say no again.
But a twinge of worry had crept up in me, the longer I stood here. No text or call from my mom and no other way home. I really didn’t want to walk. Fuck.
“All right. Thanks.”
“Excellent.”
Then he headed toward the only car still in the massive parking lot. And of course, it was a Mercedes.
Ash pulled the passenger door open for me, letting me settle in before he got into the other side and turned the heat on full blast. He even had heated seats, which normally, I’d roll my eyes at but I was thankful for it tonight.
“Thanks for this,” I told him as we pulled away from the football field toward downtown.
“No problem. Seriously, I’m going that way.”
I checked my phone again. Still nothing from my mom. I sighed.
“So, anything special planned for break?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he knew about my canceled plans. But why would Shelly tell him anyway?
“No,” I finally said. “I was supposed to go skiing with Shelly, but she had to cancel the whole trip. So, now, I’m not going.”
Ash was unusually silent for a few moments. I’d been expecting him to say something conciliatory, but he just looked … blank.
“The trip was canceled?” he asked right as I was about to say something.
“Yeah. She told me after the game.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I don’t think it’s canceled.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.
“I mean that Shelly’s still going skiing.”
“But … no, she said her parents were taking her to New York.”
“I don’t know what she told you, but some of the guys in the locker room were trying to get me to go with them on Shelly’s ski trip. I guess her brother is going to be out of town and gave her the entire house. She invited all the guys to drive up with them.”
I blinked in horror. My stomach dropping out. “She said this tonight?”
“Fuck, sorry to be the one to tell you, but she must have pulled a Shelly.”
“Pulled a Shelly?”
“She’s notorious for pulling this kind of shit.”
My hands were shaking. I was going to throw up. Shelly had lied to me. She’d likely never intended for me to go skiing with her. She’d invented the whole thing so that she could tear me down. It was … unfathomable.
“Are you going?” I asked, my voice tight.
“Nah, even if I didn’t have to work, I have no interest in Shelly’s games.”
“You work?” The surprise was evident in my voice.
“Yeah. My dad says it builds character. Plus, if I don’t work, I won’t have gas money.”
I glanced over at Ash with new eyes. I’d seen him as a spoiled, rich kid, like so many of the students that I went to school with. As far as I knew, I was the only one at either school who worked. And while Ash and I worked for entirely different reasons, it changed my idea of him.
“I work at a dance studio on the weekends.”
“That’s cool. I didn’t know you danced.”
“Yeah. Cheering is actually a new thing. Thought I’d make friends.” I rolled my eyes. “Should have known better.”
“Hey, don’t let Shelly Thomas get to you. She’s not worth your time.”
Easy for him to say.
I leaned my head against the cold window in response. A few minutes later, I directed him in front of my house downtown.
My dad had bought the house when he and my mom had first been dating. It was the only thing we still had of him after he skipped town and left the paid-off mortgage to my mom. She’d wanted to move a dozen times, and she knew that even though the free house was hush money to not come after him—which she never did—she couldn’t bear to sell the place.
“Thanks for driving me home,” I told him as I popped the door open and slung my cheer bag over my shoulder.
“Hey, Lila.” He stopped me before I could rush up the front sidewalk.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“Work,” I offered.
He grinned. “After work?”
“Uh, no. Why?”
“Do you want to hang out?”
My jaw dropped slightly. I’d just thought that Ash was being nice to me. Poor little poor girl with no car and no family to come and get her.
Was he asking me out? No, there must be a mistake.
My hackles rose. “I don’t need your pity.”
He balked at the comment. “Who says it’s pity? What if I just want to hang out with you?”
“Why?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “Do I need a reason? You seem cool. Not like the other girls at your school.”
I’d never known Ash before tonight, but I’d heard plenty of other girls talk about him. I knew all about his reputation. “Hanging out” with him was likely a bad idea. He probably used that line on every girl.
And yet when I looked at him, really looked at him, he didn’t appear to have any guile in the statement. He was either an incredible actor or actually sincere. The part of myself that was hurting right now from Shelly’s betrayal assumed the former, but the selfish, hopeful part wanted it to be the latter. Finding out the truth would probably break me.
“All right,” I said finally.
“Great,” he said with a dazzling smile.
