It took me only a few minutes to get to the football field and I sat down halfway up the bleachers to watch the end of the practice session. I knew very little about football, and by little, I meant nothing. By this point, I didn’t even know which one was Julian because of the helmets. But then he turned around and flashed me a large, dark green number 7 on the back of his white training jersey.
He threw football after football at a large inflatable post and every aim was a direct hit. He was good, even my untrained eye could see that.
Some of the other players were running drills and my dad blew his whistle, bringing them all together. He sent a bunch of the defensive to one part of the field and they simultaneously ran at tackling dummies, the frames bending backwards under the player’s weight. I think I spotted Dan. His arms wrapped around the dummy, his cleats scraping at the turf. He went at it over and over, each player taking a turn.
Julian and three others moved off toward the end zone, and at the 40 yard line Julian settled into throwing the football at who I could tell was Nicky. Nearly every player looked the same in tight white pants and wide-shoulder jerseys, but from what little time I had spent around Julian’s teammates, I could already tell subtle differences between them.
Julian’s passes were fluid and accurate, and Nicky caught every one, his feet lifting off the floor and his arms diving into the air. He didn’t miss a single ball.
When the assistant coach blew his whistle and the players started to wrap it up, Julian unclipped his helmet, throwing it down onto the field. His hair was wet from sweating and he pulled the jersey up over his head and wiped his face with it, then took off his shoulder pads. The muscles in his back rolled in sync with his arm movements, his golden skin gleaming from hard work.
The rest of the player’s helmets came off as well as a few jerseys and protective gear, and I recognized Drift, Rocco and Rixton. They were goofing around on their way to the changing rooms and I was about to hightail it out of there and hide out in my car when Julian stopped, led by a sixth sense and looked up, directly at where I was sitting.
I waved pathetically. He said something to Dan, who also looked up at me. Nicky saw me, too, and he made a stupid noise, dropped to his knees dramatically and raised his arms in the air. “Angel!” His voice echoed around the bleachers, ringing in my ears. His face twisted in aguish. “I love you!”
I cringed in embarrassment while everyone else laughed. Apart from my dad who looked furious. His face was redder than blood. I could see his tightly clenched jaw from all the way up here. Julian shoved Nicky in the back of his head, said something to my dad and then started to jog across the field and up the steps of the bleachers, his cleats thudding against the tinny metal. The rest of the team carried on into the tunnel when my dad finally dragged Nicky to his feet and gave him a rough push forward to the changing rooms, shouting obscenities at the back of his head.
I was pink from cringing when Julian stopped for breath at the bench in front of me. He put one leg on it, resting his arm across his bent knee. “Nice glasses,” he said, breathing hard. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Are you free for a few hours?” I asked, ignoring his comment.
“That depends on who’s asking.”
“Me,” I said, getting bored. “I’m asking.”
“Then I’m free all day, baby.”
“Okay, one, don’t call me that. And two, an hour of your time is more than enough.”
“What you got planned?”
“The assignment, Julian.” I stood up. “I’ve brought my car. I’ll follow you.”
His cockiness wavered. “Follow me where?”
“To your house. Last week I told Taj I would go to the mall with him, and I meant it.”
“So we’re gonna hang with my kid brother? Is that your way of saying you’re scared to be alone with me?” His smile was all confident arrogance.
“Sure,” I said. “That’s what it means.” I gave him a condescending smile.
“I’ll go change. Meet you in the parking lot in five.” He started to jog down the stairs then stopped to look at me. “Oh, and make sure you are wearing those glasses.”
<>
I was parked near Julian’s Range Rover and I got in my car when he came out of the stadium and into the lot. He must have skipped a shower because he was quicker than I expected. He climbed into the Range Rover and I tailed him all the way to his neighborhood.
A girl of about our age came out of one of the apartments across the street, her hurried footsteps clanging against the iron staircase. She gave me a lingering look when she saw me with Julian. “Hey, Seven,” she said, her expression lifting. “You just back from practice?”
“Yeah,” he said, offering no introductions as to who this girl was.
She looked at me and then back at Julian. “Will you be in later?”
I didn’t miss his hesitation. “I don’t know, I’ll call you.”
Her lips curled in a disappointed smile and she looked at me again. “Make sure you do.”
I watched her walk away, her straight black hair swishing across her back. She was pretty. No, she was beautiful. I noticed Julian also watching her leave. He looked like he wanted to go after her.
“Is that your girlfriend?” I asked.
My question caught him off guard, and he took his time with an answer. “Kristina? No. She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“What about Kit?”
“What’s with the sudden interest?”
“No interest, just a genuine question.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. “Why? You offering?”
“Not a chance.” I was curious, though. “You’re sleeping with them both, aren’t you?”
Julian’s eyes snapped to mine, tensed with a hard edge. I laughed at his irritation, tipping my head to the side. “Come on, Julian. I won’t be hurt, I don’t care who or what you do. I’m just wondering where Kit stands. You must know how she feels about you.”
Julian sat on the wall surrounding his yard and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “Kit knows the deal.”
“Does she?”
