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“We don’t want that,” I said drily.
He flashed a brief grin and then it disappeared. Our gazes met and held. “I don’t want to do it, Lena,” he whispered this to me, a secret he couldn’t speak loudly. “I don’t want to spend another four years doing this.”
My breath caught. “You know you don’t have to, right? You don’t have to go to college and play ball. There’s still time to get other scholarships. A ton of time. You can do anything. Seriously.”
He laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor to it. “If I decided not to play ball, my father would stroke out.”
I squirmed closer so our faces were inches apart. “Your dad will be fine. Do you still want to study recreational science?”
“I do, but not for the reasons Dad thinks.” He bit down on his lower lip, slowly letting it pop out. “He has this plan for me. I’d play college ball, then be drafted—second pick. Not first. He’s realistic.” His grin was wry as his gaze slid to mine. “I’ll play a couple of years and then move on to coaching or working with the teams, putting to use the recreational science degree.”
The all-American dream right there. “And what is your plan?”
His eyes were wide, the blue startling and vibrant. “Do you know how much you can do in recreational science? I could work in hospitals, with vets or even in psychology. It’s not all about sports injuries. I want to actually help someone. I know this sounds stupid and cliché.”
“It’s not stupid or cliché,” I insisted. “Not at all.”
A half smile formed. After a moment, some of the light faded from his eyes and he said, “I don’t know. He would flip out. It would be like the end of the world.”
I had no doubt in my mind that Sebastian was correct in that assumption. “But he’d get over it. He has to.”
His lashes lowered. “He’d probably disown me.”
“I don’t know if he’d go that far.” My gaze flickered over his face. “It’s your life. Not his. Why would you do something that you weren’t really into?”
“Yeah.” A brief smile appeared and then he shifted back so he was facing me. “You still hoping for UVA?”
Clearly he was officially done with the conversation. “Yeah.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“It’s kind of random.”
I grinned. “You’re always random.”
He nodded in agreement. “Why did you and Andre break up?”
Blinking, I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. I started to respond but laughed.
He nudged my leg through the blanket with his. “Told you it was out there.”
“Yeah. Um...I don’t know.” Holy crap, wasn’t like I could tell him the truth. It didn’t work out because I was in love with you. That wouldn’t go over well.
Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it. When I peeked at him, his lips were pressed in a hard line. “He didn’t do something, did he? Like mess around on you or hurt—”
“No. Oh my God, no. Andre was practically perfect.” My eyes widened as what he said really sank in. “Wait. Did you think he did something?”
“Not a hundred percent. If I had, he wouldn’t be walking right now.” I raised an eyebrow. “I just never knew why you guys broke up. One second you two were together and then you...you just weren’t.”
I let the blanket slip down my shoulders. “I just wasn’t into him the way I should’ve been, and it made me...uncomfortable.”
His chest rose with a deep breath. “Know the feeling.”
My gaze shot to his. He was staring at my ceiling. “You know I’m going to ask this... Why did Skylar break up with you? You’ve never told me.”
“You’ve never really asked.” His eyes shifted back to me. “Actually, come to think of it, you never really asked about anything that has to do with Skylar.”
My mouth opened, but I didn’t say anything, because, come to think of it, he was right. I didn’t ask about Skylar, because I just didn’t want to know. Supporting him hadn’t meant I needed to know all about their relationship.
“I...I figured it wasn’t any of my business,” I answered lamely.
His brows pinched together as his lips turned down at the corners. “I didn’t know there was anything between us that wouldn’t be each other’s business at this point.”
Well...
“Skylar broke up with me because she felt like I wasn’t giving the relationship my all. She thought I cared more about ball and my friends than her.”
“Well, that’s kind of lame.”
“Kind of the same reason why you broke up with Andre, right? You weren’t into him. Probably weren’t giving it your all.”
I pursed my lips. “Whatever. We’re in high school. Exactly how much work do we have to put into relationships?”
“Don’t think you should ever have to ‘put in work’ in a relationship,” he replied. “I think it should come naturally.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Aren’t you so deep with all your worldly experience,” I teased.