We exchanged numbers, and then I got out of the car.
I’d probably made a mistake in accepting, but I couldn’t deny my pull to Ash.
6
Savannah
December 9, 2006
>
“Let me get this straight,” Marley said the next day at the studio, “you’re going on a date with the quarterback.”
I scrubbed at the fingerprints on the mirror with my sponge. “It’s not a date.”
Marley flung soap at me. “He drove you home and then asked you to hang out.” She put air quotes around hang out. “Then he said you were different than other girls. It’s a date.”
“But he didn’t ask me out. Just said to hang out.”
“What century are you living in, Lila?” she asked. “Hanging out is the new date language.”
“Ugh! Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“He’s hot, you’re unattached, and he asked you out. Why wouldn’t you go?”
“The rumor at school is that he’s a player.”
“Well, if he tries anything you’re not ready for, you sock him in the nuts.”
I burst into laughter. I loved when Marley got vulgar. It was such a Josie thing to say and do, and it made me miss her. I couldn’t wait until she was here this summer.
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
We finished up at the studio, locking the building back up with the key the studio owner, Miss Alicia, had given us for this exact purpose. I followed Marley to the minivan parked at the front of the studio. Marley had been raised by her grandparents, and they prioritized safety over anything. Though Marley hated the old minivan, at least she had wheels. It was more than I could say.
“So, where are you going on this date?” Marley asked as we left the studio and headed toward my house.
Marley’s grandparents lived only a few blocks over. I’d spent as many nights there as at my own house, growing up. Since I didn’t know any of my own grandparents, they’d stepped in.
“One, it’s not a date. And two, I don’t know. We’ve been texting.”
Marley squeaked. “You’ve been texting!”
“Just like normal things, Mars. Calm down.”
“His family owns, like, half of downtown. They’re in real estate. You could be, like, going to Pink House.”
I rolled my eyes. “No seventeen-year-old is taking a date to Pink House,” I said of the fanciest and most iconic restaurant downtown.
“So, it is a date,” Marley said with mischief in her eyes.
“Fine, Miss Inquisitive. Maybe it is a date.”
“Eep!”
Marley dropped me off, I grabbed the mail, and entered the empty house. My mom had still been sleeping this morning when I left for work, and there was a note on the fridge when I got home, saying that she was going to be working late, with a twenty-dollar bill to order pizza. I stuffed the twenty into my purse. Should cover dinner tonight if this wasn’t a date.
Then I darted upstairs to rummage through my mom’s makeup drawer and use her curling iron. She didn’t care about me wearing makeup or anything, but she didn’t buy me the nice stuff. My lashes looked twice as long with her mascara than my crap.
A text beeped on my phone from Ash.
There in five.
My stomach flipped as I hurried back to my room and tugged on black leggings, an oversize pink thermal, and knee-high black boots. As I waited for Ash to show, I thumbed through the mail I’d picked up earlier. Ninety percent of it was bills and trash. But then my hand froze on the envelope addressed to me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
It was from the University of Georgia. Early acceptance letters weren’t supposed be sent out until next week. No one else had said whether or not they’d been accepted yet.
I was still clutching the envelope, debating on whether or not I should open it, when there was a knock on the front door.
“Coming,” I called. I stuffed the envelope into my purse, unopened, and then went to the front door.
My breath caught. I’d never seen Ash in anything but a school or football uniform. I was unsurprised to see him in the typical Savannah prep clothes, but somehow, they looked better on him than anyone else. The pressed khakis and button-up. He even had on the quintessential boat shoes. His dark brown hair was brushed off of his face and artfully arranged. Those clear blue eyes set solely on me.
“Hey, you ready?”
I nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”
Nerves pricked at me as soon as I locked up and was in his car again. Maybe this was a date. It wasn’t like this was my first date. Marley and I had doubled with some guys from the public school. I’d grown up with them, so it wasn’t weird, but it was also very weird. One tried that awkward stretch at the movies to put his arm around me and subsequently punched Marley in the side of the head. It shockingly hadn’t worked out.
“Where are we going?”
“I hope it’s not too corny, but I was thinking we could ice skate.”
