by S M Olivier
I gave her a pointed look and she batted her eyelashes at me and grinned.
Remy, Drake, Will, and Noah came back in the room decked out in Kingstown High School and College garb. I stopped to look at them and had a surreal feeling, not believing this was my life now.
Remy handed me an older looking well-worn hoodie. It was powder blue and soft from the many washes it has been through; broken in as only a well-loved piece of clothing could be. The writing was distressed, but I liked it. “It’s cold out there, you should bundle up.”
“Man,” Noah sucked his teeth. “Nobody wants to wear that beat down sweatshirt. You should have donated it long ago. Stop clinging to the old days when you use to play. I can get you a newer one. A better one from my closet,” Noah grinned at me.
I pulled it on and took a deep breath. It smelled good. It smelled of fresh detergent, dryer sheets, and faintly of Remy’s woody smell. “I like it, it’s charming,” I said as I rolled the sleeves up a little bit.
Remy gave Noah a smug look. “At least I played football. What did you do? Dance?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Noah held up a hand with mock indignation. “I’ll have you know these hands are surgeon's hands. I couldn’t damage my money makers. Besides,” he winked at me. “I never went to a dance alone.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise me. I had seen him do that mock strip tease, and I could see him picking an activity that the male to female ratio was low. He would have been surrounded by girls all the time. He definitely threw out the stereotypes of male dancers being effeminate. There was no doubt he was a testosterone driven male.
“What are you wearing? Is that Remy’s favorite hoodie!? It looks like a dress on you,” Jemmy said as she came down the stairs carrying hats, scarfs, and gloves for us. “Seriously, I can go grab another one of mine.”
“I want one,” Ella cried out.
“There you go. Ella can wear it,” I smiled. “I’m wearing this one,” I smiled up at Remy. Somehow, I didn’t think it was often that he did thoughtful gestures.
“Let’s go,” Will clapped his hands. “Remy, Noah, and Blake you’re with me.”
I sighed inwardly knowing the car ride to the game wasn’t going to be a fun one.
Jemmy looked at us all and said. “Okay, well, I can take Ella with me.”
Ella, wearing Jemmy’s grey hoodie that fell to her knees, seemed happy with that prospect.
“You guys can ride with me,” Drake offered as he stuffed his hands into his jeans.
“No, thank you,” Jemmy cut Rose a nasty look.
“Okay, who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” Will looked expectantly at Remy sitting beside him. Then in the rearview mirror at Noah and me.
“I made a connection last night,” I said flushing red as I looked out the window. I imagined this was worse than the birds and the bees talk that I never received.
It was embarrassing enough that he knew I had six connections, and I would have to be intimate with them to form the connection. Drake and I had only kissed to get my first connection, but who knew if it would be that easy next time around? I imagined if people had to tattoo or announce the number of people they were intimate with, or could be intimate with, they would be a lot choosier and mindful of their actions. I had no choice if I wanted to fulfill my destiny. My actions shouldn’t negatively affect other people’s lives, so I had to see this through.
Will gave a shocked and amused glance over at Remy. “Is that why you got home early? As private as you are about your…” he flushed with embarrassment as he looked at me. “Well, anyways, I never expected you to be first.”
Remy gave me a sympathetic look, obviously seeing my embarrassment. “It wasn’t me. I just…felt it.”
“Felt it?” Will looked mystified. “So, it was Jax then, but wasn’t Tamara there last night? No wonder Zach was so insistent I tell him everything about you.” He looked at me then over at Noah. “So, he finally decided to break it off with Tamara. It’s about time,” he gave a short laugh. “Never did like Zach, his connections, or their children.” He cleared his throat. “Well…enough about that. What did you mean by feeling it?”
Might as well treat it like a band-aid and rip it off. He wouldn’t stop until he heard it all. I buried my red face in my hands and said in a muffled voice, “It was Drake, and we only kissed. We made the connection by kissing. When we connected, I saw it. They felt it. All of them felt it. It seemed to drain me of all my energy, and when I woke up this morning, I could feel Drake’s emotions. Jemmy had an argument with Rose earlier, and it hurt Drake. Old memories came up and they pained him. I felt the hurt. I couldn’t breathe it hurt so much.”
