by Julie Cross
He pulled back a little and touched his forehead to mine. “Let’s not do that anymore. The thing where we think stuff and we don’t say it, okay?”
“Okay.” I kissed him then and put seven days of not kissing him into it, enjoying the feel of his hands in my hair, on my back, moving down my sides. Eventually, he nudged me until I was lying back sideways across the bed and he was half on top of me.
“In that case,” he said, breathless and adorable, “I have two confessions to make.”
“You don’t have more of my underwear, do you? Because a purple pair has gone missing.”
He shook his head. “No, I haven’t swiped any more panties. But I really, really don’t want to go to prom—”
“They why did you—”
He gave me a quick kiss on the mouth. “Because I know you’ll be busy and I won’t have to go. I know you’re going to kill it tomorrow and you’ll be in Rio on prom day and I’ll get to tell everyone I asked my girlfriend and she said yes but we’re not going because she’s busy now and I would never go with anyone else.”
“You really think I’m good enough?”
“I know you are.”
I smiled up at him. “Second confession?”
He stared at me for a long five seconds. “I love you.”
Some of the tiny pieces of my shattered heart glued themselves back together, just like that trophy Jordan and Blair had repaired. “I love you, too. Not just because you’ve helped me—which you have. Or because we have this common tragic past, but because you wanted to kiss me first and you’re humble and forgiving and so much more than anyone else gets to see. And because I keep having these fantasies about you speaking with an English accent.”
He laughed and kissed me again. “I’m not sure I should stay here all night. You probably need to actually sleep before your competition tomorrow.”
“We can sleep,” I said, hoping he wasn’t really going to leave.
He released me and sat up before pulling his T–shirt over his head. It hit the floor, and he froze when he saw my face. “What? I can’t sleep with a shirt on. You said we were sleeping…?”
I shook my head, diverting my eyes from his bare chest and kind of awesome abs. “It’s fine. I just had a moment of panic. It’s not Stevie’s living room with sleeping bags and Blair passed out on the couch. It’s not the kitchen with your dad and his newspaper and coffee. Teenagers alone in a hotel room, seems like it should be illegal or something.”
“I don’t think making it illegal would stop anyone.” Jordan settled into the pillows, pulling me beside him. I lay on my back, looking at the ceiling and not his half–undressed body. He turned on his side and picked up my hand, pressing my palm to his lips. “We’re still doing the thing where we say stuff instead of not saying it, right?”
“Right.”
His eyes stayed focused on my hand as he played with my fingers. “Sex—for the whole sixty or so seconds it lasted—was really great and all, but it’s just sex. I can’t put much value on those experiences, so I’m not in a hurry to go there, you know? Even mentally. I know guys are supposed to be thinking about sex every second of the day—”
“My dad told me that.”
His forehead scrunched up for a second. “Okay, if anyone asks, you should probably say that I’m just like that. I don’t want to appear to be extra sensitive or anything.”
I smiled. “Of course not.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Anyway, what’s cool about me and you is that I don’t really plan stuff. I don’t know what we’re going to do next any more than you do. I think it’ll happen on its own and we’ll both be ready for it. Whatever it is. The first time I kissed you, it was like that. I had no idea, when we arrived at that part, that I would leave thinking about you in a completely different way.”
“It totally freaked me out,” I admitted, laughing. “But then I was thinking about kissing you again right away.”
“Me, too.” His fingers slid under my T–shirt and rested on my belly button. “So, don’t be nervous about being here or being alone with me, because I don’t have a plan, and we’ll figure it out together. Like we have been all along.”
I closed my eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath. “Keep talking. A few more perfect lines and you’re bound to add tenths to my scores tomorrow.”
His ADD hands started moving over me and his lips were on my neck and he whispered, “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you,” I mumbled. “Especially without your shirt on. Do you even do any conditioning? I’ve never seen you do so much as a sit–up.”
