Incomplete

by Eliza Park

  I ran my fingers up and down his bare chest, trying to distract him from the very stupid question I’d just asked, “Sorry, I must have forgotten.”

  He graciously let it go, sighing with my fingers on his driftwood skin. “So did you tell your dad about me?” He asked.

  Eli had been pressing that question all summer, and my answer was always the same. I coughed out a laugh, “No, you know I don’t really talk to him.”

  “That’s strange though, isn’t it? Aren’t you like his only kid?”

  I shrugged, “He’s busy and despite being an only child, I’m still probably his least favorite,” I joked. My dad had and would always love Maverick more than he loved me. Mav was brilliant and courageous, funny, and confident. He cracked jokes and spoke eloquently around adults. He was the dream child, on all accounts. Especially to his own parents. And he didn’t need psychiatric intervention to be a person.

  Eli sat up on the bed, looking down at me with sudden disappointment, “Are you ever going to tell your parents about us?”

  I smiled, “I mentioned you to my mom, but don’t worry. If we get married, I’m sure they’ll send a really nice gift.”

  He rolled over me in a huff, grabbing his clothes off the floor and pulling them on.

  I watched him, confused. “Where are you going?”

  “I just don’t get it, Celeste. Your parents can’t be as bad as you say they are. I mean, look at this room. Look at your clothes and your $3,000 pens. There’s no way they just don’t care.”

  I shifted, holding the dark duvet to cover myself and sitting up. “I’m sorry, Eli, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m a disappointment to them. They don’t like to remember I exist.”

  He shook his head, stepping into his worn sneakers. “My friends warned me this would happen. That you’d try to hide our relationship from them because you’re ashamed.”

  “Ashamed of what?”

  “Of me!” He yelled, startling me.

  “I’m not ashamed of you,” I said, my voice shaking, “I’ll call my dad right now if you want but trust me when I saw it won’t make an ounce of difference to them.”

  “Whatever, Celeste, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He left, crawling back through the window we’d never bothered to close, leaving me completely naked on the bed and wondering what the hell had just happened. I shifted to get under the blankets, feeling confused and taken advantage of.

  All of my suitcases were sitting untouched by the door, having been flown in before my arrival. I stared at the cream-colored leather with the silver buckles, wondering how I could have managed to screw up our first time together. It was only early afternoon here, the sun would be up for hours and hours more, but I was already so tired. Eli had closed the window behind him, and I got up then to go and lock it, pulling the curtains closed and blocking out the sunshine. We hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights when we came in, and I didn’t do so now, choosing to wallow in the darkness and think about what I could have done wrong.

  I ignored the nagging thought in the back of my mind that Maverick had been right, and Eli was only interested in me for my dad. I had lied to him last year, saying that I didn’t care when I couldn’t help but do so. I didn’t want to focus on that possibility as I crawled back into bed and pulled the blankets up over my head. Everything was supposed to be so easy this year, or at least easier. I had the right meds that didn’t make my brain too foggy, a steady boyfriend who I’d waited to have sex with, I even had some friends I’d kept in contact with over the summer: Mandy and the redhead, April.

  Our first time wasn’t supposed to be like this. It should have been magical, full of orgasms and lasting into the early hours of the morning, followed by lots of cuddling and pillow talk. Instead, I was naked, alone, cold, and wondering what I was supposed to do. Do I text him and apologize? I couldn’t just call my dad and tell him I had a boyfriend. That would be one of the most uncomfortable conversations ever, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he just hung up on me halfway through listening to me talk. I tucked my hand out of the blanket and reached for the phone I’d let clatter to the ground in the back pocket of my jeans.

  I had a missed text message from our housekeeper asking if I’d arrived safely, but nothing else.

  Maverick had been radio silent since the Spring Formal, and I couldn’t blame him. I acted like a crazy, horny teenager on that dance floor, looking at him all googly eyed and wanting him to kiss me. Definitely not friendship status material. I pulled up my texting thread with him anyway and started typing.

