Wyatt

by Leanne Davis

  “This is awesome.” It pops out of my mouth as we surround Dani’s car.

  She glances at me and nods. “It sure is.”

  “As we go down our different paths and pursue our future plans, we gotta stay close. Connected. You know?” I add. I can’t believe I’m so thrilled over this. It’s so not me.

  “You two will. Wesley and Dani will. But me? I’m—”

  “My best friend. As Dani is to Wyatt, so you are to me.” Wesley finishes for Jacey. “So fuck, yeah, you’ll stay close, and we’ll always be connected.” Wesley glances at me. “And this is strangely awesome.”

  I clear my throat and drop into the back seat. I feel quiet and sleepy and content. I am so glad for how I spent the evening. Even if I end up dead to the world during classes tomorrow and practice… and the team meeting… fuck. It was nice to get away and feel young. Here. Dreaming and talking and hanging with the people I love. I don’t do that often enough.

  When we get back, I drop on my bed. I can only groan when my alarm wakes me early enough to still get to class on time. Right back at it. Good, old, reliable Wyatt that I am.

  Chapter 10

  JACEY

  I work the entire week, waiting with my heart lodged in my throat to hear what the college has decided about my application. I attend Wyatt’s next home game and more or less have the same experience, but I’m prepared for it this time. The magnitude of his popularity and larger-than-life presence hits me once again. Damn. Why does he even waste his time with me? Although he seems to like hanging out, I can’t imagine what he sees in my lame and unglamorous self. With no spare money, I have nothing fun to do. My conversation is boring and ordinary. Definitely not Wyatt-worthy when I compare my limited scope in current affairs to the education he managed to attain so far.

  I finish reading Crime and Punishment. I text him to let him know that, and he promises to join me for a walk on campus tomorrow to talk about it. He also suggests I pick another book from the library.

  I feel more connected and understood than ever. I am like a prom queen, giddy and excited. I can’t wait. I enjoy football if only for the popular acclaim that Wyatt receives. It’s a trip. It makes me feel honored and privileged to know him. Like a rock star groupie or something. After the game, I follow his family to the field to greet him, and his huge grin is directed right at me. The sweat beads on his handsome face. I restrain the overwhelming urge to run and leap right into his arms. Instead, I stop only a foot away from him so when he speaks, I can still manage to hear him over the huge crowd around us. Many people vie for his attention. He ducks his head towards me and asks, “Did you understand what I was doing out there this time?”

  I gesture with my index finger and thumb, widening the space to an inch and reply, “A little bit more than last time.”

  His smile blossoms into a full grin that reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek. His eyes sparkle when he looks at me. “I really should get some new cheerleaders.”

  I tilt my head. “Cheerleaders? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Wesley, Dani, and you. Apparently, the game is lost in translation with you three. Wesley and you are just getting a glimpse of what Dani barely knows. I doubt if she could manage to completely block it all out. I have hundreds of cheering fans, and then there are you three. At least my family knows what I’m doing.”

  It’s a thrill that Wyatt lumps me in as something important to him. I believe he actually cares that I’m here. That he thinks about me at all is enough to send a sharp zap down my nerve endings. I really like getting noticed by this guy. It’s wonderful to be in a group of friends. Dani and Wesley are on my left, at ease and talking to Wyatt’s family. When Dani catches my eye, she smiles and does a mini eyeroll at all the hoopla, and I giggle back in return. ME! Giggling. I don’t ever giggle or share eyerolls with other girls. I don’t go to football games or fraternize with the star players. I don’t apply to colleges. I don’t choose to read foreign classics of literature. I don’t even live with a family.

  No, that was before. Now, I do.

  My senses haven’t caught up to my new reality. I can’t believe all these things are happening at once. Every one of the luxuries that I always longed for. It overwhelms me, and I grab onto Wyatt to keep myself steady. He doesn’t fail to notice my sudden weakness and flood of emotions. “You okay?” he asks right next to my ear. His breath feels warm on the side of my face. Shivers slide down my spine in response.

