Falling for Seven

by T. A Richards Neville

  “He wants to play hockey now,” I explained to Mario and Marilyn.

  “Tell him I’ll help him with that,” Mario said. “I can give him some hockey lessons.”

  Julian was quick with, “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m always at the rink, anyway.”

  I didn’t wait for Julian to say anything else. Mario is center forward for the Lions hockey team. He can teach you to play if you want. I’ll come, too.

  Tomorrow? Taj signed.

  “I think you are going to have to commit to a date,” I said to Mario.

  Mario looked at Julian. “Thursday after practice is good for me. I’m done at six.”

  “We’ve got a game Thursday night.”

  “I can bring him,” I offered. I’d already been given my work shifts for the next two weeks. I didn’t start until eight on Thursday.

  “Cool. I’ll be here so I’ll just see you inside.”

  Thursday, I signed to Taj. At six. I’m going to pick you up. He smiled at Mario who dipped his head as if to say, no problem.

  I stood straighter. Julian passed Taj his keys and he ran over to the Range Rover, unlocking the doors with the fob.

  “We’re over there.” Marilyn pointed to the far-side of the lot. “You riding with us? I’m going back to the dorms.”

  “Sure. Go ahead, I’ll be right over.” They left and I said to Julian, “I really wasn’t expecting you to be here. What did you think of the show?” I asked him this with caution. I wanted him to like it.

  “I’m not that sure what I think. I’m not usually speechless. But at the minute, I am.”

  “Were you bored?”

  “When you weren’t on, yeah.”

  “Is that another line?”

  A tilted smile pulled at one side of his mouth, making his dimple show. “Truth. I knew you were good, but that was… something else. I can see why your dad’s on your back so much. He knows talent.”

  I didn’t want to talk about that now. “Well, I should go,” I said. “Marilyn’s waiting.”

  We stood in front of each other, my feet reluctant to move and take me farther away from him.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.

  “You want to do something tonight? Go eat or—”

  “I can’t. I have a job now and it’s my first shift tonight.”

  Julian didn’t hide his surprise. “A job? Where?”

  “Some dive bar.” His earlier half-smile stretched to a full one and I stepped away from him, shaking my head.

  “Which one?” He called out.

  “I’m not telling you,” I called back.

  <>

  I wrapped and tied my short red apron over my shorter black skirt, and smoothed my black polo into the waistband. The neck of the shirt was open to show too much cleavage for my liking, and if I leaned over too far, I was pretty sure my ass-cheeks might fall out.

  Ricki handed me a pad of paper and a pencil. “Here’s your order pad. Take the order and give it to the kitchen, drinks straight to the bar. Don’t forget table number and try not to get the orders mixed up.”

  “Got it,” I said, tucking my new accessories into the pocket of my apron.

  Ricki crossed his arms over his chest, his heavily-tatted muscles bunching as he zeroed in on me. “Have I served you before?”

  “Me?” I shook my head. “No. Not alcohol. I don’t have a fake ID.”

  He nodded once. “Good. You suspect anyone is underage, I.D them. Don’t chance it.”

  Shit. That would cause a problem. I would have to avoid everyone I knew, and get someone else to serve them, or they could go to the bar and get their drinks themselves.

  “Will do.” I smiled. His shaved head and thick neck were starting to scare me. Ricki, the manager, was young and attractive but in an ever so frickin’ scary way. Like, been in jail kinda way. “Should I tie my hair up?” I asked. “I mean, for hygiene?”

  He studied me longer. “No. leave it down. The customers like somethin’ pretty to look at. Wage is minimum, you’re going to want all the tips you can get.”

  My shift started at five, and by seven p.m., the bar was filling up. I put in an order to the chef for a lobster macaroni and shrimp po’ boy and then delivered the drinks to the waiting table. So far I was doing okay. Not great, just okay. But I’d spilled nothing and everyone got what they asked for. I could be faster, but I’d pick that up with confidence.