“I am experienced.”
Rolling my eyes, I kicked his leg from under the cover. “Was it true? That you cared more about your friends and football than her?”
“Partly true,” he answered after a moment. “Well, you know the football part wasn’t.”
Mulling it over, I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Since I was one of his friends, was he saying he cared about me more? A second later, I realized that was a stupid thing to question and I sort of wanted to punch myself.
“I’m going to stay here for a little while,” he murmured, lifting his hand. He caught a strand of hair that had fallen across my cheek. As he tucked it back behind my ear, his fingers dragged over my skin and my breath hitched in my throat. A wave of shivers skated across my skin as he drew his hand back. “You okay with that?”
“Yes,” I whispered, knowing he hadn’t seen my reaction. He never did.
Resting his hand between us, he shifted closer, and I felt his knee press against mine. “Lena?”
“What?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
The corners of his lips picked up. “For just being here, right now.”
Closing my eyes against a sudden rush of tears, I spoke the truest thing I could’ve. “Where else would I be?”
* * *
“So my mom made me write down this list of the top ten things I want to do with my life, since she thinks it’s completely ridiculous that I’m about to enter my senior year and I don’t know what I want to do yet,” Megan said, nursing her third glass of sweet tea as she rooted around in a basket of fries. “Which is hilarious considering my mom is like the official hot-mess express, ticket for one.”
“Does she not realize you don’t have to declare a major right off the bat?” Abbi was sketching what appeared to be a rose garden on her napkin. “Or you could change it later on?”
“You’d think she’d know that, being an ‘adult,’” Megan said, curling her fingers in air quotations. “You’d also think she’d cool it, since I ended junior year a half a point away from a 4.0. I’ll do fine no matter what I choose to study in college.”
From behind the counter at Joanna’s, I grinned as I folded my arms and leaned against the countertop. Luckily, the diner was virtually dead, since it was Saturday night. There were only two tables set, and both parties had already handled their checks. Bobby was somewhere out back smoking half a pack of cigarettes, and I had no idea where Felicia, the other waitress, was. “So did you make a list?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I did.”
Abbi snuck a fry. “Can’t wait to hear this.”
“It was the best list ever.” She popped a fry in her mouth and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I listed amazing careers such as hooking, stripping, dealing drugs...and not the small stuff. I’m thinking heroin. Oh, by the way, I heard Tracey Sims is on the brown sugar.”
“Okay.” Abbi twisted on the stool, angling her body toward Megan’s. “I don’t know if you’re talking about heroin or the actual sugar.”
“Heroin. You’ve never heard it called that?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t, but where did you hear that?”
“You know how my cousin used to date her?” She picked up two fries and made a cross out of them. “He told me she’s using. That’s why they broke up.”
Abbi frowned. “Are you serious?”
I pushed away from the counter. “God, I hope not.”
Megan nodded. “I’m serious.”
“That’s so...so sad,” I murmured, glancing up as the door opened. I almost couldn’t believe what I saw. It was Cody Reece and crew, including Phillip, glued to the phone in his hand. Why were they here? None of them usually hung out in Joanna’s unless they were with Sebastian.
“It is. I mean, that’s some hard-core stuff right there,” Megan continued, smacking her fry cross off the edge of the basket. Sprinkles of salt hit the counter. “Just can’t even imagine actually taking a needle and injecting something into me. And if it’s going to cause me to pick at my face, so not volunteering as tribute.”
“I hope it’s not true. Tracey is nice.” Abbi’s eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder, just as Phillip spotted Megan.
He raised his finger to his mouth as he crept forward, looking ridiculous as he walked on the tips of his sneakers, which made him about six foot twelve or so. With his dark brown skin and a flirtatious grin that had gotten him in trouble more than a time or two with Megan, he was just as crazy-smart as she was. Grinning, he stopped right behind Megan.
“Come to think of it, there are a lot of things I wouldn’t volunteer for,” Megan continued, dropping the fry cross into the basket. “There are a lot of things I don’t—” She squealed as Phillip circled his arms around her.
