“Thanks.” I offer her a shallow smile.
“Well, I better go back there and check on Henry.” Tass points to the common.
I nod.
“He’s going to be really bummed, though,” she adds. “Hunter says Henry thinks you’re like some lucky charm. He hasn’t been playing well since you dumped him, and it’s really messed with his head.”
I want to laugh, but it’s too ridiculous even for that. Jocks and their silly superstitions. So irrational.
“I’m sure he’ll find some new inspiration,” I say, “like not washing his underwear or performing some lucky masturbatory ritual before every game.”
“Ewww…” Tassie laughs. “I hope not. But either way, I think he’s out of time. I heard from one of the Gammas that Henry didn’t play the last game because he’s only got one more chance. If he screws it up, he’ll be benched for the rest of the season, which means he’s not going pro when he graduates.”
I wonder if he didn’t play because of me—he didn’t have his lucky charm. I don’t really know how to feel about that other than kind of sad for him.
“That’s awful,” I mutter.
“Not as awful as his dad. Hunter says he’s just waiting for Henry to fuck up so Henry will be forced to work for him.”
Tass’s words strike a furious, outraged chord with me. Why does everyone insist on being such assholes? Henry has a right to live his life and be happy. It disgusts me that Henry’s father would push Henry to be someone he’s not.
I shake my head. “I just don’t get people. I really don’t. Just makes me want to throw in the towel and go back to tiny cars and balloon animals.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Never mind. You staying at Hunter’s tonight?” I ask to change the subject quickly.
“Yes. But he’s taking off tomorrow for a game in Ohio. He won’t be back until Saturday night. Wanna hang then?”
“Yes. I could use a quality movie and Hot Pocket night with you,” I say. It’s been weeks since we’ve had drama-free hang-out time together.
“Oh! Me too. But I hear they have a Star Trek Friday night marathon tomorrow on the second floor of the dorms.”
“Oh. Even better. I’ll wear my Spock ears.”
Tassie claps. “I’ll wear my Klingon forehead!”
Her words instantly make me think of Henry and the time I nearly peed myself laughing, trying to teach him Klingon. For the life of him, he couldn’t get a single word let alone the phrase “I like smooth foreheads” or “Hab QuchDu’ vIparHa’.” Henry, though, didn’t give up. “I can get this. I can learn to speak your sexy nerd language.” He’d laughed.
“Okay. So Star Trek marathon in the dorms it is.” Tassie gives me a hug I desperately need and then pulls away. “Chin up, Elle. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I don’t know. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like something big is missing from my life. I can’t help wondering if it’s Henry.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HENRY
This week has not been easy for me. It’s been hell, actually. Especially after yesterday’s mariachi mishap. But Elle’s very public rejection, confirmed by Tassie as being Elle’s final no, has made me stop and think. Hard.
Why am I really going through all this? The fact that I’m willing to endure this kind of humiliation for a woman has really put me into thinking mode. I would never let anyone chew me up and spit me out so many times.
Maybe it’s my drive to win. Maybe it’s more. I really don’t know. I just know that I’m done with the gimmicks and I need to see Elle and tell her…
I fucking don’t have a clue. The painful mess inside me is new territory, but if I don’t come clean and tell her what I think is happening, then I won’t just lose my dream. I’ll lose her, too, which is unacceptable and completely blows my mind. How can someone you hardly know mean so much?
Anyway, I’ve decided it doesn’t matter and that I need to make one last play—a Hail Mary—to try to save it all. Because Coach has made himself clear: I’ve been playing like shit, and I only get one more opportunity to prove myself. One. So while he let me skip the last game, he said I have to show him my stuff tomorrow against Ohio.
“Dude, you ready to hit the road?” Hunter says, standing in the doorway of my room on Friday night, his black Pirates duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“I have to finish an English paper. It’s already late, so if I don’t email it to my professor tonight, she’ll give me an F.” There is no way I can tell Hunter the real reason I’m taking the red-eye to Ohio. He’d shake his head at me and that’s something I can’t handle. Yeah, normally I don’t give a shit what anyone says about me, but I’m stressed to my limit. I’ve got to turn things around.