  I broke out into a mild sweat every time I stepped foot into the tiny kitchen, so I put the orders in quickly to get back out into the bar. I tucked my hair behind my ear, putting two empty bottles on my tray when a hand landed on my ass, squeezing my cheek.

  “Are you on the menu?” Sleazy guy asked, surrounded by all his frat buddies. “I’ve never tasted Spanish meat before.”

  I should have said something, but I was out of my element, still finding my footing in my new role as waitress. This was my first job, and there were no clear lines as to what was acceptable to say to a customer, even if he was a dick. My face was screaming with the heat of embarrassment. “Don’t be shy, baby. I’m just being nice.”

  The door opened, sending in a cool burst of air, and Julian ducked in, his gaze finding me in this awkward situation.

  “Whaddya say, Chula? Want me to eat you? I’m starving.” Frat boy’s buddies snickered, and I no longer cared about rules or getting fired. I would kick his ass.

  Julian’s arm came around my shoulder, his body overshadowing my tiny one. “When you’re done sucking each other’s cocks, get the fuck out. Fucking preppy virgins. Do you know who the fuck this girl is?” For a second I thought they were dumb enough to answer him. All four of them looked at me, and one of them even shook his head. “Go on, fuck off!” Julian barked, and they stood up, shuffling out of the booth, staying clear of Julian and hurried outside.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” I said, clearing the rest of the bottles, filling my tray. “I had it.”

  “I know you did. But Lego hair who was giving you shit is in my English class. Every time he opens his mouth I have to stop myself from punching him in it.”

  “Such valid reasons not to like someone.”

  Julian took the empty booth, his eyes on me wiping down the table. “So you’re my waitress?”

  “That depends on what you’re ordering.” I tucked the cloth into the band of my apron, balancing the tray on one hand.

  “A beer.”

  “How old are you?” I asked, steadying the tray with two hands when it threatened to tipple over, onto the floor. “Twenty?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You’re underage. I could lose my job.”

  Julian grunted. He could think what he wanted, I wasn’t risking my first job. I needed this to fill up the last of any free time I had. I needed to be here to stop from letting myself do something stupid involving my crafty ex. “Who are you? The police?”

  “I’m not serving you. I’m not serving your friends either when they show up. So make sure you tell them.”

  “Ricky won’t mind. He knows how old I am.”

  “And what puts you above the law?”

  “So you are the police?” he asked with the promise of laughter.

  “Just get your own beer. And try not to bother me. I’d like to keep this job if that’s okay with you.”

  24: Julian

  I’D TEXTED KIT TO MEET me here, but when I saw her walk in I started to wish I was anywhere else but in the same room as her. I saw her first and whistled to get her attention.

  “You two kissed and made up? You’re in for a lifetime of shit, bro. Smooth move.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil, but she’s not here because I’m in the mood for a lifetime partner.”

  “I need some time to decide whether or not I believe that. I’m gonna go find that sexy new waitress and get another beer. You want one?” Nicky smirked into the neck of his bottle. He was joking, but how far he’d take that joke knew no bounds. />
  “Leave her alone,” I warned.

  “Remember it’s a bet, Seven.” He lowered his beer. “Unless it isn’t…”

  I paid no attention to his taunting and stepped in front of Kit before she missed me. I took her outside, away from the bulk of the noise. “I’m surprised to finally hear from you,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest and leaning against the trellis. Clear lights wound through the crawling Ivy, glowing behind her hair, making it look white. I concentrated on that a while, before I looked her in the eye.

  “It’s been a day, Kit.”

  “If you’ve asked me here to have another go at me, don’t bother. I certainly won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  “Do you see?” I asked. “Do you see how weird things have become now you’ve tried to blend the lines? We had something and now we’ve got fucking nothing. I don’t know why you can’t just be happy with friends.”

  “Do you know how hard that would be for me? To stand there and be your friend while you fuck whoever the hell you want?”

  “I was only ever fucking you at one point. You had what you wanted.”

