Wyatt

by Leanne Davis

  “I do. Let me grab my bag.”

  I have a small bag that I use for my wallet, which I hang over my shoulder.

  “Bye, Jacey. Nice meeting you,” Kevin calls out behind me.

  I spin and give him a warm smile. He’s so kind. Instantly, I like this guy. “Bye, Kevin. It was very nice meeting you, too.”

  “Come back. I always have a package of doughnuts, so you won’t starve despite Wyatt’s strict diet.”

  I smile and wink and he laughs out loud. I am happy I made a friend, and I start to feel like I fit in here.

  “He’s great,” I say as I follow Wyatt down the outside corridor. We pass rows of apartments exactly like his, their doors and windows leading to the common walkway.

  “He is. One of the best guys I’ve met. He’ll have your back every time, but he never provokes anything. That’s golden. Especially with all the clashing egos that most players have at this level of competition.”

  “Including you?”

  He nods. “Unfortunately, yeah. It’s hard to avoid. Thousands of people all yelling how wonderful you are. Yeah, I succumb to it. Until I realize…”

  “Realize what?”

  “That hell, I’m nothing special. Listening to all that shit and believing it could easily turn us into real assholes. Kevin’s the genuine dude. He’s kind, caring, loyal, and he’d never hurt anyone.”

  “That’s good to hear when you see his size. Nobody would stand a chance.”

  “Never. He’s one of nature’s greatest ironies. He has the kindest, warmest heart inside the biggest, scariest body.” He shakes his head. “There aren’t too many people around campus at this early morning hour, and since it’s Saturday, I can show you most of it.”

  I follow him up the sidewalk towards the campus. A gate crosses the road and introduces the university. I only see two brick buildings on each side of the road, but that’s just the start.

  “Those are the freshman dorms. I lived in that one on the second story,” Wyatt says while waving his hand towards one. They are rather dull and monotonous: red brick, square, with identical lines of big windows. A menagerie of personal decorations, lighting, neon signs, and paintings are displayed in the windows.

  We walk a little further. A few more similar buildings. “That’s one of the student centers. It has the main cafeteria, the student union, some small cafes, and the student bookstore. Over there is the administration building.”

  That one captures my attention. A massive brick edifice, the huge, white, fat columns giving it a sense of immortality as they combine to support a tall, gigantic, triangular overhang. It provides a grand entrance to the building. Windows dot the eight stories of books and knowledge that I can only imagine lie inside the central door. We turn off the road and enter a brick pathway. It’s rather wide as it bisects an oversized lawn. Trees, ancient and mature, pepper the huge park-like grassy area. Buildings also hug the green belts. “This is one of the commons.” Wyatt says while waving at the landscape and gardens. “The library. That’s the Economics building. I think the fine arts classes are over there. I’ve never been inside that building though.”

  The huge buildings are made exclusively of red brick with tall, white columns, and lovely gables. I think it’s the most beautiful architecture. I never noticed buildings before or considered any of them beautiful. They were square boxes with doors and windows in my experience. But here on this campus? They are more like giant works of art. I’ve never seen anything like them. The wide brick walkway opens into a massive square that Wyatt refers to as the Quad. More red bricks lead to a monumental central brick feature. A fountain of water spouts from a metal sculpture shaped like three jumping fish. The rim of the fountain doubles as a bench and several students are sitting on it. Wow. Gorgeous surroundings. All those buildings.

  “Gymnasium right over there. Poli Sci building is behind it. The—”

  “The what?” I stop him. He walks briskly, so obviously used to the attractive scenery around him that he doesn’t get how shell-shocked I am. I feel overwhelmed at where to look and how to take in all the details.

  He smiles. “Sorry. Political Science building.”

  “Do you have any classes in there?”