Hunter’s blue eyes twitch, and I wonder if he knows I’m bullshitting him.
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess doing your work on the plane can be a little distracting.”
Yep. He knows I’m lying. All the guys do work while we’re on the road. There’s no other way to keep up if you really intend to graduate, which not everyone does. Some squeak by while they hope they get drafted for the NFL. But the rest of us know that as much as we love the game, we all have a short shelf life. Maybe that’s why we all try so hard. This is our time, and once it’s over, it’s over. There are no do-overs, no catching the train once it’s left the station.
“It’s Shakespeare,” I lie. “I can’t wing it. Besides, I prefer the comfort of my family’s private jet over your commercial coach hell any day. Yanno, big muscles and all.” I flex a bicep and give my right gun a peck.
“You call those mini marshmallows big?”
“Sure. But you and your wimpy quarterbacking ass wouldn’t know anything about being big.” I crack a smile.
Hunter fake snarls. “You’re a dick.”
“Oh, that’s big, too. Wanna see?” I reach for the front of my black sweats.
“Already seen it. Wasn’t impressed,” he throws back. “See you and your tiny cock at warm-up in the morning.”
“Yep. Big, bright, and early.” I go back to my computer. A few minutes later, I hear the front door close, and I know the coast is clear. My roommates are meeting up with the team bus and heading for the airport. Meanwhile, I’ve got to prepare myself to do something I’ve never done before.
ELLE
“Ohmygod.” Gripping Tass’s arm, we make our way up the stairs after the Star Trek marathon, heading for our own floor in the dorms. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.” A lie. It was with Henry, but I don’t want to think about him anymore.
“I’m pretty sure half the guys there had huge stiffies when I walked into the room,” Tass says. “Who knew a bony forehead was such an aphrodisiac?”
Her Klingon costume—really a long dark wig with a forehead mask—had been a huge hit, although the guy sitting next to me kept rubbing my knee with his phaser. But he was a red shirt. No self-respecting sci-fi girl is into wimps who can’t even last ten seconds.
“I definitely think a few boxes of tissues will die in your honor tonight,” I say to Tass with a chuckle.
“Ewww…Elle!” Tass slaps my arm. “That’s gross.”
“But so true,” I throw back, noting that next time, I’m definitely wearing the Klingon wig.
We trek our way up the stairs, and I pull out my key to unlock the door, but the moment I go to insert it, the door pops open. I look up, and standing there is Henry. He’s wearing my favorite outfit on him—well, aside from naked.
I look him over in his snug black T-shirt and faded jeans. I love how they show off the contours of his bulky biceps, hard pecs, and tight waist.
I can’t lie. Even now, my attraction for him is hard to fight. But I must.
“Hey.” He flashes a smile. “Sorry to intrude, but the door was unlocked, and I didn’t want to wait outside.”
I lift a brow. “So you just invade my private space like a three-hundred-pound stalke
r?”
“I weight two eighty, and I’m a perfect gentleman.” His green eyes flash to the ceiling then come back to my face. “Okay, except for that time you asked me to bend you over and—”
“Henry…” I growl. “What are you doing here?”
He looks over my shoulder at Tass. “Mind giving us a few minutes?”
“Elle?” she says, making sure I want her to go.
“Sure. It’s fine. See you in ten because that’s all I’m giving him,” I say.
Tass makes a little wave. “See ya, Henry.”
“See ya, Tass,” he replies and then steps aside so I can enter, closing the door behind me.
I immediately go into defensive mode, crossing my arms. I’m not mad that he’s trying, I’m mad because he’s making this harder on me than it needs to be. We won’t work. I’m trying to do the right thing here.