  Me: How’s college life?

  Simple enough. Early afternoon here meant it would be even earlier morning in New Haven? I couldn’t remember the time difference.

  I wasn’t expecting a reply, but the three little dots appeared after a moment, and I froze, watching as a new blue message popped up onto my screen.

  Mav: Trying out for the football team. How’s the dream boat?

  I ignored the question, I couldn’t be honest about our first sexual experience together, Maverick would probably laugh and mock him.

  Me: You know that’s a sport, right? Where they throw things and run into each other?

  I closed my eyes, missing Maverick’s presence, and his spot next to me in any bed we shared together. I’d been missing him all summer but chalked it up to loneliness and habit rather than actual feelings of remorse or loss. I had hoped Eli would fill that void, but clearly, I had been mistaken somewhere down the line. He hadn’t explicitly broken up with me, though, so I still had a chance to make up for what I’d done wrong, which I could ask him about tomorrow. Eli and I just had to find our rhythm, get into that happy relationship swing we’d fallen into last semester.

  And everything would be fine.

  Chapter 14

  Maverick

  Coach Fitzgerald signed me up on the spot. He was a smaller guy who always wore a hat and chewed gum like a cow chewed grass. He watched me throw pretty poorly and run even more poorly from under the brim of his narrow cap, his hands behind his back. Despite thinking my performance was beyond terrible, when try-outs were over, he singled me out, calling me over to the sidelines and placing a giant sun spotted hand on my shoulder. His assistant coach held a clipboard to his side and sunglasses so dark I had to wonder if he could actually see.

  “Maverick Lockwood,” the coach said, having to look up at me from my shoulder, “You’re a natural, son, but I can tell you’re more of an academic type.” He smelled like coffee and cedar, reminding me a little of my dad. “I haven’t lost a championship in the 10 years I’ve been coaching here, and I don’t intend to this year. I’m putting you in as QB2 and maybe by next year we’ll make you into a decent quarterback worthy of my team.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stood back then, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I bet you could go pro after your senior year.”

  “Zero interest in that, actually, sir.”

  Fitzgerald smiled at me, “My best players are usually my smartest ones, and they always have some other goal in mind like being a doctor or a senator, or maybe a lawyer. I’m guessing you’re one of those.”

  “I’m pre-law, sir.”

  He nodded, slapping me on the shoulder once again before turning to dismiss me.

  “Actually,” I started, and he rounded back, his assistant watching me with a clenched jaw, “I just want you to know, Coach, I appreciate you putting me on the team at all.”

  “You were the best contender on the field today, Lockwood.”

  He left then, his assistant following close behind, talking with lowered eyebrows as they walked off the field.

  I followed the trailing line of other contenders and exited the training grounds, spotting Brody, Logan, and Noah by the parking lot. Brody had performed nothing short of spectacularly on the field. He’d caught every throw, and what I’d first thought about him had been beyond true. His legs were made of wheels. I’d never seen a man move so quickly. He grinne
d at me broadly when I approached.

  Logan smacked me on the back, hard. “Congratulations, QB.”

  “How did you know?” I asked, “I thought it took a week for the team roster to be posted?”

  Noah shrugged, “We saw what we saw.”

  “Fitz watched you the whole practice, man. You’re in,” Logan offered.

  “Well, I’m second string.”

  “Not for long,” Logan said, raising his eyebrows, “If we’re going to replace James by mid-season, we’re going to need to work on your game.”

  Brody shook his head at me, “You can throw, man, but damn if you can do anything else.”

  I laughed, “I’m that bad?”

  The grave looks from my fellow teammates made me wince. “What do I have to do?”

  “Lift.” Noah said. “And run.”

  “And watch a lot of football,” Brody added. “Seriously, every game that’s ever been played.”

  “So, which one was James?” I asked, glancing behind me at the emptying parking lot.

  “The guy that botched almost every single throw.” Logan said.