“I don’t date.”
“No, you just fuck, right?”
“What’s she told you?”
“Nothing,” I defended. “She doesn’t have to.”
“Are you interrogating me because of the assignment or because you are jealous?”
“I’m seeing someone.” The words were out before I could stop them. I shouldn’t have told him that, he’d leap all over it. God, I wasn’t even sure if it was true. That’s the thing about hindsight, by the time you have it, it’s too late.
“You’ve got a boyfriend?” He didn’t seem all that surprised, more amused if I was honest.
“I think so.” I think so? How stupid did that sound?
“If you just think he’s your boyfriend, then trust me, he isn’t. If he was your man, you would know it. Does he let you fuck other people?”
“God, you’re so crass. And we haven’t had that conversation,” I said, trying to work my way out of this.
“If you were mine, we wouldn’t need to have that conversation. If another man so much as laid a finger on you, I would snap those fuckers off.”
I crossed my arms loosely over my chest, a protective barrier against Julian’s words that had my pulse racing. “Well, I’m not yours.”
“Yet,” he added.
“Never,” I concluded.
“So who’s the lucky guy?” I could tell he wanted to laugh, his attitude was too light and airy. He didn’t take me seriously at all. I didn’t have to tell him, I could stand here and say nothing. But why should I hide it? Julian’s constant judgement shouldn’t bother me, and his opinion really was insignificant. I could see whoever the hell I wanted, it was my life.
“Jordan,” I mumbled so quietly I barely heard it myself.
“What? Speak up.” He cupped his hand around his ear, a full smile
curling the corner of his mouth
“Jordan,” I said louder.
Julian’s smile vanished the same time I looked up through my lashes. It felt wrong saying it, so god knows what Julian was thinking.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, brushing it off. I knew how silly it sounded, but I didn’t care. I was happy, that was all that should matter. And it shouldn’t matter to Julian at all.
He had no intentions of letting it lie. “After what he did to you? You’ve imitated a fucking zombie in class. Now I know why you’re so happy today. Because of that weed? He snaps his fingers and you can live your life again. Wow.” Julian hissed a spiteful laugh between his teeth. “Pathetic.”
I wasn’t going to get upset. Not because of Julian.
“I don’t care what you think. I shouldn’t have told you. I shouldn’t have even come here.”
The sound of my phone gave me something to do for a few seconds so I wouldn’t have to look at Julian.
Unknown: Is this for real? If this isn’t a joke, then sure, I’ll switch and take Seven off your hands. Who wouldn’t want to partner with him?
Me, I thought. I wouldn’t want to partner with him.
I smiled and replied that we would swap whatever notes we had already taken and she should let her partner know to make sure it’s cool.
“Who the fuck is that?” Julian’s eyes narrowed in on my turn of mood.
“Your new partner in Sociology,” I said. I couldn’t hide my smile when I saw how unhappy he looked about that. It was an ideal scenario: New partner, Julian pissed off.
Life was good.
“You’re trading me off? With who?”
“Sidney,” I said. “I believe you guys already know each other so it shouldn’t be too awkward.”
“Yeah, I’m not switching. You can text her back and tell her that.”
Okay, I had maybe not thought about him saying no.
“Actually, let me do it.” He took his phone out of his pocket and my short-lived triumph pummeled to the ground with an almighty bang.
I wasn’t surprised he had Sidney’s number, he may well have had the whole female population stored in that tiny cell, but I still heard myself saying, “What’re you doing?”
“Letting Sidney know it isn’t happening. In your dreams are you getting rid of me that easy.”
“You don’t like me,” I said, mad at his fast-paced thumbs spoiling my second good turn of the day. “And I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, patronizing. “Let’s go get Taj. He’s gonna shit a brick when he sees you’re here.”
That stopped me. I thought I hadn’t been around long enough to leave a lasting impression. “He will?”
“Yeah, man. I think he’s got a little crush on you, and I can’t say I blame him.”
“I think you need to get checked out for a personality disorder, but I’m flattered,” I said. Then added, “About him, not you.”
“I should warn you,” said Julian, getting up off the wall. “He’s trouble. And a little bit of a pervert.”
“Yeah, that makes two of you,” I said behind his back.
12: Julian
TAJ AND ANGEL SLURPED at matching banana milkshakes while I nursed a glass of iced water, all my efforts in not letting today end in another verbal war. I’d felt bad for Angel when I saw her crying, regardless of how much of a jockstrap the guy was who fucked her off. But looking at her now, it was taking all my strength not to bring up how much of a spineless idiot I thought she was every time her phone beeped and she made no attempt to cover up how stupidly over the moon she was. She dropped her phone to the table and looked underneath at her pink and black Vans, then signed to Taj to show her his new sneakers.
Sick, she signed, admiring his gray and black board shoes.
“You really didn’t need to buy those,” I said, with a sour note in my voice. I told her I got it, but she flat-out ignored me and bought them anyway.
“Yeah, I did,” she corrected me. “It’s only money and it’s only shoes. What’s the big deal? Nobody died.”
You might, my twisted mind thought.
