by J. Nathan
I had no fucking clue.
Soft jazz music and the scent of vanilla and hazelnut welcomed us into the coffee house. We stepped up to the counter, and the barista I knew from parties at my house greeted us, her eyes curiously jumping between Emery and me. “Hey, Grady, what can I get ya?”
“I’ll have an iced coffee.” I looked to Emery. “Do you still like frozen hot chocolate?”
She shook her head. “I got sick after drinking one.” She looked to the barista. “I’ll just have an iced coffee with extra cream and sugar.”
I hated that I didn’t know that. Hated that there was so much I didn’t know about her anymore.
“Eight dollars and sixty-eight cents,” the barista said.
I handed over a ten. “Keep the change.”
“Still a big spender, I see,” Emery teased.
“Only the best for you.”
“Well, thanks.”
I waited for our order while Emery found a table in the corner. I picked up our drinks and joined her. “So, Emery Larson…” I said, placing her drink down before sitting across from her.
She nodded. “It was important for me to keep my first name. I’ve always loved that it was different, but not so different that there weren’t others with it.”
“Only two on this campus,” I assured her.
She smirked, well aware I’d been stalking her.
“And your last name?” I asked.
She pulled her drink closer and sipped out of the straw. “No one can know about my past, Jordan. We still worry he’ll find us.”
I nodded, understanding her circumstances. “He moved away not long after you did.”
“We heard. We were so scared he’d found us but instead he went off the grid.”
“I’m happy you got away from him.”
She nodded. “It was so hard to leave.” Something I couldn’t quite read shone in her eyes before they lowered to the table. “I lost so much more than just my identity when we left.”
There was no reason for her to say it. We both knew the truth. She’d lost me when she left. She’d lost the protection I provided. She lost the friend I’d always been to her.
“My mother wouldn’t let me contact you.” Her eyes lifted, gauging my reaction to her words.
“You were never someone to listen to your mother,” I countered.
“She left him for me. I had to do it for her.” The pain in her eyes, four years later, conveyed the depth of her situation. “She worried he was monitoring your social media and texts. You know, to find us.”
I’d never considered that. I let that knowledge set in. Her stepdad had been tech savvy. Had she contacted me via phone or Internet, chances were he would’ve traced the contact point. He would’ve found them because of me. “I worried something happened to you.”
Regret blanketed her features. “I knew you would. I tried to think of ways to contact you. But in the end, I knew I’d be the reason he found us. And all my mother gave up for me would’ve been for nothing because of me.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Arizona.”
“So, why are you here now?”
Her eyes recaptured that spark I once knew so well. “We used to talk about me coming here to watch you play. Remember?”
I nodded.
She shrugged. “Well, here I am.”
My head shot back. Had she really come to Alabama because she told me she would? Why not find me as soon as she got to campus then? Why show up at my house with Flip? I wanted to ask. Man, did I want to ask. But she was being so open. I didn’t want to say anything to piss her off. “What are you majoring in?” Yup. Totally lame question.
“Social work or counseling,” she said, her voice and features becoming animated. It was clear it was important to her. “I ultimately want to open a safe place for women to escape bad situations and get back on their feet, like my mom and I needed when we moved.”
“Like a shelter?”
She nodded.
Of all the scenarios I played out in my head after she left, imagining Emery and her mom in a shelter wasn’t one of them. “You opening a safe place for women sounds like an amazing idea. I’m really proud of you.”
She shrugged, seemingly embarrassed by my praise. “I haven’t done it yet.”
“You will.”
She suppressed a smile, but I knew she appreciated my vote of confidence. She always had. “I was able to get your games online,” she said, changing the subject. “You looked great out there.”
“You’ve been watching?”
She nodded. “I told you I would. I wished I’d been able to be at the stadium. I did make it once.”
My head flinched back. “You did?”
“In Texas last year. I took a road trip with my friends. I could’ve sworn you sensed I was there. Your eyes scanned the seats so many times. It was as if you knew I was there rooting you on.”
I thought back to that game. One hundred thousand spectators packed the massive stadium. Never in a million years had I thought Emery was there. “Thanks for making the trip. I wish you would’ve hung around to see me.”
“It would’ve been too hard to see you only to take off again without being able to contact you.”
Though it sucked, I understood her dilemma. Her life changed when her mom left Wayne. And though it improved in so many ways, it also required her to consider her every move. “Is it safe for you here?”
“It’s been four years since we’ve seen Wayne. With almost forty thousand students here and a new name, I think I’ll be safe. I just need to be aware of my surroundings and stay off social media. Those are a couple things you learn early on when you’re starting over.”
We drank our drinks in silence for a few minutes. She’d cleared so much up for me. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need time to process it all. But I hated silence—almost as much as I hated Flip. “What’s the deal with you and the idiot?” Yup. I thought I could hold off, but the thought was slowly eating away at my sanity.
