by Amber Garza
“Two guys, huh?” Now both eyebrows lifted. “Wow, you’re moving fast.”
“It sounds to me like it’s time to slow down,” Dad muttered, nervously twirling his fork in between his thick fingers.
Exasperated, I waved away his words with my arms. “No, I’m not interested in two guys.” I paused. “There’s this kid at school – Preston. He’s a nice kid. Kinda weird, I guess, but nice. But everyone picks on him. He’s constantly being bullied, and I’m like the only person who ever even seems to care. No one sticks up for him at all.” As the words tumbled from my lips, my anger built, each word like a block being stacked on top of another one. “Today he got beat up by a couple of bigger guys – football players. And it just made me so mad, you know? So I told him I’d help him.” Lowering my head, I bit my lip. “The problem is, I just don’t know how to.”
“Well, I hope you took him to the office to report the fight,” Dad said, spearing a piece of broccoli on his fork. “Gold Rush High has a zero tolerance policy.”
“He said he’s gone to the office numerous times. The school never helps him,” I responded.
“That doesn’t seem right. Are you sure you can trust this kid?” Dad narrowed his eyes.
That was the thing about Dad. Everything was black and white to him. And he’d always believed in fairness and justice. Maybe because things had always seemed to go his way. But I knew better than that. Life wasn’t always fair. Rules didn’t always protect you. Those in authoritative positions didn’t always look out for your best interest. I’d learned these things the hard way. Every school I’d ever gone to had anti-bullying rules, but that never stopped kids from doing it. Not only had I witnessed my share of bullying, but I’d been a recipient many times too. And, let me tell you, anti-bullying rules rarely protected us.
“I don’t think he’s making this up, Dad.” I balled my napkin in my fist. “Why would he? The poor kid is being harassed daily at school. I’m pretty sure he’d want to do anything to make it stop.”
“If that’s the case, then what are you going to do?” Dad asked. “Are you going to step in and defend him? Coming from a guy, I can assure you that will only make things worse for him.”
It was the same thing Preston had said.
“You’re compassionate, Chloe. It’s one of the things I love about you,” Dad continued. “But you can’t save everyone. And this is way out of your league. The only person that can help this boy is his parents, the staff at the school, or himself.”
“Himself?” I had expected the first two, but the last one threw me.
“This is going to sound harsh,” Dad started, “but kids know how to spot the weakest link. They tend to pick on the kids who let them. Preston needs to fight back. Maybe take a defense class or two.”
My insides coiled. There was no way I would tell Preston to fight back. How would that be helping him? If he was capable of defending himself, wouldn’t he have done it by now? I sank further into the depths of hopelessness with each of Dad’s words.
“Chloe.” Mom extended her hand, placing it over mine. I was glad she was finally chiming in. It’s not that I didn’t respect my dad’s opinion, but he’s like Holden. All muscles and good looks. He’d never been bullied in school. I’d thumbed through his old high school yearbooks. He was Mr. Popular Football star. Therefore, his stance on this wasn’t surprising. “I think you’re already helping this boy.”
“I am?” I asked, puzzled.
“You said that no one is nice to him. No one cares.” Mom smiled. “Maybe he’s never stuck up for himself because he’s never had anyone believe in him. Friendship is a powerful thing. Supporting someone is huge.” I could read the pride in Mom’s eyes when she gently squeezed my hand. Her soft floral scent wafted under my nose. I knew that scent would linger on my skin long after I left the dinner table. And I was okay with that. It was that scent that I had been finding comfort in since I was a child. “Just keep being his friend. Keep encouraging him. It’s not complicated. Trust me. It’s all the help he needs.”
Nodding, I did trust Mom. Something about the passion in which she spoke told me that she knew what she was talking about. And it made me wonder if there was a time in Mom’s life when she needed a friend. When she needed someone to help her. Mom didn’t talk much about her past. I knew my parents met in college, and Dad had regaled me with stories of his high school football years. But now that I thought about it, Mom never shared stories of her high school experiences. I never pondered it before because it didn’t seem to matter. Besides, Mom was one of those women who believed in living in the moment, so it always made sense to me. However, now I was curious, and wondered if there were other reasons she’d never talked about it.