Will looked over at Remy as if he wanted confirmation of the story. Noah even looked stunned by the new revelations. “Do you think things like this will continue happening to her if we continue connecting with her? Do you think she would be able to feel all of us once we’re connected?”
Will rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
I was determined to enjoy my first football game experience, despite the fact that we were all left wondering what was going to happen next. The stadium was getting packed when we got there, and the hum in the air was contagious. We followed the crowd as we made our way to the stadium. I could see splashes of powder blue, grey and white, mixed with the opposing team's colors of red, black, and grey. From the raucousness exhibited by some of the fans, I had a feeling they had been drinking before the game.
I was surprised when Remy reached out to grab my hand as the crowds started to push us forward. He pulled me into the curve of his body. I realized he didn’t want me to get lost or pushed by the crowd, especially since it looked like we were now surrounded by the other team’s fans. I looked behind me to see that Drake had hoisted Ella onto his wide shoulders and she was grinning ear to ear. Noah had his arm over Jemmy’s shoulder, making sure no harm came to her.
As we wove our way through the crowd and into the stadium, we could see a man waving at Will.
“That’s the coach,” Remy murmured in my ear.
Will made his way up front and had a few words with the coach before shaking his hand. He then turned and motioned us forward. We were pleasantly surprised to see that the coach had made sure the president of the school and father of the all-star quarterback had a row of seats reserved for him in front, behind the players and cement wall.
“He normally doesn’t like preferential treatment,” Remy explained as he allowed Will, Drake, Rose, Noah, Jemmy, then Ella in before him. “If anything, he always encouraged the coaches and teachers to be harder on us.”
I slid in next to Ella. “It doesn’t surprise me,” I murmured. “I vaguely remember what he did to me when I was in the institute.”
Ella chose that moment to tug on my sleeve. “Can I sit with Drake?”
I looked over at Drake and pointed at Ella and then him. He nodded, understanding my unspoken question. He smiled his gentle smile and nodded as he held his arms out to Ella. She was quick to jump up and move to Drake’s lap.
Remy gave me a gentle squeeze around my shoulders. “Jace and Jax used to tell me stories. It sounded like he did cross the line at times, but he had meant well. He can be tough and demanding, but he cares for us. All of us. Honestly, I think he’s softened quite a bit since Jemmy came around, and he’s a total softie around Ella. Time has mellowed him and shown him the error of his ways.”
“When did you move in with him?” I enquired.
A shuttered look came over his eyes, I was treading in uncharted territories. Or at least a territory he didn’t like traveling in. “I was fourteen,” he said quietly, and I knew that was the last question he would answer on that topic.
“Hey, is there room for me?” a familiar voice queried in our direction.
I looked up surprised to see Troy at the end of our row. He looked handsome in a white Knightstown sweatshirt, blue jeans, and a white beanie. I have come to
the realization that I had yet to see him in any color that made him look bad. In white, he looked tanner, and it was October for Pete’s sake!
“Hey!” I smiled. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until Sunday?”
He gave me one of his smooth smiles. “I missed my girl and my little brother’s playing his last game of his high school career. I couldn’t miss it and I needed to get back to you, so I wrapped things up early and came back. Now, scoot down,” he told me, so I was sitting between Remy and him.
I rolled my eyes at him. “You think you are so smooth. I’m sure those lines worked in the past, but I have a great bullshit detector.”
Remy roared with laughter, which I had never seen or heard him do. “She so has your number,” he grinned as he put his arm on the back of my chair, his hand gently threading through my hair.
I didn’t know if he consciously played with my hair, but I realized he did it often. Not that I minded. His big hands contrasted with his gentle, light touches. The pad of his thumb was rough against my smooth skin. It was an erogenous touch for me. The hair on my arms stood on end.
Troy clutched at his heart as he gave me an upset look. “You wound me with your words!”
