Hey, remember me? I know we were getting busy last night, and I don’t have a clue who you are, but do you mind telling me what stupid shit came out of my mouth? Doubted that would go over well.
Dr. Monroe cleared his throat, forcing me out of my daze. Most of the class was gone or almost out the door.
“Is there a problem today, Mr. Betts?” He rocked back on his heels, clutching that ugly ass leather case in front of him.
I shrugged. “No, why?”
“You seem…distracted.” A smile lifted his salt-and-pepper mustache. “Again. I hope this class isn’t boring you too much. Miss Fine says you’re coming along quite nicely in your tutelage, but it appears you are somewhere else during my lectures. Please, do your best to make an effort to pretend to listen.”
I stood and almost crumpled as my knee gave. The groan slipped from my lips.
“And try not to be late. In your condition, it doesn’t do well to run just yet.”
I glanced at my professor. There was something about this man that made me hate him, actual physical hate. The kind that seeped from your pores and made you want to vomit venom all over his cheap shoes. He smirked and strolled out of the room, without a care in the world.
It took me longer than normal to get to lunch. My entire leg throbbed, and I longed for my crutches and a handful of painkillers. And a bottle of Jack. I would’ve gone back for them, but the food was closer. Seth, Barry, and Chuck sat at our usual booth when I plopped down without bothering to get food. I needed a break.
The guys weren’t alone, either. Candy sat by Barry and the blonde from the party clung to Chuck. If Dr. Monroe made me want to hurl chunks, the presence of these girls made me downright bulimic.
Seth’s face lit up. “You give new meaning to ‘let’s get stupid,’ dude.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen you get drunk like that,” Chuck added as he tugged Blondie closer. “This is Hailey, by the way.”
Hailey stuck her hand out and limply shook mine. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Barry smiled at me like he had a secret. By the way Candy was inching closer to him, I bet he did.
“Where’s your lunch?” Chuck asked.
I pulled a chair up and lifted my leg. My knee was definitely swollen. Two bowling balls swollen.
“What’d you do this time?” Seth asked. He leaned over with one eyebrow raised. “This wasn’t from last night’s…exploits, was it?”
Chuck and Barry burst into laughter. The girls stared at the four of us like we’d lost our minds.
“Had to get to class on time. It hurts like a bitch.” I tried to straighten it, but pain tugged the muscles closer to its center. “I just needed to sit down before I get a burger.”
“Gotcha covered, Betts. My treat.” Chuck turned to Hailey. “Babe, could you and Candace get a burger, fries, and a Sprite?”
“Both of us?” Candy asked with her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. We need a minute with our boy here to discuss something,” Barry answered. He reached out and touched her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I suddenly lost my appetite. Seth apparently did, too, by the way he pretended to hurl. The girls left and stood in line. Thankfully, it was a very long line.
“What happened to a Beetle in a seven-forty-seven hangar?” I asked Barry.
He shrugged as a huge grin spread across his face. “Everybody’s gotta park somewhere.”
“Man, that is just wrong.” Seth dropped his hot dog back onto his plate.
“Speaking of parking, did you find a new spot to pull into?” Chuck wiggled his eyebrows as if I didn’t get his meaning.
“You could say that, I guess.” I shifted in my seat, not really wanting to discuss this with any of them, but they knew exactly what went down.
“What do you mean you guess?” Seth asked. He took a long pull off his soda, and I could see the light ding in the attic. Now he got it. “You don’t fucking remember? Man, I knew you were drunk, but damn.”
“I can’t believe nobody’d remember bagging that fine piece of ass,” Barry added. He glanced over to check on the girls. They chatted away, oblivious to his stare.
I ran my hand over my face. “Just tell me what happened. Fill in the blanks.”
“Dude, I wasn’t there for all of it,” Seth said with a laugh. Chuck joined in. Barry shook his head and scribbled into his ever-present notebook.
If I had the energy, I would’ve hit all three of them. “You know what I mean.”
