by L A Cotton
I rolled my eyes. “Let me get this right. Your husband is home, making up for all his time away, and you want to get away for a bit?” A sarcastic laugh slipped from my lips. “I'll never figure you out.”
“So, are you in? Let’s go somewhere new. I'll pick you up in a couple hours?”
I had my night all planned out—Ben and Jerry's and my favorite go-to movie, but it would be easier to say yes than argue. “Fine.”
She squealed with delight and I groaned.
“You're the best.”
Three hours later, I found myself sitting in a booth of some bar, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me whole. I hadn't noticed him when we first arrived. Mae was too busy telling me all about her and Phil's makeup session, and I'd totally missed Keefer standing over by the pool table with his friends. Just what I needed.
From the concealed booth, I could watch him without being noticed. If he saw me arrive, he didn't show it—never once glancing in my direction. My excitement at seeing him was short-lived—the butterflies quickly replaced with a sinking feeling—when I saw a slim blonde approach him and cozy up next to him.
“Mae, watch my drink. Gotta pee.”
“Sure.” She eyed me with interest, watching me all the way to the restrooms.
I made a beeline for a stall. What was wrong with me? I didn't get like this over most guys. Usually, I wouldn’t look twice at someone like Keefer. The door opened, and I heard heels clank on the tiled floor.
“Girl, Zac looks so hot,” a soft voice said.
“Don't I know it. I literally panted when he walked in.”
I heard a zipper and then what sounded like make-up clattering on the counter.
“And what about Keefer? He's looking good.”
My ears pricked up and I shuffled quietly on the seat.
“Yeah, but you know what he's like, playing all hard to get. What I wouldn't give to end up under him, though,” the soft voice purred, sending shudders rippling through me. They knew Keefer, and from the sounds of it, one of them wanted to get to know him better.
“From what the guys have been saying, it sounds like he's got it bad for her,” the soft voice huffed in disgust. Perhaps this was the someone else—the reason Keefer broke off our kiss. “And from what you've been saying, she's a total slut. He wouldn't touch someone like that. He never looks twice at half the skanks in here, so I doubt he's going to touch Sharn Macer.”
My stomach spiraled and the color drained from my face. They were talking about me. And worse, it sounded like one of them knew me—the old me. I sat rigid on the seat, trying to breathe through the nausea bubbling up.
“Well, she was in high school. Probably still is. Just like her mother. Macer women are a sure thing, if you know what I mean.” Their laughs filled the small room.
They were laughing at me—at Mom. Is that what people really thought about me? That I was a man-stealing whore like my mother? No wonder Keefer looked panicked after he'd kissed me.
Silent tears trickled down my face until the sounds of their heels grew quiet and the door swung open and closed. I finally exhaled the breath I'd been holding. I couldn't stay locked away all night. Mae would eventually come looking. I had no choice. Wiping off my puffy eyes with some tissue, I left the stall. My face was a mess and I tried to clean my mascara-streaked eyes with water, blinking back the tears. I might have been a wild-child in school, but I wasn't that girl anymore. I wasn’t.
Plastering on a fake smile, I left the sanctuary of the restrooms and hurried back to the booth. Mae’s eyes narrowed in on me as I cast her a forced smile. “Where have you been? I was about to come looking,” she said through her straw.
“Sorry. My brother called,” I lied.
Mae continued droning on about Phil, as my eyes and logic fought a battle of whether to search out Keefer or not. Eventually, I risked a glance in his direction. The blonde was still sidled up to him. His body language seemed uninterested; he stood with his body turned slightly away from her, almost like he was trying to give her the brush off—until he looked up and his eyes found mine. They widened in surprise, but he quickly looked away, turning his attention to the modelesque girl next to him. He draped his arm around her shoulder and turned their backs to me. He didn't even smile at me. Was he ashamed to know me? I shrunk into the booth, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Are you okay? Your face looks weird. Like you've seen a ghost or something?”