“Hey, babe.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Miss—”
“What are you doing here?” Megan asked the question of the century as she elbowed him hard enough that he grunted. “Seriously? Are you stalking me or something?”
“Maybe.” He let go, leaning against the counter as he grinned at us. “Hey, if you don’t want me stalking you, don’t check into every place you visit.”
I snorted.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you right now. Do you remember that?”
Dark skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You didn’t have a problem talking to me last night.”
“That’s because I was bored.” Looking up at me, she brushed her thick braid over her shoulder. “Can’t you make him leave?”
“No.” I laughed.
Abbi helped herself to another fry as she leaned forward. “What does your shirt say?” She squinted. “‘Ain’t no party like a George Washington party, because a George Washington party don’t stop...until the colonies are free and the world recognizes them as a sovereign nation’—oh, what the hell?” Laughing, she shook her head. “Where did you find that shirt?”
“Found it on the street, by a Dumpster.”
I rolled my eyes as the other guys took the booth in the back. “What do you want to drink?”
“Grey Goose.”
“Ha ha,” I replied drily. “What age-appropriate drink do you want?”
“Coke is fine.” Phillip smacked his hand on the counter as he changed focus. “Megan, my love...”
Shooting Abbi a look, I pivoted around and grabbed him his drink from the soda station. Then I picked up the pitcher of ice water and made my way over to the table.
I hadn’t seen Cody since the night at Keith’s party. Heat was already creeping steadily into my cheeks, but I squared my shoulders. “Hey, guys.”
Cody looked up first. The other two guys had their heads bowed, watching something on their phones.
“Hey,” he said.
Plastering a smile on my face, I ordered myself to not think about that party. I had to admit that Cody was definitely good-looking, which led to my bad life choices that night. He had a head full of wavy blond hair and an easy smile that he broke out frequently, complete with perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth and a cleft chin. He looked like he belonged on the beaches of California, hauling a surfboard behind him, instead of in Nowhere, Virginia.
And Cody knew he was good-looking. That knowledge was etched into that smile he gave so freely. “So what are you guys doing here?” I asked as I poured their water.
“Is that a question you ask all your customers?” Cody threw his arm along the back of the booth.
“Yes. Always.” Ice clinked off the glasses. “My version of great customer service.”
“We’re bored. Plus Phillip saw that Megan was here.” Cody swiped the glass of water. “Wanted to see her.”
I glanced over at the counter, where Phillip looked like he was serenading Abbi and Megan.
“And I wanted to see you.”
My head swung back around and I raised a brow. “Are you high?”
“Not at the moment.” He winked. “Why is that hard to believe? I like you, Lena. And I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been around, working.” I stepped aside as Phillip joined them, scooting in beside Cody in the booth. I quickly took the others’ drink orders. “Do you guys need menus?”
“I do.” Cody gave me that smile, and my expression turned bland. “I like choices,” he added. “Lots of choices.”
Thinking that sounded like a really poor sexual innuendo, I shook my head and walked away. “Someone kill me now,” I said to the girls as I grabbed a stack of menus.
“Hey, don’t leave yet.” Megan twirled on the stool. “While you were busy adulting and I was busy ignoring Phillip, Keith texted Abbi and asked her out.”
“Oh, really?” I cradled the menus to my chest.
“To his party tonight,” Abbi clarified.
“He wants to get with you,” I reminded her, backing away.
Abbi rolled her eyes. “He can want whatever he wants, but that is never going to happen.”
“Famous last words,” muttered Megan, and then I heard her say, “We should go. I haven’t been to Keith’s in a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t know.” Abbi stared down at the napkin she’d been doodling on. “I have a feeling if I agree, you’re going to embarrass me.”
“Never,” gasped Megan.
“Well, you guys figure that out.” I turned away and brought the menus to the guys, placing one in front of each of them. Then I filled their drink orders and brought them over. “You guys know what you want yet?”
“I do.” Cody’s brown eyes twinkled as Phillip chuckled, and I prepared myself, knowing it had nothing to do with the menu. “What if I wanted a piece of you for dinner?”