  “I took an introduction class in my sophomore year. But most of the buildings require a main course of study, and once you declare a major, you spend most of your time in that particular building. You know? The freshmen and sophomores go to all the buildings because they are taking general education classes, which comprise the liberal arts portion of the degree. They have to teach us a little bit of everything and introduce us to all the things we would not know about otherwise. I thought it was kind of stupid. I hated some of those classes. Foreign language was wasted on me. I sucked so bad at it. But I later took a Russian Lit class, which I found very interesting. I even think I liked it.”

  Russian literature? I don’t even know what that is. I certainly don’t expect a twenty-year-old guy to tell me he likes it.

  My head is spinning. I have no context for this and don’t know how to relate. It looks exactly like every movie set I’ve ever seen of a college campus. I didn’t know it looked this way in reality. But it’s much more than that, too. It’s richer, and it provides a fuller experience in person. There is something about the grand magnificence of the buildings, all the red brick and mature trees. The hum of history and education… and I don’t know… I guess all the geniuses that hang out here. It’s a new setting for me, and so different from the type of people I’ve never been around until now. Even when Wyatt explains it to me, I realize I know nothing about degrees and general requirements for college classes.

  “What are you majoring in?”

  “Communications.”

  We start walking again as I ponder what the word means. My gaze drifts everywhere, drinking in the landscape and architecture.

  “What will you do when you graduate?”

  “Exactly? I don’t know yet. But getting a degree is often the first step to a good paying job. Having a college degree is something I’ve always wanted. I don’t know why; I guess it’s been drilled into me by Ryder and Tara. Since they wanted me to earn a college degree, it always seemed important to me.”

  We’re wandering past a building with a small overhang and a window that is lit up in front of it. “Let me buy you a coffee.”

  I nod, and we walk inside. He orders a drink I’ve never heard of. I shrug and say, “Surprise me.” As if I could afford to buy fancy drinks. I don’t even know what kind of coffee I like. He brings back something he calls a Carmel Macchiato. I sip on it as we continue walking. I feel like I’m browsing through a store, soaking in all the architectural nuance and lush landscaping. It’s magnificent and like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

  “So you like attending classes at this university? And you’re not here just for the football?”

  “Yeah. I love it. I always pictured myself in college, you know? Getting to play football while I attend my classes here is the best part for me, never mind the scholarship attached to it. I don’t know, I always wanted to embrace the whole experience.” He waves his hand around, encompassing the greenery, red brick, and general grandeur of the grounds and architecture surrounding us. “I guess to you, it probably seems like a waste of time and money. Some people think it’s a holding zone for adults who refuse to grow up and be adults. But I found it to be a hotbed for new ideas and innovative research. Growing up in a small town, you tend to have a smaller and more limited perspective. Going to school here has expanded every thought I ever had. I’ve considered new perspectives, which I could never have articulated or even known about.”

  He turns his head away from me, staring up at the sky and running a hand over the back of his neck. I’m enthralled. I’ve never heard a guy my own age speak about life like this. I’ve never heard a guy speak about anything significant at all. Never. Wyatt’s inspired, articulate, and excited about learning. He reveres education and any way to
gain more knowledge. I blink at him with my mouth gaping open. I never knew anyone thought such things. I never knew places like this even existed.

  I just never knew.

  And he’s the best damn quarterback of the entire school. He represents thousands of students as he stands there, all two hundred-plus pounds of muscle, discipline, conditioning, training, leadership, and athleticism. His eyes are glistening with passion as he talks about the experiences he has here. Learning. Growing. The challenges of this place kick off something inside him. His goals and ambitions are achievable, and he wants to rise up and accomplish all of them.

  As I’m staring at him in awe, he notices it and flinches. “I sound like a freaking prick, huh?” Dropping his face down in obvious embarrassment, he stops talking.

  I sip my drink and don’t answer at first. I am trying to find the words. I sit down on a park bench, and he sits next to me. I can see he’s confused and unsure. So am I. I’ve never talked to anyone like this before. If he’s embarrassed because he assumes I’ll think he’s dumb or a dork, he is so wrong. I’m thinking how unique Wyatt is. I’ve never known anyone who appreciated his life and ability to acquire knowledge or be where they are like Wyatt does. It’s encouraging to me. And new. I can’t even find the words.