  “Yes. I was just thinking how different my life is now, here with you guys, than it ever was before. Sometimes, I just can’t believe it’s really happening.”

  “You need to stay with us then. We’re good for you. Your ex-boyfriend and all that shit of the past wasn’t good. You know the difference. Don’t forget it.” He gives me a crooked smile that sends my heart zooming in reply. “Remember, it’s all your fault from now on.”

  It’s hard not to respond to his knowing, cocky grin, and I love it that he remembers. He remembers my ism. Knowing how insecure I am, every time he talks to me, he tries to build me up, yet I never have to build him up. Everyone else builds him up bigger than life by exalting his heroic plays on the field. But he keeps trying to make me see the potential he sees in me.

  Someone snags his arm and pulls him away. They start chanting how wonderful he was. I stare after him, and Wyatt glances over his shoulder with a look of regret in his eyes. He puckers up his mouth in annoyance and gives me a little shrug. I smile at his silent regret. I also fist my hands with renewed determination. He’s right, it’s all my fault now, and I won’t forget that. Nor will I forget that Wyatt taught me that.

  I spend the night again and play video games with Kevin and Kayden. Kevin and I share packaged chocolate-covered doughnuts while Kayden and I argue about every single play I make on the Xbox. Mostly because I beat him even though I’m brand new at it. Turns out his opinions are as passionate as mine. Plus, he thinks I’m lying and accuses me of having played it in the past. He acts as if I’m sandbagging him. I crack up in his face before going to sleep in Wyatt’s perfectly kept bedroom again. This time, I feel far more comfortable and have no trouble falling asleep each night.

  “Do you realize how clean you are?”

  He glances at me while searching through his dresser drawers for clothes to wear that day. “Me?”

  I roll my eyes. “You even color coordinate your closet. After you hang up your clothes.”

  “You looked inside my closet?” He frowns my way.

  “Duh. Of course I did. Just mild snooping, nothing excessive.” I grin, and he scowls deeper. “But you are meticulously neat. How do you find the time with everything else that you do?”

  “I do it as I go along and never let it build up. Just makes sense. I noticed you’re not inclined that way, huh?” His mild tone and eyebrow lift take the barb out of his mild insult.

  I laugh out loud, leaving him alone to change. He comes out moments later, and we stroll to campus. We chat as we walk. The day is sunny and glorious again. The leaves are tinged in colors they weren’t just two weeks ago. Hints of gold and orange and burgundy pepper the landscape. I lift my face towards the sun’s warmth and let it relax me. It’s so strange to be relaxed and present in the moment. Before coming to Silver Springs and meeting Wyatt’s family, I constantly fretted or worried about just getting through the day. I never experienced this kind of quiet solitude.

  We saunter and I think how rare it is to see Wyatt moving so casually, yet he’s smiling and kidding with me, acting carefree and fun. He grabs two coffees from the same little café and this time, we sit on the concrete lip of a fountain and watch the center commons area.

  He sips his drink. “So you finished your first Russian classic, huh?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “And I liked it.” I drop my gaze to my feet and tap my canvas-covered toe. “I think the book inspired me to send the text I sent you. And now I’m waiting to hear back about
my college application. Wait—Is community college almost the same as the university?”

  “Both are college applications. Both will get you where you want to go. Community colleges only offer two-year degrees so you should opt for a direct transfer degree. That will allow you to easily slide into a four-year university as a junior. Your credits and all the general university requirements are fulfilled by the transfer degree, that is, if you stay in the same state as the community college.”

  I flex my fingers at his presumption that I’ll get into college and go on to even consider a four-year degree. I can just imagine myself as a junior at a university. Ha. As if. I’m doubtful I’ll even be allowed to take the placement tests. But I shake my head. “Just stay focused on today. You overwhelm me with your broad assumptions.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “I won’t quit assuming. I think everyone has assumed too little of you and for all your life. I think you’ve been raised without anything to build your confidence and security. So I’m going to believe in you. I am going to assume all kinds of things. I’m going to reach for the stars for you. Because you want to go to school and I have no doubts you can do it. One step at a time, sure, but keep thinking big.”

