My Bet Is You

by Manuela Ricci

  "It's okay," I reply, trying to mask the anxiety that you sew on my skin.

  An electric buzz is triggered, the window rolled down, the breeze whips our faces, Logan shows me the various places where she often went when he was a child. We take on a dirt road, tall trees stand out as we passed before he saw a huge house on three levels, colonial style complete with towering columns that flank and support her.

  "Welcome to the Johnsons 'held'

  Logan pulls me to him to drag me down the limo, I look around the majestic garden that covers a large part of the estate.

  "This is the house of your grandfather?" Do not have time to answer that an elegant man with graying hair, waiting for us at the door, he holds up a hand to a stylish stick, but I can not help but notice his height I have no doubt that the Logan has inherited from him, even chiseled features are the same.

  "You've got my son," she says, affectionately and for a moment, my mind turns to memories of my grandfather, about how he always has time for me to sit on his lap, watched with dad trained another horse just arrived at the Ranch . We climb the ten white wooden steps.

  "Yes, sir, as promised, I brought ..." I do not know why I do it, but once I pop my hand toward his grandfather.

  "Your friend, Carrie pleasure to meet you." I can feel the eyes of Logan penetrate me from side to side, his hand leaves my as if scottassi.

  "Pleased, are James Johnson." He invites us to enter, the lobby is comparable to that of a five star hotel, although there are never think I can imagine so. I watch the large crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling and follow him. Logan's hand draws me to his side discreetly, without being heard by his grandfather.

  "You may know that with you?" She whispers, but I see how grinds his teeth, that the idea of omitting to be his girlfriend was not a good move.

  But I still have to accustom myself to feel this, and to say to his family, for now is not high on the list of things to do.

  "We can talk about this later quietly?" He nods his jaw contracting, outlining his worst profile, I think it's that way fixing his opponents in the field before you land it.

  We go into a studio, and an entire wall covered with a library that reaches the ceiling, quell'opposta there are several cases containing antique weapons.

  "Sit down." It shows us two armchairs in front of his desk, took a cigar from a treasure chest in front of him and soon the room is impregnated with the smell that almost makes me weep for its intensity.

  "I know that your father is a tough cookie. I grew up well for fifty years, but you can not forget your last name, and its importance from day to day. "He chooses his words with care to ask your niece, smoke gushing out of his mouth.

  "I was born to play football grandfather, and you know it.

  I can not blow it to hell ... "Just one of his eyes, so Logan rephrase the sentence.

  "I know that, in fact you'll be playing football, I've thought of everything. Your father has had to review a little 'its rules, after all, are still alive enough to take away everything at any time. "

  Logan opens his eyes in disbelief. "Are you serious?" She asks, surprised and dismayed.

  "I would rather know before there were these problems between you. His marriage is imminent and you know how much for us, but especially for your father, the scenic appearance is important for his work. "

  Rest quietly listening to the whole thing until Logan jumps up.

  "He's coming here? Now? "I follow him with his eyes, he comes forward and back for the room only by understanding now why the grandfather wanted to come here.

  "I'm not ready now to face it," he admits, and I read it to him in the eye as the charges say.

  "You will be, there are photo opportunities for the press. Never forget the spotlight trained on you, want or not want, always light up your life, you're a Johnson. "

  Shortly after the door opens, a woman in a mahogany bob swaying with each step, makes his entrance in his expensive suit, behind her a pair, and yet another, and then she, Bettany.

  "Logan, how are you?" The woman grinned reserves, leans on his biceps to give him a kiss on the cheek, I see him stiffen.

  "Trish" he says, almost in a whisper. "Good to see you," she says. Among one of the two businessmen, the resemblance is clear, is Logan's father, and I have confirmation when he replied sarcastically: "I guess."

  It approaches me who are now at the side of the window that extends out into the garden. "I'm sorry, I had no idea this would happen."

  I start to shrug their shoulders and we are interrupted, the father holds out his hand to introduce himself, is a head shorter than Logan, blond hair like his son, even eye color is the same.

  "Pleased, Carrie," I say, trying to be as friendly as possible, does not escape me the way he studied me from head to foot.

  "I've never heard you mention," I noted, Bettany barely stifle a laugh, Logan glares, I introduce myself to his future wife.

  "Where is Weston?" Asks Mr. Johnson, shortly after comes out behind her. The look on his face, the way you smiled at me warmly before handing me his hand, a gesture that uncomfortable use a little 'to reciprocate.

  "Piac ... like Carrie 'mumbled, sketching a forced smile, and I have little time to recover from everything and all those strangers who seem rushed on him with their snobbish, which is organized the photo shoot. Trish gives orders to the camera crew that walk through the door.

  "Well, then, as we have often done to an image factor, you and Bettany poserete together as a couple."

  I can not follow the theater that is materializing in front of my eyes.

  "She is the daughter of the business partner of my son." James's grandfather

  Logan, my side is holding up his staff.

  "I know, I know her." A knot formed in the pit of the stomach when I see Logan blindly following everything that is called, like a robot. His eyes search me all the time, in various poses assumes that the peroxide blonde at his side.