“Well, she was eyeballing you the minute we got there, but you needed some liquid courage.” Chuck slapped my shoulder. “Tequila, to be precise. She kept bringing you shots. Man, every time you downed one, you kept saying ‘Let’s get stupider.’ Seth stopped after the fifth shot, but you kept going. That waitress came over, talked you up a bit, then gave you the old ‘I get off in an hour’ line and you were all ‘Maybe we both will’.”
“Please, tell me I didn’t say that,” I groaned. Cheap lines and alcohol, I never thought I’d stoop so low.
Seth laughed. “Yeah, that I do remember.”
“Then she changed her tune. The bar was dead, so she clocked out early and said she’d take you home. That was the last we saw of you until now.” Chuck slapped my shoulder again. “You wanted to get stupid, you got stupid and laid.”
“Yeah, I’ve done worse.” Seth tapped the table. “I think.”
“Blow it off, big guy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Barry drummed his pen against the table. He dropped it and headed toward the food line.
He had a point. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I wasn’t tied down. Why not have a good time? The grin spreading over my face made them laugh.
“Guys, just tell me one thing. What in the hell was her name?” I asked, feeling foolish but desperate for the information.
Chuck and Seth stared at me as if I’d just come out of the closet. Then they broke into laughter loud enough that several of the tables around us stopped to enjoy the show. I joined in, a little self-conscious, but I couldn’t stop myself. It didn’t take me long before I felt like a complete ass. Over Seth’s shoulder, I spied Mallory sitting at her usual table. Instead of reading, her eyes were focused on us.
“You’re too much, Betts.” Seth stood and stretched his arms over his head. A girl walked by, distracting him faster than a squirrel distracts a dog. He took off after her without another word.
“What, or rather who, are you staring at, young whippersnapper?” Chuck asked in his terrible fake accent that sounded like absolutely nothing on this planet. Of course, he thought he was impersonating Jimmy Stewart, although it was highly unlikely he’d ever seen one of Stewart’s movies.
Chuck leaned closer, stinking of sweat and cheap cologne, and peered over the back of the booth. Mallory’s eyes widened, and she dropped her head back into her book.
“Ah,” he whispered. “She’s the reason you feel guilty. She’s cute. Not your usual type, but cute.” He moved back into his own space and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.
“What’s my usual type, Freud?” I wasn’t about to tell him he was wrong.
Chuck shrugged as Hailey bent over him, shoving a tray of food in front of me. The smell of greasy cheeseburger wafted up to my nose, rumbling my stomach in both good and bad ways. I sipped the Sprite and waited for Chuck to answer my question. I knew he would in a matter of time. Normally when I least expected it.
“Hot and innocent,” Chuck said as soon as I stuck the burger in my mouth. I almost choked on the damned thing. He might have planned for that. “Not cute and hiding from the world.”
As soon as I swallowed, I asked, “What’re you talking about?”
Hailey stared at us in rapt attention. Barry and Candy were oblivious in their own little touchy-feely world across the table. I wanted to tell them to get a room, but they’d probably take me up on that. Or ask for the key to my dorm.
“Look, Trish ha
d this whole sweet angel thing going on, which was totally fake, but you fell for it. And she’s got a smoking bod with a rack that could feed a starving nation. That girl over there is cute in a girl-next-door way, not a bang-your-neighbor way. Besides, just look at her. There’s no reason for her to sit alone unless she wants to be alone. She’s hiding something, man.” He glanced over Barry’s shoulder again. “And she’s not going to let you in on it easily.”
“Wow,” Hailey said in complete awe of Chuck’s insight. She stared at him with idol worship in her eyes.
“Bullshit. She’s seeing some dickhead with a faux hawk.” I, on the other hand, was used to Chuck’s insight. There was a reason Chuck was majoring in psychology. “What else you got?”
“Faux hawk?” When I nodded, he glanced at her again. “Hmm, that might put a damper on things but, considering she’s checked you out a few times, I’d say patience is your best friend.”