CHAPTER 13
Holden
I wasn’t sure how I would prove myself to Chloe until now. The answer stood right in front of me wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans, glasses sliding down his nose. Preston was hunched over his backpack in front of an open locker. After zipping it up, he stood and readjusted his glasses. Then he slammed his locker shut, and the metal rattled on the hinges. His eyes widened, his body stiffening when he saw me approaching. As I got closer, his gaze shifted the hallway like he was searching for backup.
Oh, hell. He was afraid of me. I’d never given him any reason to be, never picked on him. Still, I didn’t blame him for being wary. It’s not like I’d ever reached out to him. I’d never lifted a finger to help, never stood up for him, never even spoke to the guy. But that would change today. I was determined to show Chloe I was a good guy. Not a bully like Ryan. She was giving me a second chance, and I wouldn’t blow it.
“Hey, Preston,” I greeted him with a smile.
He took a step backward, his head hitting the locker behind him. I winced. That couldn’t have felt good.
“Relax,” I told him, putting out a steadying hand as if he was a stray cat I was attempting to calm. And actually that’s what he reminded me of – a skittish cat. Students filled the halls, voices circling us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few of them peering over curiously. My chest tightened. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just being friendly.”
He snorted. “Heard that before.”
By the way his hands shook and he inched away from me, I was betting that was true. My stomach hurt at the thought. Had he really been tricked into thinking someone was being nice just to end up being attacked? Remembering how Ryan teased Chloe, my stomach knotted. Had she experienced the same thing? Was that why she was so upset about this? I had to fist my hands at my sides as anger overtook me. I would seriously beat the hell out of someone who hurt Chloe. Shaking my head, I willed my body to calm and focus. The surge of anger came out of nowhere, surprising me. I hardly knew Chloe. Why was I already so protective of her? What was it about her that made me so desperate to make her mine?
“I’m being serious, man,” I said to Preston.
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, yeah?” Amidst the skepticism was a glimmer of hope.
“Hey, loser,” Ryan’s voice bellowed over my shoulder. When I turned, his gaze was trained on Preston. “Holden doesn’t swing that way, okay? So take your nasty thoughts and get the hell outta here.” His arm shot out and he shoved Preston against the locker.
“Ry!” I said, attempting to stop him. But it was too late. Preston scrambled away from us, his expression hard. Clearly, he thought I set him up for this. “What the hell, man?”
“Sorry.” He shrugged. “I didn’t realize you wanted to mess with him yourself.”
I froze, dark hair catching my attention. Chloe stood just feet away, and judging by the look on her face I’d say that she caught the whole show. Damn it. I glanced over at Ryan before walking away. “Is it possible for you to stop acting like a dick for two seconds?”
“I could try, but I’m not making any promises.” Ryan flashed me a grin.
“Hey, man.” Sawyer joined us.
“Riddles, what’s up?” Ryan lifted his ha
nd and they engaged in a fist bump.
I had to get out of here. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Spinning around, I went after Chloe. She was already at the end of the hallway, but I wove through the students, moving quickly.
“Chloe!” I called after her.
Her body flinched, but she didn’t turn. In fact, she moved faster, disappearing around the corner. Shit. Taking a deep breath, I slowed down.
“Holden?” Bethany’s voice was like a splash of cold water on my face.
A frustrated breath escaped through my lips. She was the last damn person I wanted to see at this moment. Pressing my lips into a tight line, I stared at her. I was hoping my hard expression would scare her, but I should’ve known better. Bethany never did know when to walk away.
“Why do you need the new girl? Did she drop something?” She glanced down at my hands. This was a classic Bethany tactic.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Beth,” I said.