  "Yeah, and you're not just a friend." I turn and look at the man at my side, I feel the risucchiarsi air, to the point that I apologize and I sling out, I reach the patio in the middle of the garden. "Ugly belong to another rank?"

  I look at Weston, the son of the father of Logan companion.

  "You're talking about me or you?" I ask him, narrowed his eyes on smile framing his mouth.

  "Carrie." Logan runs towards us, before he can answer me, raises his hands in surrender and said: "Touche."

  It fades away, I heard the news enough to know that his mother certainly does not possess anything, and you're hoarding a good match for a life only advantages.

  "I could not say no." She explains Logan as he tries catch his breath.

  "Who Logan? Your grandfather or the assistant to your father that you banged? "

  He opens his mouth, my flinch between the teeth, to end that sense of discomfort they feel running through my, reminding me that are in the wrong place, illuminated by a light not mine, even the reflection from time glow can reach me.

  20

  to belong

  Logan

  Your question comes cutting, almost cut the air that surrounds us. I opened my mouth, trying to answer with some excuse, but the truth is that I do not. I do not know how they have understood, but I can not deny that he is not right. I brought here with the sole intention of showing a piece of my life, if I had known this would happen, I would have kept away from the spotlight of the great name of my family.

  "You're right, I was with her," I confess, with a bitter taste for what was my life before her.

  His eyes are unblinking, the stoic air that collides against me, it is just his way of disguising what he's really feeling at this very moment.

  "I never hid who I was. The fact that I passed with ease from one girl always before me. I never lied to you Carrie, but only part of the past, all of them are meaningless shit. "

  I sit on one of the benches lining the patio, with legs apart, elbows and piantiti above them. She tu
rns her back to me with his arms close to his chest. His hushed breath, can hardly tear my, I try to understand what's going through his mind.

  When it's just me and you, in my room it is so different, so simple, but when we are wrapped in our lives, everything seems to get complicated in a way so amplified that I can hardly manage.

  "Your world is so vast Logan, so far, I'm not ... I'm not made for this."

  A knot tightening in my throat, I get up and I press my hands on his shoulders feel tense before, and then lie down to my fingertips as they move slower and lighter against her skin.

  "Do you really think that's easy for me, that all this belongs to me?" He is silent, her hair tickling my chin that I put over his head.

  "I hate having to be on everyone's lips, people who expect great thing to me, both for football, but also as regards the empire on my behalf. I could not choose anything Carrie ... "I think back to my past, a comfortable life, which helped me to make my way more easily in the future that awaited me, but not knowing, that everything, shortly after, I would almost collapsed on him choking. My name everywhere, my problems silhouetted on the front page, for enriching the boring lives of those who want to know when I would have made another wrong move, another crap that

  I could not afford. Fake smiles to show off to photographers and journalists, that if they would not see in me what they wanted, they would go looking for something to ritorcermi against.

  "I know that I may sound crazy, but believe me, even I can not stand this."

  It turns just over his shoulder, his gaze rests on the chin, lips, until you meet my eyes trying to show her how true my words.

  "Why do you do then? You may decide not to belong more to all this. "Trails barely that question. His hand trembles, pointing to what surrounds us. I follow his gesture, losing for the first time in the expanse of land in the villa a few steps from us, in everything that one day will be mine, and I wonder what I could really do with it once you will be in my hands. Weighing almost chokes me while pressing on his chest.

  "I tried, but as you see I'm back to square one. And not because I want to, but I have no choice, not when it comes to my grandfather. "

  I exhale all the air in my body. After the death of my grandmother, I spent most dell'estati from him, to keep him company, and he could see not only a grandfather, but a father who had raised me. Mine was too busy in business to realize what I liked, or what could be troubled.

  "You think he will not understand if I told you?" His tone is almost as urgent as if searching for an escape route,

  I try to understand his reaction, but I can not. Although it is true that our lives are so different, opposite, is not only this to upset you, there must be other.

  Framed her face in her hands, the warmth of his skin

  is released under the palms, making scroll that feeling in the veins.

  "He gave life to our name, see it in the wrong hands would kill him. He sacrificed everything he had to give us the life I have now, although he does not know, because sometimes it is impossible to bear it. "His hand rests on mine, we fix both the gesture, in the heart of the fear takes over, at the thought that his touch is more a farewell.

  "I do not know how I can even handle this ..." The words died in his throat, the pain resurfaces in his eyes. "We will do little together, I will not let this change anything between us," I promise, trying to infuse security, to make them feel that they are here with you, but it is so absorbed in itself, that my words do not seem to even touch it.

  "You do not understand, it's happening so fast ..." He bites his lower lip that takes to shake like the rest of his body. Wrinkled his forehead confused, I bend knees to stare straight in the face, he continues to say things that I can not place.

  "What is happening so quickly Carrie? What are you talking about?"

  He shakes his head repeatedly, slipping from my grasp, he steps back and for a moment his irises dilate with terror.

  "What the fuck?" My question comes out almost like a strangled groan in frustration.

  "I have to leave, I have to leave here Logan, please," she pleads, grabbing my shirt into a fist.

