by Maya Hughes
Two years.
My heart skipped triple time, like ladder drills at noon in August.
“Marisa, tell me more about the program. It sounds important to you.” Coach leaned in, resting his chin on his fist.
“Now you care? Just in time to disappear for another week. How about I save you some time? Awesome dinner as always.” She got up, glaring at both of us, re-buttoned the coat she hadn’t taken off and stormed out of the house.
The door slammed shut behind her. We were left in the dead silence.
I slid my chair away from the table. “Thank you for dinner, Coach.” I grabbed my coat and took off after her.
“Marisa!” I called out to her from half a block away.
She stopped for a second before charging ahead.
I jogged after her and jumped in front of her, blocking her path. “Wait. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”
Her lips pinched tight and then her shoulders dropped. She stared into my eyes, worry swimming in them. “You really don’t think I should go?”
“I never said that.”
“Then why did you freak and go so quiet?”
“I was caught off guard. When you were talking.” I scrubbed my hands over my chin. “I missed the two years part.” I held onto her arm and guided her back toward my car.
She rubbed her hands together, fishing under her coat sleeves for her long-sleeved ones. “Yeah, two years. It’s an amazing opportunity. They only give out one fellowship a year. Henri’s finishing up his first year.”
“Henri—awesome. Great.” It landed flat with a splat.
Her eyebrows dipped, staring back at me over the roof of my car.
“I mean, great!” I threw more enthusiasm into my voice. “You’ll have someone who can show you the ropes and you’ll be working with him for a whole year.” An art history guy with an accent, who’d already been showing her around Europe. I could see the social media post of the two of them making out under the Eiffel Tower with a tasteful, antique diamond ring on her finger.
I peeled away from the curb and swung a U-turn, heading toward our house.
“Why are you so upset?”
“No reason, just my best friend leaving for Italy for half a decade.”
“Math much? It’s two years. I was in New York for a year and you barely noticed I was missing.”
“I noticed.” The brutal freshman football season and practices, as well as a full course load of classes, had been the only things that kept me from taking the train up to visit her every other weekend.
“With all the partying you’ll be doing, it’ll fly by. Champagne. Strippers. Trashing hotel rooms. And then I’ll be back.”
“Why are you saying this shit?” My annoyance amped up—at her and myself. I’d been so fixated on her legs I’d blanked the whole “moving an ocean away” part of the conversation, but she was talking like she didn’t even know me.
“It’s the truth.”
“Rock stars trash hotel rooms, not football players. Reece isn’t partying like a maniac.”
“Reece and Seph are practically married. Of course he’s not out living it up and making it rain.”
“And what makes you think I’d be doing that?”
She shrugged.
I pulled up to the front of the house. “You think I’m going to turn into a different person? This isn’t my chance to transform into some Grade A asshole. I’m digging my parents out from under their bills, helping Quinn with college. That’s what it means for me.”
“I forgot. You’re the saint and I’m the jerk.” She grabbed the handle.
I jammed my finger into the door lock button. “Why would you say that? You saved my dad’s life, stop trying to pretend anyone thinks you’re a jerk.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “Let me out.”
“No, we’re going to talk.”
She flicked the button and I hit mine again.
“Are you holding me prisoner?”
“Hardly.”
“I’m the one who should be upset. You weren’t even listening when I asked you about Italy.”
“I’m sorry. I screwed up. I was…distracted. Now tell me why you don’t think I should be upset about you leaving for two years.”
“All I’m doing is leaving first.” She jerked the handle and flung the door open, slamming it shut, abandoning me in the slowly-fading glow of the overhead light.
After graduation we were supposed to have all the time in the world. After graduation we were supposed to finally have our chance. But after graduation she was running to Europe and ready to say goodbye.
10
Marisa
The crowd at Archer’s was heavy for a Tuesday night. Techno Tuesday came with $2 rail drinks and music loud enough to drown out most conversations until the happy hour ended at nine. After dinner at Ron’s last week, I’d successfully avoided LJ. It helped that I’d only had to do it for three days, and I’d taken a tutoring session on Thursday instead of our traditional movie night. After that, he’d been gone from Friday morning until yesterday afternoon.
But I wasn’t here to drink. I was here to dance and hang out with Liv. I’d had enough experience to know that drinking to dull the pain or numb myself would lead to a shitstorm of epic proportions. It didn’t mean I never drank. But never alone, never enough to get more than a little tipsy, and never to escape what was happening in my life.
She tapped out a message on her phone and slipped it back into her bra. “Ford says he’ll stop by after he’s finished at the rink.”
“Awesome, we can party all night.”
“Are you sure you want to be here tonight?” Liv shouted in my ear and took a sip of her drink.
“Why wouldn’t I want to be here?” I threw my arms up over my head and jumped around to the music.
“Because you look like you’re trying so hard to have fun.”
“I’m having fun. I’ve got my water. I’ve got great music. I’ve got my best friend.” I flung my arm around her and tugged her close and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Now I know something’s wrong. What the hell did LJ do to piss you off?”
