by Amber Garza
They’re a little shorter than what she normally wears, and my eyebrows shoot up. I sit up, eyeing the clothes in her hand. “You’re not wearing that.”
“Yes, I am. You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad.” Her defiant tone irritates me. Why is she being so rude when I’m trying to help?
“Well, maybe you need me to be.”
“Trust me, I don’t.”
“If your dad was home he’d never let you wear that.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say the minute the words leave my mouth. Her eyes flash, her jaw slacks.
“Lucky for me my dad is never home anymore, and when he is, he’s too busy fighting with Mom or brooding in his office to notice what the hell I’m wearing.” Anger radiates from her like a heater on full blast.
I instantly regret my behavior. “Hey.” I slide off the bed, and it creaks beneath me. Then I move toward her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She shakes her head, blinking back tears. “It’s fine. I just can’t deal with this right now, okay? I don’t know why you’re acting so weird, but I need you to stop. I need you to be my friend.”
Now I feel like an even bigger asshole. No matter what’s going on inside my head, no matter what demons I’m wrestling, I can’t take it out on her. “I’m sorry.” My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. She drops her head on my shoulder with a sigh. It causes my stomach to flip flop. “I’ll try to be more supportive.”
“I don’t understand why you have to try.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Haven’t I always been cool about all of your girlfriends?”
She has a point there. And I have no idea how to explain to her why I’m having such a hard time with this. I can’t admit that my feelings for her are starting to change. That I’m starting to fantasize about being more than just her best friend. That every time she’s in my arms I want to touch her in places I never have, I want to kiss her lips and stroke her face. I glance down at her knuckles that are white as she clutches my shirt in her fingers. Yeah, that’s not something I should share with her right now. I clear my throat in an attempt to clear my impure thoughts as well. “True, but Adam is known as being a player, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She shoves me back. “You don’t always have to protect me. I’m a big girl. I can make my own choices, my own mistakes. Girls have hurt you, haven’t they? It’s all part of growing up. You have to let me experience it.”
She’s right, but I hate admitting it. I hate this whole thing, actually.
“Cruz, I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Okay, I’ll back off.” I point my finger at her. “But if he hurts you in any way, all bets are off.”
“Deal.” She grins. “Now go so I can change.”
I stand still, wishing I could stay and watch her. When I glance down at the skimpy outfit hanging from her fingertips, I cringe. Adam is going to see her practically naked. And I know what thoughts will be running through the guy’s mind. “You’re still going to wear that, huh?”
She narrows her eyes. “Go.”
Sloane doesn’t need me to control her. She needs me to be her friend. Isn’t that what she just told me? And the last thing I want to do is push her away. That will only make her like Adam more. There’s no way Adam will come between Sloane and me anyway. What we have is too deep, too meaningful. It doesn’t matter how popular the guy is. Besides, Adam dates a new girl every week. It’s not like this is going to turn into anything serious. I hold up my arms in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m going. Have fun on your date.”
It takes all my willpower to turn around and walk out her bedroom door knowing that she’s going to wear that little outfit for Adam Stewart. It should be me she’s going out with tonight.
There, I admitted it.
Not to her, but at least to myself.
I want to be with Sloane. Not just as her friend, but as her everything. Damn, what am I going to do? I can’t tell her. What if she doesn’t feel the same way and I jack up our friendship? I can’t lose Sloane. I’d rather have her date Mr. Football Superstar forever than have her vanish from my life. The thought of a life without Sloane makes it difficult to breathe.
I need her.
I only hope she still needs me.
11
sloane
Adam and I walk down Sutter Street in Old Folsom together, both licking our ice cream cones. It’s warm today, but at least it’s not in the hundreds. A nice breeze billows around us. I dart out my tongue, catching my mint chip ice cream before it slides all the way down the cone. When I glance over at Adam who is licking his scoop of pink ice cream atop his cone, I raise my eyebrows and stifle a laugh.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“If you have something to say, just say it.” He wears a challenging grin.
If it was Cruz or anyone else I would totally say what I’m thinking. But this is Adam Stewart we’re talking about. However, I know he wants me to be real with him. And he won’t keep dating me if I’m always so nervous around him. Cruz warned me about playing games. He told me I need to be myself.
Gathering up courage, I say, “It’s just not every day I see a teenage boy order pink bubble gum ice cream.”
“Why not? It’s good.” He chuckles. “Have you ever had it?”
“Yeah. I used to order it all the time when I was a little girl.” I put extra emphasis on the words “little” and “girl.”
Adam shrugs, licking his ice cream cone. “I know. I took my little sister to ice cream the other day and she ordered it. She let me have a lick, and I liked it so much that I told her I would order it next time I went for ice cream. And now I can tell her that I did.”
My heart warms as I picture him taking his little sister out for ice cream. He’s sure messing with my previous image of him.
“I didn’t know you had a younger sister.” I surmise that she must not be in high school yet or surely I would have heard of her.
