It felt like we were arguing more. Part of it was the time of year, I knew; football was taking up more of my time, and when I hung around so much with the team, I ended up wanting to go to parties. It wasn’t that I needed to drink or that I wanted to spend time in crowded houses, watching other people get wasted and fuck each other. But not going to the parties meant I was somehow less part of the team. I missed stuff that happened.
Quinn didn’t get that. She thought I was just making excuses to go, and that pissed me off, too. I didn’t have to make excuses. If I wanted to go, I would. And if I thought there was something I should do to make our team better, hell, I’d do that, too. We were going into my senior year, and what happened in my future—where I went to college, which would then determine whether or not I went pro—could be determined by what happened on the football field this coming fall. Coach had drilled that into me. I was a leader, and the team needed me as much as I needed the team.
And if Quinn didn’t understand that . . . well, I didn’t want to think about the second part of that sentence.
My mom was doing pretty well, but the stress of her illness was weighing on me, too. I hated the uncertainty of everything. I worried that when the day came for me to go pro, my mother might not be with us anymore. I wanted to spend extra time with her, but I was afraid to get too close. Terrified of losing her.
I was fucking sick of being scared of everything. The only time I stopped thinking about being afraid was when I was drunk. Or when I was on the football field.
We’d just finished practice on a gorgeous afternoon in early May, and I was heading into the locker room with the rest of the team. We were messing around as usual, giving each other shit, and I was laughing with Matt when Brent punched me on the shoulder.
“Dude, you got a minute?”
I frowned. Brent sounded serious, which was unusual enough to make me nervous. Nodding, I stepped over to the railing that divided the field from the stands. “Sure, Collins. What’s up?”
Brent shuffled his feet in the loose dirt. “Ah, maybe nothing. But um, I saw that stuff Quinn’s writing in the newspaper. About bullying, you know?”
I nodded. “Yeah. What about it?”
“I was just checking—she’s not going to write about me, is she? About Tim and Karl and me, and what happened with the gi—I mean, with Nate last year?”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “No, of course not, Brent. Why would you even be worried?”
He lifted one massive shoulder. “Don’t know, but I just got to thinking. About college next year and shit. If something like that was on my record, I could kiss my shot at a decent school goodbye. I can’t take that chance.”
“Okay, well, problem solved. I told you she’s not going to include that.”
“But maybe you should talk to her. Just make sure. I mean, Quinn’s cool and all, but I’m not sure how much she loves the football team, you know? Will you talk to her for me?”
Great. This was going to be a big fucking deal, I knew. But to Brent I only said, “Yeah, I’ll mention it. But don’t worry, okay? Not going to be an issue.”
“Aw, thanks, Taylor. I appreciate it.” Brent whacked me on the back and went whistling into the locker room, clearly feeling much better. Me, on the other hand? Not so much.
After I’d showered and changed, I texted Quinn to meet me at my car. I didn’t feel like making nice at the newspaper office right now, and I was tired, too. I leaned against my car, my eyes closed.
“Boo.” Laughing, Quinn circled her arms around my waist. “Are you asleep on your feet out here, you poor thing?”
“Pretty much.” I opened her door and then got behind the wheel on my side and backed out of the lot. “Hey, Mia. Need to ask you something.”
“Hmmm?” She turned to look at me, smiling.
“That bullying series you’re doing in the paper. You’re not going to talk about what happened with the guys last fall, are you?”
I could practically feel her good mood evaporating. “Why do you ask?”
I exhaled loudly. “Brent asked me today. He’s afraid of what would happen to him if it came out. I mean, if the administration found out. It could fuck up his future.”
“Oh, really?” I’d come to dread that tone of Quinn’s voice. “Maybe Brent should’ve thought about that when he decided to physically assault another student. Maybe Brent should’ve stopped being such an asshole years ago. And maybe Brent should own up to his actions and stop being such a coward.”
“Whoa there.” I shot her a look. “I get that Brent made a mistake, but he’s sorry and he hasn’t bothered Nate since then. I happen to know he feels bad. So should one moment of poor judgment screw up the rest of his life?”
We pulled up in front of Quinn’s house. She unlatched her safety belt and turned toward me. “Leo, the truth is, I don’t have any intention of talking about Brent and what happened. But not because of what he wants—because Nate doesn’t want me to do it. Nate’s the victim here, so he’s the one whose opinion I respect. But what really pisses me off is that you’d ask me not to do this. That you’d take Brent’s side over mine. Did you ever once think about telling Brent that your girlfriend has the right to print what she wants? Did you think about me before you promised your football buddy that you’d take care of the matter?”
“Quinn, chill. It’s not that big a deal. I told Brent I’d ask you, I did, problem solved. Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”
She opened her door and climbed out of the car. “Fine. I won’t. And you can go back to Brent and tell him you protected his precious future.” She slammed the car door and dashed up the driveway, never even turning back to look at me.
I pulled away from her house, anger pulsing in my neck. But instead of going home, I took the turn that led to Matt’s house. We spent the rest of the evening with our good friend Jack, who helped us forget all our problems.