“Why do you think this has anything to do with him?” I laughed at her out-of-nowhere question. I hadn’t talked about him the whole night.
“Because you haven’t mentioned him once. Not the first three games of the season. Not what movie you watched on Thursday. Not something he’s done to annoy you.”
Dammit. Did I really talk about him that much? Stupid LJ. “So what?”
“And you just called me your best friend.”
“You are.”
She leveled her gaze at me like a disappointed coach. “Plus, he and Keyton got here about twenty minutes ago and he hasn’t come over here and jumped onto your back or anything, but he’s checked you out at least fifty times.”
I whipped around, putting ballerina Liv to shame—well, probably not even close, but a girl could dream. Good thing I hadn’t had a sip of booze or I’d have had the spins for the rest of the night.
Sure enough, the two of them were at the bar. Of course, they were gaining the attention of more than one of the groups of women over there.
In full T-Rex mode, I made it to LJ and leaned my back against the bar, resting my elbow beside his beer. “What are you doing here, LJ?”
Liv popped up beside me.
He whirled around like a contestant in a beauty competition with big, Barbie eyes. “Marisa? What are you doing here? We had no idea you were here.” He slapped the back of his hand against Keyton’s shoulder. “Did you know Marisa was here?”
Keyton shook his head and sipped his beer, evading my gaze.
“You had no idea I was here? Cut the crap.”
“I can’t go out?” LJ clinked a beer with Keyton who looked uncomfortably bored. “Archer’s is the closest bar to the house with good music, why wouldn’t we come here? It’s not like I decided to come because I knew you were here.”
Leas
t convincing acting ever. Almost as bad as our seventh-grade class performance of Peter Pan. “Then why’d Liv say you were watching me?”
“What? Me? Never. I maybe saw someone out on the dance floor who maybe looked like you and squinted a few times to see if maybe it was you, but I couldn’t tell with all the spinning and arm flailing. Just here to have a beer and hang out with my roomie. Right, Keyton?”
I lasered in on Keyton, who set his beer down without looking my way. “Yup, just like he said.”
“Fine, as long as you’re not in watchdog mode, I’m going to go have some more fun with my bestie. Let’s go, Liv.”
Linking my arm through hers, I turned us back toward the dance floor.
“That was cold.” She checked over her shoulder. “He looks like you just told him there’s no Santa.”
A rumble of regret raced through me. “Don’t take his side. I sat down for a heart-to-heart with him about the next two years of my life and apparently he was running through football plays in his head. And then he made me second guess the whole thing while I was sitting in front of Ron. He’s supposed to be there as part of my united front.”
The sea of people on the dance floor was more of a pond, so it wasn’t like I could avoid seeing LJ.
“Shouldn’t you be the least bit happy he’s worried or sad you’re planning on leaving?”
“Why is he so shocked? He’s leaving at the end of this year. Am I supposed to stay behind as the girl pining—waiting around for him to call me or throw me a few free tickets for his next game?” I wasn’t going to be the pathetic person chasing after him, vying for a crumb of his attention when he’d moved on. I’d seen my mom go on that path over the years with guys whose faces I couldn’t even remember, let alone their names, and all it led to was her crawling deep inside a bottle.
“No, but…” Her gaze drifted to where the two of them sat at the bar.
I followed it and LJ snapped forward. “It hurts to think about losing my best friend.” All the convincing, all the preparation, all the reminders wouldn’t lessen that hurt.
She clutched her hand to her chest. Her mouth hung open with mock outrage and she shouted into my ear. “I thought I was your best friend.”
I rolled my eyes and swatted at her shoulder.
Bracing her hands on my arms, she stopped our barely-dancing and looked from me to LJ. “Then maybe you should stop pushing him away and enjoy what time you have left.”
My heart tripped like I’d knocked into a priceless statue at the museum, and could only watch as it smashed to the floor. Eight months left.
Without saying a word, I left the floor and headed to the spot LJ and Keyton had been hanging. Probably slid into a table to talk to a fan or out on the dance floor to make me jealous. Not that he’d want to make me jealous. Not that I would be.
I leaned over the bar. “Did you see where the two guys who were sitting here went?”
The bartender gestured in the general direction of the bathrooms.
“Figures, they’d go together like two gossipy chicks.” I wove my way through the tables and past the people crossing in front of me on the way to dance.
The hallway with the bathrooms was empty. I’d camp out and wait for them to come out. A step into the hall, someone slammed into my back, nearly knocking me off my feet.
Catching myself against the wall, I glanced over my shoulder prepared to lay into the asshole who’d bumped into me. Instead, the words caught in my throat.
Blocking my exit was the six-foot-four, three-hundred-pound offensive tackle who was no longer my tutoring problem. He was a different problem. A much angrier, drunker problem.
“You stupid bitch. All I asked you to do was take a fucking test for me.” Chris staggered and breathed on me with drunk dragon breath.
I jammed my back against the painted brick wall behind me. My exits were all behind him. Dealing with drunks wasn’t anything new for me, but I was used to the ones who landed their blows with words.
“Hey, Chris, long time no see. How was your summer?” I tried to keep it light to buy some time.
