Hope

by Sydney Lane

  Honestly, though, I think I was different before I changed my looks.

  "Liza!" Taylor freezes, her hands covering her face, when she spots me. Then, like the little ball of energy she is, she runs to me, throwing her arms around my neck and almost crushing me in the process. "I didn't think you were coming!" She turns to Mom, wiping her eyes and exclaims, "I told you she'd come! I just knew it!" She's so darn cute, and wait... is that a tear? She's crying?

  "I didn't say she wouldn't. I just said she might not be able to." Mom smiles as she walks closer, embracing me in a warm hug. I hesitantly put my arms around her before stepping back.

  Payton smiles uncomfortably, an awkward silence flitting between us. When I changed, she changed. Without meaning to, I pushed her away, and our relationship has been forever altered.

  "Hey, I've gotta go!" Taylor reaches for her bag and gives me another quick squeeze before jetting out the door. "Don't be late. Game starts at seven and awards afterwards!"

  "Oh, Liza, you have no idea how happy this makes her. She was so afraid you'd be busy with school and miss it." Mom gushes, her smile letting me know she's happy to see me, too.

  "Mom, I wouldn't do that to her." I sigh, releasing the breath I've been holding. "I knew this was important to her." Yes, I absolutely would do that to her. So help me, I would.

  If I wasn't trying so damn hard to change.

  "I'm glad you came, too." Her eyes fill with sadness while Payton looks on. "Well, girls, let's get ready. If we're a minute late, Taylor will spontaneously combust." Patting me on the arm, she gives Payton the look before leaving the room.

  I don't know what they think about me, about what I did, but I never really cared before now. There's something about pain that causes you to become utterly selfish, not to care about anyone or anything but how to silence the pain inside.

  "You heard her." Rushing forward to help me with my bags, Payton takes over. My big sister. "We don't want Taylor combusting."

  We smile, we laugh, but what we don't do is be ourselves. That's what I hate most about my weakness. What happened to me should have never affected my family and friends, but I let it. I allowed it to happen, and only I can change it.

  I volunteer to drive Payton, promising Mom and Dad we'd get to the fields on time. Together but apart, we set out for one of the most important nights of our little sister's life.

  This is when I should tell you that I used to be big deal in Somerset. I lived and breathed softball, and it showed. Just ask anybody. They know Eliza Nichols, #10, pitcher extraordinaire. I was good, and I earned every award, every trophy, every title. I was the best.

  Great family? Check. Hot, popular boyfriend? Check. Softball scholarship? Check.

  I had it all. I was one game away from the rest of my life.

  One night changed it all. It was the night before my own state tournament, and everything fell apart. That's the night I stopped being the girl who had it all. I can still remember walking onto the field in a daze, the smell of the dirt, the comforting weight of the well-worn glove on my hand. I stood there on the mound, for what felt like forever. I looked into the stands, the faces of so many with so many expectations, all of them watching me. Then, I closed my eyes. I remember it like yesterday, the panic welling up in me, suffocating me... and I didn't move. Couldn't.

  I was done with softball.

  Tonight, the crickets chirp, cheering for the players in their own way, the loud noise distracting me. The air is so fresh and clean, I gulp deep breaths, craving the view from the mound. Everything looks different from that one precious spot. Out there, you're in your own little world. The lights shine brightly, illuminating the night. You stand, exposed, all eyes on you as you wind up and release the ball, joyous when it pounds leather. Strrrr-ike! The rush, adrenaline pumping through your veins, until... one day, none of it means anything.

  I walked off the field during my own championship game, and I've been letting people down ever since. One tattoo at a time.

  Once the sickness in my stomach settles, I get lost in the game, yelling, "Let's go, blue!" and "Oh, come on! She was out!" I didn't realize how much I'd missed it. Yes, on some level, I guess I did. I've just gotten good at burying it.

  Taylor is an outfielder, holding the record for homeruns at Somerset High. She has an arm of steel. Together, we would have been formidable team.

  Cheers erupt around me, and the people spring to their feet. We won! We won!