She laid her hand on Taj’s skinny little arm and his blue eyes flicked up to her face. You like your shoes, right?
He nodded his head, his straw still stuck between his lips. He would have liked it if she bought him a shovel with a heaping pile of shit on it. And as much as I wanted her to know that, I kept my mouth shut for the sake of the peace.
“It’s only money when you are bred from a bottomless pit of it.”
“I wasn’t bred.”
I stretched my arm across the high-gloss table and dragged her pen and notebook in front of me. She leaned over the table to see what I was writing but I pulled the book farther away. “What’re you writing?” she asked. “That better not be about me.”
“Of course it’s about you. First fact of the day: you are rich.”
“My dad is your football coach, I am not rich.”
“Fact about me.” I continued writing, ignoring her grievance. “I am poor.” Angel sat back, her pissy eyes glowering at me through her glasses. “Another fact about you.”
She wasn’t listening, her gaze focused on the mall crowd.
“Angel. Fact about you?”
She heard me that time. “Oh, you’re actually asking me?”
“Hurry up.”
“I’m half Mexican. Now you, seeing as we’re acting like immature children.”
“You’re the one with the milkshake. I am full American, and I already guessed that about you. Feisty Latina, it suits you.”
She rolled her eyes but it only succeeded in making me smile.
“I lived with my mom and dad in California. He moved back to Boston not long after I was born. This is where he’s from. After that I stayed with my mom until I came here,” she said when I shrugged my shoulders waiting for her answer.
“I live with my mom and my brother.”
“Where’s your dad?”
“With his new family in New Jersey.” I switched it back to her. “I never knew coach had a wife.” O’Hara wasn’t the type for family pics around his computer screen. If he wasn’t talking football he wasn’t talking at all.
“He doesn’t,” she said, leaning in for a drink of milkshake. “They were never married.”
“Your mom stayed in Cali?”
“God knows.”
My pen halted as I looked at her. “You don’t know where your mom is?”
“No. She left one day and my dad brought me here,” she said like it was no big thing.
“She just bailed?”
“She’s no stranger to running away. In the beginning I think my dad drove her away. She didn’t exactly fit into his world.”
“How come?”
“My dad is very,” she searched for the right word, “professional, and a perfectionist. My mom… isn’t.”
I started writing again. This was easy. “Okay, next fact: you don’t get on with coach any more than the rest of us.”
“Are we going that personal?” she asked, regretting having fed me so much of her personal info. “I don’t want the whole class to know about my dysfunctional family.”
“Next fact: comes from a dysfunctional family.” She swiped the pen from my hand while I grinned from ear to ear.
“You’re a shit.” She snatched the book, scribbling out what I had written.
Taj stood up, glaring at me. You could always tell he was mad when his nostrils flared. Don’t upset her.
She’s not upset, I signed. It was a task not to crack a smile at his angry red cheeks. I would never hurt her.
Not physically.
I can understand you, Angel signed, frowning at me.
Can we go to the skate park? Julian signed, shifting to a different subject.
Angel looked at me, waiting for my answer.
“We’re supposed to be doing the assignment. Tha
t’s it.” If she gave me a chance to do anything with her, it wouldn’t be wasted on the skate park. But maybe I’d go, butter her up a little—wear her down. Give her something to think about other than Jordan.
“Well I’m not going to be the one to disappoint him,” Angel said, and then signed, it’s up to Julian, but we could always go just the two of us if he says no.
I heard Taj’s laughter, but I’d stopped paying attention. Not when Kit and Katlyn detached themselves from the crowd of shoppers. Katlyn saw me first, and she gave Kit’s arm a slight shake to get her attention. Kit paused, saw us, and then smiled. They were coming over here.
Fuck.
“Hi, Jules.” Kit looked at Angel, confusion on her face as clear as water. “Hi,” she said after a while.
“Hi,” said Angel with the flip of her hand in a small wave.
I could practically see the assumptions galloping through Kit’s mind. Her smile was full of cracks. If she said one word…
“Oh, hi, who are you, cutie?” She bent down to Taj’s level, but he was engrossed in his milkshake, not hearing a word of what she was saying to him.
She straightened up, smiling awkwardly, the sting of snobbery smeared all over her face. “Guess he doesn’t like me.”
I didn’t know what Angel did, but Taj’s head shot up, his eyes finding hers.
Say Hi to Kit, she signed. She’s your brother’s girlfriend.
Taj looked at me for a second, his eyes wider. He pushed his fingers through the hair hanging over his forehead and then signed to kit, Hi Julian’s girlfriend.
I wiped my hand over my eyes and shook my head.
Kit glanced at me in discomfort. She looked fucking scared. I was about to throw her a lifejacket for her drowning performance when she said, “Hi,” loud enough for the whole food court to hear.
“He’s deaf,” I quickly stepped in. “He can’t hear you.”
“Oh.” Kit looked like she might start to cry and fiddled with the paper handles of her shopping bags. Katlyn checked the time on her watch and then yawned.
If you’re so bored then just do us all a favor and fuck off.
Falling for Seven Page 13