Quinn
Once upon a time, I’d thought that if Leo and I ever got together, if he ever admitted to loving me like I loved him, life would be perfect. We would never fight, and everything would be sunshine and roses. We’d live happily ever after.
The last two months had opened my eyes to the absolute absurdity of that way of thinking. Leo loved me, I didn’t doubt that. I loved him, more now than I had ever thought possible. Most of the time, he was sweet to me, funny and protective. Before spring football season began, I’d had no doubt that I was Leo’s top priority. But lately, I felt like I’d been slipping down that list, until I fell somewhere below football and his friends.
And today? Well, today I was furious. I’d already been a little worried about the bullying series, for the very reason Leo had listed. But it was actually going well so far, and our local newspaper had even picked up one of my articles, highlighting a problem in the schools that most people preferred to ignore. I was excited to tell Leo about it, but before I could say anything, he’d launched into me about Brent and how his future could be ruined if I wrote the wrong thing.
I hadn’t handled it well, I knew. But I’d been hurt when I felt that once again, Leo was choosing his teammate over me.
The house was empty when I went inside, and I remembered that my parents were at a planning meeting for their high school reunion that evening. I’d actually been looking forward to having precious time alone with Leo . . . and he’d ruined that when he brought up Brent. Just another reason for me to be upset.
I was too keyed up to stay home alone. I grabbed my car keys and drove back to the school, thinking that I might work on editing this week’s columns if Jake was still in the office.
The parking lot was nearly empty, and I didn’t see Jake’s car anywhere. With a heavy sigh, I pulled the keys out of my ignition and dropped my forehead onto the steering wheel.
A knock at the window startled me, and when I turned, I saw Sarah Jenkins standing there, waving at me. I rolled down my window.
“Hey, Quinn. You . .
. okay?” She frowned. “I just saw you pull in as I was coming out. I think the school’s empty now. And locked. I had a late meeting with the prom committee, and I was the last one out.”
“Oh. Sure.” I nodded. “I was hoping maybe Jake was still in the newspaper office. No big deal.” I began to roll up my window.
“Wait a second. Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t look like you are.”
One side of my mouth curled up. “Thanks.”
“No, you know what I mean. You just seem upset.”
I blew out a breath. “I am. But I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
She shook her head. “I don’t.” She took a step backward and then paused. “So you’re probably not interested in this, but . . . I’m meeting some of the other girls at the Starlight. Want to come with?”
I opened my mouth to say no, but then I thought . . . why not? I didn’t have anything better to do tonight. And if Leo could have fun with his friends, why couldn’t I? Sure, Sarah and I weren’t close, but I liked her. Maybe, if we got to know each other better, we’d find out we had more than just Leo in common.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”
***
As it turned out, the ‘other girls’ Sarah had mentioned were all cheerleaders. If they were surprised to see me with her when we walked into the diner, they didn’t show it. And after we’d spent an hour together, ordering food, chatting and giggling, I realized that I was really enjoying myself.
“Hey, you guys, want to come back to my house? My dad’s away tonight and my step-mother is going to an all-night yoga shut-in.” Alicia rolled her eyes. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“Sounds like fun.” Sarah glanced at me. “Quinn, you in?”
I hesitated. “Um . . . I’m not sure. I should probably head home.”
“Oh, come on.” Chelle leaned forward in the booth, smiling at me. “It’ll be fun. Just come for a little while, at least.”
“Yeah, just stay for like an hour.” Sarah grinned, too. “Everyone needs to blow off steam now and then, right?”
She made a good point. Leo hadn’t texted me or tried to call me, and that stung, too. I wanted to forget about our fight and everything else that was making me feel so unsettled.
“Okay, but just for an hour. Then I need to get home.”
“Yay!” Alicia clapped her hands. “You can follow me, Quinn. Everyone else, see you there.”
Alicia lived closer to the edge of town, not far from Matt Lampert’s house. Thinking about him didn’t improve my mood. He and I hadn’t exactly made up since our spat when I was trying to get Leo home, and I got the sense more and more that he was actively working against me, when it came to Leo.
I pulled my car into Alicia’s driveway and walked inside with her. The house was large and modern, the kind of place where I was afraid to touch anything. But that didn’t seem to bother Alicia. She led us into the kitchen, and we all took chairs around the large table.
The first half-hour was fun. I laughed along with the girls telling stories about cheerleader camp, and we all ate popcorn Chelle made on the stove. I was just thinking that I should start to make my exit when the back door opened, and Trish Dawson came in. I noticed she didn’t even knock, but no one else seemed bothered about that fact.
“Hey, bitches.” She seemed to notice me for the first time, and her mouth dropped open. “Well, well, look who’s joined the party, huh? What up, Quinn? Shouldn’t you be at, like, a rally or something? You know, whatever it is you geeks like to do?”
“Shut up, Trish.” Chelle rolled her eyes. “We invited Quinn. She’s fun.”
“Hmmm.” Trish sat down, a small smile playing around her mouth as she gazed at me.
“What’re you doing here, anyway?” Alicia leaned back in her chair, rocking it on two legs. “I thought you had better plans. Or that’s what you told me.”