Nodding, I finished my burger, occasionally checking to see if Mallory was looking my way. I never caught her. Maybe Chuck was giving me false hope. He was good at that, too. Last season during a slump, he’d convinced me that my swing was back before a game. That was the night I hit for the cycle. I’d only realized what he’d done after the fact.
If patience was my friend, confusion was my lover. Me and Mallory? I barely knew her. And she didn’t even want to get to know me. It didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense.
But what did make sense these days?
Barry took me to therapy that afternoon. He decided to hang around and see if Angela would let him observe. Like me, Barry was a junior. Unlike me, Barry didn’t have a clue what he was going to be when he grew up. He’d been contemplating physical therapy since last spring when his mom got into a car accident. She was fine, but her arm was broken in two places and she needed therapy. Barry went with her over the summer and thought that he might have found his career.
“What in the world did you do?” Angela asked as she examined my swollen knee.
My face burned with embarrassment. “Unintentionally jogged.” Possibly hurt it during a one-night stand. Oh, and I hit it with a door.
“Yeah, to beat his prof to class,” Barry added. I would’ve smacked him if he was closer.
Angela shook her head and spent the next five minutes chiding me for my stupid behavior. Once she ran out of words, she let her job punish me. Hell, she even let Barry observe my torture. He was over the moon.
“Aaron, I have to tell you this isn’t good.” Angela tossed a towel over her shoulder. She put her hand on my arm, stopping me in the middle of the room. Barry headed toward the water fountain near the exit. “I’m going to recommend you lay off physical therapy for a week and rest. If the swelling doesn’t go down by tomorrow, schedule an appointment with Dr. Cooper. He may need to drain it again.”
I nodded, thankful Barry didn’t hear any of that.
“If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll regret it later.”
Dad’s limp popped into my mind. He didn’t get it unless it was cold or wet, then his leg showed its age. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Modern medicine made it possible for a better recovery.
“She’s hot,” Barry said once we were safely in his car.
“What about Candy?” I settled into the torn bucket seat, trying not to think about Angela’s warning. The problem was the season. I’d have no choice but to redshirt. That wasn’t an option. Too long of a recovery could be seen as “injury prone” to scouts, even if this was my first real injury.
He ignored my question. “I’m going for it, man. That was amazing. Everything she mentioned about muscle atrophy and flexibility… She totally blew me away. When’s the next appointment?”
I stifled the yawn. “Should be the same time next Friday.” If I wasn’t taking a week off. Or more.
“Shit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “I’ve got a lab. Maybe next time after that. Am I taking you back to the dorm?”
“Library. I’ve got…a study group.” I stared out the window, wishing the constant throbbing would go away sooner rather than later. All I really wanted to do was go back to my room and fall into unconsciousness from pain meds.
“That sucks,” Barry said.
Not really, I thought as he turned up the radio, putting an end to any conversation and any chance of a fifteen-minute nap for me. Not that I’d be able to sleep without the drugs anyway. Maybe there was a safe, non-med way to get better. Seth had done it. He’d recovered from a torn rotator cuff faster than anticipated. Maybe he knew something.
A smile crept over my face as I turned my thoughts toward spending the next hour with Mallory Fine. No, tutoring didn’t suck at all.
Chapter Ten
My fingers clawed into my scalp as if that would release the answers from my brain. Mallory had decided I needed a pop quiz. Or that’s what she called it. It was more like a final exam. How was I supposed to remember all this shit?
Okay, think, Aaron. I tried to recall the day we talked about this. Mallory’s brilliant idea of mixing my baseball knowledge with historical events helped. If I could remember anything. Test anxiety never bothered me before, but this was an unusual situation. It didn’t help that the drumming in my knee intensified the harder I tried to remember. It also didn’t help to think about baseball.
Bay of Pigs invasion. Pigs. There was a movie about a pig. Babe, that was it. Roger Maris broke Babe Ruth’s home run record in 1961. The light bulb dinged in my head. That was the year of the Bay of Pigs invasion.