“Two younger ones, actually. I live in a house full of girls.” We reach the light and we stop as cars whiz past. Adam pushes the button, and we wait for the light to change.
“You and your dad are outnumbered, huh?”
A dark look cloaks his face as the light changes. Grabbing my arm with his free hand he guides me across the street. When we reach the other side, he sighs. “No dad. It’s just Mom, my sisters and me.”
“Oh.” My stomach knots, and I curse myself for my flippant remark. Why had I assumed he had a dad living at his house? Stupid. Stupid. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault. You’re not the woman he left my mom for.”
I can’t even imagine how awful that would be. I think about how much my parents have been fighting, but at least they’re still together. At least they are still both in my life.
“I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.” He nudges me in the shoulder.
I smile at him. “No, it’s my fault. I never should’ve said that.”
“How could you have known?” And there are those dimples again. I melt faster than my ice cream cone. His hand wraps around mine as we continue down the street. It feels good as his fingers sweep over my palm, as his strong hand holds mine steady. I savor it, thinking how I never would’ve dreamed I’d be in this situation. Ever.
Sure, I’d fantasized about it. A billion times. But reality is so much better.
“What about you? Got any siblings?”
“Yeah. An older sister. Regan. She’s in college.”
“Oh. Right. She was a senior when we were freshman, right?”
“Yeah,” I answer softly, a little miffed that he remembers her. It’s no secret that Regan is the pretty sister. The popular one too. Therefore, I’m not surprised that he would have noticed her. Just a little perturbed, I guess. I mean, he didn’t notice me at all until the first practice at Cruz’s house, and we’ve been going to school together for years.
“I remember her,
” he says.
I take the last bite of my cone and then rub my palm on my thigh. “Yep. She’s pretty unforgettable.”
“No, I mean, I remember seeing you with her.”
I freeze. “Me? You noticed me before now?”
Adam chuckles, squeezing my hand. He’d finished his ice cream a minute ago, so his other arm swung by his side. A couple maneuvers around us pushing a kid in a stroller. We pass an antique shop and a family peruses a stand with children’s books lining it.
“Of course. Did you think I didn’t?”
I nod. Adam stops walking and turns to me, his eyes searching mine. My breath catches in my throat. His hand is still tethered to mine. “The truth is that I’ve noticed you for years. I just always assumed you were hung up on Cruz.”
The words are like a punch in the gut. Is that what it seems like to people? That I’m into Cruz? “Well, I’m not,” I say firmly. “We’re just friends.” My mind flies back to Cruz holding me in my room before Adam picked me up, but I shake away the memory. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re best friends. Best friends hug all the time.
“I know that now.” He releases my hand and then brings his arm up. His fingers trail over my chin. I inhale sharply. As his face tilts toward mine, my heart takes off like a roller coaster at full speed. Like that one Cruz and I rode at California Adventure. I’ll never forget how shocked I was at how fast it was from the get go. Cruz still makes fun of me for the ear-piercing scream I let loose when we took off. As Adam’s face nears mine, I force my thoughts back to the present. When his lips almost meet mine, his gaze slides over my shoulder and his eyes widen. As if he’s been slapped, he jumps away from me.
Confused, I whirl around. Across the street I spot some of Adam’s friends from the football team. Is that why he jumped away from me like I had a contagious disease? Because he didn’t want his friends to see him with me?
With a disgusted look on my face, I march forward. I may not be in the elite crowd at our school, but I have my pride. Walking faster, I think about Cruz’s words. He was right. Adam is a player, and clearly I played right into his hands.
“Sloane, wait!” Adam calls after me, causing me to pick up the pace. “Sloane.” His hand circles my wrist. Damn, he’s quick. “Where are you going?”
I shake his hand off. “Look, it’s obvious that you’re embarrassed to be seen with me, so just take me home.”
Clouds fill his eyes. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You acted like I was a goddamn pariah the minute you saw your friends over there.”
“I’m sorry about that. I just sorta freaked out when I saw them.” He reaches for me. “But not because of you. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I want to believe him, but I don’t know what other explanation he can offer for his behavior.
“Please let me explain.”
“Why do you even care? I mean, we’ve only been on one date.” I have to know that what he said earlier was true. That he really does want to be with me. That I’m not just another girl to be played. It’s the only way I can keep putting my heart on the line like this. I may have spouted all that stuff to Cruz about being strong enough to handle getting hurt, but the truth is, I don’t want to be hurt by Adam.
“I like you, Sloane. I really do.” He touches my arm.
I soften. “I like you too.”
“C’mon.” He threads his fingers through mine. “I have something I want to show you. Then I think you’ll understand.”
I wasn’t expecting to end up at the high school.
When I turn up my nose in disgust, Adam chuckles. “Relax. I’m not going to make you do math or write an essay or anything.”
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to set foot on this campus for another couple of months.”
“Someone’s counting down the days.”
“Only because I’m dreading it.” I groan. “Do we really have to be here?”
“Trust me.” He offers me his hand.