  I can’t imagine the day when I stand at the entrance of this campus and say that I am a student of it.

  But Wyatt can. Something rumbles through my gut. It’s nice. Having someone think so highly of me. I didn’t know I wanted all of this. That damn book opened up a door, and it ignited my curiosity and wonder. I was exposed to things I never considered before, and now look at me and my crazy, wandering thoughts.

  “But Wyatt, I don’t know how to discuss a book. What parts to analyze or anything at all. My only positive point is that I read it and understood it and probably the most surprising of all, at least to me, is that I finished it.”

  He nods. “Okay, and you liked it. You finished it. It inspired you. That’s enough. Why don’t we select another one? This time let’s make it new for both of us.”

  He rises to his feet and reaches for my hand. The zing that pulsates from his fingertips into mine travels up my arm. “How do we find one?”

  “Wander down the aisles, start pulling books out and see what grabs us. We’re on a total nerd adventure, but no one else has to know, right? Just us? Our thing?”

  Our thing? I never had a “thing” with anyone else. Not a guy. Not a friend. Or someone I respect. A thing that’s only ours? I like the idea of that and being exclusive. It shows emotional sincerity and true intimacy, neither of which I usually care to share. I let him pull me to my feet, and we head to the library. We go down different aisles, weaving our way past small corners and nooks and along the rows. The endless books are fascinating and strange. We eventually choose a nonfiction book about World War II. I never read anything about it. But the cover grabs my attention with photos of soldiers in black and white looking grim, ratty, and grave. “The War for Leningrad?” I read the blurb and look at Wyatt. I don’t know anything about the city or the war.

  “Russia lost millions of people in the war against Germany and as POWs. But the siege of Leningrad was a blockade conducted by the Nazis. They effectively shut the city off for several years, and it became one of the deadliest blockades in history. I think Leningrad is now called St. Petersburg.”

  I study him as he casually answers the most random topic I pull from the library bookshelves. “How do you know all of that?”

  He shrugs, and a small smile appears on this face. “I’m not sure. Either it’s been told to me or I read it or something.”

  “Part of the general education stuff.” I turn away. There’s no general education or anything else for me. I’m lucky I learned to read despite the scarcity of help I received.

  He touches his hand to my shoulder. “Hey, don’t let that come between us or make you angry at me. I don’t think anything about it. You asked me something I knew a little information about, so I answered you.”

  “I see a Russian theme here. What are the chances I’d grab a book at random that was tied to the same country? Maybe it means something.”

  “All right then, our Russia studies continue.”

  I nod and grin as I hand him the book. “But there’s only one copy.”

  “I’ll buy it then. We’ll read it in—what do you think? Two weeks?”

  “How can you find the time? Have you reviewed your schedule?”

  “Yeah, but I’m a fast reader.”

  Another thing I feel bad about. I wait tables for a living and do nothing else and yet I’m worried about reading a book in two weeks?

  But Wyatt just takes the book and checks it out at the front desk. Moments later, he hands it to me and we’re once more strolling. “What about an ice cream? We could have one together.”

  We do, and we talk endlessly as we wander the campus eating our yummy ice creams. We take licks of each other’s flavors; his is strawberry, and mine is blueberry. “I swear, it tastes like I’m eating freshly picked berries with each bite.”

  We smile and fall into step as we wander around, letting the sun warm our faces and bare arms. It’s the most peaceful, quiet, glorious afternoon I’ve ever spent with anyone. Who would think I’d be sharing it with this bulked-up football player who also reads Russian literature and knows random facts of world history? I find him far more interesting than Hans.