  I lick my lips and turn to face him, drawing one knee up, and tucking it under my other leg. I stare at his profile. He tilts his head, taking several gulps of coffee and his throat vibrates with each gulp.

  “I have never been to a place like this before. I didn’t know brick buildings could be so beautiful. They are works of art, brimming with centuries-old history. I didn’t expect the old trees and walkways to create an atmosphere like this. When I pictured college, the images were like last night at the party. A pile of over-privileged kids getting drunk and high and having sex. Using beer bongs and free sex to live it up now that they’re free of their parents. So for someone like me, it was a joke. A way for pampered kids to avoid growing up and facing the responsibilities of real life. They can spend four to six years ‘in school.’ They can avoid the menial, low-paying jobs that someone like me has to get right out of high school. They can spend their years drinking and pretending they are free from their parents’ rules and restrictions. Privileged not just with money and attending here but by having parents that care enough to provide the food to eat and a house to live in. Students go off and party and hang out to avoid moving on and taking care of themselves. That’s what I saw.”

  He shifts as I speak, and now he faces me. His dark eyes are fastened on my face. It sends a zing of awareness down my spine. I’m not used to having anyone’s undivided attention. Especially when I speak. Whoever wanted to hear anything I had to say? Except for Wyatt. He always gives me his undivided attention. “You saw what? And thought it was true?”

  “No. I saw you as the only player on the field in an entire stadium of people. I’ve never known anyone who could command such loyalty and praise. You lifted up every one of those people with hope and excitement. That’s pretty special. And your knowledge and open perspective? I’ve never heard of some of the things you like to discuss or such new ideas, which you explain so clearly. It’s not part of my history. No one told me about… what exactly are you doing? Improving my thinking? I’m learning new things, things I don’t even know I need to learn. I don’t know much about any subjects. I am quickly realizing the extent of what I don’t know, which is beginning to reveal an epically large gap in our mental capacities.”

  “You don’t think I’m an entitled jerk?”

  I stare at him, shaking my head, and my mouth drops open. “No, Wyatt, I think you are a true hero. You deserve everything you have and the life you lead. To be honest, I don’t automatically give people in your income bracket so much slack. I didn’t deserve the mother I had or constantly getting dumped back into foster care. I was just a kid, so I learned early on that we don’t live in a fair world. I’ll admit I was jealous of kids like you, the ones I knew from school. Kids who had stable families that loved their children and would never think of abandoning them. Parents who didn’t do drugs in front of you or have sex in places where you could hear it going on. And now the screw-ups of my childhood are over. But Wyatt, you channeled all the gifts you’ve been given into becoming the best person you can be. You push yourself as far as you can in every aspect of your life. From all kinds of sports to studying and being the son you are, to making friends and being the good boyfriend you were to Dani. You are the best at everything I have never seen in a man. You set an example. You are a natural leader. A—”

  “Sanctimonious ass?” He smiles and effectively ends my emphatic monologue.

  “No. See? You’re also a delight and a surprise. You are real and funny and insecure at times, which surprises me. Many people back you up and believe in your abilities. You remain humble and kind and… oh, Lord. If I only met someone like you earlier in my life, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up on drugs or lost in horrible relationships without escape. The way my life has gone until now, if I don’t wind up a victim of domestic violence, I’ll call it a success.”

  He stares at me and leans forward, taking my hand in his larger one. I’m pleased at the warmth of his dry hand over mine. He squeezes my fingers gently. There is a careful tenderness in the way Wyatt handles me, and it doesn’t jive with his bulk, his muscles, or even his favorite sport. Football tests the strength and stamina of the players, one-on-one in violent contact, and yet, he’s the gentlest man I’ve ever known when it comes to handling other people.

