by RH Tucker
I remember texting with Baller, and it was one of the nights we covered likes and dislikes. He said Empire of the Sun was his favorite band and we talked about which songs from them we liked. That was one of his.
“How come?”
“The lyrics.” He looks away, and even though I can’t see his eyes, it’s like he’s thinking of something specific. “They talk about running and chasing flames on a dare.” He glances at me, giving me a half smile. “It feels like all I’ve been doing is chasing flames.”
The way he says it sounds remorseful. Like he's made a mistake about things. Then I'm reminded of what Lana and Micah said about the rumors. Maybe he did make mistakes. Deciding to change the topic, I hand him back the earbud.
“What’s yours?” he asks.
“DNA," I answer without pause and start reciting the lyrics.
As soon as I'm done saying them, I realize he's still holding my hand, and I nervously look away, taking my hand back. Trying to regain my focus, and the whole reason I sought him out, I look back at him. "You okay?"
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
He peaks an eyebrow over the sunglasses. “Why, did you hear something?” I can’t stop my cheeks from flushing. He reaches up and takes off his sunglasses. “I’m sure there’s no hiding when it’s plastered on my face.”
"Holy crap." I see the black eye, and my hand instinctively reaches up, but I stop myself from touching his face. "So, it's true?"
"That all depends," he says, pulling out his other earbud, wrapping the cord around his phone. "If you've heard the story that I was hooking up with McCormick's girlfriend behind his back and my teammates jumped me after practice, then no. It's not true. But, if you heard we got into a fight after practice, then yeah. That one's true."
“That’s the one. Only it was during practice.”
He laughs. “No, it was after.”
“Why?”
He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head. “Stupid rumors. Rumors that got out of hand. That I let get out of hand.” He looks away, dejected.
"So, all the stuff about you and Sarah?" He shakes his head. "Wait, so Jeremy got mad at you because you didn’t hook up with her.”
He finally meets my eyes again. “Not so much that, but that I didn’t tell him the truth. That I let him, and the other guys think it happened.”
“Why’d you do it?” I throw my hand over my mouth. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“It’s okay.” He smirks, staring at me. “Who are you, Emma?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, who are you? What makes you up? What makes Emma, Emma?” he asks with a smile.
I stare down at the ground, unsure. "I've never really been asked that before." I look back at him, and he seems to enjoy that he's asked me something so peculiar. "I don't know. I guess I'm honest. Thoughtful. At least, I try to be. I like to look at the bright side. Jen says I'm a little too much of a Goody Two-Shoes, but it's okay because she evens out our friendship with her sluttiness. Her words, not mine."
Carter lets out a laugh and a full smile, one that draws me in.
“You are. I don’t know about a Goody Two-Shoes, but honest. And thoughtful.”
“Carter, you barely know me.”
"Nah, I know you," he says with a smile. The look he gives me, it's as if he does. "But me? All that I know I am is basketball. I've played all four years. I'm good at it. Freshman and Sophomore year, I wasn't anything else. I didn't have anything else. Then in Junior year, before the season, I hooked up with a girl …" He pauses, looking away and I see his Adam's apple bobble nervously. "Anyways, after that people thought I was cooler. It's so stupid. Even if I barely held hands with a girl after that, if the rumors started, I didn't do anything to stop them. Because with every new rumor, a new echelon of this cool persona I was building for myself grew. When the rumors started spreading about Sarah and me after homecoming, well … I'm going to sound like a douche, but after homecoming, I was on another level."
“You’re right.” I look at him and smile. “That does sound douchey.”
“Thanks.” He laughs. “So, that’s why I didn’t say anything. That’s why I let almost everyone believe the rumor. Rumors.”
I don’t know what to say or how to respond. I can’t imagine people thinking of me a certain way and letting them believe it, just so I could get popular. But the way he explained it, it’s just what it is. He let it happen. So people would think he’s something he wasn’t. Would I ever do that? I’d like to say no, but what if it was something I really wanted? What if letting people believe one thing about me helped me in my art? Or get into a great art school? I don’t know.
“Can I ask you something?” Carter breaks the silence. “That day I met you here when you were waiting for someone. Did you ever meet them?”
Chapter 29
Carter
I don’t know when I started holding my breath, but I finally realize I’m not receiving any oxygen as I wait for Emma to answer. When I walked past her and her friends in the quad, I had no idea how I was even going to approach her. I came to the oak tree, the one place I could find a little solace in the wake of everything being blown up in my face. I wanted to connect with her. I want her to know who I really am and not what all the rumors say I am. Then, to my surprise, she came and found me.
I have no idea why she’s here, talking to me, but she is. And when she asked me about the rumors, I’d been more honest with her than I had been with anyone. Even Matt knew the truth, but I never told him why I let the rumors keep going and never put a stop to them.
I’m nervous when I admit to listening to Empire of the Sun, but I’m done trying to hide everything. I just have to figure out how much she still wants to meet Texting Me. And I’m scared to death that bringing up that topic will give her a reason to get mad at me. Again.
She shakes her head no and looks away.
“Sorry.” I keep my eyes on her. “How come?”