Her cheeks colored. “What would I have to be jealous about? I have a boyfriend, remember?”
My insides twisted. How could I forget? Her boyfriend was the guy she had cheated on me with.
“Besides, I’d never be jealous of a band geek.” Her brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re not like seeing her or something, are you?”
So this was all about getting information from me. That made sense. Bethany always was one for gossip. I shoved past her. “Nice to see you, Beth. Tell Dusty I said hi.”
“His name’s Rusty,” she corrected me.
“Is it?” My lips tugged at the edges as I swaggered away from her. She may not have known when to walk away, but I sure as hell did.
Once I rounded the corner, I glanced around at the last place I’d seen Chloe. The hallway had cleared out. When the bell rang out, I sighed. It seemed I couldn’t catch a break when it came to Chloe.
But I wasn’t giving up.
Not now.
Not ever.
Chloe had no idea who she was up against. Ask any guy on the team. I never backed down. I was relentless. I fought. I won. Every time. And this time would be no different.
Chloe avoided me the remainder of the week. Whenever I tried to approach her she took off. I thought of chasing her, but decided against it. There were a lot of girls who would respond to being chased. Girls who would love it even. Bethany was like that. She got a kick out of the chase. Liked making me humiliate myself for her. Liked knowing that I would run around like a freaking idiot for her. Chloe didn’t strike me as that kind of girl. No, this wasn’t about her wanting to be pursued. This was about me proving I was worthy of her.
About me proving that I wouldn’t treat her the way others had treated her at school. That I wasn’t the kind of guy who judged others based on looks and social status. Since I knew chasing her was out, I had to come up with a different plan. Grand, romantic gestures were something I could do, but I wasn’t sure if that would work either.
I didn’t have much time to mull over options since my week was jam-packed with school work and football practice. Before I knew it, the Friday night game was upon me. As I stood on the field in my football gear, bright lights shining down, I felt at peace for the first time all week. All the turmoil I’d been experiencing dissipated. Even my irritation with Ryan flew out the window. On the football field, he wasn’t my friend. He was my teammate. He was the best damn wide receiver I knew. And we made a great team. The only chink in my armor was when I spotted Mom in the bleachers, sitting alone. My heart pinched at James’ absence. Where the hell was he lately? But I shoved away the thought, vowing to take care of him later. This was what football did for me. It grounded me. It was my happy place. The place I felt most content. With a football in my hand and turf under my feet, I could let everything else go.
I wondered if it was this way for Chloe when she played her instrument. And it was at that moment when I knew exactly what I had to do.
And I had to do it tonight.
CHAPTER 14
Chloe
I’d been taking Mom’s advice, and it seemed to be working. Preston appeared to be coming out of his shell a little, and he was happier than when I’d first met him. Perhaps that was what he needed the entire time. Just someone to befriend him. It was so simple. And it bothered me that no one else had tried it before. He wasn’t that bad. God, the other kids acted like he had leprosy or something. It didn’t make sense to me, and I felt like I was missing something.
After adjusting my hat, I turned away from the mirror in the band room and spotted Preston in the corner. He was bent over his instrument’s case fiddling with something inside. His eyes were downcast, his face shrouded in the shadows. A couple of kids sidestepped him, and he glanced up, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. The look he shot them was chilling, and it hit me. Kids didn’t act like he had leprosy, they acted like they were scared of him.
“Hey.” Jasmine’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I flinched. When my head turned in her direction, her eyebrows knit together. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. When I glanced back at Preston he was looking right at me, his expression pensive. But when our eyes locked, a smile swept across his face. My shoulders relaxed, and I grinned back.
“Cool, because we’ve gotta head out,” Jasmine said.
“It’s already time?” I shook out my hands, releasing my nerves. We’d done all right at our first competition, but not great. Mr. Grant had been riding us hard since then. But the truth was that I wasn’t nervous about not performing well.
I was nervous about seeing Holden.
