by L A Cotton
Yeah, until she grew bitter and began to resent his ass for the commitment and dedication required to make something of yourself in one of the country’s top college football teams. High school football stars might have been treated like gods amongst men, but college was a whole other level of worship. Especially if you made waves, which I fully intended on doing. Penn hadn’t asked me to commit early because they thought I’d be a valuable asset to their team—they thought I had potential to be the asset.
Even if I wanted someone by my side through it all—and I didn’t—there wasn’t enough to go around. I couldn’t be committed one hundred percent to the game and committed to some girl. Being the best required sacrifice, one I was all too willing to make.
“It’s not for me,” I said with conviction.
“No one would put up with your brooding ass anyway.” Asher grunted as he worked the free weights.
It was a joke.
He was joking.
Yet, it didn’t stop the strange tug in my chest.
“Seniors Night next week. You ready, man?” he asked changing the subject.
“Figured I’d wing it.” I shrugged, folding my arms over my chest.
“Coach will be pissed you haven’t got some motivational speech prepared.”
“Coach can suck it.”
“Try saying that to his face.” Asher smirked, his expression sobering with his next words. “You know it’s funny, I’ve waited my entire life for this. State. College. But now it’s almost here all I can think is I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
“Nawww, you gonna miss us, Bennet?” I mocked.
“We can’t all be untouchable like you, Jase. Yeah, I’ll miss you guys. You’re my best friends. Starting college, having to prove yourself all over again… I’m not going to lie, it freaks me the hell out.”
His words sank into me. I’d never really given it much thought. Not when I’d had my eyes set on playing for the Penn Quakers for pretty much my entire life. It was in my blood; my legacy. My old man had the perfect career there until an injury ripped the dream out from under him. And when I came along, his dream became my dream. I’d been working toward taking Penn by storm for as long as I could remember. Now it was almost time. So while I loved my friends like brothers, I wasn’t worried about going off to college next fall. Because I’d been counting down the days since my old man gave me my first football.
And it was almost time for my dreams to become a reality.
“So you and Felicity, huh?” Hailee breezed into the kitchen.
“Excuse me?” I played it cool, leaning back on the counter, draining the rest of my protein shake.
“She said you had a good talk Saturday night?” She gave me a suspicious look.
“We talked, yeah. I wouldn’t say it was good.”
“So nothing happened?”
“Why?” My brows furrowed, “did she say it did?”
“Nope.”
“Well then, nothing happened.”
“Jason, don’t do that. Don’t deflect. I told you not to—”
Pushing off the counter, I brushed past her. “You don’t need to worry, little sis, me and Felicity are just friends.”
“Friends?” She snorted. “You really expect me to believe that you and... you’re up to something.”
Letting out a frustrated breath, I spun around, meeting Hailee’s narrowed gaze. “What the fuck do you want from me? I overlooked the fact you and Cameron—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, we love each other, we’re in love. Trust me, it would be a damn sight easier if I didn’t love your best friend. But I do. And I won’t apologize for that. If only you’d drop this macho don’t-care-about-anyone bullshit maybe you’d understand. Or even let someone—”
“Careful, Hails, you’re starting to sound like a romantic, and I know you know better than to think life is one big ole fairy tale and everyone gets their happily-ever-after.”
“Agh,” she threw up her hands, “You’re so frustrating. I give up.” Hailee stomped out of the room and I couldn’t help but smirk. Getting under my step-sister’s skin had once been one of my favorite pastimes, but now I saw it for what it was; juvenile sibling rivalry that had crossed a line.
I downed the rest of my shake and grabbed my keys.
“Jason,” Denise’s voice grated across my skin like nails on a chalkboard. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”
“I need to go, or I’ll be—”
“This won’t take a minute.” She gave me a strained smile. “It’s Hailee, she still won’t talk to me.”
“Not my problem.”
“I know the two of you still don’t see eye to eye, but I thought... well, I thought after everything, you might talk to her for me?”
“You want me to talk to Hailee about how you what? Ruined my family? Lied to her all this time? Stood by and did nothing while we terrorized each other? Tell me, Denise, what exactly should I talk to her about?”
Shame burned her cheeks as she spluttered, desperately trying to take control back of the conversation. I might have tolerated Hailee now because of Cameron and our shared hatred for our parent’s deceit, but I didn’t owe Denise anything. She represented everything I despised.
“Jason,” she sniffled barely holding back the tears, “that’s not fair. Me and your father never meant to hurt anyone.”
“That’s just it though, Denise, isn’t it? No one is ever supposed to get hurt but they always do.” The words hit me square in the chest.
It was the truth. People always found a way to hurt one another. Screw each other over in the name of love… greed… jealousy.
“I can see this was a bad idea; forget I said anything.” She hurried out of the kitchen, her sobs punctuating the tension.
