Hanging by a Moment (Keeping Score #2)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “If it wasn’t now, it would be in a few weeks. We’re just moving things up a little.” I stroked his back. “Tell me you understand, Leo. Tell me you’re okay with this.”

  He lifted tormented eyes to mine. “I’m never going to be okay with you leaving me or with us being apart, in any way.” He drew in a deep breath. “But . . . yeah, I understand. You’ve been stuck in the house, afraid to go out, and I know all of this puts you in a terrible position, too.”

  A small trickle of relief mingled with a stream of regret. “It does. I don’t want to mess up anything for you. I never want to stand in the way of your dreams or your future.”

  “Mia Quinn.” He held my face between his two hands. “You are my dream and my future. Don’t ever forget that.”

  I’m one of them. The thought drifted unbidden and unwelcome into my mind, but I didn’t say it aloud. Leo would only deny it, and that was not an argument I cared to have today.

  “Tell me this is temporary.” He leaned back, searching my face. “Just until you feel a little steadier and the fucking media stuff goes away. Right?”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, out of fear I might say what he wasn’t ready to accept.

  But I knew the truth.

  Football Sunday

  If you haven’t heard the name Leo Taylor, you must have been living under a rock. The rising junior at Carolina University has, in the last year, become the most watched and the most popular college football player in the nation.

  Taylor’s story is that of a typical American boy. The youngest of three boys, his parents are middle-class residents of a small town in Southern New Jersey. Their two oldest boys, Simon and Daniel, played basketball, but the baby of the family, Leo, found his real love in the game of football.

  Taylor led his Eatonboro High team to the state championship two years in a row. His high school coaches call him a born leader, someone who inspired the other players to give their best every game. His best friend Matt Lampert was the team’s quarterback, and they were both recruited by Carolina.

  But there the similarities end. While Taylor’s gone from victory to victory in his college career, Lampert’s languished on the sideline. With Carolina QB Thomas Wilkens playing at the top of his game, sources say Lampert has refused to consider a different position, and his extracurricular activities have made the coaching staff reluctant to deal with him.

  Back in high school, Leo Taylor was dubbed the Lion, for both his name and for his habit of roaring after a TD catch. Recently, that name has followed him to Carolina, where a growing group of fans has dubbed itself the Lionesses. The Lionesses attend every game, and their presence on social media has become massive. Each week, the group holds a contest to see who can capture a new picture of Taylor.

  Teammates say Taylor doesn’t enjoy his new fame, but between his face and body that drives women wild and his continued prowess on the field, it doesn’t seem that this Lion will be extinct any time soon.

  And ladies . . . sources tell us Leo Taylor is single. Roar, indeed.

  Junior Year

  Fall

  One thing most kids who are sick a lot have in common is that we don’t take for granted long stretches of health. For the first seventeen years of my life, a regular hospital stint was part of life, just as much as my birthday was—only less predictable about when it would fall. I’d gone almost four remarkable years without a serious illness, from the autumn of my junior year in high school to late summer before my junior year in college, but I never got used to it. Every time I had a tickle in my throat or an odd pain in my legs, I waited for the inevitable.

  When it finally came, the timing wasn’t as bad as it could have been. In early August before our third year of college began, I woke up at home and realized I was running a fever. Before the end of the day, I was in the hospital, and by the next day, I was in the ICU.

  Quinn had come home early from her summer with Leo. She’d told me a little about what everything had been like down there, and how it had happened that she and Leo were, as she termed it, taking a break. I’d waited for her to shut down again, as she had that first time, back in high school, but she hadn’t.

  “It was my decision, Nate,” she assured me. “It was something I had to do. Not forever, but for now. And I’m really okay.”

  So she was home when I got sick, and as always, she came to sit next to me at the hospital, holding my hand and doing everything she could to keep me going, whether it was with cajoling, threats or teasing. She made me laugh, and she kept my mother company during the long hours of waiting.

