The Fake: A College Sports Romance (Smart Jocks #4)

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The Fake: A College Sports Romance (Smart Jocks #4) Page 21

by Rebecca Jenshak


  I need her to see the sincerity on my face. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold on forever, let her feel the apology in my touch. Because I am so fucking sorry and I know words won’t be enough.

  “Nope,” I say, a little too eagerly after Coach asks if I have anything else to add to Joel’s summary. “That it?”

  He chuckles as he shakes his head. “Hot date, Payne?”

  “Something like that,” I say as I jog backward a few steps and then turn and run the rest of the way to the locker room.

  I swap my shirt for one that isn’t soaked in sweat, but that’s all I make time for. If the bus isn’t here, it should be any minute.

  I jog to the other side of the building. As I get close to their locker room, a few of the volleyball girls are walking out but Chloe isn’t with them. But she’s here. The panic and relief wreaking havoc on my insides tells me she’s nearby.

  Shaw steps away from the wall and in front of me. I’d been so focused on finding Chloe I didn’t see him. “She’s in with the coach now.”

  “I gotta get in there.” I try to step past him, but he moves with me.

  “Negative.” Shaw knows a very short version of what’s going on since he came out of his room to see why I was freaking out and terrorizing the place when I was looking for the textbook. “Sydney and a couple others are in there with her. They’ll take care of her. Sydney might look sweet and innocent, but she’d throw herself overboard before letting someone she cares about go down.”

  “You don’t understand. I can—”

  “You can what?” He steps closer. “Say it’s yours? Take the fall?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And do you really think they’re going to believe her boyfriend put a textbook filled with drugs in her backpack and she had no idea about it?”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  Shaw raises both eyebrows waiting for an explanation.

  “It doesn’t matter if they believe me or not. I have to try.”

  “Alright, let’s say they do. What then? You’ll be out on your ass and I’d bet my left nut that Chloe will be too. Guilty by association… well, and possession.”

  I flex my jaw as I admit to myself that he might be right. But there has to be something I can do. Toss me out, fine. I’ll gladly take whatever punishment they want to throw at me if it means keeping her safe from my dumb mistakes.

  “Listen to me, man. You love her? You care about her?”

  I give him a hard look, but he doesn’t relent.

  “Fuck, of course I do.”

  “Then the best thing you can do for Chloe is to go home. You’ve already done enough damage.”

  31

  Nathan

  I jog up three flights of stairs to get to Chloe’s floor. An hour run did shit to clear my head. I can’t quit replaying Shaw’s words in my head. You’ve already done enough damage.

  He’s right. I’ve done damage. I’ve made mistakes. More than I can count. I’ve repeatedly hurt the people I care about. I can’t take any of it back, but I can apologize, come clean, and hope like hell it’s enough.

  Sydney opens the door wide and lets me in. Emily is on the couch and the TV is on. Chloe is nowhere in sight, but the door to her room is closed and light filters out from underneath.

  “How is she?” I ask. Stalling and maybe hoping for some reassurance.

  “Sad, mostly. I think,” Sydney says quietly.

  I nod. Nope, no reassurance there.

  I texted Chloe to let her know I was coming. I knew she wouldn’t respond, but I didn’t want to ambush her. I knock on her door once and then open it a crack. “Chloe?”

  She makes a sound that’s not quite a greeting and I step inside and close the door behind me. Her hair is wet and her face clean of makeup giving me a good look at her red and puffy eyes. She’s running a brush through her hair while sitting on the bed, unshed tears threatening to spill over.

  “Princess.” I rush to her and wrap my arms around her, pull her into me and breathe in the smell of her shampoo and just her — summertime even on the darkest and coldest day. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her shoulders shake and she cries into my t-shirt. Silent sobs that prove Shaw was right. The proof of my damage is in my arms.

  Eventually her tears quiet and she sniffles. “Why?”

  When I don’t answer, she pulls away and looks up at me. “I’ve been replaying it over and over and I still don’t understand.”

  “I’m so sorry.” It’s all I can manage. No idea where to start or what to say and knowing there’s likely not an explanation she’s going to like.

  She wipes under her eyes. “Are you using?”

  “No. Hell no.” I’d like to be offended she’d think that, but I can’t really blame her. I take a deep breath. “I worked for Frank, Chloe. For almost two years, I sold for him. It’s how I sent money back to my family. I was desperate and reckless. Coach caught me with drugs in my locker right before the school year started and I stopped. I haven’t dealt at all since you’ve known me, and I didn’t know Frank gave you the book until today when he texted me. I would never knowingly put you in a position like that.”

  “But you would put yourself in that position?”

  “Not anymore. I have too much to lose now. I screwed up. My life before you…” I shake my head. “I did a lot of dumb things that I can’t take back, but it’s not who I am anymore. Please tell me you know that I’m not that guy.”

  “Honestly.” She lifts both shoulders and lets them fall. “I don’t know anything right now.”

  “Yeah.” My voice sounds like I swallowed razor blades — my insides feel like it, too. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “I think I just need some time and space. We jumped into this so fast. What do we really know about each other?”