A strained laugh escaped my lips. “I don't feel so good. Think I might be coming down with the stomach flu.”
“Eww. You want to go?”
“If you don't mind.”
As I followed Mae toward the exit, I couldn't help but risk one more glimpse. I instantly regretted it as I watched Keefer lean down and whisper something in her ear. She looked up at him and smiled, like he’d just given her the world. My grip on my purse tightened as I tried to swallow my tears.
Chapter 10
~ Keefer ~
I watched Sharn leave Durty's silently cursing myself. Fuck. I'd just messed up—again. But when I looked up and saw her, I panicked. The last thing I wanted was Aubrey creating a scene when she recognized Sharn. She’d made no attempt to hide her dislike of her. So, I did the first thing that came into my head; I put my arm around Simmy and turned our backs to Sharn, hoping the girls wouldn’t notice her.
My fucktard plan backfired, and Sharn obviously took my attempt at saving her from Aubrey and Simmy’s claws as a sign of my disinterest and left. Now I was stuck with Simmy thinking she had a shot.
“So, you wanna come back to my place, Keef?”
Zac smirked. He hadn’t noticed Sharn so was misunderstanding my sudden interest in Simmy. I glared at him as I said, “Hmm, not tonight. I’ve got an early start.”
Simmy looked up at me through hooded eyes, making no attempt to hide the fact she was eye fucking me. “Come on…” She dragged out the n—almost begging. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
These girls were un-fucking-believable. Calling out Sharn for her past, when here she was offering it right up on a plate to me. “Maybe another time, yeah.” I shrugged her off and headed toward the bar.
Zac caught up with me, shoulder checking me. “Dude? Please tell me you’re going to bang Simmy?
“Fuck off. I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.”
“What’s eating you? You were fine twenty minutes ago. Then, all of a sudden, you’re acting interested in Simmy. Now you don’t want to follow through?”
I picked up the beer the bartender had placed in front of me. “Sharn was here.”
He looked around. “What? Where?”
“She’s gone.” I took a long pull on the Bud.
“So, why the change in mood, man?”
“I didn’t want Aubrey getting her claws out and making a scene. You know what a crazy bitch she can be.”
“And…”
“I thought if I distracted Simmy that it’d prevent a scene.”
“You’re going soft, Smith.” He laughed. “Wait, there’s more isn’t there? You have that look.”
“What look?”
The corner of Zac’s lip curled up. “You want to say more, but you’re not sure if you should.”
Fisting my hair, I sighed. “I kissed her.”
“Fuck, man” He slapped me on the back. “Good for you.”
“There’s more…”
“Please tell me you boned her?”
“Seriously?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I wish. Fucktard here kissed her then dismissed her.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head. “Seriously, what is your problem, man? I thought you wanted her.”
“Shit. I do. But I didn’t mean to kiss her. After the fight, she was all panicked. Talking at me at a hundred miles an hour. Before I knew it, I was kissing her.”
“That’s one way to shut her up.”
“Yeah, well it shut her up when I pretty much pulled her away and told h
er to get lost.”
“Bro, you didn't?”
“I might as well have.”
Aubrey strutted toward us, making a beeline for Zac, and he wrapped his arm around her, brushing her cheek with his lips. I snorted to myself. Yeah right was he only fucking her. The guy had it bad.
“Come on, babe. Let's get out of here. Keefer, you gonna make sure Simmy gets home?” Her eyes questioned me, darting from me to Simmy.
“Hmm, I don’t think so. Got shit to do.”
“Like?”
“Leave it, Aubrey. Come on, let's get you home.” Zac patted her ass, and she squealed. “Catch you later, man?”
“Yeah, whatever.” I turned my attention back to my beer.
~
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stalked into the bedroom. I didn’t stick around after Zac and Aubrey left. My cell phone had almost burned a hole in my pocket on the walk home—daring me to text Sharn and explain. She didn't know that I had her number, but I'd managed to sneak it off the paperwork after the game. My Yankees jersey was the first thing that I pulled out of the small black wardrobe. My room was minimalistic: dresser, wardrobe, queen-size bed, and baseball paraphernalia filling three high-gloss shelves on the bare wall.
