“Can we do this again sometime?”
“Hang out or smoke?”
“Both?”
Elijah chuckled. Peeking over his shoulder to find me fully clothed, he turned to face me. “I think that could be arranged. So . . .” He stepped closer and ran a hand through my damp hair. “You’re sober now.” His minty breath washed over my face. “And I’m sober now.”
I wasn't sure that was one hundred percent accurate, but I wasn't about to argue. He bent his head until his lips barely brushed mine, waiting for what I had no idea. Permission? He had it. He definitely had it. Pushing up onto my toes, my lips met his. And then they moved. Gripping my head and angling it so he could get the best access, his tongue traced over my lower lip. When I gasped, he dove inside. Hot damn, he tasted as good as he smelled.
I lost track of time wrapped up in his arms and lips and hands. Those hands roamed everywhere, and so did our feet, apparently, because somehow we ended up back on the bed. When we finally broke apart, I took a ragged breath and found myself chewing a piece of gum I definitely hadn’t been chewing before. Elijah winked at me and I damn near died.
Chapter Sixteen
Surprise, surprise. The parental units were exactly where I knew they’d be when I got home. Mom sitting on the sofa and dad working in his office, waiting for her to sound the alarm so he could pounce. Maybe the whole ‘predictable’ thing was genetic.
“Where have you been?”
“I—”
“She’s home!” And there went the alarm. I didn’t even get a chance to finish my answer when Dad barged into the living room.
“Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea how worried your mother has been all day? Do you have any respect for us at all?”
With the barrage of questions coming my way, I didn’t know which to answer first, or if I was even meant to answer any of them. My answers wouldn’t matter anyway. Not to them.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What happened to the girl we raised?”
“She realized this was her life! Not yours!” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Yelling wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “I can’t keep doing things just because they make you happy. I need to be happy, too.”
“You were happy.” My mother looked distraught sitting on the sofa. Dark circles ringed her eyes and guilt gnawed at my stomach. I really hadn’t meant to make her worry.
“I’m sorry I ran out earlier. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was happy before because I was making you happy, but that’s not enough anymore. I need to do what I want to do, go to school where I want to go, study what I want to study.”
“You’re going to Harvard to study pre-med.” My father said it as though it were a foregone conclusion. “If you can still manage to get in by some miracle.”
“What if that’s not what I want?”
“It is what you want. It’s what you’ve always wanted!”
“It’s what you’ve always wanted!”
My father went rigid at the accusation in my voice, but I wouldn’t back down. Not on this. It was too important.
“I will not allow you to throw away a future we’ve all worked so hard for on some bullshit teenage rebellion crap. I thought we’d passed that by with you. I thought you had your head on straight. I don’t know where this newfound defiance has come from or what inspired your recent lazy streak, but it ends now. You will get yourself together and get back on track or, so help me, you will not like the consequences.” My father’s face was bright red and his entire body shook with suppressed anger. “Get to your room. Now!”
Part of me wanted to plant my feet and keep talking until I could make him hear me, but it wouldn’t happen. He’d never listen, no matter what I said. None of it would make a difference to him. The other part of me that just wanted to be as far away from him as humanly possible took the chance to escape and booked it to my room as fast as my feet could carry me.
With the way they looked when I bailed, I knew they’d both be up for a while still. I couldn’t risk calling Elijah and having my father overhear, so I pulled out my cell and shot him a quick text.
They never listen.
His reply came almost instantaneously.
Take it things didn’t go well?
Not exactly. Pretty sure I’m grounded for the rest of my natural born life.
But they let you keep your phone?
They’re new to this grounding thing. Let’s just hope they don’t figure it out.
House arrest hasn’t stopped us before. When can I see you again?
I craved his presence, his touch, the sound of his voice, his laugh, and even those damn dimples. I craved them like a drug. And the drug . . . I craved it, too. I longed not to care, not to keep hearing my father’s angry words echoing through my brain, not to feel them scrape away at my heart just a little bit more each time. Not to feel guilty, and hurt, and angry and alone. But . . .
I’ve probably tempted fate a little too much this weekend.
You’ll be at school tomorrow, right?
Of course I will.
Of course you will. I’ll see you there, then. Sweet dreams, Rylie.
Good night, Elijah. See you tomorrow.
I hated saying goodbye to him. It left me alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that plagued me through the night and straight into the break of day. When my alarm went off, my eyes were puffy and sore. I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t cry. Not for people who didn’t understand me, didn’t even try to understand me, and didn’t care. It hadn’t mattered. Sometime in the dark the thoughts and words of failure and disappointment overwhelmed me and I surrendered to them.
***
Worn out and weary, the last thing I wanted was to find Carrie and Angela staking out my locker like a pair of the Queen’s guards.