“Not corny at all. I actually love ice skating. We just can’t hurt my ankles,” I told him. “I have a three-hour pointe intensive tomorrow.”
His eyebrows rose. “That sounds painful.”
“No, it’s wonderful.”
“Don’t ballerinas have terrible feet from the shoes?”
“Yeah, that’s true. It does hurt, but when I’m on pointe, I’ve never been happier.”
“Must be nice to have found your passion.”
“Haven’t you? Or did I imagine you throwing the winning touchdown last night?”
He shrugged as he veered left down Liberty Street toward the Civic Center, which was converted into an indoor ice skating rink every year. “I love playing football, but I’m not going to do it in college or professionally or anything.”
“Well, I love dance, but I’ll probably never dance professionally.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. So few people get to, and I’m not good enough. If I get to dance in college, that’ll be worth it.”
“Where’d you apply?” he asked as he found us a parking spot.
“All over. UGA, Georgia State, Georgia Southern, UNC–Chapel Hill, Virginia, Florida, LSU, Bama, and Kennesaw as a backup.”
“And where do you want to go with that long list?”
“Well, I’d need a scholarship to even think about going anywhere out of state. Luckily, there’s HOPE Scholarship for anything in state.”
HOPE Scholarship was my saving grace. Anyone who graduated from a Georgia high school with a 3.0 or higher received free instate tuition as long as they maintained the 3.0 GPA at the university. It was funded by the lottery system, and I wasn’t about to fuck that up.
“I’d love to go to UGA. All three of my sisters went there. Elle graduates from there in May. I don’t want to be the only Greer sister to not become a Bulldog. What about you? Where’d you apply?”
He laughed derisively. “Duke.”
“Fancy.”
“Nah. I’m legacy,” he said as he pulled into a parking spot. “There’s not another option.”
“There are always other options,” I said as I got out of the car and came around to his side.
“Well, it’s the only option if I want college to be paid for. I could use HOPE, but my dad would kill me if I didn’t go to his alma mater.”
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
Ash shrugged, as if he’d come to terms with this development. “Not a big deal.”
“I actually …” I swallowed and pulled the envelope out, so he could see it. “I got this letter today.”
“Whoa! Did you get in?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know! I can’t make myself open it.”
He took the letter from me. “Do you want me to do it for you?”
I bit my lip. “Would you mind? I know my mom would want to see it, but she’s not around that much right now.” I realized I was babbling and shut up. “Please open it.”
He made a clean tear along the envelope. He removed the papers from within. I watched him scan the papers and then look up at me gravely. My bottom lip wobbled as I braced myself for the bad news.
Then, he flipped the papers toward me, and
a smile bloomed on his too-gorgeous face. “You got in!”
“I got in?” I shrieked. I snatched the papers out of his hands and jumped up and down. “Oh my God! I got in!”
Without thinking, I threw my arms around Ash’s shoulders. Tears came to my eyes as all my dreams suddenly materialized before me. Everything looked possible in this moment.
He slipped his arms around my waist. “I’m so happy for you.”
I pulled back slightly, suddenly embarrassed by my outburst, by throwing myself at him. We were still only inches apart. I swiped at the tears in my eyes, thankful I’d used my mom’s fancy waterproof mascara.
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said automatically. His hand brushed aside a stray strand of my natural ash-blonde hair. “It was cute.”
I swallowed and took another step back to put more distance between us. “Well, I appreciate you helping me out. Celebratory ice skating?”
“I think yes.”
I stuffed the papers back into my bag and jotted out a text to Marley and Josie, letting them know the good news. We walked up to the ticket booth, and as I reached for the twenty in my purse to pay for my ticket, Ash handed over cash for both of us.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Celebratory, remember?”
“Right. Well, thank you.”
He handed me my pass, and then we acquired skates. I sat on a bench to lace up my ice skates, and then we stashed our belongings in a locker. Although I didn’t go ice skating often, my mom had always loved roller skating. So, I adjusted quickly.
By the time I looked up again, Ash was ice skating backward in front of me.
“Show-off,” I teased.
He winked at me and then held out his hands. I placed mine in his, a tingle running all the way through my body at that first touch. His eyes lingered on my face as he pulled me along the ice.
“So … three older sisters,” he said. “How was that, growing up?”