  The aggression in her eyes cleared and she moved toward me. “It could be like that again.”

  I moved my arm away when she reached for me. “No, it can’t. It’s different now I know you want more.”

  Kit’s eyes creased, a thoughtful look coming over her. “You always knew I wanted more. This is the first time you’ve heard me say it out loud and you’re scared, but I won’t ever mention it again. I can keep it to myself. I will keep it to myself.”

  “No, we’re done. Don’t ask me again. I wanted to apologize for shutting you down the way I did, but I still meant it. I thought we could be friends, we can’t. There’s nothing else I can really say to you about it.”

  “You give up so easy.” Her arms wrapped back around her chest.

  Not normally I didn’t, it wasn’t in my nature. If it was worth fighting for, there was no way I was backing down. If I wanted it, I’d have it. A friendship with Kit was something I could leave or take. I’d prefer if it if we could still hang out, but not enough to force it.

  “I think we’ve found out too late that what we started wasn’t the best idea.”

  “Not for you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “For both of us. Maybe you have to hate me first, hell, I don’t know.” I threw up my hands, nearing a dead-end with this. “When you think you’ve had enough time, I’ll be here.”

  “Your apologies suck!”

  “It’s the best I got.”

  “It’s not good enough.”

  “You want me to stand here and lie to you? Make some shit up so that you can feel better?” I smoothed my hand down the back of my neck, stress creeping into my muscles. “I’m sorry this isn’t what you want to hear, but it isn’t like I’m cutting you out of my life. I told you I want to hang out, same as we always do.”

  “It won’t be like always, though, will it?”

  The urge to hit something was getting stronger. “Kit, we are going round in fucking circles. I’m done with this conversation. You know where I’m at on this.”

  She looked away with a tedious puff of air. I doubted she was anywhere near finished, even though she’d decided she could no longer look at me. “I thought we were forever.”

  “Why? I never said that to you. Not once.”

  Her shoulders hitched higher and her head shook softly. A sign she was giving up after all. “I guess it’s just what I thought. But I was always too scared to let you know. On a deeper level, I think I knew this would happen—that I’d lose you.”

  I repressed the need to sigh. “I’m not lost. I’m here, like I’ve always been since we started BU. Fucking hell, Kit. We are for life. Just not the way you want. But I’m still here—you’re still here, no one died. Any guy would be lucky to have you. It just isn’t me.”

  Strangely enough, I meant that.

  She said nothing, but her body language told me that we’d made peace. I stared at her while she stared at the floor. I couldn’t leave until she said something. “Kit—”

  “I’m okay.” Her blue eyes finally met mine, hers full of regret. Any kind of friendship was out the fucking window. “I’ll see you later, Seven.”

  That confirmed it. She never called me Seven.

  <>

  I went back inside and Kit was nowhere in sight. Katlyn, Dionne, and Bernadette, sat with half the team, taking up one high table and two booths to the side of the bar. I waited at the bar to order a beer and spotted Angel at the other end looking flustered. She took a hair tie from the pocket of her apron and pulled her hair back, her face red with heat. I couldn’t blame her, even I was warm and I wasn’t working. The bar was full tonight, just like always. But then I saw who was on the other side of the bar, vying for her attention, and I knew why she was so worked up.

  Jordan was leaning over the mahogany counter, his hands grabbing for hers to make her stop and listen to him. Her chest lifted with a sigh and she pulled her arm back, shaking her head. I wished I could hear what was being said, but they were too far away and the music was too loud.

  “Seven, what can I get you? Beer?” Gina, the bartender filled my view, waiting for my drink order.

  “Sure.”

  I paid her, took the beer and sat on the end of the booth, Bernadette shuffling over to let me in. I had a clear view from here of Angel. She looked phenomenal now the crappy blonde was gone from her hair. I don’t know why she did that to herself, but I hoped she never messed with what God gave her again. She was damn near perfect.

