by Abbi Glines
I was that unimportant.
My defenses were back up. My moment of weakness ended. I had a purpose. I would enjoy this year. I’d live it like I wouldn’t get another, because the truth was I wouldn’t. This was the last year of high school. I had me to worry about. Not an injured Nash Lee. So his girlfriend broke his heart. Well boohoo. He’d broken mine. I was sure he’d also broken dozens of hearts. Now he was just getting a dose of it himself. And poor little Ryker Lee. His world wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t enjoy himself because his cousin was sad. Guess he’ll figure out life ain’t roses after all.
I plastered a smile on my face. “Excuse me, I need to get my salad,” I said, and stepped around both of them. Walking away, I felt empowered. I wasn’t letting my softness win. I was tossing their troubles aside and going to enjoy my day. My year.
Okay, so I felt like a bitch. But again, whose fault was that? Ugly words. Cruel words. Laughter at my expense. They hadn’t lost any sleep over it. They forgot it even happened moments after it was said. While I was walking in the heat of the day and drinking a gallon of water daily and counting my calories, those words and that laughter haunted me.
No. I wouldn’t feel sorry for Nash and his injury. So he didn’t get his college football career. Well, it could be worse. He had a brain still. He could do something else. And Ryker acting like he needed to be sheltered from the pain of disappointment. They both needed a dose of reality. Neither had experienced it until now.
They should try going to PE and knowing it was the day everyone had to climb the rope. The PE teacher was going to stand there and watch everyone. Use a stopwatch to see how fast we could climb the rope. See who could get to the top. And know that I couldn’t move an inch up that rope. Everyone would see me hanging there, wishing I could climb even a little. The snickers from the others would make my cheeks red. I would start to sweat, and my stomach would feel sick. I’d wish to be anywhere but there. The PE teacher would tell me to try harder. I could do it. But I couldn’t. My arms would never be strong enough to pull my weight up that rope. So . . . I’d give up. Humiliated. Unable to look anyone in the eye. Giggles and whispers would grow louder. The teacher would tell the others to stop. But it didn’t go away. I never forgot. That was my life. I had always been trying to climb that dang rope and never getting anywhere.
Not once did Nash or Ryker worry about me.
I fixed my salad. I got a cup of water. And I went outside. To a table to be alone. Because right now I wasn’t exactly happy with myself. Although I knew I was right. I just didn’t like the way right made me feel.
There Is No Light in My Future
CHAPTER 6
NASH
I tossed my book bag onto my bed and glared at it like it had done something wrong. I was home on the first day of school at three fifteen in the afternoon. This was a first. I should be at the field house. Changing into my pads. Making bad jokes with my friends. Practicing in the heat until I vomited. That was what I was supposed to be doing.
But I was here.
In my living nightmare. With absolutely nothing to do. There was homework. Reading that was mandatory. Physical therapy in an hour. Bullshit, bullshit, and more bullshit.
“Hey, baby.” My mother’s voice startled me. She was normally at work until five. I turned to see her standing at my door. Concern, pain, and a trace of hope in her eyes. She wanted me to be better. To find happiness with the way my life was now.
“Why are you home?” I asked, already knowing the answer. My mother who never took off from work or left early was here because of me.
“Oh, I took off early. Thought I could make you a chocolate cream pie before you go to therapy. Maybe talk about your day.” Her voice was cautious. She didn’t want to upset me. I’d been a pill to live with this summer. Since the accident at least.
“Not hungry. My day sucked.” She had wanted to hear something else. Something positive. I didn’t have anything positive to tell her, though. Not one damn thing. This was our reality. She needed to deal with it.
“It’ll get better,” she said softly. She wanted it to get better. She hoped it would. My mother was an eternal optimist. I had been one too, once. But not anymore.
“No. It won’t. I’m not going to run again. I’m going to walk with this limp. I’ll never play ball again. So no, Mom, it’s not going to get better. There is no light in my future.”
Her shoulders dropped, her face sad. I hated that it was me making her feel this way. But I just didn’t have the energy to make her smile. She liked to be happy. I did too. But that wasn’t happening again. It was all gone.
“You sure you don’t want some pie?”
One thing about mom was you couldn’t completely knock her off course. She held on until the bitter end. As for me, she hadn’t let go yet.
“Therapy is hard. It hurts, and if I eat pie before I go, I’ll vomit during therapy.” More reality. More truth. More of what she liked to pretend wasn’t happening.
“Okay. Well I’ll make some for later. It can be a treat for after. I’ll be in the kitchen if you want to talk. I’m always here to listen.”
“Thanks,” I managed to say. Simply because I hated hurting her. She started to leave but then stopped, came into the room, and hugged me tightly.
“I love you. I won’t let you give up. I’m your momma. I will never ever give up on you. You’ve got a big future, Nash Lee. A huge one. This is just a stumbling block. It’ll make you tough, stronger, and more determined.”
I just nodded and hugged her back. She needed to believe it, and I let her. No reason to make her as miserable as me. When she finally let me go, she patted my cheek, as if I were five inches shorter than her rather than the five inches I towered over her.