She looks off into the distance. "I don't know."
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he didn’t tell me.”
“He didn’t tell you why he didn’t meet you? What’d he say when you saw him later?”
“Well …” She bites her lip, still not making eye contact with me. “I didn’t see him later.”
“Oh, does he not go here?”
“No, he does. He has calculus with Mr. Hilton.”
“Oh, so you guys got calc together?”
“Well, no.” She looks at me finally. She doesn’t look upset, more like she’s wondering why I’m asking. “I just know he has that class.”
“Oh.” I stare at her cautiously, knowing what I’m going to say next is going to be the biggest risk yet. “So, do I know him? What’s his name?”
She blinks at me. Biting her lip again, I can tell she’s debating with herself whether to tell me or not.
“You don’t want to tell me?”
“No, it’s just …” she lets out an exasperated sigh, dropping her head. “I don’t know his name.”
“What?” I try to sound confused without sounding judgmental.
Picking her head up, she wrinkles her nose at me. “I don’t actually know him.”
“Come again?”
“Well, no, I know him. We’ve talked a lot, but … only through text. We’ve never met.” She drops her head into her hands.
With her eyes covered I let myself smile at her cute awkward and nervousness. I quickly press my lips together, trying to hide the smile, as she looks back up. “Wow, okay. That’s interesting.”
"I don't know why I'm telling you this. And it's not interesting. It's stupid." She frowns.
“Why?”
“Well, at first it was interesting." She makes air quotes as she says it. "And I got to know him, or at least, I thought I did. But then he stood me up. That day I saw you, we were supposed to meet for the first time. I think that’s why I was so mad and was a complet
e bitch to you. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah, you did.” I smile.
“Okay,” she says after a pause. “I did, but now I know you a little better.”
“Eh, you probably know me better than you think you do.” Easy, Carter. She gives me a sideways look, unsure what I mean, and I remind myself to choose my words carefully. “So, he could be anyone?” I look behind her and see a guy walking down the corridor. “He could be that dude, right there?”
“No, he’s not anyone.” She gives me a determined look as I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know who he is, but I do know him. He’s smart. And nice. And he’s considerate.”
A feeling of elation washes over me, knowing that’s what she thinks of me. “Well, yeah. Except he didn’t—”
“Don’t bring it up again.”
“Sorry.”
I wait for her to continue but realize I may have crossed a line. She looks deep in thought, and I can't stand that she might be thinking about the day she thought I stood her up all over again. Feeling alone and betrayed.
I keep my eyes on her, speaking a little lower. “Hey, for what it’s worth, it had to be an amazing catastrophe that he went through. I mean, if you two know each other as well as you say you do, if I knew you like that, I’d do just about anything to make sure I met you.”
She stares at me, and I wonder if I've said too much. Even if she hasn't figured it out, I want her to know, and every fiber in my body is urging me just to tell her. Come hell or high water; I should just tell her it's me and let the chips fall where they may. But as soon as the thought of revealing myself enters my mind, the bell rings.
She looks away while I throw my sunglasses back on. Getting to my feet and extending my hand to her, she takes it and stands up. I don't want to let go. I want to hold her hand all the way back to class. For the rest of the day. For the rest of my life. But I loosen my grip, giving her the opportunity to pull her hand away. She does, but she smiles back up at me, and it warms me to the core.
“Feel free to walk ahead of me.” I point to my left eye that’s covered by my glasses. “If you don’t want any more rumors started up.”
She lets out a soft giggle. “I’m sure nothing can be as bad as the ones that are already out there.”
“You don’t know McCormick.”
She grins, shaking her head. “Come on.”
Chapter 30
Emma
The only word I can think of to describe the next few days is weird. Weird, because ever since Monday, I haven't received any more texts from Baller. Weird, because my Heartbreak painting has taken this bizarre turn, where I'm adding flakes of gold to it. Weird, because after history Carter has walked me to art class, even though his class is on the other side of campus. And weird, because he's also asked me more about Baller. What kind of things he likes. Why I think he's nice if I've never met him. Sometimes he jokes about his looks, and I reassure him that looks don't matter. Then he switches it to my looks.
“So, if you ever do meet him, you’re not nervous, right?”
“I mean, a little. It would be like a blind date. You never know what they’re gonna think, seeing you—” I feel my cheeks heat up. “I mean, meeting you for the first time.”
“I can’t believe it.” He laughs. “You’re nervous about if he’ll like what he sees.”
“Carter, it’s not that unbelievable.”
“Yes, it is, Emma.” He’s still laughing, holding on to his backpack.
I let out a defeated groan. “It’s not like I’m one of the cheerleaders. Someone like Sarah, or Natalie, or any of them.”
“Come on.” He bumps his shoulder against mine.
“Sorry, I’m not trying to say I’m hideous. I know I look good.” I feel my face go red again. “Wow, not that I’m conceited or anything, it’s just, I know I’m not ugly.”
“Knowing you’re not ugly, isn’t being conceited. It’s being confident.”
“That’s what Jen says.”
“She’s right.”
"Anyways, people like what they like, right? I could be a swimsuit model, and he may be into grunge girls who wear beanies and flannels."