  “Everything that matters.”

  She tilts her head to the side and regards me seriously. “You know that’s not true.”

  “It is true, though. You might not know my past, but you know me. I’ve never been more myself than I am with you.”

  “Even when you were lying to my face?” Her words twist in my gut. She smiles sadly. “I know that you didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did, and you can’t take it back.”

  “What can I do?” Gabby asks from my doorway the next afternoon. I was up all night, but I’m not tired.

  “Take this away from me. It’s not helping.” I hold out the bottle of Jack without getting up. I’m flat on my back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I thought I could drink away the pain and then pass out and forget it ever happened. I was wrong or maybe I can, but I don’t want to. I need to figure out how to fix this.

  She takes the bottle from my outstretched hand, sets it on the floor, and then climbs onto the bed and lies beside me.

  “I screwed up, Gabs,” I say, choking up as I admit it both to her and myself. “I screwed up, and I don’t know how to undo it.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder and takes my hand.

  “I love her. I can’t lose her.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You didn’t see her face.” I turn my head and look Gabby in the eyes. “I’ve disappointed a lot of people in my life. My dad used to lecture me for hours when I’d get a bad grade or fight with my brother, my mom would send me to my room or ground me when I was in trouble, Coach yells out his disappointment, but Chloe she was calm, resigned even. You know who reacts like that? Someone who has given up on you.”

  “Then you have to believe in yourself enough for the both of you.” She stands and tugs on my hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going for a run.”

  “Now?”

  “Endorphins, Payne. I’ve got world domination and a wedding to plan and you need to figure out how to win back your girl.”

  32

  Chloe

  My mom calls me the next morning to let me know she and my dad are in town. Their
timing on a spontaneous visit couldn’t be worse. My mother sees through my bullshit like a dollar store shower curtain, and right now, I’m about as confused and emotional as I’ve ever been. Still, I haven’t seen them in months, so I shower and put on some makeup, prepared to go about my day with some sort of normalcy.

  That is until I get to communications class. I’m not sure if he’ll show up after how we ended things last night, but he does looking as handsome as ever and hesitantly takes the seat beside me.

  “Hi.” His voice washes over me like a rogue wave, slamming into me and pulling me under. He drops a brown paper bag from the café on the desk. I don’t even have to open it to know there’s a bran muffin inside.

  “Thanks.”

  He nods.

  Class starts and the first of the presentations are slated to start. A trio walks up to the front of the room and begins. They start in on their sales pitch for adult diapers, and I shudder and tune them out. Easy to do when Nathan pushes his notebook in front of me.

  I miss you is scribbled in his small messy penmanship. I want to run my fingers over the words and trace his letters. Instead I stare down at it and wonder how those words can possibly make me feel sadder. When I don’t move to write back, he adds another line. I’m sorry.

  I take my pen and write, I miss you, too.

  I miss him so much. One day without him and I feel emptier inside than I’ve ever been.

  After that, I keep my eyes glued to the presentation, horrifying as it is, and Nathan doesn’t try to get my attention again. We stand with the rest of the class when it’s over and shuffle up the stairs and outside.

  “Do you want to get together tonight and work on our presentation? Gotta make sure it’s not going to be as painful as that one was.” His voice is light, but I can see the uneasiness in his posture.

  “I don’t think we need to. We’re ready.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “Alright. Well, can I see you tonight anyway?”

  Falling back into a routine with Nathan would be easy, but it still hurts too much. “I can’t. I’ll text you later. Okay?”

  I start to walk away, and he calls after me. “Wait. I have something for you.”

  I turn to find his hand outstretched and a piece of folded paper with my name scribbled on top. “I know I screwed up and I know that I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to keep trying anyway.” He places it in my hand and leaves me standing on the sidewalk staring after him.

  When I get back to my dorm, I collapse on my bed and open the note. My heart flutters at the sight of the page nearly completely filled with his small, messy penmanship. There’s something intimate and special about a handwritten letter.

  Surfer Princess,

  Yesterday I was going to drown my sorrows in a fifth of Jack and do everything I could to forget about the mess I made. It’s what I did before I met you. Numb the pain and sting of failure until it felt trivial.

  Then you came along.

  The way you looked at me that first night made me believe I wasn’t really the guy I’d become. That the clusterfuck of my life was just crappy circumstances and plain bad luck. I lied to myself because what I really didn’t want to admit was that I was scared you wouldn’t like me if you knew the truth about who I was.

  I don’t know how things would be different if I had, but I hope that I’m not too late.

  When I was nine, I told our next-door neighbor that things were really bad at home and my parents were fighting a lot just so she’d feel sorry for me and let me come over and watch cable any time I wanted.

  In sixth grade, I walked into the girl’s bathroom. I told everyone it was a dare, but really, I just wanted to see what it looked like in there. I thought there must be something cool since the girls spent so much more time in there than we did in the boy’s bathroom.

  I downloaded porn on my mom’s computer and when she found it, I told her it was Heath’s and that she shouldn’t say anything because he was trying to figure out his sexuality.