“Do your homework. Focus on your grades. You’ll do great things,” she said, then left the room, finally leaving me to my peace.
If I could think like my mother, maybe I wouldn’t be so damn miserable. Today had been a slap in the face. From seeing the guys I’d played ball with laughing and cutting up like we always had, to seeing excitement in the halls for Friday night’s game, to seeing Blakely hugged up on Hunter—all of it reminded me I wasn’t Nash Lee anymore. I was just another face in the crowd. Someone others would rather whisper about, force a smile at, and move on along.
That was what my day was like. That was what my mother needed to hear, but I couldn’t say that to her. She’d worry about it. Worry about me. She’d not get any sleep. I would have her hovering more than she already was. Keeping all that inside was how I had to deal with it.
I was standing at the window going over all this shit in my head when my dad’s truck pulled up outside. He should be at work until seven. But here he was, just like my mother, coming home early. To ask me questions I wasn’t going to answer. To give me another pep talk. I wasn’t in the mood for this. Grabbing my car keys off the bed, I headed for the back door. Away from the kitchen. Away from the way my dad would enter the house. Once I was safely outside and I knew he’d entered the house, I hurried to my Escalade and left.
Dad would call me once he realized I’d left without saying anything. He’d bitch. I’d listen. Then it would be over. I still had forty-five minutes before I had to be at physical therapy. I had nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Dad had suggested I get a job. It was more than a suggestion. It was a demand. I could go put in some applications. That would at least give me somewhere to be other than the house every afternoon.
Driving toward town, I saw her. Walking down the side of the street. I’d seen her today. She’d been impossible to miss. Tallulah Liddell had transformed over the summer. Even when we’d been kids, she’d struggled with her weight. Her sweet smile and kind heart, however, had shown brightly. It made her hard to overlook. Seeing her now, though, I could tell there was something missing.
Pulling over, I rolled down my window. “Need a ride?” I asked, surprising myself.
She paused and glanced at me. “No. I walk five
miles every day. This is on purpose.”
Oh. Well that explained the weight loss. “Impressive,” I replied.
She frowned. Studied me a moment, then shook her head as if she was baffled by me. “Is it? The fat girl started exercising. That’s impressive to you?” Definite disgust in her tone.
What the hell had I done to her? Far as I could recall, I’d been the only guy, or girl for that matter, who was nice to her. I didn’t ignore her. I had spoken to her often. She’d been so timid and shy, like she was hiding from the world. But I wouldn’t let her. I made sure she knew I saw her.
“Got a chip on your thin shoulders?” I asked, annoyed. I wasn’t in the mood for this. Why had I even stopped?
She jerked her head back in my direction. Anger flashing in her startling, attractive blue eyes. “Yes. I do. But then that’s why I walk. Why I started.” With that response she walked on, leaving me behind. Parked there on the side of the street like I’d done something to her. Jesus, what was her deal? She was thin, beautiful, and every guy at school had been drooling over her today. Wasn’t that all she wanted? Why she’d walked herself thin? At least she wasn’t fucking limping around getting sympathy looks.
I started to drive off and changed my mind. I turned off the engine and got out. I needed a confrontation. I had enough anger in me to take on Tallulah Liddell and her issues. With the slamming of my car door, she stopped and looked back at me.
I had her attention now.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did losing weight turn you into a bitch? If that’s your problem, then go eat a box of cookies. You were a helluva lot nicer when you ate. Being thin and wearing short skirts doesn’t give you the right to be rude.” As I yelled at her, I wondered why I was doing this. What was the point? I didn’t care how Tallulah acted. I had bigger problems in my life.
She took a step toward me. Her eyes were flashing with fury now. Well past anger. “No, Nash Lee, losing weight didn’t turn me into a bitch. You did.”
She’s Been on Pinterest
CHAPTER 7
TALLULAH
That might have been an unfair statement. Technically, he hadn’t turned me into a bitch. His actions had an impact on my anger, drive for revenge, and current state of mind. My health was better. My doctor had said as much. No longer was I at risk for type 2 diabetes. If I was honest with myself, that should have been reason enough for me to exercise and choose healthier foods. Instead, it had taken being made fun of by the one guy I liked.
Nash shook his head and let out a hard laugh. “Really? I’d love to hear how I am to blame for your current personality faults.” He was looking at me like I was insane. I was starting to feel that way.
My reasons seemed ridiculous now. Telling him that he had laughed at a fat joke about me seemed silly. Embarrassing. It also let him know how much his actions affected me. No one needed that kind of power.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” I snapped, then started walking again. Hoping he’d get in his stupid silver Escalade, that I had once dreamed of riding in, and drive away. Let this go.
“I’m to blame for a lot of shit, Tallulah. But being unkind to you was never one of those things. I’ve been nothing but nice to you.” Up until that moment last May, I would have agreed with him.
I kept walking. I didn’t look back. Doing so meant I had to explain myself. My anger toward him. I would not do that. He didn’t deserve it. After a few moments, and hearing nothing else from him, I chanced a glance in his direction. He was walking—no, he was limping—back to his car. I watched as his once confident swagger was now one that looked painful. Complicated.