I probably should have felt even an ounce of guilt at making my stepmom cry, but the truth of it was, adults were supposed to set the standards. To teach their kids respect and integrity. My old man might have taught me how to throw a perfect pass, but he failed miserably when it came to teaching me how to be a stand-up guy. Even after losing his shot at going pro, after meeting Mom and settling down, he couldn’t give up his football-star life. He and Mom spent years pretending, years of playing their roles as doting father and mother, husband and wife. When really it was all a sham. Mom stayed with him out of obligation, while he clung onto a dream that would never be his, finding solace at the bottom of a bottle or a stranger’s bed. I never wanted to treat someone the way Dad treated Mom. Someone he was supposed to care about, to love. Which is why I planned on never settling down. I’d seen enough news articles on football players and the impact of the game on their personal lives and relationships to know that it wasn’t worth the headache or heartache.
It wasn’t worth it.
But football, the game, that was worth it.
It was all I needed.
By the time I arrived at school, first class was already in session. Not that it mattered I was late. Teachers regularly turned a blind eye to my tardiness or absence. Instead of sneaking into AP Math, I decided to hit the gym. After my run in with Hailee and then Denise, I needed to burn off some extra steam, and practice wasn’t until after school.
But even after a good work out, I was still restless. It coursed through my veins, making it hard to focus. Usually, I’d text Jenna or one of the other gymnasts or cheerleaders to see if they wanted to help me relax, but the only person I wanted to text was the one person I shouldn’t.
I’d snuck out of Felicity’s room yesterday morning for a reason. To avoid any awkward conversations, where she got the wrong idea, and I had to dig my way out of the hole I’d gotten myself into in the first place. But my dick seemingly didn’t appreciate not getting his because before I knew it, he had me pulling out my cell phone and texting her.
Me: Where ru?
Felicity: You are alive then? I thought maybe you’d been abducted by aliens…
Me: I didn’t want to get you into trouble wi
th your parents.
Felicity: That almost sounds sweet... if it were true.
Me: It could be true.
It wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
Felicity: But we both know it isn’t. What do you want, Jason? I’m in class...
I smirked at her reply. Even via text conversation I could imagine her sassing me; hand on one hip, eyes wide and simmering with indignation. Her mouth all pouty and begging for attention.
Fuck.
This had shitstorm written all over it; yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I was so used to girls doing whatever I asked, jumping at a chance to be with me, that Felicity’s banter was refreshing. So much so, I wanted more. Craved it like an addict craved their next hit. Because while I didn’t need a distraction from football, maybe a distraction from all the other bullshit around me was exactly what I needed.
Me: Meet me after class.
Felicity: I can’t. I have this thing called class; you should look it up sometime.
Me: Skip. I bet it’s on your list...
The three little dots indicated she was replying, but time passed and still nothing. I’d been joking about the list thing but figured I’d hit the jackpot.
Me: I’m right aren’t I? It’s totally on your list.
Felicity: I’ve cut class before.
Me: And I’m a virgin. Come on, skip class and check another thing off your list... I’ll make it worth your while.
Felicity: You really shouldn’t make promises you have no intention of keeping!
Me: Maybe this is one promise I want to keep?
I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to feel so smug about luring her in, but I couldn’t deny it left me feeling all kinds of awesome.
When she didn’t reply, I typed another text.
Me: We can finish what we started at your house?
Felicity: When you came over and we TALKED?
Me: The only words I remember you saying are, ‘Oh God’ and ‘More’. Come on, Giles. It’s senior year. You’re running out of time and you know you want to.
Please want to. I stared at my cell, willing her name to appear.
Felicity: You’re going to have to work A LOT harder than this.
Shit. I hadn’t expected it to get this far, not really. But now she was in, I didn’t plan on backing out. One more taste. That’s all I needed.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I sent:
Me: Challenge accepted.
Felicity
“Hey,” Mya jogged up beside me. “What’s got your attention?”
“Oh nothing.” I shoved my cell in my pocket and flashed her a bright smile.
“Oh, really, the same nothing that had your attention at lunch and in government?” Her brow rose. “Come on, you can tell me. It’s one of them, right? Asher or Jason.”
“Ssh,” I grabbed her hand, pulling her closer.
“Shit, my bad. So I’m right?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It is one of them. You know I heard Jason left the party in a hurry Saturday.” Her brows waggled.
Pressing my lips together, I kept walking, but Mya followed. “You can talk to me, you know?” she went on, “I know what it’s like to want someone... bad for you.”
My eyes darted to hers. “I don’t...”
“Girl, it’s written all over your face every time he enters the room.”
Oh God.
The color drained from my cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“Seriously?” Mya’s mouth lifted in a half-grin, not that anything about this was amusing. “You’re fooling nobody but yourself.”