I cocked my head to the side, not entirely surprised. Cody was... Well, he was just Cody. It was hard to take him seriously and he could be, as my mom would put it, crude as hell. “That had to be the absolute stupidest thing I’ve heard in the seventeen years of my life and I don’t even know what human being would be impressed by that statement.”
“Daaamn.” Phillip drew the word out, chuckling.
Cody leaned forward, completely unfazed. “I have better one-liners saved up. Want to hear them?”
“No. Not nearly buzzed enough for that.”
“Come on,” Cody insisted. “Trust me, it’s a true talent I have.”
“Well, you keep living the best life you can, and I’ll keep waiting for you to give me your orders.”
“Ouch.” He clasped his hand on his chest, falling back against the booth. “You wound me. Why so mean?”
“Because I just want to take your orders so I can go back to pretending to work when I’m really just reading,” I replied, smiling as sweetly as I could.
Cody laughed as he reached over, snatching the phone out of one of his friends’ hands. “Well, let’s not keep you from working too hard.”
The guys finally gave me their orders, and I walked back the short hall, past the restrooms and through the double doors into the kitchen. I found Bobby in the back, tugging a hair net on, smashing his man bun. I turned in the orders and then wheeled around, heading back to the counter.
“You guys need anything else?” I asked the girls as I picked up the empty fry basket.
Abbi shook her head. “Nah. I’m probably heading out of here soon.”
“Are you walking home?” Looking over her shoulder at the guys, Megan sighed as she eyed Phillip. “Why does he have to be so good-looking?”
“You have the attention span of a gnat. You ask me if I’m walking home and then immediately start talking about Phillip.” Abbi rested her head on the countertop. “Your ADD has ADHD. And yes, I was planning to walk home. I live, like, five blocks from here.”
Megan grinned as she faced her. “You do realize I actually have ADD, right?”
“I know.” Abbi raised her arms but kept her head down. “We all know that. You do not need to be a professional to know that.”
“Did I ever tell you about that time when my mom was convinced I was one of those indigo kids?” Megan picked up her braid and started fiddling with the ends. “She wanted to get my aura tested.”
Slowly, Abbi lifted her head and looked at her, her lips slightly parted. “What?”
Leaving them to that conversation, I took that basket to the kitchen and checked the guys’ orders. When I stepped back out into the hallway, I spotted Cody in the hallway leaning against the wall across from the restrooms.
My steps slowed. “What’s up?”
“You got a second?”
I eyed him warily. “Depends.”
After running a hand through his shaggy blond hair, he then dropped his arm. “Look, I actually did want to see you.”
“Uh, for what?” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight from one side to the next.
“I needed to talk to you about Sebastian.”
My brows lifted with surprise. “Why?”
“Sebastian and I are good friends, but I know you guys are closer. You’re like his sister or something.”
Sister? Seriously?
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.” He looked away. “Has Sebastian said anything about not wanting to play ball to you? Like I said, he and I are close, but he won’t talk to me about something like that.”
I stiffened for a fraction of a second and then folded my arms. There was no way in hell I was going to betray Sebastian’s confidence. Not even to his friend. “Why would you think that?”
He then tipped his head back against the wall. “He’s just... I don’t know.” Cody dropped his arm from his head. “He just doesn’t seem into it. Like he’d rather be anywhere but at practice. Couldn’t seem to care less about the upcoming season. When he’s on the field, he’s only half-there. He’s got talent, Lena. The kind of talent he doesn’t even have to work for. I’ve got this feeling he’s going to throw it all away.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I searched for something to say and finally settled on, “It’s only football.”
Cody stared at me like I’d grown a third hand out of the center of my forehead that then flipped him off. “Only football? You mean it’s only his future.”
“Well, that sounds a little dramatic.”
He raised a brow as he pushed off the wall. “Maybe I’m just imagining things,” he said after a moment.
“Sounds like it,” I replied. “Look, I’ve got to check on your order, so...”