“You are just as dramatic as Jemmy. I wonder where she got it from,” I said tartly.
Remy chuckled once more and shot Troy a smug look.
Jemmy chose that moment to launch herself across our laps. “Troy!” she exclaimed. “It feels like it’s been forever!”
“It’s been less than two days,” Troy said dryly as he tweaked her nose.
“Forevvvver!” she cried dramatically, throwing an arm over her eyes.
“See what I mean,” I winked at Remy.
He chuckled, and I was struck by how sexy he looked when he laughed. The hard planes of his features looked softer, more approachable.
“You’re in talking time out,” Troy growled playfully. “Don’t talk to me for five minutes.” He held up five fingers, crossed his arms, and stared straight forward.
I deduced that a ‘talking time out’ was his refusal to talk to me for five minutes. Like it was an actual punishment.
“Uh oh,” Jemmy blinked up at me from Troy’s lap. “What did you do?” she asked in mock horror.
“Oh, you know,” I said tongue in cheek, with a smile and a raise of my eyebrows. “I just told him how you both must have attended the same drama clubs because you guys are both so dramatic.”
Jemmy clutched her heart, the same way Troy did, and gasped. “You’re so in talking time out with me too!” She held her thermos up to Troy. “Coffee? It’s my special kind.”
He took a sip of it, raised an eyebrow at her, and then continued to take another sip.
“Too bad the timeout doesn’t work for your mouth too,” I giggled.
I could feel Remy’s shoulders shaking with laughter, clearly amused that I was teasing them mercilessly.
She looked at me and pulled her features to a stern expression. In a little, high-pitched voice she said, “Blake, I love you, dear. You know that, but sometimes I don’t know why you like to push people’s buttons just to see what their reactions are. Some may argue that your mother abandoning you made you feel like you must irrationally lash out at other people.”
My jaw dropped as I realized she had remembered Rose’s earlier words verbatim. “Silly girl,” I responded. “I never knew my mother and maybe your attempts at psychoanalyzing me is your way of trying to mask your own insecurities.” I smiled at her conspiratorially.
She threw back her head onto Troy’s lap and cackled. “So true! So true!”
The guys looked highly confused and almost looked pissed at Jemmy for talking to me in that way, but I gripped both of their arms. “It’s a long story,” I giggled. “I’ll explain it later.”
“I’m sorry to break up this weird orgy fest going on here, but may I squeeze past you guys so I can sit next to my boyfriend?” A feminine voice said snidely.
I looked over, my smile dying; great, another one of my guys’ bitchy girlfriends. Long legs, slim body, long red hair, great skin, yup that was her. “If we are going to live harmoniously in the future, can you guys make sure any girlfriends you bring around aren’t bitchy. They are such buzzkills.” I hissed at Troy and Remy after she squeezed past us.
Both men’s eyes widened in surprise. Jemmy took one look at my sulky look and their shocked looks and laughed so hard, she cried.
Chapter 15
I don’t know why I never watched football before. I loved it! It was such an adrenaline rush watching Jax play. Remy and Troy patiently explained the game and basic rules to me. At first, I think they were humoring me, thinking I was just asking out of politeness and not interest. As soon as they saw how much I got into it, their tone changed. I cheered Jax on. I heckled the other team. I yelled at anyone that hit Jax, not that that happened often. He was a quick quarterback and very aware of his surroundings. He could evade most of the guys trying to take him down. Soon, I was asking them more questions, and they seemed impressed by how fast I understood the rules of the game.
Jemmy handed me a cup of steaming liquid and I sipped on it. It was delicious, and I allowed her to top me off whenever it got empty. As the game progressed, I didn’t know why I bothered with the sweatshirt any longer. I pulled it off and tied it around my waist.
“Where’s the holding call?!” I yelled at the ref on the field after a defensive guard rushed Jax and held him long after he released the ball.
“Relax, Princess,” Troy laughed. “He didn’t hurt him. He’s fine.”
“Remind me never to piss her off,” Remy jokingly murmured.