My head almost fell off at the next question: What year was JFK assassinated?
I spent several minutes trying to sort through it but came up with nothing.
The next forty minutes went the same. I finally handed the test back to Mallory, more exhausted than after dead lifting for an hour. Leaning back in my seat, I propped my leg on a chair and closed my eyes.
Mallory shook me awake a few minutes later. I yawned, stretching my arms over my head.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
She bent toward me and put her hand on my forehead. I inhaled her scent, a soft perfume of wildflowers and meadows. It took what little energy I had left not to lean in to her neck. The gentle touch of her palm on my forehead didn’t help any, either. I closed my eyes, imagining her hand sliding down my face. God, even my imagination was turned on.
“No fever.” She lifted her hand from my head.
I opened my eyes and stared at her, holding her with my gaze. “I’m just tired after the day I’ve had.”
“What happened?” She sat back in her chair.
The usual. Hurt my knee again. Oh, and I woke up from a one-night stand with a woman whose name I can’t remember. Yeah, telling her that was not a good idea. “Was almost late for class and ran to beat Monroe into the room.”
She nodded and bit her lower lip. “He hates it when his students are late.”
“He hates me, Mal,” I said.
Her eyes widened as if I’d slapped her in the face. I assumed it was because she idolized Dr. Monroe. I was wrong.
“Please don’t call me that,” she said. Each word laced with distress. The kind that only comes out when something unexpected happens. The kind that bears emotional scars that don’t ever heal.
“Okay.” My fingers curled into the fabric of my joggers. It was the only way to keep them to myself. “But can I ask why?”
She stared past me, lost in whatever memory the nickname conjured. Her eyes aged while I watched her. The twenty-one-year-old girl with a brilliant mind turned into an old soul, like she’d seen more in her brief life than I ever would in mine. When she didn’t seem capable of returning to the here and now on her own, I took the risk and reached out, resting my fingers on her forearm.
“Mallory?” I whispered, not wanting to startle her.
Her head snapped toward me, as if only now realizing that I was there. She glanced down to where my fingers touched her skin and pulled her a
rm out from beneath my hand. The trance was broken, but so was she. I’d thought I’d seen it before, but the darkness that filled her eyes confirmed it. “My…dad used to call me that.”
I zeroed in on the key words: used to. As in not any more.
“So how’d I do, Miss Fine?” I asked to change the subject. Little nuggets of information were all I needed. Take down the wall one brick at a time.
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and focused on the test, blinking as if it was the first time she’d seen it. “Not as good as I’d hoped.” Back to business. “You passed, but you can do better.”
For the next ten minutes, she went over the questions I got wrong, careful to praise the ones I got right. We were only halfway through the test when I yawned again. Then my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten anything since the burger at lunch.
Mallory smiled, the anguish that held her face captive a moment ago disappearing. “Sounds like you need to eat.”
The idea to ask her to join me again jumped into my head. I couldn’t be as direct as last time, so I decided to go with honest. “Mallory, listen, I got your message the other day. And I’m not asking you out, okay? Just so we’re clear.”
Her face stayed passive while she waited for the other shoe to drop.
Taking a deep breath, I continued, “But I would like us to be friends. And friends hang out, right?”
At that she nodded, still wary of where I was going with this. The tension in her face drew lines into her forehead that could cut ice from the Arctic.
“So, as friends, why don’t we go get something to eat? You can continue to chastise me about my test scores if you want.” I mentally begged her to say yes. She got me. She listened when I talked. She gave a shit about what I said, too. And I wanted to know more about her. I needed to know everything about her.
“I…” Her head dropped, and she twisted her fingers into a pretzel. I leaned down to get a better look at her expression. It wasn’t pained, but it wasn’t happy, either. It was like she was working out a puzzle. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Why?” I asked as gently as I could. My need to understand her was an incurable disease.
Full Count (Westland University) Page 7