  Hans asks me to meet up with him tomorrow. I agree. For some reason, I don’t mention it to Wyatt. I can’t begin to articulate why. He wouldn’t care. We aren’t dating or even flirting. Well, most of the time. We are friends. He is the truest friend I’ve maybe ever had. And yet I don’t want him to know about a guy I might or might not hook up with?

  I ignore the thoughts I have about Hans when we get back to Wyatt’s apartment. Instead of going anywhere, Kevin and Kayden want to play Xbox with me. I find it a little touching to my friend-starved soul that they want my company. They choose me to participate in their beloved games. Mostly because they think I’m funny. I get pretty deeply into it and yell and scream and get worked up, especially the better I become at it.

  Wyatt rarely plays. He disappears for a while and comes back out, ruffling my hair as he passes me. I stare after his shorts-clad butt as he continues towards the kitchen. I have to draw my attention back to the TV screen. What am I doing? Getting overwhelmed by a warm, fuzzy feeling over a freaking head rub? A random little show of affection? It’s nothing. He probably does it to Kevin. But it feels like so much more to me. New. Nice. Affection. I never enjoyed the luxury of that. I like it. And his smile…it’s like a warm, fuzzy compliment that speeds my heart up and heats up my skin with a blush of pleasure.

  Sunday is his homework day. I figure that out. He puts in a long day to get a jumpstart on the week ahead. Guilt ripples through me as I recall my random text of a few weeks ago, about asking him to help me find out about college. Coming home must have interfered with his weekly schedule and all the work he has to do. But he never once mentioned that I interrupted him.

  I meet up with Hans. We get a pizza. We talk and laugh, but it’s mostly flat this time. Boring and a bit lackluster. I can’t blame it on anything in particular that he did. He’s not as fascinating to me as Wyatt is. Which isn’t his fault. He takes my hand, and we walk back to Wyatt’s apartment. Again, we stop out front and again, he doesn’t ask to come up or want to see Wyatt. I’m so relieved. I still don’t want Wyatt to know about the small amount of contact I have with Hans. Which is weird. Wyatt and I are not an item. We are friends, platonic. It’s good to keep expanding my friendships to new and different people besides the ones I’ve always shown a predilection for in the past. I have to give both Hans and Wyatt kudos since neither one is at all like Bobby.

  Wyatt takes me home late Sunday, and we have a pleasant drive. “Don’t forget your book,” he warns me with a small grin.

  I don’t. I start reading it that night and immerse myself in 1940s Russia. I re
ad until three in the morning. Who knew there was so much to know? The entire story reads like the most tragic, but enthralling, psychological action thriller. Only it really happened.

  I finish the whole book in three days. I text Wyatt and he sends me a string of smiling emojis. He tells me to come up this weekend so we can find another book to read together.

  He promises to finish his before then.

  Again, I smile and blush as a series of thrills zing through me. I can’t wait for our book date at the campus library. Maybe we could try poetry now. Russian poetry. Maybe I’ll find a theme we can relate to.

  And we do that. I work at the café and live with Tara and Ryder. It’s calm, quiet, and pleasant. Each day melts into the next. Wesley comes and goes with Dani. The three of us spend a lot of time together. Wyatt comes home occasionally or stays after he drops me off when I spend the weekend on campus with him.

  We pick out four more books. We try poetry, then we find an old-time diary of a lady named Martha. She was a midwife in the 1600s during Colonial America. We read more nonfiction, including the War of 1812 and another one about John Adams. We pick them all at random and take whatever is available on the campus library shelf. Talk about an eclectic mix. On Saturday afternoons, we wander the campus discussing our latest selection before picking out a new one. It always culminates when we get to Silver Spoons for ice cream and more talking.

  We never bother to drink or party again. Not since the first weekend I was there. Instead, it’s all about books, the ice cream shop, walking the campus and video games with Kevin and Kayden. It’s strange and invigorating. I’ve never spent time like this before. I’ve also never developed a grown-up friendship like this before. It’s healthy and sane and good for me. It teaches me new things, and I appreciate it. I can’t put words to it.