“Crap. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to...” I stuffed down the words.
“Fall for him?”
“I’m not... it isn’t like that. I know it’s doomed. He’s Jason Ford for Christ’s sake. But there is something there.” Something that was proving pretty damn hard to ignore. Especially since he wasn’t making it easy to forget him.
My cell vibrated again, and Mya nudged me, urging me to look at it.
Jason: Dancing naked under the rain?
“That is Jason, right? The Jason Ford? Because damn girl, what did you do to him?”
“It’s silly really.” I didn’t return his text, giving Mya my full attention. “I created this list for senior year, kind of like a bucket list.”
“Neat.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, I mean, life is for living, right? If having a list keeps you accountable, then why not, I say.” Mya slipped her arm through mine. “So what exactly is on this list, or is it a secret?”
“I don’t go around publicizing it, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s something for you, I dig that. But Jason knows about the list?”
“Yeah, Asher let it slip.”
“Asher?” Something flashed in her eyes. “What’s his deal anyway?”
“What do you mean?” We reached the room where book club held their weekly meetings.
“Doesn’t matter,” she backtracked. “This your stop?”
“Yeah, I pushed myself to take up a new hobby this year.”
Mya glanced at the temporary sign on the window and frowned. “And you chose book club? That doesn’t sound very bucket list.”
“Hey, it’s a start.”
“Yeah, but come on, you can do better than book club.”
Her words sank into me, cracking open every insecurity I’d ever felt about myself. All my fears about becoming my parents.
Mya was right—book club was safe. It wasn’t pushing any limits or breaking any chains. It was something my mom would have done when she was at school.
I shuddered.
“Oh dear God, I’m becoming my mother,” I grumbled, suddenly wishing I’d have signed up to wizards and muggles or JROTC.
“You want to make memories, right?” I nodded, unsure where she was going with this. “Then you need to think big. You need to think so big that when you look back at high school in twenty years’ time you can say you had zero regrets.”
“Zero regrets, I like the sound of that.” Even if it did terrify me.
“Ready to show me that list?”
Was I?
I doubted I’d ever be ready, but if I wanted senior year to be epic, maybe I needed Mya’s help more than I cared to admit.
“I’m home,” I called, dropping my keys on the sideboard and making my way into the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart, how was your day?”
I spent the day evading this hot guy’s text messages, overhauled my bucket list with my new friend from the city, and seriously considered cutting class. But not wanting to give my mom a heart attack, I went with, “It was the usual. You’re home early?”
“Dentist appointment. I scheduled you for next month.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She pushed a glass of juice toward me before going back to the pan of spaghetti. It was Tuesday which meant spaghetti. Tomorrow would be pot roast, and Thursday Mom liked to live on the edge with steak and chicken fajitas.
“Me and your father were talking yesterday and thought now is a good as time as any to start contacting businesses in the city who might be able to give you an internship next summer.”
“It’s only November, Mom. Isn’t that a little premature?”
“Absolutely not. Making the right contacts now could be crucial for your future.”
“I’ll get right on that,” I murmured, tapping out a tune on the counter. “Hey, Mom.” I asked after a couple of minutes silence. “What’s the most adventurous thing you did in high school?”
She glanced over her shoulder, brows pinched with confusion. “Adventurous thing?”
“Yeah, like sneak out after dark or make out behind the bleachers.”
“Felicity Charlotte Giles, what on earth has gotten into you?” A slight pink streak appeared across her cheeks.
“It’s for a school project,” I lied. “For En
glish.”
“A project you say, well,” she dried her hands on the towel shoved into the waistband of her pants, “Let’s see, there was that one time me and your father played hooky to go down to the lake for a picnic. We’d been dating six months and he wanted to make it special. Then there was the time we made out at the back of Mr. Kavendish’s classroom during Romeo and Juliet, that was particularly daring.”
“Rad, Mom.” I mocked, feeling my stomach sink.
“Sorry if my stories aren’t cool enough for you, baby, but we were good kids. We didn’t go looking for trouble and we were happy to live within the rules.”
I knew the story well. My parents were high school sweethearts who went on to college, graduated, and found jobs in the city. Together. Then I’d come along, their unplanned surprise, and upset all their plans. They never made me feel anything less than loved and cherished, but sometimes I wondered if their overbearing interest in my future was their response to having a child they weren’t prepared for.
“Do you ever regret only ever being with Dad?”
The lines around her eyes deepened. “The school really wants to know this stuff?”
Shrugging, I quickly fumbled for something to say. “They want us to compare senior year back in the day to senior year now, that kind of thing. They didn’t really give us set questions or anything. I just thought... well, you and Dad have been together forever. That can’t have always been easy.”
“Were we young? Of course we were. But when you know, you know, sweetheart. And I took one look at your father and knew he was the one.”