  “Really? He’s that bad?”

  Noah shrugged, a habit I was beginning to notice he partook in a lot, “I would bet he was a little distracted by the competition.”

  “Doesn’t matter, Lockwood,” Logan said, “What we need to do is get you in shape, and fast. Training begins bright and early tomorrow morning with your roomie here.”

  Brody gave me a wide, cheesy smile.

  ——————————

  The next morning I woke up to a loud, shrieking alarm. Brody’s face loomed over me, looking far too rested, “Let’s go future quarterback. We have a championship to win.”

  I rolled out of my bed groggily, somehow managing to put on some clothes and my shoes before I was dragged out into the cold morning air. The grass was wet and slippery, the campus in shadows. “It’s still fucking dark outside,” I grumbled to a stretching roommate. Brody was radiating energy, bouncing on his toes, and swinging his long arms.

  “Early bird, man. Let’s go.”

  We jogged. Well, Brody jogged, and I wheezed for a quarter of a mile before I felt like my lungs were surely going to explode and I would die. I kept pushing, knowing my running partner was altering his pace to make it seem like I was doing better than I was. At the two-mile mark, my legs gave out and I collapsed onto the grass, seeing colorful stars circling around my vision.

  Brody leaned over me, barely having broken a sweat. “That’s a good start. We’ll do it again tomorrow. I’m going to keep going but I’ll see you before classes, yeah?”

  “I may be dead,” I managed.

  He smiled, “As long as your arm still works.”

  And then he was gone, and I was allowed to suffer in peace while the sun slowly made its way over the acid washed buildings. When I could inhale without fear of losing a lung, I hauled my body upwards, heading slowly back in the direction of the dorms, drenched in sweat, my legs shaking like a jello shot.

  I couldn’t keep the thought of Celeste from creeping into my mind. Even in another country and time zone, she managed to sneak into the forefront of my brain with her ridiculous smile and those bright green eyes. She’d texted me. Out of the blue, asking about my life. It made me wonder. Were things with Ramirez going tits up? Did they see each other again after such a long time and she realized how mind bogglingly boring he was? Maybe he sucked in bed.

  I smirked. I hoped he sucked in bed.

  I couldn’t distinguish between the feeling of wanting to cut her out and wanting to know more details about her life, but after failing to respond for several minutes, I gave in, wanting to see how far I could push her into flirting with me.

  I glanced at the clock, it was midnight now in Switzerland, and I re-read her last text.

  Celeste: You know that’s a sport, right? Where they throw things and run into each other?

  Me: Turns out I’m really good at both of those things. Just call me Tom Brady.

  I set my phone on the desk and grabbed my clothes for the day from my tiny closet, ready to head to the communal bathroom when my phone buzzed loudly on the wooden surface.

  I picked it up, confused, and then suddenly more wired than a toddler on espresso.

  Celeste: Please send me a picture of you in tights. For my scrapbook.

  I snorted through a laugh but sobered quickly. The likelihood that Eli fucking Ramirez was lying in bed next to her was too high for me to effectively scratch from my mind. I could think of fifty different comebacks, none of which were friendly or kind. But we were communicating for the first time in months.

  Me: You sure you want the tights in the picture?

  I watched as three little dots appeared on my screen.

  Celeste: You’re right, I’d like to see the whole uniform. Especially the helmet that covers your enormous head.

  I smirked. She sounded too normal. Pain briefly rippled through my stomach. Fucking Ramirez probably had something to do with it, what with her constant warring against reality. I hated him, but if he was keeping Celeste on track with her meds and school, he deserved to have her.

  Kind of.

  Me: Just the helmet, Celeste? You miss me that much? Boyfriend not living up to your expectations?

  That last part was a little mean and I nearly regretted sending it.

  Celeste: Don’t you have some college girls to harass?

  None of them could live up to you.

  I sighed.

  Me: You’re right, I’ll return to my harem. Let me know if you’d like to join. I know a brunette we could share.