“We have excellent physical education at my school.” He pulled his head up, watching me yawn. “I hate to say this, but you probably should get some sleep.”
I nudged him onto his back and rested my head against his chest. “I’m tired, but I don’t want to have any nightmares. I’m feeling too good to ruin it.”
He squeezed me tighter and kissed the top of my head. “You won’t. I’ll make sure you don’t.”
I squeezed him tighter, remembering what he had revealed to me the other day. “Then I’ll make sure you don’t either.”
Mom and Dad,
No more letters until I figure out where to send them. Right now they have nowhere to go.
Love, Karen
CHAPTER TWENTY–TWO
Some part of my brain processed the sound of the door opening in the morning, but I figured it was Blair, and I mentally checked off the concerns I should have with that, and Jordan and I were mostly dressed, on top of the covers, and not touching any of the “no zones.” I wasn’t too worried, and I let my brain begin to drift back to sleep.
That is, until I heard the sound of Coach Bentley coughing loudly. I peeled my eyes open and was met with the very shocked faces of Stacey, Bentley, and Nina Jones.
“Oh shit,” Jordan mumbled after lifting his head.
I had been curled up against him, his arms around me and my leg slung over his body. And he was shirtless. Just jeans.
We jumped apart and Jordan hung his head over the side of the bed, snatching his shirt from the floor. He had it on in record time and I’d pulled mine down because it had crept up during the night. My eyes zoomed in on the clock behind Stacey. It was only six thirty. We didn’t need to be at the arena until ten.
“What…” Nina stuttered, pointing a finger at Jordan. “Who…?”
That’s when I saw the two clear plastic cups Nina was holding in her left hand—random drug testing.
Stacey opened her mouth to answer and closed it after exchanging looks with Bentley.
My coach sighed and looked away from me and right at Nina. “This is my son, Jordan. Jordan, Nina Jones, National Team coordinator.”
Jordan sat near the end of the bed, wide–eyed and looking nearly as panicked as I felt. “Uh…hey…”
“Henry, you allow your son to sleep in hotel rooms with underage girls?” Nina snapped at Bentley.
“No,” Stacey said right away.
“First of all,” Bentley said, still speaking directly to Nina. “They’re both underage, and second, I had no idea he was here in Chicago. He’s supposed to be in school today. In St. Louis.”
Now Bentley turned to Jordan, and Jordan spoke up, but there wasn’t much to say except, “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, but why was I not aware that your son was having…” Nina waved her hand dramatically in the air. “…relations with one of my gymnasts.”
I am not her gymnast.
“We had no idea,” Stacey said, trying to somehow remedy this situation.
I was just now beginning to fight the urge to laugh. This was exactly everything Jordan and I had been trying to avoid.
“Actually,” Bentley said. “I had an idea. Just wasn’t sure if it was present or future.”
I felt my face heat up even more…He knew? How? Jordan looked just as surprised by that as me. He stood up and straightened his clothes.
“I think I should probably go,” Jordan
said. “Unless you need me to take one of those drug tests…?”
Nina glared at him, a mixture of fury and disgust on her face.
Bentley opened his wallet. He handed Jordan a room key. “Wait for me in my room. We have things to discuss.”
Jordan took the key with a long sigh and then gave me one last fleeting look before taking off. I sat there staring at the three of them, having no idea what to do or say.
Nina tossed her hands in the air. “That’s just great, Henry! Exactly what we need. A pregnant teen on the National Team. Might as well add a teen with an STD while we’re at it. That’ll bring on a whole new set of endorsement opportunities.”
My mouth fell open and I was sure I looked completely horrified. I hadn’t expected her to go there. I was fully clothed, after all. And Jordan still had jeans on. I wasn’t an expert on the subject, but I was pretty sure you had to take your pants off to get pregnant.
Stacey walked over and rested a hand on my arm. “Karen is smart and responsible. She’s never done anything to disprove that.”
