Authors: Lisa de Jong
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary
I’m not that fucking noble.
It turned out to be one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time because there isn’t any pressure with her. We don’t always get along, but she’s honest and doesn’t want me for my name. Things are just comfortable.
Rolling her eyes, she says, “I hardly consider that a date.”
I laugh. “What would you consider it then?”
“An unfortunate circumstance. Life is full of those.” The vision of Olivia walking up to me in the bar last night flashes through my mind. I feel like I can never escape her, and that’s unfortunate. What was even more unfortunate was the look on Emery’s face when I caught her staring at Olivia and me. I wanted to tell her she had it all wrong, but I have no reason to explain anything to her.
“Did an unfortunate circumstance lead to you beating up your car? It must have done something pretty fucking bad,” I say, running my fingers along the dashboard.
“My car wouldn’t start. I haven’t moved it since I got to school, and I think it forgot how to work.”
I can’t suppress the half-smile that forms on my lips, but I know it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I definitely feel off balance today. I need to get back out there and run.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
The smile quickly crumbles as I look away from her. “I’m just tired of all this rain. It seems like there are very few sunny days.” The words are metaphoric … so much meaning behind them.
“It’s still better than snow.”
“Maybe,” I say, looking over at her again. “Do you want me to take a look at your car?”
“You fix cars?”
“Yes, I can throw the football and fix cars. Well, not everything, but if it’s something simple I can.”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I really didn’t want to have to call my dad,” she answers as the drops fall harder against the windshield.
“It’s no problem.” I smile, more genuine this time.
“Thank you.” She stops, smiling back at me. “However, there’s not much you can do about my car right now … I mean with this rain. Do you want to look at it later?”
“Do you have to be somewhere?”
“No, I was just going to run a few errands.”
I nod, leaning over to look up at the gray sky. “I think it’s supposed to clear up this afternoon. Do you want to work on our project, and then maybe later, I can come out and take a look at this bad boy again? I could use a distraction.”
Taking my mind off things might help. I can’t just sit and sulk all day long.
“Do you want to meet me in the library?” she stops, surveying my drenched clothes. “Maybe in one hour?”
“This will be the first time I’ve been there since I’ve gone to this school.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“One hour then,” I say, opening my door.
Jogging back to my dorm, I think about her. I find myself doing that more and more lately. It’s not necessarily a good thing because I should be thinking about football and family. I owe it to him.
An hour later, I’m walking into the place unknown: the library. It looks exactly how I thought it would, which doesn’t do anything to raise my excitement level. There are several tables full of students, all working quietly, and then a few other students sitting in front of their computers in a row of cubicles. Standing in here for more than five seconds feels like a punishment for me, like I’ve been placed in a world where I shouldn’t exist.
Before anyone can question my presence, I walk around looking for Emery, but it’s not easy to find her in the sea of bookshelves. The voice in my head that is always leading me to the dark side is telling me that if I don’t find her in the first few minutes, I should leave. Cut my losses because it’s not like I didn’t try.
I feel marginally better than I did when I saw her earlier this morning. I ran for another thirty minutes after I left her at her car, but I have a feeling another run might be needed before the day is over.
I spot her hidden in the corner, surrounded by windows. Leave it to her to find the quietest, most desolate place in the library for us to meet. She looks casual with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, dressed in a worn Southern Iowa sweatshirt. She’s definitely low maintenance, but it fits her. That day when she ran into me, her big brown eyes were the first things I noticed. They’re always the first things I want to see.
“I made it,” I say, throwing my bag onto the floor. Those eyes that always pull me in are on me now.
“Are you expecting a band to come in and play a celebratory song?” she teases, tapping her eraser against the wooden table.
“A smile would be nice.”
Just like that, the corners of her lips turn up. She comes off as so tough, but yet I seem to find ways to loosen her up. “Happy now?”
“As much as I can be in this place.” Some of the familiar heaviness weighs on my chest again. I try not to think of happiness … it’s a pipe dream for me.
“What’s your story, Drake Chambers?” she asks, twirling her pencil between her fingers. I swear she’s seeing right into me; I just hope I’m not that fucking transparent.
I shrug. “Maybe I don’t have one.”
“Everyone has one.”
“Not everyone has one they want to share,” I say, looking down at the wood table. Really, no one knows my story, and Emery isn’t going to get her name on an exclusive list.
She nods, staring off into the rows of bookshelves.
“Do you still need me to fix your car?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
“Do you still want to fix my car?”
“Of course. I’ll take a look at it after we leave here.”
“So are you ready to get started on this? I kind of know what I want to do, but I need to do some research.”
I rest my elbows on the table, leaning in as close as I can. “You got to go first last time. I think we should start with your football lesson.”
“Funny, Chambers. Don’t forget we’re in the library.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll flip your lessons around. We’ll work on tackling another day,” I say, watching her eyes go wide. I fucking love how simple words affect her. She reminds me a lot of the good girls from my high school. They were always the most fun to tease.