Of course this would be the one night there wasn’t a line out both bathrooms. It’s what I got for coming on Techno Tuesday.
“Fuck you.” Spittle clung to his lip.
“You seem like you’ve had enough, maybe you should get some sleep.” I looked over his shoulder to the light at the end of the darkened hallway with people milling around, laughing and drinking, the music drowning out even my own thoughts.
“You think you’re hot shit living with Berk, LJ, and Keyton. I bet you do all their work for them. Probably blow them all too.”
Stepping back, I clenched my fists at my sides, waiting for someone to see what was going on, so I could get past this drunk idiot.
“Don’t be a dick, Chris. You’re drunk; let me get past.” I tried to walk around him, but despite how drunk he was, he was faster and blocked the sliver of space that had been my exit plan.
“Hey!” I waved my hands over my head, trying to get someone’s attention.
I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off him.
One push from his palm and I went flying, slamming straight into the dead-end wall behind me. It wasn’t far, but it crushed the air from my lungs like an empty soda can underfoot.
I bent at the waist, heaving to suck in a complete breath. “You’re right. I was an asshole and I’m sorry.” My words were wheezes, barely audible even to my own ears. Apologies were sometimes the only way to get people that drunk to back down. Giving them the satisfaction of being right and backing off could give you an escape from their alcohol-enhanced need for recognition.
His droopy gaze narrowed. “I don’t want your fucking apology.” He leaned in closer, the biting stench of his breath flooded my nostrils and bile raced for my throat.
I jerked back, nearly slamming my head into the bricks.
His hands tightened around my upper arms, gripping them in a bruising hold.
I opened my mouth to scream at the same moment the bathroom door opened. The light from inside, blinded me. Two forms stood in the lighted doorway. “Help.” Frantic whisper eeked out of my closing throat.
Before I could say another word, the pressure on my arms was gone, and so was Chris.
A fist connected with his nose.
LJ rushed in and cupped my cheeks in his hands, searching my face with wild eyes.
Absolute and complete relief swamped me. Only then could I let a fragment of fear invade my brain flashing through what could’ve happened.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His nostrils flared, but he kept his attention on me and his back to the shouts breaking through the thumping beat.
Stunned, I stared over his shoulder at the fight unfolding. Another hit was so hard, Chris’s head bounced off the wall. The barrage kept coming. The sounds of wet hits turned my stomach.
A flash of recognition stole over me. I tried to process everything happening in front of me and what had almost happened to me.
Keyton. It was Keyton. Keyton, who looked seconds from ending Chris in the bathroom hallway.
“Stop him.” I grabbed at LJ’s shirt.
He ripped his gaze from me and turned, keeping me behind him.
“Keyton.” I screamed his name, trying to get him to stop.
His words traveled over the booming music far better than mine had. “You put your hands on her like that? You think you can touch her, you piece of shit? Why don’t you hit me?”
I shoved at LJ, trying to get past. My fear changed course in a matter of seconds. The panic wasn’t for me, but what was being done on my behalf.
“He could kill him.” I squeezed LJ’s arm, trying to force past him.
The muscles in LJ’s jaw worked before he stepped in, grabbing Keyton’s arm, stopping him from landing another blow.
Keyton whirled on LJ pulling his punch at the last second. His gaze clouded by a rage I’d never seen before.
I rocked back
, still keeping myself upright against the onslaught of adrenaline hammering in my veins. He’d almost hit LJ, almost taken him out like he expected to get piled on.
His eyes cleared and he looked to the sniveling Chris, bloodied and beaten on the ground. Hands clenched at his sides, his chest heaved and his gaze flicked from Chris to us. The thunderous expression clouding his face gave way to horror and embarrassment.
Without saying a word, Keyton backed up, racing from the hall before disappearing out into the club. I didn’t even get to tell him thank you.
Chris picked himself up off the floor and wiped his bloodied nose with the back of his hand, glaring before running off.
The muscles in LJ’s neck strained. With his gaze red with rage, he stepped toward the direction of Chris’s retreating figure.
I tightened my fingers around his arm. “Take me home, L.”
He jolted and glanced over at me.
Staring into his eyes, I begged him with mine to get me out of there.
I needed to get back to the house, get under the blankets. “Shit, Liv! She’s still here.”
LJ glanced around and waved his hand in the air and pointed to me and the front of the bar.
Glancing past him, I spotted Liv at the bar with Ford.
She shot up off her stool.
I waved her off and patted LJ’s chest, tucking myself against him.
Ford glanced from us to Liv. She lowered herself back to her stool.
With his arm around my shoulder, LJ guided me out of the bar watching everyone’s movements like he was my own personal bodyguard.
My phone vibrated in my front pocket.
Liv’s messages were probably rolling in five at a time.
The ten-block walk was silent beside my sentry. A shudder raced through me, and I tried to push away how badly things could’ve gone tonight.
He tightened his arm around me, his head whipping from side to side to take on anyone.
I squeezed him for the last half block. Holding on kept me from thinking too much, from digging too deep into what could’ve happened, from being too scared.