My green eyes flashed up to him. “That probably wouldn’t be a clever idea, especially since I can’t control my gift yet. My gift comes out to play when I’m pissed.” I said smugly.
He chuckled at me and shook his head.
I looked around, suddenly paranoid someone would hear me. I climbed up on the chair and grabbed his head before whispering in his ear. “How many players on the field are gifted? What prevents them from using their gifts on the field?”
I felt him stiffen for a moment as my lips touched his ear. He inclined his head to look at me and then narrowed his eyes. “On our team, probably seventy-five percent of them. On the other team, probably none. Maybe one, but we have a reader. They would have ‘seen’ any gifts that were hidden on the other team. When they find them, they are normally ones and twos. Most ones and twos don’t even realize they're gifted unless they have a family member that’s gifted.”
“What are you?” I asked as I grabbed his face. I screwed up my nose, trying to remember if I had ever seen his gift in action. “What is your gift?”
I barely noticed he was looking suspiciously at my cup and then at Jemmy. “Initial read was six, but in the last test I received, I was a seven. I’m abnormally strong. Blake, what is in the cup?”
“Pick me up! Let me see how strong you are,” I said excitedly.
He smirked, shaking his head. “Gift or no gift, that wouldn’t be that difficult. You’re as small as a fairy.” He grabbed my drink and took a sip of it.
I giggled. “Jemmy says I look like Silvermist, Tinker Bell’s fairy friend, she says you guys are my Lost Boys.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “That sounds about right. We are lost boys in so many ways. Did you mean to drink the coffee and Baileys? Are you buzzing?”
I blinked at him owlishly. How stupid could I be?! We had brought coffee and hot chocolate. I saw her spike one thermoses, but not all of them. I had assumed it was coffee with creamer, it was so smooth to drink. It went down too easy. In my experience, alcohol smelled horrendous, so it shouldn’t taste like that.
“Jemmy!” I yelled turning towards her, but my position on the seat wasn’t the greatest. I felt myself falling, but I didn’t have the reflexes to stop myself.
It was a good thing Troy was there to catch me.
After a heated discussion wit
h Remy, Jemmy came back to the seats contrite. Or as contrite as Jemmy could be. I forgave her quickly and decided to continue drinking. It kept me warm. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this free. My thoughts constantly plagued me. I overanalyzed everything, and I was over critical of myself. The more I sipped, the better I felt. The voice in my head was quiet.
The game was exciting. Both teams wanted the win. I was feeding off the energy around me. Everyone, except for Stacey (who looked thoroughly bored), was getting into the game. No one sat, everyone stood. They were down by three, and we had possession of the ball with two minutes and twenty-two seconds left in the game. We were on our own ten-yard line. They were fourth and goal.
Jax called a timeout before the play, and I could see the coach talking to them before they huddled up. When the timeout ended everyone got back into place. Even if Jax wasn’t the quarterback, I would have recognized him. He moved with athletic grace and fluidity. He had a certain way he walked, with confidence, his head held high and his shoulders back.
I watched in anticipation, my hands over my mouth as I saw Jax do a pump fake. He nimbly moved to his right looking for his receiver; his receiver was covered. He moved to the left, the defensive team was hot on his tail. He didn’t hesitate as he saw an opening, nimbly leaping over the other team’s player as he dove to tackle him. With quick feet, he ran into the end zone. We were up by six with three seconds on the time clock. The crowd went wild.
Jax’s teammates went to rush him and he gave them halfhearted slaps and hugs, but it was clear he was making a beeline to the sidelines. I watched as Tamara dropped her pom-poms and left the gaggle of other cheerleaders. She handed the blanket that she had been keeping warm with to her friends as they giggled and smiled at her. I couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. During the halftime show, she made some moves I couldn’t have done in my wildest dreams. Her long dark hair had been pulled up in a high ponytail and styled in long ringlets; powder blue, gray, and white hair clips added color to her hair. Her stomach was toned and on display under her form-fitting long sleeve cheerleading top. Her thighs and rear looked tight, like she never missed a squat day, under her short skirt.
