by RH Tucker
Is this guy for real? He bails on me, and now he wants to act like it's no big deal?
Emerald22: I actually can't talk right now. I'm meeting someone
BigBaller27: Meeting someone???
Emerald22: Just a friend… well, not really a friend. Just a guy from history class
BigBaller27: Should I be jealous?
I can’t help the small grin I get, but still shake my head, because I feel like we’re a long way from him being able to get jealous over me meeting someone.
Emerald22: U don't get to be jealous. Maybe if u would've met me like u said >:)
BigBaller27: Ouch
Okay, that might’ve been a little harsher than I meant it to be.
Emerald22: Sorry
BigBaller27: Don't be. I deserved that. Hey, I gotta go. I'll try to text u later
Emerald22: Ok
As much as I've wanted to exchange texts with him, I don't feel anything. No nerves from exchanging messages and no sadness as he cuts the messaging short. Maybe being stood up by him has affected me more than I think.
I take a seat at the oak tree, again not feeling anything. No remorse or heartache over remembering the last time I was here.
“Hey,” Carter says, behind me.
“Hey.”
"You like Pepsi?" He asks, and before I look up, I feel something cold against my arm. I look at the bottle, then up at him.
His brown hair sways in the light breeze. He’s wearing his letterman’s jacket, his name on the side of it, and his blue shirt underneath is just small enough that I can see his chest stretching the fabric. Handing the soda to me, his smile seems genuine, which make me stare at the dimple in his left cheek a little too long.
I shift my eyes back to the soda. “I do, actually. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck.
I've seen him do that a few times now, mostly when he seems to get nervous, which confuses me. Why would he be worried about a soda?
“I mean, it was that or Coke. So, I had a fifty-fifty shot.”
“Thanks.” I pull out my history packet. “So, what’d you cover?”
He drops next to me, and I realize how close he's sitting. I never get flustered with Carter, but as I notice how close his knee is to mine, my breath catches. Clearing it, I take a sip, trying to re-focus on the homework we are going over and not that fact that my bare knee is gazing his jeans. I mean, that’s silly, right?
"I covered the First Battle of the Bull Run."
“Really?” I ask, unimpressed.
“What?”
“Carter, that’s the first major battle. You couldn’t have picked something a little more intriguing.”
“Sorry.” He smiles, nudging me with his shoulder. I swallow a gulp of soda again to calm my anxiety.
Is it just because he’s never actually flirted with me that I think he’s doing it now? No, he can’t be flirting.
“I had less time to work on it, so I wanted something I could cover well.”
I read over his paper, and he asks to read over mine. I only have his word to go on about how smart he is, but as I read his report, it's excellent. Yes, the first battle of the Civil War is an easy topic to cover, since there's so much information on it, but his words are articulate. And even his handwriting is good, which I don't know why I notice, but I do. By the time we finish covering everything, the bell rings.
“Looks like we spent the whole lunch out here,” Carter says. He gets up and extends his hand to me.
I look at it cautiously, almost like I’m a little girl and think I’m going to get cooties. Then I think about that stupid rumor and how mad he apparently got. I don’t want him to think I believe the rumors, so I calm myself down and grab his hand as he helps me up.
“Sorry, I probably kept you from your friends.”
“It’s okay.” I pull my bag over my shoulder. “I see them every day.”
"Cool." He looks down the hall, before smiling at me. "Well, we're going to the same class. Mind if I walk with you?"
“Sure.”
As we walk to history, I'm acutely aware that I'm walking next to Carter Dixon. Not because I'm super nervous or have a few butterflies in my stomach. Where'd those things come from anyway? Not because he's captain of the basketball team or is one of the most widely known players in school. No, what makes me extremely aware of my situation are all the eyes quickly flashing our direction.
Carter must notice my apprehension because he nudges my shoulder. Again, a shot of adrenaline shoots through me. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I nervously look around to see more eyes staring at us. “God, the rumors are gonna fly.” I look over at him and see him look a little anxious. Then I remember the last rumor that was spread about him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything.”
