“I wish I could.” She paused. “It’s your choice, but I do think you should say something to him. He shouldn’t get the last word in your life.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I was at Jon’s door first thing after practice the next morning. Kyle answered my knock, dressed in shorts and nothing else, running a towel through his hair.
“Hey, Abi.” He turned away and started back toward his desk, giving me a view of the back.
All I could say was...wow.
Jon set his laptop to the side and got off the futon. “Okay, time to get your jaw off the floor, Abs.” He wasn’t joking.
My cheeks immediately heated. “Well, gotta take advantage, right?” I attempted a playful smile between the two guys, who were obviously not my ideal audience.
Kyle’s ears went just as red as mine as he hurriedly threw on a shirt.
Jon just shook his head and turned to Kyle. “You steal my girl, you pay.” His words were only a little playful.
I took his hand and laced my fingers through his. I hoped he knew no one could compare to him. Not Kyle, not anyone. “Hey, can we talk?”
His eyebrows creased. “Everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Kyle grabbed his backpack. “I’m heading to the library to study with Anika. I’ll see you two later.”
I felt a little bad that he was always rushing out so Jon and I could have privacy. He’d been my boyfriend’s roommate and my roommate’s boyfriend for more than a semester now, and I felt like I barely knew him. “Hey, are you up for a double date with Jon and me? Anika and I have talked about it a few times, but never made it happen.”
He gave me a genuine smile. “That sounds awesome. Saturday?”
“Sure,” I said.
Kyle walked out, shutting the door behind him, and when I turned to Jon, I found a sour expression waiting for me.
“What?” he said. “You can just make plans for us now without running them by me?”
My heart sank. “That’s not what I meant. I just know you don’t have a lot going on anymore, so...” I stared toward the ceiling. I was just digging myself an even deeper hole.
“I get it.” He fell back on the futon, pulling his computer onto his lap. “I’m not on the track team anymore. I don’t have a job. I’m a loser with nothing to do.”
My eyebrows snapped together. “Jon, you can’t think like that.”
“Loser” and “Jon” were two words that didn’t belong in the same sentence. On the same planet.
His eyes met mine, tortured. “Why not?”
“Because it’s the farthest thing from the truth.” I went to him and cupped his cheek, rubbed my thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. “I wish you could see what I see in you.”
He closed his eyes against my words and took in a shaky breath. “Me too.”
I let my hand fall from his cheek as I sat next to him on the futon, pulled his computer away, and curled even closer him. I didn’t know what else to do other than be there.
His arms surrounded me, and he held me close like he was clinging on to the very threads that made him who he was.
Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he sat up. “Did you just come by to hang out?” He said it like he’d just remembered it.
“Oh.” My heart constricted even further. I didn’t want to trouble him with the word “loser” still echoing around the room. Around my chest. But after last semester, I’d made a promise to be upfront with him. Even if it made me uncomfortable. And my therapist was right. I mattered too.
He stiffened. “What’s wrong, Abi?”
“My dad is up for parole, and the hearing is next month.”
“Next month?” His mouth went slack.
I nodded.
“That’s so soon.”
I nodded.
“Are you going?”
Again, I nodded.
He frowned, every thought and emotion flicking unbridled across his visage. “Are you sure?”
“I have to go,” I said. “I have to.”
“Haven’t you been through enough?”
A sardonic laugh escaped my lips. Everyone around me was starting to sound like an echo chamber. Everything that had happened to me, it was enough to fill a lifetime of heartache. But I didn’t get to decide that. What I could control was myself, now. “All of the things he’s done to me...to Lupita...I have to do what I can to make sure he doesn’t walk free again. Not so soon.”
Jon rubbed my back in big, slow circles. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
I wanted to believe him. But could he handle being my rock with so much on his own plate? I admitted a truth I didn’t want to recognize. “I need you.”
I leaned into his warmth, into the rise and fall of his chest and the rhythm of his breaths. Sitting so close to him used to feel like being reset, reminded of what I had. But now I could only remember what I had to lose.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Anika leaned closer to her compact mirror, wiping at her makeup. “Why is it so impossible to put on matching lines of eyeliner?”
I cringed at my own uneven lines. “There’s a reason they focused on the lunar landing first.”
She giggled. “Whatever. I’m putting some eyeshadow over it.”
“One small step for Anika,” I said.
“One giant leap for women everywhere,” she finished, laughing. “I’m so excited to double date with you guys. Why the heck has it taken this long?”
The honest answer? “I’ve been pretty wrapped up in myself.”
As I said it, I knew how true it was. I didn’t feel guilty or attached to the answer. I’d had enough to worry about just keeping my head above water.
“You’ve had a lot going on,” Anika said, not arguing.
“I know.” I smiled, twisting in my chair so she could see I meant my words. “But I’m here for you now, I promise.”
She smiled back at me in her mirror. “Back at you.”
“Good.” I closed my mascara and looked in the mirror. “Tonight’s going to be so good for Jon.”