  I was just beginning to feel more human on my first day out of intensive care. My nurse had promised to help me take a shower, and we were joking about making that happen when Dr. Randall, my long-time coordinating physician, strolled into my room.

  “I figured I’d be seeing you sooner or later.” I nodded to him. “This has got to be some kind of record for me, right? Almost four years without a hospital stay. If anyone’s counting.”

  “We are, and it is.” Dr. Randall sat down on the edge of my bed. “The fact that you’ve been so well overall and off antibiotics for so long is probably one of the reasons you responded so quickly to treatment this time.”

  I grinned. “So we’ll aim for a longer break next time, huh? This was almost four years. I think I could make six my goal.”

  I expected Dr. Randall to laugh and agree, but instead he frowned. “I wish I could encourage you to commit to that goal, Nate, but you know our deal.”

  “Yeah.” Years before, when I was younger, I’d promised that I’d always be completely honest with the good doctor about my symptoms and feelings. In return, he’d promised full disclosure when it came to the progression of my disease and my overall prognosis. “So . . . the news isn’t good?”

  He pursed his lips. “It’s not bad, but some of your test results have been more consistent with an indication of disease progression than with stability.”

  “Which means in English . . . it looks like it’s beginning to gain on me.”

  “It looks like we need to keep our eyes on things.” Dr. Randall corrected me gently. “I’m not telling you to write your will, Nate. I’m just saying we need to test more frequently, and you’re going to have to watch your activity and your diet, as well as your exposure to illness. You might have to slow down a little. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I understand.”

  “Good.” He tapped the side my bed. “We’ll be in touch.”

  I returned to school with renewed purpose that year. Tuck and I moved into an apartment on the first floor of the Birch upperclassman apartment building, both of us happy to be out of the same room we’d shared for the first two years of college. None of our parents were particularly thrilled that we’d be more on our own, but Tuck and I had pushed the issue until they all agreed.

  My favorite part of living in the apartments was being so close to Quinn. She shared a three-bedroom unit with Gia and Zelda on the third floor, a mere elevator-ride away. As a result, we all spent more time together that year, either in the girls’ room or in ours.

  We were all hanging out on the third floor one Saturday in October, watching the Carolina game on the TV in the girls’ living room. Quinn leaned forward, her eyes trained on the screen. The volume was cranked up so we could hear every word the announcer said.

  “Taylor’s having quite the year, isn’t he?” One of the men in a loud checked sports coat intoned those words over the sounds of the crowd.

  “It’s an interesting story. Coach Demby brought in these two players from the same school in South Jersey, and the differences in them are fascinating. Taylor’s been starting for about a year now, and he’s kind of become the most eligible bachelor in college football today, thanks to some well-placed media coverage.” There was a dry note in the other commentator’s voice. Apparently not everyone appreciated the articles about Leo that had been popping up every
where.

  “Unfortunately, it hasn’t been such an easy road for his buddy, Matt Lampert. Lampert came into this team as a quarterback, when Carolina already had a young QB. He’s come in late in a few games, but he hasn’t started yet. It’s an awkward situation, because Wilkinson is healthy and on fire, while this other talented young man sits around twiddling his thumbs.”

  “True. And he’s not just twiddling his thumbs, either, or at least that’s what we hear. Lampert’s got quite the reputation for his partying, and he’s been getting into some trouble off the field. Shame when you see these talented young players squander their abilities in destructive behavior. But it seems to be happening more and more often these days.”

  “Oh, for the love of God. Would he just shut up?” Gia threw a pillow at the television. “You know, if they’d just leave Matt alone, maybe he’d have a chance to turn things around. What do they expect from him? He doesn’t feel like he’s part of the team. He feels like he’s an also-ran, while Leo can’t do anything wrong. He’s the golden boy.”

  Quinn sighed. “It’s not Leo’s fault, Gia. He didn’t ask for the attention. It’s just how everything shook out with the positions they play.” She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “Matt knew when he decided to go to Carolina that Wilkens was going to be there as quarterback for the next three years. He was banking on an injury or Wilkens going into the NFL early, and now that neither is happening, he’s sulking like a little kid.”