“Okay, make it quick,” I say, “because I meant what I said. I don’t want to see you anymore, and you being here means that you don’t respect that or you think this is some sort of game. Oh, and yes, I know about your losing streak, and that you think I’m your talisman, which changes nothing. Except that I think you’re more ridiculous than ever.”
Henry’s large body goes all rigid, and I can see the veins pulsing in the side of his neck. He’s pissed.
“All right, Elle. I know you don’t want me here, but I won’t let you talk to me like that. So before you say one more bitchy little word, you might want to stop and just listen to what I have to say. If that’s even possible.”
Oh, oh, oh, there’s that bitchy word again. Who does this guy think he is? Well, too bad for him, I love a challenge. So bring it on, big guy. Because whatever he’s got to say, I will have something to say back. Never, ever go up against a smart woman. We. Will. Crussssh. You.
I circle my finger in the air, indicating that I have accepted his challenge to remain silent.
“Elle, these past few days, getting repeatedly rejected by you made me really stop and think. I mean, I’ve never tried so hard with a girl, and I had to ask myself why. Yes, I think you’re my talisman. But why? Why would a girl who has been in my life for such a short period of time affect me so much? Sure. You’re ridiculously smart and hot and you make me happy as hell when you let down your guard, which is really only about five percent of the time—not nearly enough. But when you do,” he takes his fist and slams it over his heart, “it’s like the fucking Fourth of July and a touchdown all rolled into one.”
I’m suddenly thrown back a step by his corny words. He’s trying to speak from his heart, and I can tell by his body language this is uncomfortable for him. It’s kind of sweet.
Don’t go all soft, Elle. This changes nothing, I say to myself as a reminder of why I should be pissed. He’s making this unnecessarily painful. He needs to stop trying to back me into a corner.
I’m just going to have to play hardball and decapitate his ego so he accepts the truth and stops this nonsense for both our sakes.
He continues, “But, Elle, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t figure it out. I don’t know what you did to make me like you so much, but I realized I do. I like you a lot. And somehow, I can’t move on from this,” he points to the floor between us, “spot in my life until we have it out, so let me lay it all on the line for you.” He draws a sharp breath and those green eyes are exploding with intensity. “You and me, we work. I don’t know why. I don’t even care why. But we do. So if you’d like to play your little games and pretend otherwise, be my guest.” He points to himself. “I know the truth. And I see through you. The only thing I don’t know is why you’re throwing this giant wall between us, and that’s why I’m here. My gut says you’re afraid to go for it. And that’s okay. I can wait. I can give you space to figure it all out. I can even just be your friend and hold your hand while you go through hell with your mother’s situation. I am willing to be patient while you get to a place where you’re ready for something serious. But what I can’t tolerate,” he shakes his big finger in my face, “is lies. So if you’re really serious, Elle, and you really truly want nothing to do with me, then you just say so. But if you feel what I feel, that we could take on the fucking world together, then all I’m asking is for you to show up at the airport at eleven o’clock and come to Ohio with me tonight. Because I think I need you. And I think you need me too. And that is why I haven’t been able to play football since we broke up.”
My eyes tear up and, to my utter shock, I have absolutely nothing to say. Nothing. There’s an avalanche of emotions crashing down inside me and they’re bottlenecking at my mouth.
“I-I-I…” My mouth sort of just flaps while Henry’s expression turns from serious to livid.
“Really? You’re just going to stand there with your mouth shut?” he growls.
Yep. Looks that way. Because I’m paralyzed with fear. Nobody has ever said something that sounds so precariously close to a declaration of love, making me feel all vulnerable and wanted. But his statement simply doesn’t make sense—I mean, why would anyone want me? I’m the girl who’s never fit in. I’m not even a girl. I’m just a ball of middle-aged cynicism in the body of a nineteen-year-old.
He’s…he’s young and strong and so full of potential. He has his entire life to learn how hard things are out in the world.