Cody studied me a moment and then gave a little shake of his head. “So, you’re done doing the small-talk thing. Gotcha.”
Heat invaded my cheeks. Was I as transparent as a window?
“I’ll leave you be.” Shoving his hands into his jeans, he pivoted around and walked back to the front of the diner, leaving me standing there, staring after him.
I wiped my oddly damp palms along my apron as I exhaled roughly.
By the time I’d grabbed the food and delivered it to the guys’ table, Abbi and Megan were ready to leave.
“You guys heading out now?” I asked.
“Yep.” Abbi slung her bag over her shoulder. “Friends don’t let friends walk home by themselves. Especially if said friend is likely to take rides with strangers.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “So, I saw Cody come from the back. Were you talking to him?”
I nodded as I picked up the cleaning rag. “He wanted to talk about Sebastian.”
“Uh-huh,” Megan murmured. “You know what I was thinking?”
Abbi’s expression said it was anyone’s guess.
Megan raised both brows and lowered her voice. “I wonder what Sebastian would think if he ever found out his best girl friend totally made out with his best guy friend. Drama.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Drama llama, indeed. But I was hoping God liked me enough that I never had to cross that bridge.
The girls left and I turned my attention to the book I had stashed behind the counter, choosing not to dwell on what Megan said. If I did, I would probably break out into a cold sweat or something.
I’d made it about a page before I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket.
I took one glance at it and I was no longer thinking about Sebastian and football or Cody and secrets.
I saw who the text was from.
I didn’t read further.
I deleted it without reading.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mom was in the kitchen when I finally made my way downstairs after a shower, my hair still damp at the ends. She was at the dull blue counter, pouring coffee into her thermos. Her shoulder-length blond hair was impressively straight, thanks to a flatiron. The white blouse she wore didn’t have a single wrinkle in it.
“Morning, hon.” She turned, a faint smile curving up her lips. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep in.” I’d had one of those annoying mornings when I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and thought in detail about everything in the world. Every time I tried to go back to sleep, something else would pop up in my head, from catching the eye of a college scout to what Cody had said Saturday night. If Sebastian didn’t want it, was he really throwing it all away?
“You feeling okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, just some insomnia this morning. I have practice later, so figured I’d just get up.” I walked to the small pantry and opened the door, scanning the shelves. “Pop-Tarts?”
“Out of them. I’ll pick up some on my lunch break. It’s going to be a cereal day for you.”
I grabbed the box of generic corn flakes and went to the fridge. “I can grab some later.”
“I don’t want you doing that.” She eyed me over the rim of the thermos. “I don’t want you to use the money you make on Pop-Tarts. We have money for groceries, hon.”
She gave me a half grin. “Generic Pop-Tarts, though.”
“I know we have money for that, but if you don’t like them—”
“Because they’re literally one of the worst things you could put in your mouth,” she cut in and then paused, her gaze glancing to the ceiling. “Well, there are worse things.”
“Ew. Mom!” I moaned.
“Uh-huh.” Mom moved over to the table but didn’t sit.
She was quiet as I shoved a few spoonfuls of cereal in my mouth before looking up at her.
Mom was staring out the small window over the sink, but I knew she wasn’t seeing the backyard. Not that there was much to see. It was just grass and secondhand patio furniture we rarely used anymore.
When Dad had been here, they would sit out there late at night through the summer and straight up to Halloween, staying up and talking. There used to be a fire pit, but it had fallen apart a few years ago, and Mom had kept it another year before throwing it away.
She kept holding on, even long past the point things were rotten out and decayed.
Lori and I used to sit up on the balcony and eavesdrop, but I think they knew we listened, because they only ever talked about boring stuff. Work. Bills. Vacations planned but never taken. Renovations on the dull blue counters in the kitchen that never happened.
Looking back, though, I could pinpoint the month when things began to change. It had been August, and I was ten. It was when their conversations out on the patio had turned to hushed whispers that ended with Dad storming inside, slamming the screen door shut behind him, and then Mom chasing after him.
Mom was always chasing after Dad.