She snickered. “Be nice, Jordan. It’s hard coming to such a big campus and not knowing anyone. He was the first person I met at orientation. And we ended up living on the same floor.”
“You knew me. I’m right here.”
“The campus is huge. And I didn’t know how to find you.”
I cocked my head. “How hard could it be to ask around, especially since your new buddy’s on my team?”
She spun her cup slowly on the table, avoiding my gaze. “I’d only been on campus a day when Flip asked me to go to the party. I didn’t even know it was your house.”
“Stop making excuses and tell me the truth.”
She pulled in a deep breath. “I didn’t know how you’d react to seeing me.”
Seeing the vulnerability in her eyes tugged at something inside me. Something I’d pushed down deep. “Em, don’t be crazy. You were my best friend.”
Her eyes cast down, and I couldn’t help but hate that I’d been so tough on her at my party. It took guts for her to show up there, and then all I could do was accuse her of leaving me.
“You know Flip wants you,” I said.
She nodded regrettably. “I reckon he’d like to be more than just friends.”
“Damn straight he does. Watch him. I don’t trust him. Anyone who enters a room and points to everyone is a tool.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hate when he does that.”
“Then tell him to knock it off. He’s giving guys everywhere a bad name.”
She laughed.
It had been so long since I’d heard the sweet sound of her laughter. I reached across the table and placed my hands over hers around her coffee cup. “I’ve missed you.”
Her eyes dropped to my hands over hers. “I’ve missed you too.”
And I may have been a pussy for admitting this, but my heart felt like one of the broken pieces—the ones created when she d
isappeared—had fixed itself back into place.
“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in my bed again.”
She snorted. “Jordan Grady. A gentleman does not proposition a lady like that.”
My head twisted around. “You see a lady around here?”
“You’re still the same stupid boy, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am.”
She slipped her hands from under mine and checked the time on her phone. “I should get going.”
“Let me walk you.”
She laughed. “Don’t you have your own classes?”
I shrugged as I stood. “There are plenty of girls willing to share their notes with me.”
Her smile faltered for all of two seconds before she grabbed her bag from the floor and stood. “Some things will never change,” she mumbled.
Emery
“You haven’t told me where you’re living,” Jordan said as he walked me along the sidewalk to my next class.
“Maybe I don’t want you to know,” I countered.
“Scared?” He laughed, and when he laughed all deep and gravelly like that, it shot straight to my toes. And, all the feelings I’d once had for him—scratch that—I still had for him, barreled back with a vengeance. And though my feelings remained just as strong as they’d been the night he kissed me, I needed to know if he’d ever see me as more. Being on campus was the only way to know once and for all if his feelings for me could move past the friend-zone.
“Fine. I’ll have to keep stalking you,” he said. “I’m harmless, you know. Except when I see you with Flip. Then I want to crush the idiot.”
My brows shot up. “Jealous?”
He shrugged, his eyes averting mine. Was there a possibility he could be jealous?
“Like I said,” I continued. “Flip and I are friends.”
Jordan grunted. “Well, if he touches you in a way you don’t like, you need to tell me.”
“Agreed.” I turned and glanced to the building beside us. “This is me.”
He nodded.
“Thanks for the coffee. It was nice catching up.” I turned to walk inside, wishing more than anything he’d stop me and tell me to stop hanging out with Flip. That he’d show me something that would affirm all my efforts to get there were worth it.
“Emery,” he called.
My breath caught in my throat as I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. He looked even more gorgeous than I remembered with his jeans hanging low on his hips and the short sleeves of his T-shirt clinging to his biceps. “You coming to the game Saturday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He smiled. “Want me to leave you a front row ticket, like the old days?”
I stilled, preparing for his reaction. “Flip already got me and my roommate tickets.”
Anger flashed in his expression for a split-second and then he recovered. “I guess I’ll see you there then.” He turned and, in no rush at all, walked away, greeting people he knew along the way with fist bumps. But he didn’t turn back.
Why didn’t he turn back?
The Jordan I knew always turned back one last time to be sure I was okay. Maybe that was the sign I needed to know his feelings for me would never change.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Emery
The electricity in the stadium overwhelmed me as I stood in the front row beside my roommate, Raquel. She was excited to be at her first football game, mostly because she’d hooked up with the kicker.
The team was warming up on the field and I spotted Flip playing catch with his backup. He looked like a star out there, all tall and built with a missile for an arm. I knew this was a dream come true for him. And regardless of what others may have thought of him, he was thrilled to be the quarterback for one of the best universities in the country.
Jordan stood on the sideline, his eyes scanning the crowd behind him. When his eyes caught mine, a smile spread across his lips. He’d yet to put on his helmet so his light eyes twinkled in the early afternoon sunlight. He held his hands out to his sides as if to say this was a long time coming. I smiled back and nodded my agreement. He shook his head, seemingly amused by the way we could still read each other’s minds.