Her eyes widened in acknowledgement. “The injury’s been tough for him, huh?”
“It’s been tough for all of us,” I admitted. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”
“You know you can’t,” she said. “We can’t take away anyone else’s pain. We can just make sure they don’t suffer alone.”
My heart latched on to her words. That was so much easier said than done.
“Is he going to your track meet tomorrow?” she asked, putting her makeup back in her zipper pouch.
I nodded. “Luckily, his parents and my grandma are coming. I wouldn’t want him to go alone.”
“Can I sit with them?” she asked.
My eyebrows rose. I’d never even thought of asking Anika to a track meet, but now that football was over for Kyle, it made sense. “I’d love that!”
She smiled. “Me too.”
A knock sounded on our door.
“I guess that’s our ride,” I said, getting up to answer it.
I swung the door open, and I swear, it wasn’t fair for both of our boyfriends to be standing in the hallway, dressed up for a date, side by side. Kyle had traded out his usual sweats and tennis shoes for jeans and cowboy boots with a button-up shirt he filled out all too well. And then Jon. The piece de résistance with a tight navy-blue sweater that brought out the depth in his eyes, jeans that hugged him in all the right places, a gray stocking cap with his dark brown hair sticking out from the bottom. How he had ended up at my door and not at a name-brand photo shoot, I had no idea.
Anika came up behind me and draped my coat over my shoulders. “Ready to go?”
I nodded. The guys nodded. And we left the dorm, locking the door behind us. Kyle casually threw his arm over Anika’s shoulder, and they walked ahead of us toward the elevators. A small part of me felt jealous that Jon had to walk on crutches, separated from me.
I t
ried shaking the feeling with a question. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
Anika turned her head and looked back at us over Kyle’s arm. “I was thinking karaoke?”
“Fun,” I said, which was really translation for why in the world would we want to engage in such a masochistic display of humiliation in front of an unnamed audience?
Jon met my eyes. His gaze said the same thing.
I just shrugged. We couldn’t say what a terrible idea it was in front of the other two. They knew where we slept.
Kyle had pulled his black pickup up front and had it running with remote start. After he got the doors unlocked, Jon and I climbed into the spacious back seat. While he buckled into the seat by the door, I slid into the middle and belted in so I could sit next to him. I loved going on dates with Jon. Especially ones where we didn’t have a center console separating us.
With a twist of the dial, country music poured through the speakers. A song about love and loss and the night sky. I glanced out the window but couldn’t spot any stars. Austin was too lit up at night, not like Woodman with its sparse streetlamps. I could always count on a few specks of light there.
Jon squeezed my hand, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. This was nice.
Anika twisted in the front seat and looked back at us. “What song are you going to sing tonight?”
Jon laughed at the same time I did, making Anika draw her eyebrows together.
“We’re not musical people,” I explained. “And don’t even ask to see us dance.”
“Even before my injury,” Jon added.
Kyle chuckled low. “You don’t have to be an expert to hold your girl close and sway around.”
Anika smiled at him with gooey eyes. I loved that they loved each other so much. Jealousy ached in me at the fact that they could just enjoy each other and their freshman year of college. I wanted that for Jon and me so badly, but I was starting to wonder if an untroubled day, much less year, would ever happen.
I held Jon’s hand just a little tighter. At least we had this moment together. I needed to savor it.
Kyle pulled in front of a bar and stopped along the sidewalk. “I’ll let you off here, Jon.”
“I can walk,” Jon said. “Go ahead.”
“It’s no problem, man.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “We can wait for them up front.”
Jon’s voice got tight. “I said, ‘Go ahead.’”
My heart recoiled, and Kyle glanced at us in the rear-view mirror, his eyes showing the surprise I felt at the force behind Jon’s statement. But no one uttered another word contrary. Kyle put the pickup in drive. We had to park at least a quarter of a mile away, and Jon leaned heavily on his crutches for the long walk.
There wasn’t enough room for him and me and the other people walking by on the sidewalk, so I had to walk behind him, in a single-file line, watching his shoulders labor with each swing of his crutches and brace.
Anika and Kyle walked ahead, in their own world, and I found myself wishing I could be in my own world too. Why hadn’t Jon just accepted the offer? It was nice, thoughtful, of Kyle to think of dropping us off closer.
By the time we reached the club, Jon’s face was tight with pain. Walking on the crutches hurt his underarms, and putting so much pressure on one of his legs wasn’t healthy.
As if that weren’t bad enough, all of the seats were full inside the bar, leaving us leaning against a wall instead of resting like Jon needed to be.
“I’m going to sign us up for a song,” Anika said to me. “Are you good with ‘Tuxedo’?”
“First of all, if it’s a country song, no,” I quipped. “And I don’t sing, so... also, no.”
She laughed. “It’ll be fun. I promise.” And then she turned and disappeared toward the DJ stand.
“Did you put her up to this?” I asked Jon.
He managed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, but I should have.”
“Have you heard the song?”
He sang a few painfully cringy, twangy lines from a song about men with strong hands.