  "Is Bettany? And for you who you are so shocked? "But do not say a word, looks at me with the only hope that the ports out of here as quickly as possible. And do not waste time, to climb into the limo for us to lead to the dock. I call my grandfather, trying to appease his disappointment, essermela melted away without saying anything.

  As a sideways look at it without noticing it, is here by my side, yet it is as if it were somewhere else, miles away I can not grind so fast to reach it. "All right grandfather, I'll call you tomorrow."

  I close, cast out your cell phone in your pocket, and tangle my hands in his.

  "Excuse me," whispers with his head down, as if ashamed, I hate to see her so frail, helpless, as has always been that you do not give up.

  I tighten the grip in his hand. "Do not apologize, it's me that I have to do it. I put you in the middle of that situation, it's all my fault. "

  During the journey by boat to the pier in Santa Monica, I feel as if a part of her she were slipping away from his fingers.

  "What do you do for the rest of the day?" I ask,

  when we reach the twin machine. He shrugs sheepishly before answering: "I'm sorry to accompany Hill, I need ..." I take the back-front, returning to her at once. "Do not tell Carrie, do not tell me you needed to be alone. Do not, I beg you. "

  A corner of his mouth bends in wholesale on a smile bias.

  "I'm such a mess Logan, please do not hate me, but that's exactly what I need right now."

  The anger trembles in the hands, pesto fist on the hood of the car making her jump. "You can know what the hell happened in that damn island to have you reduced to this state?" I start walking back and forth, almost without realizing it. "I just want to go home, please." I turn in one click, surrendering to the fact that once again does not feel ready to tell me anything.

  "That's why I did Trish? Or why not give up my life? Why for that matter, I'm going to do it now. In this precise moment. "

  Pesco from the pocket of the jeans phone, decided to call my grandfather, to block any deal he managed to barter with my father. His hand squeezing mine with your phone. "It's not your fault Logan." Obligation myself to look at it with the breath that is pressing and heart pounding in his chest, ready to explode in what will be his next words.

  "I just need to restore order in my head, I'm not leaving."

  It raises tiptoe tying her arms around my neck, her body pressing against mine, is rigid, the warmth of his breath lash my skin shivering.

  "Then why do you feel that you're doing? What I'm saying goodbye to me? "

  His face remains hidden against his chest. "Not so, but maybe we're getting ahead of myself, a bit 'of time to both do well."

  Bullshit, I feel a rag. "How long? How long you'll need to just stand on your own? "

  I cling to her, holding her to me with possession and despair that come together stordendomi, what that tells me only manages to overwhelm even once.

  "I do not know." I nod with contracted jaw. I melt from his embrace, I open the door and look who got into the car. I make the rounds, and mount to the guide, the roar of the engine vibrates the steering wheel, which cling to such an extent that the knuckles whiten. I decide not to exceed the speed limit, but to enjoy this journey with her, almost as if a part of me to know that I'll see her again.

  I put my hand on his knee, as soon as I press my fingers on the fabric of his jeans. "I'll call Carrie?"

  I'm not asking him, I'm begging him to. Interlace your fingers with mine. "Of course I will. We'll see you on campus, as Danny's. I told you, I just need to think a little 'things' trying to explain to a false belief that I perceive to the bone.

  I clicked his tongue against the palate, thoughts

  They run fast, and the words escape from my mouth: "A little 'things of which you have no intention of talking to me, right?"

>   Now I look at her now the way, his silence, that way of keeping me out of her life, I'm crushing your foot on the accelerator tablet, a strange feeling began to make his way by investing all my rational thought, every cell.

  "I told you I was broken Logan, I warned you." Pronunciation just before unbuckling your belt and get out. In a snap I find myself having her tight wrist in hand, with the nerves of the arms. His gaze goes back to that gesture that keeps it locked still here with me, in my eyes that have become narrowed, I say: "I also broke me, now, thanks to you!"

  I let her go, with the glazed look that binds my only for a split second, which is enough to make me go to pieces before he takes to run to the front door of the Hill.

  "Damn!" He curses, repeatedly pounding his fist against the steering wheel, until they collapsed with his head back against the seat. The increasingly presses breath and the view is almost tarnished, I decided to leave and headed for the Bruins.

  The boys are already in the field, and Mora does not waste time yelling against for my delay. Do not listen to a damn what he tells me, the day I thought was perfect, just went to hell. How could that happen? Within the

  deliberately slamming the door locker against the wall, the dull thud it causes is not enough to appease my anger, I feel growing more and more.

  I reach with long strides my locker, the writing of my last name, seems to taunt me from head to foot, I find myself hearing the crash of my knuckles against the cold metal, which doubles the I invest noise with an adrenaline rush that it takes a strong pulsing in his veins. I stop, panting, with rivulets of blood that blur the floor.

  "What happened?" I grab a towel and wipe my hands without looking at my best friend.

  "You were right, I do not know." My throat burns and for the first time I admit to myself. The next step by giving him a shove, and I am going to put on the uniform. "I did not want to be right. I was just worried about you.