I want to speak with brutal honesty, but I am unable to fully decipher my emotions—resentment that he’s forcing me to feel things when I’ve reached my limit of feeling. Rage, because he has taken away the sliver of control I once had over my world. Sadness, because he’s offering me something I want so badly. Frustration, because I don’t know how to accept it. Regret, because I am simply not a stronger person.
He places his large hands on his waist and bobs his head towards his feet, blowing out a long whoosh of a breath. “Okay. Okay. Fine. I get it. But you’re making a mistake, Elle. I’m not just a party guy. I don’t just want to have fun. I’m ready for something more, and the proof is that yesterday I suddenly realized that something I used to think was everything doesn’t really work without you.”
Fuck. My heart cramps with angst.
Once again, I open my mouth, attempting to speak, but it doesn’t happen. Not the way I want it to.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter under a breath that threatens to become a sob.
“So am I, Elle. So am I.”
He heads for the door and reaches for the handle. “Oh, I left a gift in your closet. I thought it might be a good way for us to start off on a new foot and learn how to be together, but feel free to return it. The receipt’s in the box.”
He leaves, slamming the door behind him. I stand there staring at the space he occupied a few moments before.
I feel like chasing after him, but I don’t see the logic in “us” and I can’t trust my emotions. After all, right now they’re busy slobbering on themselves like a complete moron and poking their eyes with rubber forks.
“Elle?” Tassie’s head of brown curls pops through the door. “Everything okay?”
I nod.
“I just saw Henry punching holes in the hallway. What happened?” she asks.
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
She walks over and takes my hand. “Well, what did he say?”
“I think he said he’s in love with me, but not with those exact words.”
“Really?” she practically squeals and covers her mouth. “So what did you say?”
“The only thing I could. Basically, no.”
Her hands fall to her sides. “Really?”
I nod.
“And…how do you feel about that?” she asks.
“I feel like shit.” I feel like I just made the wrong choice.
“Meow! Meow.”
“Errr…what’s that?” Tassie asks.
I turn my head in the direction of the sound: the closet.
“Meowww.”
“Holy shit. Is that a cat?” Tassie goes over, and I watch as she slides out a cat carri
er. Inside is a gray and white kitten.
“Ohmygod! Baby kitty, come here, you!” Tassie grabs the tiny thing and holds it to her chest. There’s a card taped to the carrier, too, which Tass hands to me. “Think it’s for you.”
I take it and look inside.
It’s time to move forward. With me. And Mr. Nucleus II.
Love,
Henry
“Well?” Tass asks. “What does the card say?”
That I’ve got to find a suitcase, wash clothes, buy cat food, and wax. “It says I just made a huge mistake. Can you cat sit tomorrow?”
Tassie smiles. “Love to.”
CHAPTER NINE
HENRY
I know there is no point in playing today. My heart’s not in the game and everyone knows it.
Man, she turned me down? I snap to myself. After I opened up and told her things I hadn’t been ready to admit even to myself? And what kind of woman resists a guy who gives her a kitten? Because I’m sure she found it and she still didn’t show up to the airport last night.
She must be some sort of supernatural being. A demon maybe. It’s the only explanation for why I feel possessed by her.
I suit up and keep to myself. I’ve already decided to go out there and tell Coach I’ll sit on the bench. There are a hundred scouts at this game, including the one who’s made a preliminary offer to my agent. It was contingent upon my having a good season and not getting injured, of course. But I have to face facts—I never played the game in my head. I’ve always played with my heart. Maybe that’s why I was better than most. But I never dreamed that a nerdy little chick with a genius IQ and a sharp tongue could work her way in and upset my mojo. Not after I’d already endured a hell of a lot of bullshit from my parents, who tried every emotional trick in the book to get me to stop playing football.
I’m the last to leave the locker room, following behind a small army of Pirates in their black and red uniforms. I walk straight over to the coach, who’s talking to Hunter about a change in a play.