As my body relaxed into the bed, I reached for my cell and stared at it. What would I say? Shit. Zac was right. I was turning into a pussy. My fingers started typing and I read back the text. I sounded pathetic. I hit delete. My free fist clenched in frustration. I tried again.
Me: Hi. It's Keefer. Sorry about earlier. I would've came over and said hi, but I didn’t want to interrupt you and your friend. All set for next Tuesday? Principal Delaney seemed keen for the program to continue. Got something special arranged for the last week.
I scrolled down for her number and hit send before I could chicken out. It wasn't much of an apology, but it was the best that I had. After staring at the damn thing for at least five minutes, I threw the phone back onto the dresser to the side of the bed and closed my eyes. The first girl who I'd ever felt anything for and I chased her off, and then made her think that I was into Simmy Johnson.
My hand searched for the culprit of the beeping sound. I rolled onto my back and rubbed my eyes. I'd fallen asleep. The alarm clock read two in the morning. Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I tracked the sound to the dresser. My message notifications must've been set to beep continuously. Reaching out, I grabbed the phone and brought it to my eye line. One new message.
Sharn: Don’t worry about it. Yeah, see you Tuesday.
Fuck. My poor attempt at an apology obviously didn’t hit the mark—she was pissed. It was pointless to try to analyze the eight words. They said all they needed to say. Rolling back onto my front, I chucked the phone to the side of me and squeezed my eyes shut. Same shit, different day.
~
I kept busy all weekend trying to think about anything other than Sharn. I couldn’t get her out of my damn mind. Her cute little ass in her gym pants. Big curls bouncing as she walked. The look on her face after I kissed her. The rejection in her eyes when she noticed me and Simmy in Durty's. The hurt on her face as she left. She'd buried herself deep, and it was starting to frustrate me. I didn’t like feeling out of control—I worked hard to keep things in order. And now that it was almost time to see her again, I felt like a nervous-as-fuck teenager hoping to score and make it past first base.
The second I saw her walking toward the field—hair scraped back on top of her head, eyes hidden under her tan glasses, a gym suit hugging every inch of her—I was done for. Zac was right…I had it bad. I just didn’t know what to do about it.
“Yo, Coach. Are we forgiven yet?” Kenny boomed across the field.
“We'll see.” I raised my eyebrow as more of the boys joined him and formed a semi-circle around me. “Did you all complete your detention? Or do I need to talk to Principal Delaney? Again?”
“We're good, Coach. Took our punishment like real men,” Marc called from the back of the huddle.
“Good. Glad to hear. Now, let's play some ball. Warm-ups, you all know the drill by now. Off you go.”
They broke out into their usual routine and I set to sorting out the bats and gloves. Sharn stayed away, taking her old seat on the bleachers. Damn, this shit was awkward. It was like going through a couple's argument without any of the perks. Summoning up some courage, I headed in her direction with the hope that she'd at least talk to me about a neutral topic.
“Hey.” I thrust my hands into my sweats and avoided looking at her directly.
“Hey.”
Okay, she wasn’t going to make this easy.
“No Keylon?”
She pretended to fiddle with her hoodie zipper. “No, he's not back until tomorrow.”
“Okay. How was your week off?”
“Okay.”
I didn’t know what to say next, but thankfully, Kenny’s voice cut through the tension. “Yo, Coach. We’re done.”
“I’d better get back to them.”
Sharn offered a weak smile. At least it wasn’t a scowl, I thought to myself on the jog back to the group, who were winding down from their warm-up.
“Okay, a fresh start. Let’s leave what happened at Newberry there.” Sixteen heads nodded in agreement. “Work hard for the next five weeks and it’ll be worth it.”
I didn’t want to let them in on the surprise that I had up my sleeve, if I could even pull it off. But bribery, as always, was a usual tactic to rein in behavior.