“You heard about that one, huh?”
I don’t have to see myself to know my cheeks are flush. “Yeah, but I also heard that it wasn’t true.”
“It’s not.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck again. “You know, a lot of stuff out there isn’t true.”
I scoff. "Yeah, but I'm sure a lot is." Carter gives me a hurt look. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn't be one to talk. You might be in the deep end of the rumor pool, but I've never even jumped in. I wouldn't know what it's like."
His hurt look is replaced with a smile. “That’s a good thing. And I can’t say I did anything to stop the rumors.”
I nod, the silence drifting between us as we approach the door to our class. Opening the door, he waits for me to go in first. I walk to my seat and find myself looking over my shoulder, feeling like a total hypocrite, as I check out his butt before he takes his seat.
When the bell rings to end class, a light sigh of relief slips out, as I make my way to art. A welcomed distraction from Mystery Texter, but also from these new feelings for Carter? Feelings? No, they aren’t feelings. They couldn’t be. We just met up for lunch to review homework. That dimple in his left cheek is adorable though. No, Emma.
As class starts, I set up my canvas and stare at Heartbreak. Grabbing some greens, blues, and a magenta, I mix them around and start to add a lonely flower growing out of a brick below the dark cloud I painted. Getting lost in the painting, class is over before I know it, and Ms. Hales walks over to me just as the bell rings.
“Really excellent.” She admires the painting and a sense of pride beams through me. “I meant to tell you earlier, but you’re friends with Micah, right?” I nod. “I was hoping you two would head to the gym and get a layout for how we might set up the art gallery. Sorry, I know it’s short notice.”
“It’s okay,” I answer, putting away the painting. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Thank you. He’s got the paperwork with the plans how I think it will look best, but if you guys think of anything that would make it better, just make a note of it.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, Emma.”
Heading over to the gym, I send a message to Jen.
Emma: Hey, I gotta meet Micah at the gym, to go over gallery stuff. Can you wait?
Jen: Sure. Actually, I’ll meet you there.
Emma: U sure?
Jen: Absolutely. The varsity team is practicing. Hopefully, it's shirts vs skins ;P
I get to the gym but don’t see Micah anywhere, as Jen walks over from the student parking lot.
“Sorry.”
"No biggie. I'm super excited about your art show."
“Jen, it’s not my art show. It’s our classes.”
“Yeah.” She wraps her hands around my arm. “But your work is the only stuff I want to see.”
I let out a giggle. “Don’t let Micah hear that.”
Walking inside, I’m hit front and center with the sight that Jen must have been talking about. I don’t know much about sports, much less basketball. So, when Jen said ‘shirts vs skins’ I didn’t give it a second thought. But taking up half the basketball court is a
gaggle of guys. Half of them shirtless. Including Carter.
Our laughter echoes through the gym, along with the bouncing of a basketball that suddenly stops. All of them turn around, and my eyes stay locked on Carter. Basketball shorts dropping low with no shirt on. Like, shirtless. You know, his chest and abs not covered by any clothing. Whatsoever.
“I think you’re drooling, Emma,” Jen whispers, laughter in her voice.
“Shut up.” I finally look away and can feel my face getting hot.
If the butterflies I felt earlier were just nerves of talking to someone I don't usually talk to, the colossal bowling ball of jitters jumping in my stomach is definitely from me checking him out.
"Emma! Jen!" Micah calls out and waves us over.
As we walk over, I can't resist looking over at Carter again. The sweat glistens off his face, and my eyes roam over his chest. I felt how firm it was the day I ran into him, but not those abs. Wow. His eyes met mine, and he flashes that single-dimple grin that I'm starting to like more and more, but it forces me to look away again.
"Yum," Jen whispers in my ear, and I giggle, even though I know I'm turning red.
