A lump formed in my throat, knowing she’d picked this song as a representation of who she believed herself to be. Yet her determination to move past the labels she’d been dubbed with, daring to be something different—this song was Colbie’s autobiography. I just hadn’t heard it sung. Somehow, she’d found inspiration in the loss, the hurt—her melancholy. Every word she spoke as she made her way through each stanza and then the chorus was perfectly executed and poignantly placed.
Colbie knew what she was doing.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she wanted me to hear her.
She’d done precisely what I’d hoped for. Colbie dug deep and made herself vulnerable to those around her. Twenty other kids had just witnessed her expose her torment—the pain she carried down the halls daily. She was idolized by her peers, the intellectuals. There were other students with tears in their eyes, likely because they related. Once again, I stood in awe of this girl. She was lightyears ahead of those around her. All I wanted to do was grab her and scream how vibrant she truly was. Make her see herself the way those around her did. I wanted to make her pain invisible by erasing it.
When she was done, the class clapped as they had for everyone who’d gone before her. I couldn’t move or speak. And when she turned to retake her seat, I wiped the emotion from my features. Before I could call on anyone else, Jess jumped up.
“Me next!”
I hadn’t heard a word she said. Thankfully, each presentation was accompanied by a paper outlining the same thing. I hadn’t been able to engage in anything else after Colbie took her seat. Never had a student affected me the way Colbie Chapman had. Did.
And if I didn’t get my shit together, she might destroy me before it was over.
When the bell rang, I gathered the papers as the seniors left the classroom and shut the door behind the last one. Fourth period was my planning period, and the first thing I did was get out my phone to look up the song that shattered Colbie, and then me.
If I were a man prone to tears, that song would have brought them to my eyes—or at least how it related to Colbie. Her perception of herself hit me so profoundly a lump formed in my throat that I had a hard time swallowing around. High school was a cruel place, and Colbie was strangled here. She knew who she was—it just wasn’t someone appreciated in this tiny Georgia town. She was destined for greatness. And when she found it, those who had underestimated her would regret not being a part of the blinding light she’d shine.
* * *
Another day had passed without my addressing the situation with Colbie. I started to wonder if maybe that was best for us both. Although, I wasn’t so convinced that I hadn’t gone looking for her during her lunch period. I’d tried to keep her after class. When she asked if she could meet me at lunch, I’d almost said no, knowing it would put the two of us alone. Then she indicated she had a test in AP Calculus, and I was afraid if she were late to class it would affect her grade, so I let her leave.
Now, here I was searching the halls when I didn’t find her in the lunchroom with Jess. I checked the library next. The last place I’d gone had been a total crapshoot. I’d gotten her schedule from the office and knew she took music, and the closer I got to the band room, the more confident I became that I’d found her.
Her back was to me when I reached the open door. I leaned against the frame and listened—without her knowledge—to what sounded like an incredibly difficult song. She flowed through it without a hitch, and I got lost in the notes just like I had on her sidewalk after her brother’s wedding. Colbie hypnotized me with each key she touched. I wondered how she didn’t recognize she’d reached the perfection she strived for.
Her hands beat on the keys, suddenly frustrated. Then her fingers flew to her hair, clutched at the strands, and pulled.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
“Colbie?” It probably wasn’t the best time to interrupt. I’d just admitted—without saying anything—I’d witnessed whatever mistake she’d made in her performance.
She spun around on the seat, clearly shocked anyone had been watching. “Dr. Paxton.” The irritation quickly changed to something akin to surprise. “I’m sorry. I forgot about our meeting.” It took her less than five seconds to turn back to the piano, close the keyboard, and then stand. She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder toward the instrument. “I was trying to work through the étude.” Colbie fumbled with an explanation I hadn’t asked for. She finally dropped her hands to her sides and exhaled, slumping her shoulders in defeat. “Did you still want to talk to me?”
“Please.”
She grabbed her backpack from the floor next to the piano and slid it onto her shoulder. Following closely behind me, Colbie didn’t utter a word on the way back to my class. I wanted to leave the door open to prevent gossip, but she closed it after walking through.
Hovering mere inches from the door, she’d struck a defensive posture with her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms crossed.
“You want to have a seat?”
Her tongue snuck out from between her lips just before she chewed on the bottom one. Then she proceeded to the desk she sat in during third period, the Chapman poise firmly in place. I could see her mom all over her. They didn’t look alike; it was in her expressions, the way she held her hands and bit her tongue—she’d been schooled in the art of diplomacy. Only Colbie did it with a grace her mother would never have—because Colbie was pure class. She just didn’t know it, and her humility only made her light more radiant.
“You know we have to talk about Saturday night, right?”
Her eyes tilted up to acknowledge me, and her brow lifted slightly. Still, she said nothing. The innocence on her face nearly drove me to the brink of insanity.
“Colbie…” Her name came off as a plea.
“I understand, Dr. Paxton. Is there anything else?” The innocence left her eyes and was replaced by harsh indifference. The girl I’d met the first day of school had resumed occupancy in front of me.