  Gia stood up. “Quinn, I don’t get why you’re defending Leo. He left you behind fast enough when the college told him he needed to be a swinging single.”

  “That’s not how it was.” Quinn’s cheeks flushed. “I’m the one who told Leo we needed to take a break. I’m the one who couldn’t deal with all the press. It’s not his fault.”

  “Still. Homecoming’s next week. Did Leo ask you to come down? You went last year and freshman year.”

  “No.” Her reply was short and clipped. “He didn’t, and even if he did, I wouldn’t be going. You don’t think the media would be all over that?” She took a deep breath and slumped back on the couch. “Besides. We’re not together like that anymore. We’re just friends. For now. Again. Still. Whatever.”

  “Uh huh.” Zelda spoke up from the corner where she’d been reading. “That must be why you’ve been dating so much, Quinn. You know, out every night, partying, sleeping with every guy you meet . . . all of that is because you and Leo aren’t together anymore. Just friends.”

  “She doesn’t date or party.” I couldn’t be quiet any longer. “And she sure as hell isn’t sleeping around.”

  “Like me, you mean, Nate?” Zelda tossed her book onto the coffee table. “Don’t worry, hon. I was just teasing Quinn. We all know she’s not a super slut like I am.”

  “Chill, Zelda. Nate didn’t mean anything. And Nate, Zelda was just being sarcastic. Christ, what’s wrong with everyone today?” Tuck scowled at all of us. “I’m the surly one, remember? I’m the only guy entitled to be pissy and moody here, watching a football game. From my fucking wheelchair. Taylor’s a gifted player, sure, but he doesn’t have the moves I did. And Matt Lampert’s wasting the chance I’d kill to have. So if I’m not sitting here moaning and bitching, the rest of you sure as hell shouldn’t be. Got it?”

  We all froze, afraid to look at each other. And then Gia snickered, Quinn started to giggle, and finally we were all roaring. Zelda stood up and stretched her back, still laughing.

  “Come on, Eli. I’m hungry for chocolate ice cream, and I don’t want to go alone. Let me take you and your fucking wheelchair away from the annoying football game.”

  Tuck looked at her, his face inscrutable, and then he nodded. “Yeah, good idea. Catch you guys later. Try not to brawl while we’re gone.”

  Once the door had closed behind them. Gia and Quinn hooted. “Did you hear that? She called him Eli. And how he looked at her! Who do they think they’re fooling?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Quinn shook her head. “Zelda and Tuck. Gia and I are almost a hundred percent sure they’re secretly seeing each other.”

  “Why would it be a secret?” I didn’t understand subterfuge and intrigue.

  “God only knows.” Quinn lifted one shoulder. “Zelda is so paranoid about dating and about anyone thinking she actually has feelings. I think she’s just scared shitless.”

  “Huh.” I hadn’t thought about it much, but now that I did, Tuck had been acting strangely. Maybe he was seeing someone. And it was definitely possible that it was Zelda, though I’d never thought they even liked each other.

  Gia stood up from the sofa and stretched. “All right, kidlets. The game’s over, and once again my kinda-sorta boyfriend slash fuck buddy didn’t get any field time. This means he’s going to need some serious TLC in the form of hot phone sex from yours truly. If you hear moans coming from my bedroom, pay no attention at all.”

  “Eww and TMI.” Quinn wrinkled her nose. “Tell Matt I said hello.”

  Once she’d disappeared behind her bedroom door, Quinn glanced at me. “And then there were two. What’s on your agenda for tonight, Nate?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I guess dinner and catching up on some reading.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, me too. We’re a couple of wild ones, aren’t we?”

  I smiled at her. “I don’t know. I like our lives. I’ve never been much a party animal, anyway.”