Chapter 25
Carter
Damn. Damn in the best and worst possible way that the word could ever be imagined.
As the laughs hit the gym, everyone turns around. If there are cheerleaders in the gym while we practice, they usually have their own practice going on. When the echoing laughter of girls hit the air, we all stop and turn to see who it is. And there she is. Emma. Walking hand in hand with her friend and they're both looking over at us. Then my eyes meet hers, and it looks like she's blushing. Could Emma have feelings for me? Like, me me? Even if she did, I still have some ways to go to win her over, but our conversation while we walked to history seemed like a good first step.
I hold the ball, my eyes still watching her as she and her two friends look over an area of the gym. I know the guy is Micah but know him only in name only. The girl is Jennifer Harris, star drama student of Woodbridge. I’m pretty sure Lucas has a major crush on her, though he never says anything. The only reason I know is because he seems to go catatonic whenever she’s around.
Spinning the ball in my hands, I watch as they look at some papers Micah’s holding. Emma is wearing little shorts with a light hoodie today, and those tan legs look amazing, even with little spots of paint on them. I can feel my face getting red, and I'm just about to turn away when a whistle blows—loudly—right in front of me.
“Yes, yes, it’s girls!” Coach Hallinan screams. We turn around, trying to hide our embarrassment. “Which is why I told you guys its half-court press today. The art class is going over things for their art show coming up, so we’re sticking to this side.” He turns around. “Now, if you morons can remember how to bounce a ball, let’s get back to it.”
Matt walks over to me. “Well, well.”
"Shut it."
He smiles and goes back to playing defense. Lucas and I are going over offensive plays and were assigned the skins team, which is why we don't have our jerseys on. Happy to try and take my mind of Emma, I can see him checking Jen out over my shoulder.
"What's the deal with you two, anyway? She seems to avoid you, but you can't keep your eyes off her. Why don't you just ask her out?"
“It’s … complicated.” He lets the word hang there, trying not to look over at her, but his expression is pained. I don’t want to push it, especially in the middle of practice around the guys, so I drop it.
“Today, gentleman!” Coach yells out and blows his whistle again.
Practice starts up again, and I do everything I can to forget Emma is standing behind me, but I can’t. I can’t forget it, which means I can’t play. I physically can’t. I’m losing the ball, slipping on the court, and I miss every shot I take.
By the time coach switches us up to defense, it's worse. Before, Emma and her friends were standing behind me. But now that I'm on defense, the offense has their backs to the girls, but I'm facing them, trying to defend the basket.
Coach blows his whistle again, and I see him cross his arms. “Come on, Dixon! Move your ass!”
I don't know if it's the sound of my name or the word ass, but I see Emma's head turns around. Jeremy's trying to take the ball to the hoop, so he's blocking my line of vision, but then I see her. Looking in my direction. I try to block Jeremy's path to the basket but don't plant my feet in time, and Jeremy knocks me down. Of course, Jeremy is known for charging too, so it could've been that. Either way, I grunt on the floor and see Emma flashing a small look of worry. I shoot a smile over at her, and she turns back around.
“What the hell?” Matt comes over, helping me up. His voice reaffirms that it was a charge on Jeremy’s part.
“His feet weren’t planted,” Jeremy says.
“Bullshit,” another player chimes in, grabbing my other arm to help me up.
"Ten laps!" Coach yells out and points to Jeremy, who grumbles before taking off around the court. I look back over to where Emma was and see her and her friends walking out of the gym.
"It's our last two weeks of the season, and if you boneheads don't play tighter D, with no penalties, it doesn't matter how good we play. All right, ball up."
As we make our way to the locker room after practice, I hear someone arguing. Lucas and I are the last to enter, and I know it’s not our coach. He usually leaves the locker room to ourselves, letting us keep each other in line.
“It wasn’t a low blow; he wasn’t paying attention.” I hear Jeremy.