Even after all that had happened since the last day of school, my chest still ached watching him. Seeing him struggle like that wasn’t easy. I felt guilty for being so mean. For holding that one thing against him. He was hurting, he was angry, and, oddly, he seemed alone. I knew he had friends who worried about him. I witnessed Ryker and Asa today reaching out to him. But still . . . he seemed alone.
His friends hadn’t lost their ability to play football. Their lives hadn’t changed. It was Nash facing that. I had been lonely most of my life. I was fine with it, but I knew Nash Lee had never been alone. He’d been king of the world. Full of life and always at the party. This was more than an adjustment for him. It was a nightmare he wouldn’t wake up from.
When he got in his Escalade, I looked away before he saw me. I walked on. Trying not to care what I saw. Not to worry about Nash or feel bad for him. That seemed impossible, though.
By the time I reached my driveway, it was after six, and I’d walked over seven miles today. Every time I thought I was done, I walked some more. Needing to think about things. Decide if this revenge thing was worth it. Or pointless.
The fancy black truck that I knew belonged to Asa was parked outside my house, and Asa was leaning up against it with his arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face when I spotted him. Football practice was over. And he was here. Looking for me.
This was what I wanted. Or this was what I had wanted. Once. But I’d thought about it all while walking for almost three hours, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted now. Because a good book and being alone sounded rather nice to me.
“How far did you walk?” was his first question when I was close enough to hear him.
“Seven miles. Maybe a little more.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Damn. I don’t think I’ve walked that much at one time in my life.”
I shrugged. There had been many days in the heat of the summer I’d walked ten miles. I enjoyed the solitude of walking. Me and my thoughts alone again. And I wondered if Nash would ever find joy in that, or if he’d always need people around him.
“You do that every day?”
I shook my head. “No. Some days I walk ten; some days I walk five. It’s always different.”
He nodded as if that made sense, but I doubt he understood it at all.
“I came by to see if you’d like to go over to Ryker’s with me. Guys decided to get Nash and force him to hang out tonight. Small party that will probably be moved to the field if too many people show up. But it’s a party, so who cares,” he finished with a smile that clearly stated he thought he was funny.
I didn’t think Nash wanted a party. Had they not all noticed he was suffering today? Did he look like a guy who wanted to be around a bunch of people who didn’t understand what he was going through? No. I would be surprised if Ryker could even get Nash to his house. Unless they picked him up and carried him. Force would be the only way.
“Nash didn’t seem to be in the mood for a party today,” I pointed out.
Asa shrugged. “Yeah. I know. But Ryker is like Nash’s brother. They’re closer than cousins. Always have been. If anyone can get Nash to socialize, it’s Ryker.”
I wasn’t convinced of this. But the fat girl inside me who knew what it was like to be alone, who knew what it was like to feel as if you don’t fit in. As if no one understands you. That girl nodded her head. “Okay. Can I get a quick shower?”
Asa beamed as if I was doing this to be with him. I guess in his eyes this was a date. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’d never been on a date. I didn’t want to start tonight. I was going because, whether he realized it or not, Nash Lee was going to need me. I was the only person who understood him, who saw past what they believed he was feeling and got to the core. Maybe he didn’t deserve my help because of his laughing at the idea of me in a swimsuit. But then maybe he did. He was nice to me for years when no one else was. I couldn’t forget that.
“Sure. I can wait,” he replied.
“My mom is going to want to feed you. If you like baked goods, then you’re in luck. She’s been on Pinterest this past month trying out every bread, pie, cake, and cookie she can find. We never eat them, so she takes them to work. But she’ll love having someone she can feed.”
Asa seemed excited about that. “I’m starved.”
“Then you’ll love each
other,” I told him.
I led him to the front door, then opened it, and sure enough the smell of something fattening and sweet met my nose. “She’s already at it. I think this is how she handles work stress.”
Asa chuckled. “Seems like a good way to handle stress. Wish this was what my momma did. Instead she watches a lot of sappy shit on television and drinks too much wine.”
“Talli! You’re home! Come tell me all about your day. I’ve been waiting for hours. What did you do, walk a marathon? You should have known I would be here anxious to hear all about it. I’ve made enough cinnamon sugar muffins to feed the entire building tomorrow. Not just my office.” My mother stopped talking when she stepped around the corner with her pink apron on, and the smile on her face froze, then grew instantly as she spotted Asa behind me.
“Momma this is Asa Griffith. I’m going to get a shower and go with him to a party at Ryker Lee’s house. In the meantime can you feed him? He’s starving.”
Mom’s eyes went wide. She had expected my day to be much different from the past. But I was sure she hadn’t been prepared for this. “Of course, I’ve got several things to choose from. Or you can taste it all,” she told him.
I glanced back at him and smiled. “I’ll be quick.”
He shrugged. “No hurry. That kitchen smells like heaven. Whoa . . . are those clouds painted on your ceiling?”
“Yes they are. Come see the kitchen ceiling. It’s even better. My favorite,” mom replied with pride.
They would get along just fine. Mom could feed him and show him her painted ceilings.