I’m not sure if I should trust him or not, but I allow him to guide me out of the car and across the parking lot. At least we aren’t heading in the direction of the classrooms. Relief fills me when we end up at the bleachers on the football field. Adam leads me up to the very top, and then we sit down.
“Is there a game I don’t know about?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. Then his eyes meet mine. He takes a deep breath, and I can see the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. I steel myself for what’s coming next. “And there won’t be another one for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was injured at the end of last season. My doctor says I can’t go back to playing next season.”
I do remember hearing that Adam had hurt his knee at one of the games; had to be carried off the field. It was the talk of the school for weeks, but then it died down. I guess I thought that meant he was better.
“But you seem to walk fine.”
“Yeah. My knee was pretty jacked up, but it’s better now. Still, my doctor thinks it’s too big of a risk for me to play this year. I may be able to in the future. We’ll see. The guys on the team don’t get it. They just want me to come back and play the game. Like you, they assume that if I can walk fine, then I must be able to play fine.” He shakes his head. “And I don’t like being around them. It reminds me of what I’m missing out on. That’s why I acted weird when I saw them. I’m not ready to face them quite yet.”
I think about the games Cruz has dragged me too. It was obvious who the star of the team was. Adam shone out on that field. And I could tell he loved it. I cover his hand with mine. “I don’t know what to say. Sorry doesn’t seem adequate.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.” His jaw clenches, his gaze sweeping the field. “I’m just sorta lost right now.”
I nod with understanding.
“I feel like I need to find my footing right now. Figure out what else is out there for me.”
It makes me wonder what part he expects me to play in this. Am I a detour? A way to pass time as he’s figuring out his future? Or does he see me as a part of his future? I don’t dare ask. Besides, I’m not even sure what I want from him at this point. So I simply hold his hand as he stares out at the field. The field where he was once a star. The field he’ll never play on again.
12
cruz
“Good morning, mijo,” Mom trills when I enter the kitchen. Then she glides over to me, stamping a kiss on my cheek. My conversation with Gabe from the other night flies through my mind. “You look exhausted.” Worried lines etch her face as she presses a cool hand to my forehead. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I feel fine.” I sigh. “Just didn’t sleep well.” Every time I closed my eyes I pictured Adam pawing all over Sloane. I tossed and turned all night, hardly getting a wink of sleep.
“Oh, no. Is everything all right?” Mom places a hand on my back. “Come sit down and we can talk.”
I shake my head. “Nah. I was actually going to go see if Sloane wants to grab a coffee or something.” At the dejected look on Mom’s face, I hurriedly add, “I’ll pick you up a mocha.”
She smiles, ruffling my hair. “You’re such a good boy.”
I don’t care what my brothers say about my relationship with Mom. They can give me shit about being a momma’s boy for the rest of my life. It doesn’t matter to me what they think. I have often wondered if something was wrong with me that my two strongest relationships are with women – my mom and Sloane. I don’t have many guy friends, and my brothers and I aren’t super close. But I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I’m content with the way things are.
When I knock on Sloane’s door no one answers. I know her parents are at work, but Sloane’s car is still parked along the curb, so my guess is that she’s out on a run. A headache pricks behind my eyes, betraying how badly I need a dose of caffeine. I d
ecide to head to the coffee shop and pick something up. I can surprise Sloane with it when she returns from her run.
Skipping across the street I hop in my car and take off. My favorite coffee shop is right around the corner from my house, so it’s only a matter of minutes before I’m pulling into the parking lot. After shoving my keys in my pocket and adjusting them so they don’t poke me in the thigh, I head inside. The sun is already making its appearance, so I welcome the cool air inside the coffee shop. The scent of espresso beans and pastries greet me as I step into the lengthy line. After scanning the menu written on a large chalkboard, I settle on what to order and then wait my turn.
After ordering, I walk over to the pick-up line. There are numerous patrons waiting on their orders, so I stand against the window, resting my back on the cool glass. Crossing my arms over my chest, I glance around.
My stomach tightens when my gaze lands on Adam standing against the wall near the pick-up counter. Seriously? I’m starting to think the guy is stalking me. Why is he everywhere I go lately? A large smile sweeps over his face, and he lets out a little laugh. That’s when I notice that he’s talking to a girl with dark hair. I can’t see her because she’s blocked by his body. Could it be Sloane? Is that why she wasn’t home? I find it difficult to draw breath as I crane my neck attempting to see around him. Momentary relief washes over me at the sight of the strange girl Adam is speaking too, but just as quickly my relief turns to anger.
Seeing red, I step toward him. Wasn’t Adam out with Sloane last night? And now he’s already out with another girl? I knew he was no good for Sloane. He doesn’t deserve her.
As I tap on his shoulder, I clench my fists, forcing them to stay at my sides. What I want to do is shove my fist through the dude’s face, but Sloane will kill me if I do, so I keep my arms pinned down.
“Hey, man,” Adam says when he turns to me.
“Who’s she?” I point to the brunette. Her smile fades, her face falling.