“I’m sorry.” I wanted to tell her if she weren’t my student, if she were out of school, if she could wait a year—if, if, if. There were too many stipulations, and none of them were safe for either of us. I didn’t have any options regardless of what I wanted. Playing with Colbie was playing with fire, and it was one I wouldn’t be able to extinguish once it was lit.
“Don’t be. I’m the one who should apologize. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Her canned response was cold and stole my breath as intended. She was embarrassed, and in her mind, I’d turned her down.
Without admitting everything I couldn’t say, I wouldn’t be able to change her perception. All I could do was tell her that I hoped there were no hard feelings and that we could keep it between the two of us. She nodded her agreement. There was no discussion, no real dialogue. That was it.
I had just shamed her to save my own ass. The way she felt everyone did. Colbie believed she was invisible, that she hadn’t affected me or left a lasting impression. She was so far from the truth, and yet, there was nothing I could do to assuage her guilt or hurt.
She stood and walked to the door. With her hand on the knob, she didn’t turn to face me while she looked at the floor. “I won’t tell Caleb, Dr. Paxton. I hope you don’t, either.”
I didn’t respond. And with my silence, she opened the door and left.
It was Saturday night all over again. My desire to run after her, tell her she was mistaken, show her just how wrong she was nearly overtook my common sense. Instead, I dropped to my chair and banged my head on the desk several times. I’d managed to take a flower that just needed a little water and light and drown it to the point that it wilted under the heat of the sun.
5
Colbie
“What were you doing in Dr. Paxton’s room during lunch?” Jess asked as she caught up with me in the hall.
“He just wanted to talk to me about my essay.” I hated lying to her, but I hadn’t told her about kissing him at the reception and didn
’t plan to.
It wasn’t that I thought she’d overreact. I didn’t know what she’d do. My greatest fear was that Jess would think he’d done something wrong. I couldn’t let Dr. Paxton get in trouble for my drinking, much less taking it upon myself to plant one on him. I was doing my best to pretend it hadn’t happened. The only time that became difficult was during third period…and now.
“I think he likes you.”
“What? He does not.” I realized how loudly I’d responded to her, and the look of shock must have been humorous because she died laughing.
“Oh my God. You have a crush on our teacher, don’t you?”
I hit her in the arm playfully, hoping she’d drop it. “Hardly. Now keep it down.” And then I rolled my eyes to punctuate my disinterest.
“You totally do. It’s so cute. You better be careful going to see him outside of class. You don’t want to get him in trouble.”
“Jess, seriously. He’s just a good-looking guy. He’s also my brother’s best friend and…old.” He was anything but old. Gorgeous, intelligent, built, sweet—old never entered the equation. Older, yes. Off limits, absolutely.
She held her hands up in surrender. “If you say so.” Then she winked, keeping it playful. “What are you doing after school? Hot date?” Jess broke out in giggles again, and I stopped to stare at her, showing her just how little humor I found in her jokes. “Okay, I promise, I’m done.”
“I have piano. The same thing I do every day. Why?”
“After that?”
“Homework, I guess. Is there something you’re getting at?”
“Just wondering what my best friend was doing. Why do I have to have motivation to be curious about your plans?”
“I don’t have any. Do you want to come over?”
Before Jess could answer, Caleb stopped us. “Hey, Jess. Sorry to interrupt you guys. Colbie, is there any way you can pick up your brothers after practice this afternoon? I want to take Caden out for a while.”
“Sorry, I can’t. I have practice with Dr. Chalmers. Why don’t you ask Mama?”
He waved me off. “No big deal. I’ll drop the twins off first. Or get Chasity to.” My brother punched me lightly in the arm with a smile I’m sure won ladies over but only served to make me roll my eyes. “Better not let Mama see you do that.” He laughed as he backed down the hall. When I stuck out my tongue, he replied, “Critter, have you learned nothing about etiquette in the South? You’re never going to land a husband doing that kind of thing.” His teasing wasn’t appreciated. Before I could respond, he turned and walked away.
“Remind me how he ended up with a hag like Chasity.” Jess had never hidden her infatuation with Caleb. And Caleb had never hidden his irritation with her interest.
“She’s not so bad.”
“Are you kidding me? She treats you like a dog.”
“Okay, she’s not so bad to everyone other than me.” I snickered. Jess was right. Chasity had two very different personalities—one of which seemed to be reserved for me. “So do you want to come over when I get home?”
We started moving toward my locker when she blew me off. “Nah, I guess not. Maybe another time.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively, yet somehow, I’d managed to miss her innuendo. “I’m sure I’ll talk to you later.”
After two hours with Dr. Chalmers, I drove home and spent another hour practicing the étude before Caleb dropped off Caden, Collin, and Clayton. Whatever plans he’d had with Caden hadn’t happened, although I didn’t bother asking why. The boys all appeared to be in good moods, so it must not have been important. When Daddy came in the door, Mama called us all to dinner, and I finally rose from the piano bench.