  “You are much more than that, Jacey. Better than any of those things. You must never settle for anything less. Don’t become apathetic. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for how you were raised and how it affected you. I realize all of that. But what I see is a smart, fiery, beautiful, kind woman who could do or be anything she chooses if she sets her heart on it.”

  No one ever told me I could become anything. Ever. Let alone said it with big, honest eyes as if he wants me to believe every single word. Is this twenty-year-old, gigantic, muscle-toned football player trying to convince me of my true worth?

  “Tell me one reason why you couldn’t go to school here.”

  “Here?” I snort and tug my hands free. Now he’s the one dreaming.

  “I have two to start with: my D+ average in high school and my empty bank account. I can’t even afford to live on my own. The—”

  “You can attend community college and take the bridge classes that will get you started on fulfilling the general requirements. Get a two-year degree and transfer to a college like this one. That’s what Dani is doing. You could do it, too. You enroll in a community college now, and switch to one of these universities later on. I believe you could do that. I do. You left a guy that strangled you, made your way all alone across the state, and came here. You’re a survivor. I see that in you and in Wesley. I can’t pretend to understand what you two had to do to survive while Dani and I were raised in happy homes of comfort and unlimited opportunity. It sucks. It isn’t fair.”

  “But you two aren’t to blame. You’re both good people.”

  He touches my face, barely a soft brush of his fingertips over my cheek. “So are you.”

  Something instantly quivers in my stomach. It’s a good feeling. Pretty unusual for me. A little zing shoots down my back and lands in my gut. Nothing ever felt like that. I am on the verge of freaking blushing. Just from a little, tiny touch of his fingers on my cheeks? Thankfully, I don’t blush. I don’t even get embarrassed. I’ve gone to bed with guys after less interaction than I’ve had with Wyatt, yet the very mention of the word sex doesn’t compute with him. The word hangs precipitously on my tongue but will not come out. Why this reaction?

  “I’ve never heard anyone our age talk about expanding their mind and being different on purpose. It’s… I like it. I don’t think you’re a jerk. No, you’re brave and interesting and unique. I can’t imagine what a class in Russian Literature or Poli Sci might
involve. I wish I had the slightest clue about what campus is like for you. But sometimes when I hear you talk, it seems as if you’re speaking a different language.”

  He drops his hand, and I want to grab it and hold it. I want to curl into his side and have him hold me and talk about the school and learning as I stare at the magnificent architecture. Now, I want to grow one hundred percent and be different than I’ve ever been. I want to rise above the poverty and drugs and abuse. I want to know all about science and art and literature and why it’s so important. I don’t even know what it is. I never before cared to learn anything beyond how to ring up a cash register or sweep a floor. I never knew places like this or people like him existed.

  I never even knew I had possibilities. Goals. Dreams. I’m dizzy. It’s all so overwhelming. An epiphany? Whatever. It’s definitely a revelation.

  “You know, Dani never understood what I was doing here.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s so focused on her training at college. She has a long-term end goal written down, along with how to achieve it. She’s practical. She plans out everything and sets her goals accordingly. She is a type A personality, attending each year of college as the means to achieving the final goal. She requires precise knowledge to be successful at her career, something she decided on years ago. I asked her to come here and experience this lifestyle with me. I wanted her to be part of it, not just attending classes and checking the boxes off a printout. I wanted her to see what it all was about. She strictly wanted the degree, and to be honest, I think I’ve always preferred the whole experience to what she liked. The education for me extended to all facets of my college life. I learned so many new and interesting things I’d never have given a second glance before. I could never convince her to come here.”

  “You two didn’t have the chemistry, did you?”

  His gaze lands on his drink, and he swirls it. “No. Nah. We didn’t. Well, no, that’s not true. We did when we first started dating, but after I came here and she didn’t, maybe we were just too much alike. Or too practical. I don’t know why it didn’t work out. On paper, we were perfect, ideal matches, and it should have lasted forever. But in reality—”