  I hate fishing, but my dad loved it. Every year he’d insist we wake up early on opening trout weekend. He got so excited about it I could never break it to him that I didn’t really wanna go.

  When I started dealing, I told myself that it was just a job and that I wasn’t hurting anyone.

  I got so drunk one time I peed on Wes’ bed and blamed it on Joel.

  I met a girl, a stunning and perfect girl, and I hurt her because I was too selfish to own up to my past. Everything else — the time we spent together and the way you make me feel, it was all real.

  You’re my truth, Chloe.

  Nathan

  I read the letter at least a dozen times before I have to put it away and hustle to practice. I don’t think it’s my imagination that Coach is extra hard on us. We do twice the number of conditioning drills.

  Then, she holds Bri, Sydney, Emily, and me back after practice and informs us the supply closet needs to be cleaned out before the weekend. I really want to get out of here so I can go meet my parents for dinner, but as far as punishment goes this one seems pretty reasonable, so I keep my mouth shut and send my mom a text that practice is running late.

  Sydney puts some music on while we take out every box from the supply closet so we can go through them. Emily devises a two-day master plan to get the closet cleaned and the rest of us just go with it, letting her be the leader of this venture. Typically, Bri would be the one stepping in and coming up with the plan, but she’s barely spoken and not at all to me.

  We pull out boxes and boxes of old stuff. The Valley U beach volleyball program is one of the oldest in the NCAA, and we find tons of merchandise dating back to when it was called sand volleyball instead.

  “Look at these tanks.” Emily holds up a yellow sleeveless shirt with blue horizontal stripes. “It looks like a bumblebee costume.”

  “Ooooh.” Sydney yanks it out of her hands. “I love it.”

  Emily rolls her eyes. “Of course, you do.”

  Over the next hour, we condense twenty boxes to eight and sweep out the closet. Tomorrow the plan is to wipe down shelves and organize and label the boxes. All things considered, not a terrible way to spend an afternoon.

  “You guys wanna grab Chinese and watch New Girl?” Sydney asks, and I want to hug her for trying to act like things are totally normal.

  “I can’t. My parents are in town. Heads up, they’re probably going to want to stop by and see the place.”

  “Must hide dildo. Got it.” Emily smiles. “Bri?”

  She shakes her head. “No thanks, I’m going to stick around and work on some drills.”

  Emily groans. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My whole body hurts.”

  She and Sydney look like they’re waiting for me to walk out with them. I wave them off.

  When it’s just me and Bri, she gives me the stiffest smile ever and heads toward her locker. I follow behind her and wait while she rummages inside and pulls out her phone and headphones. She catches me out of her peripheral and raises both eyebrows. She still doesn’t speak though.

  “I’m sorry and thank you. I really appreciate what you did.”

  She nods and brushes past me.

  “Wait.”

  She pauses without turning around.

  “Can I do some drills with you? We could work on some passing.”

  “Look, you don’t need to do this.” She turns and motions between us. “Make nice or whatever. I didn’t do it for you.”

  “Okay.”

  She crosses her arms at her waist. “The best thing for the team is having you on it, as much as it pains me to admit it. Plus, I knew even you weren’t dumb enough to bring drugs to an away game like party favors.”

  I stay silent but hold my ground and finally she relents. “Fine, but we’re doing blocking drills not passing.”

  I hide my smile. “Whatever you want.”

  My mom laughs as I hug her. “You smell like a locker room, but I’ve mi
ssed my baby too much to care.”

  “I’m sorry.” I pull back to check for damage, but she looks perfect as usual. “I didn’t have time to shower. Bri and I were working on some partner drills.” I turn to my dad and throw my arms around him. “I missed you guys so much.”

  My dad motions to the hostess to let him know we’re ready to be seated, and we’re led to a table in the middle of the restaurant of the same Italian place we came for the team dinner. The waiter takes our drink order and we settle in.

  “Despite needing a shower,” my mom says with a teasing smirk. “You look good.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  My dad plays with the wine menu, not looking it over but holding it and tapping it lightly against the table. “Your mom said you weren’t allowed to play Saturday. Sounds like your coach is an idiot. You’re the best player they’ve got.”

  So this is it… jumping right into it. My chest squeezes, and my face warms. “It was a misunderstanding. Coach did what she thought was right.”

  He scowls.

  “Wait, you think I’m their best player?”

  He gives me a look that says don’t play dumb with me, but when a big smile stretches across my face, he caves and gives me the grin that tells me he means it. “Of course, you are. They’re lucky to have you. Damn idiots at Golden don’t even know how badly they screwed up losing you.”

  After everything that happened, I often wondered if my parents really believed I was good enough to make it on my own. I’ve been stuck in limbo, deciding if they paid my way into Golden because they thought it’s where I belonged or if they didn’t think I could do it by myself.

  Maybe they were just doing everything they could to ensure I got my dream. I don’t like what they did, and I’d never condone it, but I can’t say I don’t get it. If I could pay to have all Nathan’s troubles erased wouldn’t I do it? Isn’t that what I tried to do in a way?

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “So this is it, huh?” my mom asks.

 

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