“Okay, I’ll play. What do you want to teach me?”
“The difference between offense and defense.” I pause, watching her expression shift to that of someone who’s in the second hour of a long presidential address. I’m going to get a rise out of her no matter how hard I have to try. “I’m the quarterback, so I’m in charge of leading the offense down the field. Our job is to get down to the end zone as often as possible. The defense’s job is to make sure the other team doesn’t score. The offense has to score more than their defense lets the opposing team.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
I shrug, leaning in closer. “It’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. If someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be, or if one guy isn’t playing like he should, we lose. Consider it a bigger scale team project.”
She tilts her head, seemingly hanging on my every word. As a smirk forms on her face, her eyes seem to brighten. “So am I on offense or defense?”
“I always have the ball, Emery. Always.”
She shifts her eyes to the window, doing her best to avoid me. It’s the truth. I always have to be in control. If I’m not, all I feel is chaos inside, and I can’t even think. I get the feeling that Emery is the same way so it will be a miracle if we get out of this able to stand each other.
“Well, let’s see if we can work on your passing skills. How is your portion of the project coming along?” she asks, focusing her eyes back to me.
“I just need to pull some facts from the web, and I’ll be all set,” I say, eyeing her carefully.
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but do you really think that’s enough?”
“I guess we’ll just have to see who can be more convincing,” I say, twirling my pen between my fingers.
“You’re on. I’m going to get a book so I can get started,” she announces, rising from the table.
After I watch her disappear into the rows of books, I pull my laptop from my bag and make a few notes. This assignment isn’t going to be easy, but I have a feeling we’re going to pull it off just fine.
That’s what teams do.
To an extent, Emery has a point about nature, but for me, I think that’s only good as long as someone is nurturing it. If my dad were still around guiding me, I’d probably be a whole lot like him. Maybe I’m a little bit like him now, but it’s hard to say because some days, it’s hard to remember what he was like. I remember football, and the last day we spent together, but no matter how hard I try, anything beyond that is difficult. It would have been helpful if my mom could have at least talked to me about him, but she rarely says his name at all.
When Emery isn’t back a few minutes later, I go looking for her, weaving in and out of bookshelves. I’m not a fan of libraries, and she’s the only thing that makes it halfway tolerable to be here. I actually look forward to seeing her in class these days; last night and today was just an added bonus. I’ll never tell her this, but she’s making today the best worst day of the year just by spending some of her time with me. It’s kept my mind off things at least temporarily.
I finally spot her when I round the corner to the history section, literally running into her. She startles, covering her chest with her hand.
“Hey,” I say, gripping her upper arms to hold her steady. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her dark brown eyes look up, and something shifts inside of me. Maybe it’s the way the front of our bodies touch, or the way her sweet smell invades my senses. Something has been pulling me toward her the last couple times I’ve seen her, and being like this makes it hard to ignore.
“It’s okay. I should probably stop running into you like this.” Her heart is beating against my chest, heightening all the feelings I’ve been trying to bury.
The longer we stay locked in a staring contest, the more I realize this moment was inevitable. I haven’t been honest with myself because it’s always been easier for me to live in my make-believe world. Drake’s world.
I hate these emotions, but yet there’s something that feels so damn good about having her this close to me. My heart is begging me to take a chance with the one person who hasn’t asked me for anything. The one person who’s taken my shit and thrown it right back at me.
Before I even realize what’s happening, my lips inch closer to hers. I don’t have any control. Or maybe I don’t want to have it anymore, because I’m passing the ball to her. My hands slide up her arms, cupping her cheeks, but my eyes never leave hers. I’m waiting for her to stop me. We’ve gone ten rounds since I’ve met her, and I never thought it would lead to this.
This isn’t supposed to happen, I think to myself as I feel her warm breath against my skin. So close. “Emery,” I whisper, my voice desperate.
“Drake,” she says quietly, pulling some of the fabric from my t-shirt between her fingers. She has no idea what her touch is doing to me. No fucking idea.
“Can I help you two find anything?”
Shit
.
I pinch my eyes closed to regain some of my composure. “No, I was just getting ready to leave.”
Dropping my hands, I glare at the librarian, silently begging her to walk away.
“That sounds like a good idea,” she says, glancing back and forth between Emery and me before disappearing around the corner again.
This suddenly doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t be doing this with Emery … she deserves so much better. I know I’m not the guy for her, and I never will be.
The fate of interruption proved it.
Neither of us should be here doing this.
Finally, I step back and give Emery her space, the awkwardness leaving it almost impossible to even look in her eyes. “I need to go. Let me know if you need anything else from me to finish the presentation.”
I take two steps back, watching confusion cloud her features. “What? We haven’t even started.”
“I’m sorry. I have to go,” I say, turning to walk away. I can’t look back because I’m not a strong enough man to face the consequences of my actions. She’s not the first girl I’ve let down, but she’s the first girl who’s made me feel guilty about it.