  Quinn laughed. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “But speaking of parties . . .” I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my palms on the thighs of my jeans. “Homecoming for us is in three weeks. I haven’t gone before now, because . . . well, you were with Leo. But would you go with me? As my date?”

  Quinn’s mouth dropped open a little. “Oh, Nate. I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on going to homecoming at all.”

  “But now you can. With me.” I licked my lips. “Quinn, you know how I feel about you. I understand about everything with you and Leo, and I know it’s been hard for you. But maybe if you give dating me a try . . . you might like it. Maybe it’ll be better than you think it will be.”

  “I’m sure it would be wonderful, because you’re wonderful. But I’m not sure I’m ready to move on yet, Nate. Leo and I . . . we haven’t made any decisions. We’re still in this weird holding pattern.”

  “But it’s just me. He won’t mind that.”

  Quinn cocked her head. “You just said you wanted me to try dating you. And trust me, Nate, Leo’s fully aware of how you feel about me. He’s going to mind.”

  “Come on, Quinn. Please.” I didn’t want to play this card, but I could hear Dr. Randall’s voice in the back of my mind, along with a ticking clock. “I want to experience homecoming. I want to have a real college experience. And I won’t be comfortable doing it with anyone but you.”

  For a few beats, she didn’t answer. Finally, she dropped her head back onto the sofa. “Okay. Okay! Fine. I’ll go, but I’m not going to promise to enjoy myself.”

  “Just put on a dress and let me take you. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  I’d never been to a dance before. In high school, I hadn’t been interested in anyone but Quinn, and she’d either been hung up on Leo, dating Leo or trying to get over Leo. I was excited about homecoming for more than one reason.

  As it turned out, the dance part wasn’t very exciting. It was held at a hotel just outside of town, in a non-descript room that reminded me more of setting for a business meeting than for a dance. The music was loud, the food was bland and there were far too many drunk people.

  But I didn’t care, because Quinn was with me, and she was beautiful.

  She wore a short black dress with high heels that made her legs look endless, and her hair fell over her shoulders in a cascade. She smiled at me like I was the only guy in the room, and she danced with me to a slow song, her arms twined around my neck.

  “Quinn,” I murmured in her ear. “Thank you being my
date tonight. We’ve never danced before.”

  She pulled back a little to see my face. “We haven’t. You’re pretty smooth on your feet, Nate Wellman.”

  I laughed. “Only when that means I can shift my weight and shuffle. I’m a champ at that. I guess I missed my calling all these years.”

  “Maybe.” With a sigh, Quinn laid her head against me. “And you smell good, too.”

  “Thanks.” I mentally thanked my mom for giving me a bottle of cologne and insisting I’d need it at some point.

  We danced in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before I got up the nerve to ask her what I’d been wanting to ask all night. “Quinn, could I kiss you? Just once, please?”

  She lifted her chin and stared up into my eyes. I couldn’t read her expression, but after a moment, she framed my face with her hands, stood on her toes and touched her lips to mine.

  I’d been dreaming about kissing Quinn for more years than I could remember. The feeling of her mouth on me was better than anything I could’ve imagined, and I couldn’t stop myself from threading my fingers through her hair, angling her head to give me better access and coaxing open her lips.

  She didn’t respond at first, but when her lips parted, I deepened the kiss, feeling my heart pound against hers as my body responded. We stood there on the dance floor, perfectly still, as my tongue made tentative strokes against Quinn’s.

  When she drew back a little, I leaned my forehead against hers. “Quinn, I know things between us aren’t . . . the same. I know you’re still figuring things out. But I love you. I always have, and I always will. You’re the only girl I have ever wanted. I want you to know that.”

  Her eyes clouded, and she sighed, laying her head on my chest again. “I do know it, Nate.”

  “Could we try? I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t know what it’s like. And I’m not asking you to sleep with me.” She stiffened, and I hurried to go on. “I just want to be able to kiss you now and then. To hold your hand. Take you out to dinner or watch a movie.”