“God no.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I flinched. “Be sure to remove all the evidence.”
“It might cost you something,” he said over the current drunken pair singing “Friends in Low Places.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
His eyes sizzled. “I think you know.”
“Oh?” Fire lit in the pit of my stomach, melting the ice that had been there earlier.
He nodded. “Think you can handle it?”
I stepped closer to him, raised myself on my tiptoes, and whispered, “Yes.” It had been way too long. To seal the deal, I nibbled his earlobe.
He gasped, gripping my side, but I pulled back.
“Just a preview,” I said, winking.
“Can’t wait for the real thing.” There was no humor in his voice. Only the real hunger I felt growing inside me.
“Can we just go home?” I asked.
He nodded over my shoulder. “I don’t think Anika would let that happen.”
“What?”
I turned just in time to see Anika yell from the stage, “We’re up!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Of all the forms of torture in the world, standing in front of a room packed with people, including my smirking boyfriend, had to lead the list for top ten worst.
Anika handed me a microphone, her eyes gleaming. I stared at the sign in front of us that said dropping the microphone would result in a hundred-dollar fine.
I wanted to tell them no one was going to be performing well enough to warrant a mic drop.
Well, except maybe Anika, who was rocking back and forth to the opening chords of the music.
“Are you drunk?” I asked her, away from my mic. She had to be drunk to do this on purpose.
Laughing, she shook her head and pointed at the screen with words on it. “Let’s go!”
She sang the opening lines of the song, her voice perfectly hitting each note, and the crowd cheered for her.
Her eyes told me to join. So I did. Badly.
I covered my face, then peeked out to catch Jon sniggering, whooping for us. Honestly, I’d make a fool out of myself every day of the week to see him having this much fun. So I hammed it up. Did my best awkward country two-step on the stage, hooked my fingers in my belt loops, twirled hair around my finger, sang with Anika like the song was made for us to perform.
At the end, the crowd had their hands in the air. Anika set the mic in the stand. “One, two, three, cannonball!” She flung herself into the crowd, who lifted her up.
Jon raised an eyebrow at me, and all of a sudden I was in the cemetery again, staring into Roberto’s coal-black sparkling eyes as he dared me to go streaking with the rest of them. And I was saying I wanted to live.
I took a running start and leapt into the hands of the people who passed me along with Anika. I caught sight of her grin and beamed right along with her. This was what college should be like. Pure euphoria. Singing horribly to a crowd who loved it anyway. My boyfriend laughing and having the time of his life.
The hands passed us to the back of the room, and a couple of guys made sure Anika and I landed on our feet. They were cute, big, not fit, but strong—clearly.
“Want a drink?” the one closest to Anika asked.
“We’re not allowed,” I said at the same time Anika said, “We have boyfriends!”
Her answer was way smoother than mine. Either way, the guys left, and we worked our way back toward our guys, who had finally found an open booth.
Jon moved his brace out of the way and opened his arms for me. “There’s my Mariah Carey!”
I rolled my eyes, blushing harder than before. “I prefer Shakira.”
“Your hips don’t lie.” He smirked.
I kissed the smirk right off his face, still high with the rush of performing, crowd-surfing, and his smile, wider than I’d seen it in wee
ks. “I love you,” I said.
“I love you more.”
“I’ll remember you when I make it big.”
He pulled me in closer and smiled over at Anika. “You have a voice.”
Kyle grinned proudly. “She’s amazing. I’ve been getting her to sing at church.”
Anika buried her head in his shoulder, bashful yet again, like all that confidence I’d seen on stage was just a show.
Jon lifted his chin. “Do you practice the crowd-surfing there too?”
“God no,” she said.
Jon got out his phone and swiped to a photo of the two of us lifted high in the air. “You sure?” He held it out to her. “You look right at home.”
“Please.” She took a drink of Kyle’s pop and kept her eyes on the cup.
A new song came on, and Kyle asked her to dance. As he led her to the dance floor, I snuggled in closer to Jon.
“Kyle was right about one thing,” Jon said. “I’ll never need an excuse to hold you close.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The next morning, I ate breakfast with Jon, Anika, and Kyle. They were all planning on going to my track meet together and getting together our families there.
Nervous flutters filled my stomach. First that my friends would be watching me run for the first time. Second that I would encounter someone who’d seen my spectacle from the night before. What the hell had gotten into me?
Then I looked across the table at Jon. At his green eyes and the short stubble on his chin, at the curve of his lips, and I remembered why I’d made such a fool of myself.
He was in full-blown cheery mode this morning, trying to pretend the fact that this would be the first track meet for him off the team wasn’t eating him alive inside.
I reached across the table for his hand, and he took it, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. He didn’t want to be comforted right now. So, I did what Anika suggested—sat with him through his pain.
But I couldn’t sit with him forever.
“I better get going,” I said, trying to gauge his reaction.
His face was a clear slate. “Good luck, babe. You’re gonna do great.”
Abi and the Boy She Loves Page 11