“You mean besides having a boy sleep in her hotel room during a National Team training camp,” Nina snapped.
Bentley surprised me by rolling his eyes. “Karen’s seventeen. She’s not a child. I think you’re overreacting a bit. I’ll talk to Jordan. He won’t be sharing any more hotel rooms on USA Gymnastics’ dollar. I’ll have him pay back the cost out of his next check at the gym. Now, Karen has a competition to focus on, so if we could just let her do that…”
Nina stared at him for a long time, and I could see the wheels churning in her head. She couldn’t really use it against me. Maybe if I performed poorly today, but if that happened it wouldn’t matter what she blamed. She finally set the plastic cups on the dresser, turned around, and left without saying a word. Somehow I had gotten around the rule where a non–personal coach had to actually watch me pee in the cup.
The second the door closed, Stacey spun around to face Bentley. “You knew about this! And you didn’t think it was important to tell me?”
His arms folded over his chest. “I wasn’t sure. Until now.”
“Karen, I think we should have a talk,” Stacey said, then turned to Bentley again. “And you should have a talk with Jordan.”
“Jordan and I had that talk years ago.”
“Well, obviously it didn’t work!” Stacey said.
“Wait…which talk are you referring to?” Bentley asked.
Stacey let out frustrated breath, shaking her blond hair off her face. “The abstinence talk!”
“I had the safe sex talk with Jordan.” Bentley shrugged. “I thought only religious people gave the abstinence talk.”
“God, this is a nightmare.” I covered my face with my hands. “We aren’t…we didn’t…ugh!” I dropped my hands. “It’s not like that. Nothing to worry about, okay?”
“Good,” Stacey said, looking like she might actually believe me. “And just in case you haven’t thought it all out, I’ll be staying in here tonight. With Olivia. A night with a screaming baby should be very effective birth control for you.”
Great.
“Can I take my drug test now?” I pleaded.
“Fine,” Stacey said. “Be in Stevie and Ellen’s room in twenty minutes. I’m fixing everyone’s hair.”
***
I had no idea what to say to Bentley all during our team breakfast (which was so awkward because my teammates had heard about Jordan and yeah…) and the ride to the arena was nearly silent. I got through five more songs on Jordan’s playlist and loved it so much I was wondering where he was at the moment and if Bentley had been totally pissed off at him. He might have been calm for Nina and even Stacey, but that was probably just to keep himself from looking like he didn’t know what was going on with his gymnasts and his kid.
He sat next to me while I stretched before timed warm–ups began. “You’re making me nervous, Karen. I have no idea which version of you we’re going to see today.”
My face flamed again and I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “I just don’t know what to say. I mean…”
“You mean about Jordan?” He scooted closer, his blue warm–up pants crinkling in the process. He was decked out in his coach’s polo and official gym shoes, badge around his neck. It didn’t seem like we should be talking about me and Jordan at the moment, but it would just become this elephant that would keep growing bigger if we didn’t.
“Yeah, about Jordan,” I said.
“I’m not thrilled, considering the living arrangements, but I trust him and I trust you.” He smiled a little. “I probably trust you a tad more than Jordan. But mostly I’m glad that you have people like Jordan and Blair and Stevie in your life. You need them right now.”
“Jordan said you would kill him if you found out,” I admitted.
“I still haven’t ruled it out,” he said, grinning. “And I’m not looking forward to the breakup that is almost inevitable…” He paused for a second, thinking. “Although, I met Anna when I was Jordan’s age.”
“How did you meet her?” I had to ask. Even if just to tell Jordan later on, because I wasn’t sure he knew the answer either.
“Physical therapy,” Bentley said. “I was training for the summer in New York and she was at Juilliard. I blew out my knee and she battled with carpal tunnel syndrome.”
“From the cello?” I asked, feeling myself smile. “And then what?”