Trish’s mouth twisted. “Those plans fell through. Probably thanks to Quinn, actually. I was supposed to hang out with Matt tonight, and I planned to make it a very special night. If you know what I mean.” She glanced around the table, her eyebrows arched, and I was pretty sure we all knew what she meant. “But then her little lapdog shows up, and Matt kicked me out. Said bros before hos and shit like that.”
Leo was at Matt’s? My heart sank. When he’d left me at home, I knew he was pissed, but I hadn’t thought he’d go running to his QB for comfort. Shit.
“Oh, Trish, calm down. You can fuck Lampert any other night of the week. Here.” Alicia pushed the popcorn bowl toward Trish. “Have some nourishment.”
“If I’m getting cheated out of a night of fun with Matt, I want more than popcorn.” She wriggled her fingers. “Break out the good stuff, A.”
Alicia giggled. “Okay, okay. Hold on.” She jumped up and went over to a large oak cabinet, opened the door and rooted around for a minute, emerging with a large bottle. “Voila.”
Trish unscrewed the lid and lifted the bottle. “Cheers, bitches.” She took a long swig, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and passed the bottle to me. “Here you go, Quinny Quin Quin. Bottoms up.”
I shook my head. “No, thanks.”
Trish tilted her head. “Oh, but I insist.” She leaned over, dropping her voice. “Did I mention that Leo was knocking back Jack pretty hard, even before I left?” She smirked. “I might’ve offered to let him take a shot off my tits.”
My stomach dropped. “He wouldn’t touch you, Trish. So you can just shut the hell up.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But I can tell you that he was pretty mad at you. Matt was telling him that he doesn’t need a chick like you in his life. And I could be wrong, but it seemed like your boy was sitting up and paying attention.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t trust anything Trish said. But this was sounding too close to what I’d feared might happen.
“Men are such scum.” Chelle tipped the bottle back over her mouth. “Fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all.”
Sarah reached to take a drink next. “Fuck ‘em.” She glanced at me and then held out the bottle. “Quinn?”
It wasn’t peer pressure. It wasn’t wanting to fit in. Tonight, it was all about the forgetting, making the hurt go away.
I accepted the bottle and drank deep.
Leo
I was still a little hung over the next morning when my alarm went off. I texted Quinn that I was going in late to school, so she wouldn’t be waiting for me to pick her up, but she never responded. I worried about that for about ten seconds before I went back to sleep.
By the time I woke up again, it was after lunch. It seemed pointless to drag my ass into school for two classes, so I stayed home, planning to play the sick mom card that had given me so much wiggle room this year. I’d learned that all I had to tell them in the office was that my mom was still in the hospital, and my absence or tardiness was excused. It was like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Not that I wouldn’t trade that for my mother being healthy again, of course, but I figured I needed any break I could catch just now.
I’d just gotten a shower and was actually getting ready to go see my mother when the doorbell rang. Quinn, I thought. She’d gotten my text and was worried about me. I grinned a little, thinking that maybe she’d calmed down enough that I could talk her into another round of makeup sex.
But when I opened the door, it was Nate who stood there, leaning on the frame. I stared at him, frowning. He nodded to me.
“Can I come in?”
“Uh, sure. Come on in. Everything okay?” I shut the door behind him and trailed him into the living room.
“Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure. Shoot.” I leaned against the side of the sofa, my hands in my back pockets.
Nate fixed me with a determined stare. “You remember back when you first starting going out with Quinn? I told you what was going to happen. I told you that you’d ruin her. You’d break her heart. And
now you have.”
I shook my head. “Nate, dude, what’re you talking about?”
“It’s been coming on for a while. I see her getting more and more unhappy. She doesn’t want to go to your stupid parties. She hates your friends. But she’s trying to change, to be better for you. She’s turning herself inside out. But what are you doing? Going out and getting drunk every weekend? Not calling her, so she’s worried and upset all the time? And then you tell her not to write an article in the newspaper. The one thing that’s hers. You’re making her choose between who she is and who you want her to be. And so you know what she did? She got drunk with cheerleaders last night.”
“What?” I heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. “What’re you talking about?”
“Last night, Quinn called Gia around midnight and asked her to come pick her up at some girl’s house. She was completely wasted. Gia was afraid Quinn’s parents would freak out if she came home drunk, so she texted from Quinn’s phone that she was spending the night with Gia.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Quinn missed school today. She told her mom that she thought she had food poisoning.” His lips thinned. “Does that sound like the Quinn we both know?”
I shook my head. “No. But she’s all right, isn’t she?”
“You mean, is she safe and not still puking? Yep. But nothing else about her is right anymore. This is the end, Leo. The last straw. You’re wrecking her.”
“No. She got drunk, okay? Kids do that all the time. Just because you don’t—”
“Quinn doesn’t. And you know, if she drank a little with you, had a beer, that’s one thing, but she’s drinking whiskey with girls like Trish Dawson—that’s totally different.”
“Trish Dawson?” I felt stupid, repeating everything he was saying, but it just didn’t compute. “Why Trish? How?”
“Maybe you should ask Quinn about that. But according to Gia, Quinn was upset about something you’d done, and Trish goaded her, and I guess one thing led to another.”
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 27