“Are you nuts?” I hear Matt’s voice answer back, almost yelling. “What the hell’s your problem? It’s not gonna do us any good if our captain goes down with an injury.”
"Whatever, Mr. President." Jeremy pushes past him, walking to his locker.
I shoot Matt a look, unsure what’s going on, but he just shakes his head.
“You good, Dixon?” Jeremy asks, eyeing me carefully.
“Nothing a little ice won’t help.”
"See?" Jeremy looks over at Matt. "He's a big boy. You don't need to cuddle him. You guys probably do enough of that already."
I look at Matt confused, who looks like he’s about to blow a gasket. Lucas also gives me a weird look.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“My bad.” He puts up his hands but has an expression that says he’s far from sorry. “You were probably just scoping out those two chicks for something to remember later tonight. For your alone time.”
"Hey, bitch." I step to him, and Matt gets in front of me.
Jeremy is not one to miss making fun of someone, no matter how crude or tasteless. And that goes for teammates as well. But there's something in his voice. Malice. As if he's trying to put me down somehow, which I don't get. It wouldn't piss me off as much, but he brought up Emma, even if he didn't do it by name.
“Oh.” Jeremy’s eyes go wide, knowing he’s hit a nerve. “You were. Was it the blond one? You couldn’t dribble the ball because you wanted to remember what her lips looked like.”
"Jer!" Lucas yells, and I know it's because Jen's the blond one.
"What the hell, man?" I'm still in front of him, now with Matt, Lucas, and Franco between us. The rest of the team stands back, but everyone's watching. "What the hell's gotten into you."
"Ha! Me? Oh, yeah, that's great." He looks around the locker room, grinning and waving his hands at the guys. "You hear this asshat who's supposed to be our captain. Shit, I should've been captain, and we both know it. At least I'd be straight up with my team."
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I look at Matt, who shakes his head, not having a clue. Neither do I. “We got a game tomorrow, so if you got some issue, you might as well lay it all out now.”
“We’re supposed to be able to trust you, Carter.”
Still not having a clue what he’s talking about, I look around the l
ocker room. “What the? My handles sucked today, so what? And so what if I missed a few shots.”
“Really?” Jeremy looks insulted. “You’re gonna make me say it?”
Lucas looks at me suspiciously, as if I’m hiding something. But I have no clue what Jeremy is talking about.
“Say what?!”
“You’re a liar, that’s what.”
“About what?”
“Guess who I hooked up with last night?”
My face drops. Now I know exactly why he's pissed. I look at Matt, who just raises his eyebrows. He only ever said it once, but he told me I should probably tell the guys that I didn't hook up with Sarah. That lying about it, even if I was just lying by omission, meant that if they found out, they'd either be mad or think I'm lame. All eyes in the locker room land on me. I'm about to get a first-hand lesson in rumors, fake or not, coming back around to bite you in the ass.
“Shit,” I mumble.
“Yeah.” Jeremy flashes a triumphant grin.
“What?” Lucas asks, his eyes floating back and forth between Jeremy and me.
Jeremy's in his element now. Acting like the big man on campus. I know it bothered him when I was named the captain, but seeing how he smugly looks around, I never realized just how much he hated not being known as captain of the team. Hell, not just the team, but all of us that hung around each other.
His smug expression hits me first before he looks around the locker room. "First off, in the vein of being honest, before I say this I want everyone to know Carter said it was cool. What were the words, Carter? ‘Sloppy seconds'?"
“Jeremy.” I shake my head. “It’s not a big deal.”
He looks at me like I just set someone on fire. “Not a big deal? You’re captain, asshole. If you lied about that, what the hell else would you lie about? So, yeah. I hooked up with Sarah Donovan.” Whispers hit the air, but I keep my eyes locked on him. “And guess what she had to say? Our captain here, Mr. Ladies’ Man, ain’t such a ladies’ man.”
“Jeremy,” Matt says, urging him to stop.