  The three dots appeared, then quickly disappeared, and I knew she was done. Hopefully sleeping and not fucking around with Ramirez.

  My first class was the one I shared with the brown eyed blonde. Today I was hoping she’d sit next to me, and I had no intention of racing out of the room like I had on Wednesday. I was a new man, a fucking football player at an Ivy League school, and I was ready to talk to a goddamn girl. To my luck, she sat next to me, obvious hesitance in her decision. I introduced myself the minute her small butt hit the seat. “Hi, I’m Maverick.”

  She held out her hand to me, a smile revealing two rows of white teeth. “Mia,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you, Mia.”

  “You too, Maverick.”

  “Would you like to get coffee with me after class?”

  Her brown eyes widened in surprise and she stuttered out a response, “Oh, um…sure.”

  I gave her my broadest smile, “Great. Would you happen to know where we could get coffee at?”

  Her small face erupted into a grin, the sides of her eyes wrinkling, “Yeah, the school cafeteria.”

  I chuckled and turned to face the front of the classroom, “The cafeteria it is, Mia.”

  She giggled and lifted up the top of her laptop. I could tell she was nervous, and I knew I was on my way to having a great fucking freshman year.

  Chapter 15

  Celeste

  Eli avoided me for a few days after our apparent disagreement. We had two classes together, but he refused to acknowledge my existence during either and especially during lunch, choosing to talk to his friends and even the professor instead. I shrugged it off. His behavior was strange, but my only romantic experience had been with Maverick so my frame of reference for how real relationships were meant to work was more than a little flawed.

  Mandy approached me during lunch the first day of school, setting her tray across from mine at the otherwise empty table. “So can we talk about why you and Eli are suddenly no longer an item?”

  I shrugged, “He’s mad because I haven’t told my dad we’re dating.” I took a bite of the sandwich on my tray, glancing over at the table of soccer players.

  She gaped at me, brown eyes wild with disbelief, “Celeste!” She exclaimed, “Eli is so big into family, I’m not surprised he’s mad!”

  I swallowed, “Does it really ma
tter that much?”

  “Uh, yeah. You’re basically hiding him.”

  “I’m not hiding him. My dad doesn’t care about my life, Mandy.”

  “Did he feel that way about Maverick Lockwood?” She asked, her look pointed.

  I hesitated, not entirely sure where that question was leading, “We were never in a relationship.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes, “Come on, everyone knows you were.”

  I looked down at my sandwich, wanting to change the subject, “I’ve tried apologizing, but he won’t talk to me.”

  “He probably needs a couple of days to cool off. He seemed really pissed in class this morning.” She shoved her tray of food away and sat back in her chair, arms crossed, “Ugh, I am just so not hungry. I wish they had more options at this school than just carbs.”

  I decided not to mention the personal team of chefs the school hired to provide nutritious meals and looked down at my own sandwich. She was right, there were only carbs on my tray. I swallowed my last bite and resolved not to eat anymore, I was hardly hungry anyway. “Should I try to apologize again?”

  Mandy brushed her long brown hair behind her shoulder, “What did you and Maverick do when you got into a fight?”

  I couldn’t understand why Mandy kept bringing him up but thought back over the course of our time together. When we argued, it was usually over my health or safety, somehow attributing to my reckless behavior. “We had sex,” I answered simply. I could remember it so clearly right then. Mav telling me very sternly, blue eyes darkened, and mouth set in a hard line, that I needed to do more research on the pills I was swallowing. And I would laugh and wrap my arms around his neck and stick my hands down the front of his pants, and then he’d scowl but he’d shut up for a little while. I blinked the memory away, a strange ache in the pit of my stomach.

  Mandy was laughing, a little too loudly, her head moving in a circle to see who was listening. I glanced around, confused. “Oh my god, Celeste. You’re kind of a slut.” She said it so happily that I joined her laughter.

  My eyes wandered over to Eli’s table. He was watching us, a hooded expression on his narrow features.