“I called you like a billion times. What happened? We had plans and you completely blew us off, Ry.” Carrie upset was a rare sight and it gnawed at my gut that I’d been hitting ignore on calls from both her and Angie all weekend, but I really hadn’t been up to talking to them.
“Your name isn’t on the schedule for the meet this weekend.” Angela’s tone rang with accusation.
“I know.”
“You know? What is going on with you, Rylie?” She flipped her golden hair over her shoulder and folded her arms. Angie wasn’t big enough to be intimidating physically, but the girl wore an air of self-importance that could make even full grown men want to cower.
“Nothing. I . . .” There was no use hiding it from them. They’d know soon enough anyway. Everyone would. “I’ve been benched.”
“Benched?” Evidently, everyone would know now seeing as my two so-called friends had teamed up to announce it to the entire student body.
Angela pressed her lips together and huffed, reestablishing her composure. “You’re the best runner on the team by far. Why on earth would Coach Stabler bench you?”
I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself in it. “He thinks I need to focus on academics.”
“Why does he think that?” Carrie’s perfectly plucked brows drew together in confusion.
“Because . . .” Kill me now. “I flunked a chemistry exam.”
“What?” Two pairs of eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.
Surprised? Yeah, me, too. I wanted to tell them the whole story—the whole truth—but I couldn’t. It was too humiliating.
“Guess that explains why Coach was looking for you this morning.” Carrie tugged on her hair and glanced around. She was never one for confrontation, but Angela had no problem making her displeasure known.
“I can’t believe you let this happen. The whole team’s going to suffer now. There goes our chance at regionals.”
I bit back the urge to lash out at her. To tell her that none of this was my fault. That I didn’t like this anymore than she did. To apologize for my life coming apart being such an inconvenience to her.
“I better go see Coach if he’s looking
for me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Coach Stabler was rifling through a filing cabinet in the corner when I stopped to knock on his open door.
“Rylie. Come in.” He moved to his desk. “Have a seat.”
I did as I was told and waited for him to say something to break the awkward tension. He appeared to be waiting for me to do the same.
“Angela mentioned you were looking for me.” This was his show. If I started talking first there was a good chance there would be some serious groveling involved.
“I was.” He paused and sighed. “I assume you’ve spoken with your father?”
Been spoken to was more like it. A conversation was evidently too much to ask for, but . . . “I have.”
“Look, Rylie, I know you and your father aren’t happy with my decision in this matter. I must admit, I’m a bit disappointed myself. But there are times when my role as coach, and even as a friend, has to take a backseat to my academic commitment to students. Even if they aren’t mine.” He folded his hands and leaned his elbows on the desktop. “I spoke with Mr. Parson. He seems to think that you could benefit from fewer . . . distractions. And I can’t say I disagree.”
This can’t be happening.
There has to be a way to make him see.
Something I can do.
I can work harder, practice harder, study harder.
I can . . .
I can’t.
Because I’m no longer the one in control of my future.
There was only one person who could clean up the shattered remnants of my life, and I knew what it was he wanted to make that happen.
“Coach, please. I have a plan. I’m working on a submission for Science Weekly. And I’m coming up with ideas for the International Science Talent Search—”
“That sounds like an excellent plan. And putting aside running for a couple of months will help you focus on that.”
I was focused. I’d always been focused. My entire life. How could it be that one bad grade was enough to wipe out years and years of straight A’s?
“I need—”
“My decision is final, Rylie. I’ve already filed the paperwork. Someday you’ll understand.”
Why did adults always think that was the end-all of explanations? Someday you’ll understand. Like one day I’d just hit that magical age of enlightenment and suddenly every bad, misguided decision any adult had ever made for me would suddenly make sense? Life couldn’t possibly be that simple.
It was, however, the end-all of the conversation. Dragging myself from the chair, I trudged toward the door without a word.
***
“You’ve been crying.”
Seriously? That was not the first thing you wanted to say to a girl at the end of an extraordinarily long Monday.
“Gee, thanks a lot, Elijah. I look that bad?”
I headed for the nearest bathroom to check for myself, but a sharp tug on my arm brought me up short. “Stop it. You look beautiful. I can just tell. What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“I can’t . . . I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to forget for a while. Could you . . . could you help me forget?”
“Ry, sometimes forgetting isn’t the best solution. Why don’t you try talking to me?”
“Elijah, please. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.” I’d been forced to throw my lunch in the trash after the sight of it triggered my gag reflex. “I feel like I can’t breathe. Everyone’s mad at me and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to make them happy. I don’t even know how to make me happy.” I started rubbing at the aching tension growing in my neck. “The constant stress and guilt—”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” He brushed my hands aside and dug into my tight muscles with magic fingers. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“But I do feel guilty. I do, and I can’t stop. I don’t know how to stop, Elijah.” I could feel my self-control slipping away along with everything else.