“I went back home to Chicago, started at Ohio State that fall, and she came to visit me and I went to visit her. We were barely twenty when she got pregnant with Eloise. Her parents were not happy. But we were.” He nodded to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. “We were happy. My parents were more relaxed about everything. They threw us a very casual wedding, and honestly, we had no money, no insurance. My career prospects depended on my body holding up, and music wasn’t exactly the most reliable career either. But Eloise came along and she was so perfect.”
I was already wiping the corner of my eyes, hoping that I wasn’t going to make my coach cry, too. I’d already caused him all kinds of issues this past week.
“Sometimes bad things happen at the worst time,” Bentley said. “But somehow, good things can come out of it. I don’t think kids your age should have babies or go without health insurance and get married at twenty, but it certainly isn’t the end of your life. And you learn as you go. That’s why Jordan’s birth was such a planned experience. Why struggle if you don’t have to? And I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson, too. I won’t ever have to worry about you stowing Jordan in your hotel room during training camp, right?”
“Right.” I looked up at him then, knowing that I had to do it. I had to ask him. “I need you to tell me something.”
“Okay.”
I took a deep breath. “I need to know where you put them—Anna, Eloise, your parents. Jackie, my therapist, says everyone puts people they lose somewhere in order to go on, and I haven’t exactly done that because I don’t really believe in God and I can’t fool myself into any other theory like heaven or hell, believe me, I’ve tried.”
He glanced up at the ceiling, and I thought maybe he was finally succumbing to his emotions, and he might have been, but he pulled it together before looking at me again. “I think I put them inside me. I used to be just like Jordan—wild and daring. And Anna was so calculated and careful, and somehow, after she was gone, I became that way too. And Eloise was the kindest, most loving child I’d ever seen. She wanted to save everyone and everything and when I heard about your parents, I knew that I wanted to be the one to take care of you, and then I realized that I had some of her in me, too.” He tapped my knee and smiled. “And you and your detective work, I’d say you’ve got a little of your dad in you. And the way you worry about Jordan, it’s a lot like your mom worried about you.”
“And Jordan and his music,” I said, thinking aloud. I tried to wipe my eyes and nose on my warm–up jacket, but then a smudge of black mascara on my s
leeve stopped me from finishing the job. Bentley reached over and rubbed his thumbs under both of my eyes.
“Thanks for telling me,” I said and he nodded. “I think I’m going to sign those papers. Sell my house. But I don’t want the money. I’m still angry about it, and even if I wasn’t, I don’t want to get paid because my parents were irresponsible one night. I think giving it away will make me feel better about it.”
“That’s completely understandable,” Bentley said, nodding.
“And I want you to use the money and pay Jordan’s tuition to Stanford,” I said quickly, knowing I’d never come up with a better use for that unwanted cash.
He shook his head. “That’s amazing of you to think about him, but we’ll figure it out.”
I stood up and glanced around at the arena, watching it begin to fill with people. “He wants to go more than anything, and he’s never going to say that, you know he won’t. He wants to go and I want to give my money away. What’s the problem?”
Bentley stood up beside me and dusted off his pants. “We can talk about this later. After the meet.”
“I’ll tell you what…” I stared out at the uneven bars. “You wanted to know which Karen you’ll see today, so here’s the deal. I hit my routines and make the Pan Am team and you let me use my money to pay his tuition, and we both promise to never tell him.”
Bentley focused on the bars, too, arms crossed, forehead wrinkled.
“Come on,” I pleaded. “You know you want to prove to Nina that your girls know how to do handstands and all that crap you need me to do today.”
He glanced at me again. “I can’t do this. It’s not right.”
“It’s just money, Coach. Car accidents and terrorist attacks—those are things that can destroy your future. But not having enough money? That’s a problem we can get around.”
He exhaled, giving away his concession. “It’s a deal if you place in the top three.”
I felt like jumping up and down, and then nerves hit me because I had to keep my end of the deal. And that was no easy feat. “We’re getting this in writing. I’ll draft a contract between events.”