Raquel leaned over. “He’s hot.”
“He’s the first boy I ever kissed.”
“No way,” she said.
I gave her a sidelong glance. “Yup. And then I moved away.”
“Nothing else happened between you?” she asked, her eyebrows bouncing in question.
I shook my head. “I was only fifteen. And he was older and my best friend.”
“Wow. I wish I had a best friend who looked like him.”
I laughed. “It definitely wasn’t easy. Especially when I had to see him with other girls.”
“Sounds like Flip has some competition.”
I scoffed. “I don’t think Jordan will ever see me as anything but the friend who left town and never called him.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
Oops. Too much information. I shrugged, playing it off nonchalantly. “It was easier that way.”
“Does that mean he’s fair game?” Raquel asked.
My stomach twisted at the thought of him with someone else. “I thought you were into the kicker?”
She shrugged. “Just keeping my options open.”
I turned back to the field, saying nothing because I didn’t know what to say. Could I stake claim on him when he saw me solely as a friend?
Before long, both teams lined up on the sidelines. An announcer asked everyone in the stadium to stand for the National Anthem. Just like in Texas, it was still so crazy to see Jordan on this big stage making his dream a reality in person. He told me he’d do it when he was eleven, and he actually did it. I wondered what it felt like to make a dream a reality. I gathered it was quite similar to the moment Jordan finally kissed me. I’d dreamt about that moment for as long as I could remember and once it happened, it was surreal.
The game began and the stadium erupted. Our opponents lost yardage and turned the ball back over to us in three downs. If I thought it had been loud before, that was nothing compared to the energy that ensued once we gained possession of the ball.
Our offense huddled around Flip. They clapped in unison before taking their positions. Jordan lined up to Flip’s right. Flip called out something up and down his line before taking the snap. He reeled back with the ball in his hands, his eyes scanning the field for his wide receivers. A player from the other team steamrolled through the offensive line coming for Flip.
Jordan kept one hand on the player he blocked and reached over and pressed his other hand into the steamroller’s chest, holding him back. Flip made a nice spiral pass down the right sideline that hung in the air. Every breath was held as the receiver, tailed by the defense, reached up with one hand and nabbed the ball over his defender’s head. He was pummeled as soon as his feet hit the ground, but he’d gained thirty yards. The stadium went wild.
Ten yards at a time, Flip moved the ball down the field, with Jordan blocking for him like his life depended on it. On the seven-yard line, Flip called out a play without a huddle. On the snap, the running back crossed behind him for a handoff and took off running. Jordan ran in front of him knocking everyone in his path out of the way.
The running back dove into the end zone to score the touchdown. The stadium roared. The concrete beneath our feet rumbled as he jumped up with the ball clasped in his hand and ran toward Jordan, leaping into his arms in celebration.
The rest of the players on the field joined Jordan and his running back to celebrate the moment. Once they disengaged and ran to the sideline, Jordan’s eyes searched the crowd. It’s what he always did when we were kids. He looked for confirmation that he’d done well out there.
Butterflies swarmed my belly as his eyes found me standing amongst the crowd. He smiled. And
the same sense of satisfaction I felt back when we were younger, back when I was the envy of so many girls, flooded my body. I returned his smile and once I did, Jordan turned away, grabbed a water bottle, and joined some teammates on the bench.
I searched for Flip. He pointed to the crowd. His eyes never found me. But then again, why would they? We were just friends. He had an entire cheering section of family and friends from back home in Oklahoma around us cheering him on.
Flip sealed our fate in the last quarter with a quarterback sneak that had him following Jordan into the end zone, leading us to a twenty-one to seven victory over Arkansas.
As the fans filed out of the stadium after the game, my feet remained in place.
Raquel followed our row out to the aisle. She glanced back, finding me still in the same spot. “You coming?” she called.
I shook my head. “I need a few minutes.”
“Want me to wait?”
“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll meet you at the room.”
She nodded before making her way up the stairs and out of our section.
I looked back out at the field. Television cameras and a sideline reporter waited on the sideline to interview players. Flip stopped, waiting for the reporter to approach him. She didn’t. She hurried over to the real star of the game. The player who made it possible for Flip to make all his passes and score his final touchdown. Jordan Grady.
I watched Jordan remove his helmet so he could speak into the reporter’s microphone. His smile was so damn big and his cheeks were flushed as he answered her questions. This was his moment and everyone knew it. Flip only looked good because of him.
Something had changed in Jordan. I’d watched his first three seasons, and today was the first time I could tell he was determined to shine. It was obvious in every play. And now, that determination was there in the look in his eyes as he answered the reporter’s questions.
Once the camera switched off and the reporter lowered the microphone, she thanked Jordan and turned to Flip, holding the microphone up to him.
Jordan moved away from them and his eyes found me once again, one of the few people still in the seats. He smiled and jogged over, stopping in front of me down on the sideline.