“Okay. Shh.” The exhaustion-fueled tears surprised me as Elijah pulled me close. “Can you come over for a little while?”
“My parents don’t get home until five-thirty.” I brushed away the tears and did a quick finger check for running mascara. I was all clear.
“Alright. We’ll go to my place for a bit. But, Ry . . . I think what you really need is some sleep.”
“I will. I’ll sleep tonight. I promise. Just help me relax a little bit.”
He didn’t look as thrilled about the prospect of having me alone in his bedroom again as I personally thought he should have, but at least he’d agreed.
“So, I was thinking about going to Rafe’s tomorrow with some of the guys . . . if you want to come.” Elijah and I stood in the parking lot, watching the slow moving string of cars making their way toward the exit. “I think Meg’s gonna be there.”
His tone implied it was unimportant, but I could tell my answer mattered to him. “Yeah. I’ll come.”
“Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
“I don’t know. I thought Rafe sort of freaked you out.”
“Maybe a little, but I want to spend time with you. Anywhere I can.” And I knew damn well they’d be smoking again.
He offered me a genuine smile that warmed me all over. “I want to spend time with you, too.”
“Then let’s go spend some time together.” I waggled my eyebrows at him like some kind of creep and climbed behind the wheel, letting him take from that what he would.
The sight of his hopeful and slightly confused face kept me laughing as I followed him all the way to his house.
At the front door I hesitated for only a fraction of a second to go inside—not sure who I might find waiting on the sofa in their undies—but Elijah noticed. He noticed everything.
“Andy’s not home,” he assured me, giving me a nudge through the door.
“Work?”
“Psh, that’ll be the day. My bet would be the bar. That and the unemployment office are just about the only two places he goes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s life. You either roll with it or let it crush you.”
“That was kind of poetic. In a completely warped, morbid sort of way.”
Elijah laughed, leading me down the hall. “That’s me, warped and morbid.”
“And poetic. Don’t forget poetic.”
“Right, how could I forget that?”
He flopped across his mattress on his belly, reaching underneath to produce another joint. Lighting it, he passed it to me for the first toke. It was probably psychological, but I could swear I felt the calming effects almost immediately. The anger, guilt, and stress just melted away as the words evaporated from my cloudy brain.
“Now,” he took a pull and passed it back to me again. “What was that whole eyebrow thing about back at school?”
“What do you think it was about?”
“Are you screwing with me?”
I passed him the joint and flopped down beside him, noticing for the first time the camera on his dresser.
“Will you take my picture?”
“What?”
“My picture. Will you take it? With your camera. You make everything look so beautiful.”
Elijah rolled over me, brushing hair from my face and planting his lips on mine. They slowly worked their way to the corner of my mouth and then down along my jawline. Stopping to suck gently on my earlobe and flick my pulse point with his wicked tongue, he reached my ear just about the time I started to squirm beneath him.
“You don’t need me to make you look beautiful.” His whispered words sent a bolt of pleasure straight through me and I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Twisting my neck, I sought out his lips with mine. Tongues tangled and danced seductively as hands dipped beneath the fabric barriers that lay between us.
My entire body was a raging mess, an
d the joint had long since burned out in the ashtray by the time the slamming front door drew us back to our senses. Elijah rolled off of me, breathing hard, as I adjusted my shirt and shorts.
“Andy’s home,” he grumbled.
“Shit, what time is it?”
“Oh crap.” He tugged his cell out of his pocket and woke the display. The numbers six-thirty-seven shone back at us, cheerily announcing my imminent demise.
“Crap.” I dropped my head back against the mattress and shut my eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Go home and figure it out, I guess.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“I’m not really seeing how that would help.” Elijah frowned and I instantly felt terrible. Clearly the drugs were out of my system. “Thank you for the offer, though. And for today. It was exactly what I needed.”
“Text me later if you still have your phone, okay? And if you’re having trouble sleeping, you can always call me, you know?”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” I dropped a quick kiss on his delicious lips and headed for the door, anxiety already threatening to crush me from the inside out.
“Let me walk you out.”
Elijah’s escort services ended up being unnecessary when Andy was nowhere to be seen, but appreciated nonetheless.
“Text me later?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good luck.”
I grimaced and slid behind the wheel. “Thanks.”
I was going to need more than luck to get through tonight. What I needed was an alibi. My eyes landed on the duffle bag in my backseat, filled with the stuff I cleared out of my track locker. If I could sell it, I might just have the perfect solution.
Chapter Eighteen
“What did we tell you? Home and school. That’s it. You are grounded!”
“I didn’t break the rules. I was at school.”
“Until seven o’clock at night? When your father hears about—”
“Where is he?”
“At work. But don’t think I won’t be telling him about this little stunt.”
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