“Ah, Coach, you can’t say that and then leave us hanging.”
I threw a ball at Jared and laughed. “Let’s play ball.”
~
The boys killed it on the field. My game was totally off since I couldn’t stop myself from checking Sharn out. She seemed interested in the game but gave little away—remaining hidden under her glasses. I left the boys to pack up the equipment and strolled over to her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just watching.”
“Umm, listen. About the other week-”
Sharn heaved a sigh, gripping the bench with her fingers. “Keefer, don’t. It’s fine, I get it. Besides, I’ve got enough to worry about right now without overanalyzing whatever in the hell happened in that grimy bar.”
My inner guy cheered—she’d been thinking about it. “You want to talk about it? I might not say much, but I’m a good listener?”
“Family stuff. Everything’s screwed up at home. You don’t want to hear about it.”
“Hey, I know all about screwed-up families. If you want, we could grab a drink after the session?”
Her shoulders relaxed at my suggestion and I silently cheered, again. She was close to forgiving me.
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t have many people to talk to.” She lifted her glasses off her eyes and balanced them on her head. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled.
Damn, she had a killer smile.
“Let me round things up and we can make plans.” I left her sitting on the bleachers and went to help the boys. Some of them had already escaped clean-up duty, but Kenny, Jared, and Micah were still packing away the bases and gloves.
“Yo, Coach. Miss M okay?” His eyes were full of accusation.
“She’s fine, why?”
“Well, we were just wondering what was going on between you two,” Jared asked bluntly.
I tensed. These kids sure had some balls. “Who? Me and Miss M? Boys, you have it all wrong.”
They smirked and I knew there was more coming. “Coach, we might be ninth graders, but we’re not blind. We’ve seen the way that you look at her. You’re into her.”
I smiled, shaking my head. Damn, they were smart, too.
“So, come on, tell us. Are you two hooking up?”
There were starting to overstep the mark, and I didn’t like it. Some harmless banter was one thing, but they were pushing it. “Leave it, boys. I’m warning you,” I said.
“You can tell us, Coach. We won’t say anything. Jared wants a few tips
. There’s a tenth grader who he’s after.”
Jared rugby tackled Kenny and they rolled to the floor.
“Come on, guys. Knock it off. We’ve got to get this stuff to the truck.” I grabbed the big equipment bag and the boys picked up the remaining gear. We walked back to the truck and loaded it in.
“Coach, give us something, anything,” Micah pleaded. His big brown eyes were hungry.
“You guys are unreal. Listen, and listen close.” I beckoned them and they gathered around like I was about to let them in on the secrets of the world. “When, and notice that I say when, you’re ready to be getting involved with girls, take your time. There’s no rush, don’t jump in headfirst. Wait for that spark. You’ll know it when you find it. You don’t want to end up with some high-maintenance chick who’s all about flashing your cash. Or the chick who’s been with all your friends.”
Jaws dropped, their eyes grew into saucers as they watched me like I was speaking alien. Jared managed to choke out, “Hmm right, Coach. So, where does Miss M fit in?”
Seriously, they needed to drop this shit. If I let on how I felt about her, I’d never hear the end of it. More than that—it wasn’t appropriate. I was their coach. “She doesn’t. Believe me when I say there’s nothing and never will be anything going on between us.” I shrugged and told them to get the hell outta here.
I turned around to go tell Sharn I was ready to head out, but she was only a few feet away walking in my direction. “Hey, we’re all done here. Ready to get that drink?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Umm, something came up. I can’t… something came up.”
Disappointment flooded me—a familiar feeling—but this seemed different somehow. “Oh, right. Maybe another time?”
“Yeah, maybe.” She hurried to her car and left me standing with my mouth hanging open, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Chapter 11
~ Sharn ~
“…you don’t want to end up with some high-maintenance chick who’s all about flashing your cash. Or the chick who’s been with all your friends.”