  I couldn’t see Jordan but I knew he was still there because she was in the same spot, agitation all over her face. They were still talking but it wasn’t anything good. The sooner he left, the better.

  “Hi,” came a voice in my ear. I turned my head to the side, my body facing the other way, to see Dionne’s friend smiling at me. “I’m Bernadette.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I turned away from her to see Jordan back away from the bar, then turn and leave, pushing through the crowd to get outside. For a heartbeat I thought about getting up to go to Angel, she looked so fucking lost. But then she composed herself and looked up, her head moving in my direction. She looked right at me, her eyes a little glazed.

  I put my beer down. Is everything okay? I signed. There was no point in getting up to go talk to her. She was busy and it was too noisy. I wanted her to know I was here, though, and if she wanted to talk, then I was good to talk.

  She didn’t reply right away, a stunned note of confusion in her wide eyes. Then she lifted her hands and signed back, I think so.

  I nodded before she turned around and headed into the kitchen, and back to work.

  I picked up my beer about to take a drink when Katlyn’s voice sounded from across the table. “Did you just sign to Angel?” As much as I wished she hadn’t said that, it was too late. Everyone was aware now and there was no chance of getting out of it.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That all right with you?”

  Her lips parted, ready to speak but not yet sure what to say. Nicky’s arm around her shoulder tightened, pulling her closer to him. He whispered in her ear, her eyes lowering to the drink in front of her. They both knew about Taj. Nicky had always known, but Katlyn only found out at the mall a few weeks ago, when she and Tamara met Taj for the first time.

  Itchy strands of Bernadette’s blonde hair scratched my ear as she wound her fingers through it and then leaned her elbow on the table, her hand supporting her face as she stared up at me. Ignoring her was hard, her gaze was feasting on every part of me and I gave in, finishing my beer and agreeing to another one when Nicky got up to get in the next round. “Do you want something?” I asked, worried for the stiffness of her neck.

  “I’m going to put this out there. I saw that girl, kit, storm out of here, and I know it’s because you blew her off. I just want to let you know that I’m here if you ever need to let off steam.” H
er thumbnail worked its way between her teeth. There was no need for her to say it. She was walking sex, it oozed from every part of her. My eyes appraised her heaving chest, spilling out from a tight shirt. Her tan legs poked out from a black skirt under the table, and yeah, she was sexy—pretty, even. But she was also too much like kit, and I wasn’t feeling it at the minute.

  Nicky dumped a beer in front of me, his interests staying on Bernadette a little longer than Katlyn found acceptable. “Put your fucking eyes back in, Nicky!” She was glowering across the table. Bernadette smiled, smug as shit.

  Knowing it wasn’t worth the drama, Nicky sat opposite me, squeezing in next to Rixton.

  “Seven.” Rixton hovered over his drink, moving forward so I could better him better. “Has coach talked to you about next year’s Draft?”

  “Yeah.” I sat back against the red leather booth, spreading my legs under the table, accidently bumping against Bernadette’s thighs. I ignored the way she looked at me and lay my forearm on the table, a barrier between us. “What about it?”

  “Are you entering, or what?”

  “I don’t know yet.” It was an outright lie. I was declaring in January and that was that. There was no reason not to. Either way, I was going into the NFL. A year didn’t make any kind of difference.

  “Man, what about you?” Rixton looked at Nicky, who just shrugged and tipped back his beer.

  “Coach is on some getting a tutor shit, if I want to carry on playing the rest of the season. Declaring for the draft next year isn’t something I need to worry about if I can’t pull my grades up. I’ll be lucky if I need to worry about it after senior year.”

  “Nicky,” Katlyn said from the other end of the booth, “I said I would help you with that. Didn’t I say that?”

  Nicky glared at me, his deep breath whistling through his lips, then he smiled, turned to Katlyn and said, “Yeah, baby. But then you turn up in a fucking tiny dress or tiny shorts and I end up fucking you. I need someone who can do the job fully-clothed. You know I get distracted easy.”