After witnessing Holden and Ryan picking on Preston the other morning, I’d steered clear of Holden. But that didn’t stop him from staring at me whenever our paths crossed. I hated that my heart skipped a beat whenever I caught his eyes piercing into mine. No matter how much I wanted to dislike him, deep down there was a part of me that was drawn to him. He was gorgeous. That much was obvious, but usually I wasn’t sucked in by looks. I’d never been that shallow. So what was it about Holden that intrigued me so much?
Jasmine and Gianna talked animatedly by my side as we trekked out to the field. As we neared it, I slowed down. Holden stood across the field with the ball in his hand. The bright light above him shone down like a spotlight. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he threw the ball toward a teammate. The muscles in his arm bulged with the effort. Even though his helmet obscured his face, his dark eyes were visible, and it made my stomach flip. Damn, why’d he have to be so hot?
After our team scored a touchdown, halftime was called, and the players jogged off the field. My heart thumped in my chest as I walked forward, my eyes watching Holden. I prayed he wouldn’t spot me. We all matched, so it would be hard to find me in this crowd. Lowering my head, I hoped to blend in. I stepped in line with the rest of the band as we made our way onto the turf. Out of the corner of my eye, I observed the football players as they exited the field. My heart sank when Holden ran off without even a second glance back to me. It’s what I wanted, so why did it irk me? Mentally scolding myself for my wishy-washy emotions, I stalked forward, clutching tightly to my saxophone.
The air was cool tonight as it feathered over my face. But my long-sleeved uniform kept me warm. More than warm. It was a freaking sauna in this thing. Numb, I made my way over to my spot on the field. Standing up tall, I held my saxophone in front of me and stared forward at the drum major. Taking a deep breath, I waited for her cue. The music started up, loudly spilling through the speakers surrounding us. When the drum major raised her arm, I lifted the saxophone and closed my lips around the mouthpiece. My gloved fingers pressed down on the notes as I played. Tuning out thoughts of Holden and all the other things crowding my mind, I focused on the notes I needed to play, and the placement of my feet as I marched. I moved skillfully over the field, losing myself in the music and the movements. When the show wound down, I slowed. The drum major dropped her arms, and I lowered my instrument. Blinking, I scann
ed the stadium as if seeing it for the first time. That’s what playing was like for me. I got caught up in it. It was the only time I could quiet my racing thoughts and just be me.
As my gaze scoured the bleachers, I saw my parents sitting in the second row. Mom was drinking a bottle of water, and Dad had his hand in a bag of chips. Both of them wore excited grins. Seriously, they made better teenagers than I did. Turning to leave the field, my breath caught in my throat. Holden stood at the edge of the field, his gaze glued to me. He had one arm slung over the metal fence separating the field from the bleachers. The relaxed way he stood there caused me to wonder if he’d been there the entire show.
I didn’t dare allow myself to ponder what that meant if he had been.
Forcing my legs to move, I stepped forward. I barely got two steps down when Holden pushed off the fence and swaggered in my direction. His cleats crunched on the turf as he neared us. Swallowing hard, I could hear my heart hammering in my ears as if it had literally traveled from my chest and now resided in my head. Holden elbowed his way through the band students, his gaze never leaving me. The hunger in his eyes crashed over me like a powerful ocean wave. What the hell was he doing? Curious glances and loud whispers spun around me the closer he got. When he reached me, I stopped walking, afraid I would walk right into his chest.
Before I could register what was happening, his hand reached up to cup my face. He was so close I could smell sweat and the faint scent of his deodorant. I sucked in a breath, unable to move.
“You were amazing,” Holden breathed.
“You saw?” I whispered, not fully trusting my voice right now.
“The entire thing.” He grinned, his hand still on my face. “And now I know.”
“Know what?” I bit my lip. It terrified me how much I liked the feel of his hand on my skin. I prayed he’d never release it.
“That you love music the way I love football. I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you did in your element.”