“Cole, that sounded wicked. What are you working on?” Caden no more cared about classical music than I did football; he just loved me enough to pretend.
As we neared the dining room, the smell of fried chicken overwhelmed my empty stomach. I had skipped breakfast to catch up on the homework I hadn’t done last night, and skipped lunch to work on the étude so I could focus on my time with Dr. Chalmers this afternoon.
“Chopin.”
“Will you play it for me sometime?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. My little brother had never, in all the years I’d played, asked to hear anything. He might not know the details, but that request proved he knew how much I hurt inside. When he realized I wasn’t still on his heels, he turned back.
“You coming?” he asked.
I just smiled and caught up to him. He slung his arm over my shoulder and rolled me into his chest to wrap me in a bear hug. I wasn’t an overly affectionate person and couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than my dad had hugged me. But being tucked into the security Caden offered not only reminded me that I had a safety net, but he was getting big. My little brother was now several inches taller than me and had a solid hundred extra pounds of lean muscle. He even smelled like he’d grown up, but I couldn’t identify which scent of Axe it was on his shirt.
He assumed his spot at the table, and I took mine. For the first time in ages, I missed Carson and Casey. The rest of the family saw them at UGA games. Carson was in his first year of grad school, and Casey had just started his junior year. True to the Chapman legacy, they, too, bled for the Bulldogs, and there was no way my parents would ever miss a game Casey played. Just like they hadn’t missed any of Caleb’s or Carson’s. And they’d never miss Caden’s, Clayton’s, or Collin’s…as long as they played for Georgia.
There were now three empty seats at our table, and their absence suddenly stung for some reason. I’d be the next to leave, and as much as I wanted to pretend like I wouldn’t miss my family, the truth was I would. I hadn’t ever wanted to be away from them; I’d wanted to be a part of them. If that couldn’t happen, then I wanted to make a life for myself, one where I felt loved, cherished.
As the food was passed around the table, Collin shoved a chunk of chicken into his mouth and then tried to talk through it. “What was Jess doing at practice today, Critter?”
I took a deep breath to keep from responding to the nickname. “I didn’t know she was there. What was she doing?” For all I knew, she had some project due that she was using football statistics for.
“Watching.” Food fell out of his mouth and onto his plate.
I glanced to my mother, hoping she’d address his foul table manners, but she was wrapped up in a conversation with my dad. “She had to be doing more than watching. Did she have a notebook or anything with her?”
Jess detested football with as much vigor as I did, and she wasn’t one of those girls who ogled the players.
“Nope.” He continued to shove food into his mouth while trying to carry on a conversation.
“Collin, please. Don’t talk until you’ve finished chewing.” The grimace I made in disgust only fueled his fire as he hung his tongue out with mush clinging to it.
My mom finally decided to interject. “Collin, stop. That’s so unbecoming.” And she went right back to addressing my father.
He snapped his trap shut and then grinned at me.
“How long was she there?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I saw her after warm up, and she was still there when we left. She talked to Caden.”
Caden’s head popped up at the mention of his name, obviously uninterested in the conversation at hand. “Huh?”
“Did Jess say why she was at practice?” It shouldn’t bother me. I had my own things going on. It was just odd.
“Not really, but I wasn’t paying much attention to her. I think she just wanted to stop by and watch. Lots of girls do it.”
“Not girls like Jess.” My sentiment was true.
Something about her attendance at the football field unnerved me, especially since she’d asked about coming over and then bailed after Caleb interrupted us. I wasn’t going to press my brothers for information, and cell phones weren’t allowed at our dinner table, so contacting Jess would have to wait.
/> “Maybe the vow of celibacy has been lifted.” The smartass look on Clayton’s face made me want to reach across the table and smack him.
“You should certainly know what celibacy looks like.” Caden didn’t often get shots in on the twins, but I couldn’t stop my smile.
“All of you better be intimately acquainted with celibacy until you’re married.” My mother could be cute. She believed we were all the pictures of virtue because that was what she needed her friends to think. The Chapman kids were the standard all others held their children to—even if it was an illusion.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her Caden had lost his virginity in ninth grade, and based on the rumor mills in the high school halls, the twins weren’t far behind. I prayed to God none of them got some girl pregnant—my mother might have a stroke just before she was committed.
“You can’t be serious, Ma.” Clayton must have a death wish.
“I most certainly am. Forget diseases, do you realize what a teenage pregnancy would do to your future? You could kiss UGA goodbye!” She huffed as if his comment were preposterous and the threat of not attending the family alma mater would keep him from getting his dick wet. Silly woman.
My giggle brought her attention to me. “That goes for you, too, missy. You may not have dreams of football, but no man wants a woman who isn’t pure.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not after a man,” I mumbled.
“Are you after a chick?” Clayton cocked his head in question, waiting for my response.
I threw a roll at him, which only served to further ignite my mother’s spirit.
“Stop it. Both of you. What’s gotten into you guys tonight? This is not appropriate dinner-table discussion.”
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