He lets out another laugh. It’s infectious and starts to make me smile. “Wow, been watching 90s movies lately?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “I watched Clueless on TV last night.”
“That’s a good one.”
“But you know what I mean? People have types.”
We get to the art building, and he leans against the wall, just waiting for the bell. As if he would remain there the entire day until I told him to leave.
“Well, he’d be an idiot to see you and not be interested.”
There it is again. I know it's flirting. But the way Carter says it, it doesn't sound like it. It sounds like an honest statement. The kind your family tells you because they're so proud of you. Because they love you so much, they couldn't imagine anyone in the world not liking you. It's wholehearted, and as much as it makes me blush and spread warmth throughout my chest, I don't understand it. How can Carter act as if he knows me so well? Like he knows who I am, inside and out, and everyone in the world is crazy if they don't see it.
I push the butterflies away and say bye. He just stands there, grinning at me as he leans against the wall until I walk through the door.
Before class starts, Ms. Hales asks me to meet Micah at the gym again, in preparation for the art show and I don’t know what I’m more nervous about - My artwork on display or showing up and seeing Carter in the gym again. Shirtless. Sweaty. Smirking at me.
Stop it, Emma.
It's not like I'm trying to think about him, but after the last couple days, my brain is frayed. He's not exactly flirting, but sometimes I think he is. He's asking me sincere questions. Not just regular stuff like how my day is, but asking about my art. Why I'm painting my abstract painting with the certain colors. He actually asked if I paint with emotions. Not colors, or brushes, or types of canvas. Emotions. It honestly threw me for a loop, making my stomach go queasy. In a good way.
“Interesting,” Ms. Hales says, taking a step behind me as she looks at Heartbreak. “So, you’ve got all this torment and catacombs of clouds.” She points to the bottom of the painting, where I’ve painted a cracking brick and a gold dahlia, the tips of the pedals are silver. “But then here, you have maybe the most important part.”
“What do you mean?”
“This.” She stares intently at the painting. “Chaos. Pain. It’s swarming all around, but there’s still something growing. Still something beautiful, trying to reach out. It reminds me of love.”
I stare at her, blinking.
“Love can be fickle. It can hurt, and torment, and sometimes we never want to feel it again. But deep inside, we do. Maybe not at first, if we’ve been hurt, but eventually there’s something inside of us growing. Yearning. May I ask what you call it?”
It’s not like she has to ask or be as polite as she is being. But that’s Ms. Hales, and it’s why she’s my favorite teacher. It still doesn’t help the shyness in my voice, as I look at the ground to answer her.
“Heartbreak.”
She stands there as the seconds tick by. Finally, I feel like I have no choice and I have to look up to meet her eyes. She gives me a sincere smile and gently squeezes my arm. “Perfect.”
After class, I meet with Jen outside of the gym, and I make a conscious effort to steady my breathing. I haven't told Jen that Carter has been walking me to class and I don't know how I'm going to try and stay calm when I see him. Now that all the rumors have unfolded and I'm getting to know him better, he seems like such a different person to me. Then again, I guess he was always that person. He just let the rumors change everyone's perception of him.
Jen gives me a flirty look, remembering the last time we were in the gym, and I smile back. It’s no use, I’m feeling … something. We walk inside and see Micah and Lana going over the paperwork, lookin
g around.
“We got the whole gym to ourselves,” he says triumphantly.
"Oh." I look around, and disappointment hits me.
“Yeah, they have an away game.”
“Really? Carter was in history. He didn’t say anything,” I say, then immediately regret it, as Jen shoots me a look.
“Oh, you two must be getting close?”
“No.” I bite my lip, avoiding eye contact. “He’s just walked me to art a few times.”
“A few times?” Her look goes from suspicious to slightly hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Jen, there’s nothing to tell. He just does it for some reason. It’s right after history. You know, the class we have together.”
“Yeah, right. For some reason.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“No, it’s not. But you seem awfully disappointed he’s not here today.”
“I am not.” I cross my arms.
Micah gives me a funny look, while Lana and Jen both look at me like I'm lying. I'm so not ready to have a conversation about liking Carter right now.
“Anyways, they’re playing Beckman.” Micah ignores our banter. “Since it’s just across town, they didn’t have to miss class.” He looks around the gym. “Ms. Hales says we’re gonna have ten to fifteen dividers. Each wall can hold anywhere from three to six paintings, depending on the size of the piece. You’re the only person who’s gone as big as six feet.”
“Yeah, she likes ‘em tall,” Jen snarks, sticking her tongue out at me.
I groan, rolling my eyes. “You are so funny.”
Chapter 31
Carter
I spend half the week trying to get to that moment I felt on Monday. The moment where I had Emma right in front of me, ready to tell her everything. That I’m BigBaller27. But I can’t do it.
Walking her to class is something she doesn't seem to mind, so that's a good sign. I've been bringing Baller up, trying to see how much she still feels for him, er, me. I haven't texted her anymore because I'm focusing on trying to win her over as myself. On our way to her class, it finally hits me. The idea. A way to finally confess everything to her, if I can pull it off and that's a big if.