  Chaos breaks out in the stands and on the field, where the coaches try to regain control so they can announce award winners. I'm oblivious, lost in my own memories, when I realize that my dad is smiling proudly in my direction and people are standing and clapping around me... and then I hear it... my name being loudly announced by Jared, my high school sweetheart.

  "-Tonight, we have our very own Eliza Nichols here with us to celebrate. She racked up 32 total career shutouts, was voted MVP three years in a row, and closed out her career with 803 strikeouts and 78 victories to rank first and second in program history. Tonight, we honor Eliza with the George Ellison Achievement Award." His eyes find me, the sweet smile I remember so well transforming his face, killing me one second at a time. "Come on out, Eliza!"

  The crowd cheers as he holds up the award, beckoning me to join him on the field. I walked off this field once, disappointing my parents and humiliating myself. It was the day I gave up, the night I've been running from for the last two years.

  I stand slowly, the cheers fading until I hear nothing but the pounding of my own heart, and my mind slip out of my body, as if I'm watching the entire nightmare unfold before me.

  At that moment, I think of Declan, of his easygoing attitude and promise of escape. The way he doesn't treat me with kid gloves, like he knows I'm stronger than I am. And I know I can do this. I have to.

  I can't let my parents down again.

  I'm tired of disappointing the people who love me.

  Suddenly, I'm moving, walking on wobbly legs but with my chin held high. When my heels sink into the dirt of the field, I strangely feel at home. A place I was once friends with.

  Jared. I haven't seen him since I graduated. He hasn't changed a bit- same smile, same fresh smell, and same warm hugs. I always loved his hugs.

  I take the plaque from his hands, dazed as I look past the lights and up into the sky, stars shining brightly. Cheers erupt as he hands me the microphone.

  I want to run.

  "Ummm... thanks?" It comes out as a question, but that's only because I'm still reeling from the ambush. Taylor was so stupid happy, so crazy excited. I thought it was about her game, but it was for me. She knew about this.

  I can't get mad at her. Like everyone else, she just doesn't understand.

  I hand the microphone back to Jared, unable to meet his eyes. I take a moment to stand on the mound and allow my eyes to roam the stands. So familiar yet so long ago. It breaks my fucking heart.

  I miss this.

  I walk off the field, unsure where I'm headed, what I'm going to do. My parents meet me near the dugout, my mom crying as she folds me into a tight hug and my dad beaming with pride. All of the emotion is beginning to smother me, and I'm acutely aware of the tension building within me. I draw in a deep breath, hold it, and release it slowly.

  "So glad you made it, Eliza." Jared's voice behind me pulls me into another time and place, a place that might break me.

  I turn to him, plastering a smile on my face. Sweat pools under my arms, and my heart stutters in my chest. "Thanks for presenting my award. It was... nice."

  His blue eyes examine my face before skimming down my body, widening when he spots my tattoos. He smiles as he runs a hand through his hair. "I wanted to surprise you. I mean, I knew you wouldn't come if, you know, if you knew I was going to be here."

  I don't correct him. The truth is, I wouldn't have come for the award no matter who was presenting it. It's just easier to let him think it's about him.

  "It's not like that." I al
most choke on a silent scream. "I just don't like all of the attention."

  "I know. Sorry about that, but this was something special Coach Maxwell asked me to do." My back goes ramrod straight, and I struggle to maintain my composure.

  My mom and dad stand close by, probably assuming we're 'working things out'. They always loved Jared and thought we'd end up together when I get over this 'stage' I'm going through.

  "Thanks, again." Breaking eye contact, I quickly turn to my family. "Thanks, everybody. Can you tell Tay thanks for me? For arranging this? It was awesome."

  Lies. More lies.

  "Liza, are you leaving?" My mom. She's so observant.

  "I... umm... have a study group in the morning. I need to get back tonight." Panic. Please don't let them ask any more questions. My mom steps toward me, and I know it's coming...

  Payton takes my hand, pulling me into a hug, and says something that will be etched into my memory forever. "Liza, you don't have to be so damn strong all of the time." She pulls away, searching my eyes, and whispers, "Go. I'll cover for you."

  I walk quickly, my pace gaining speed the closer I get to my car, until I'm running... and crying and struggling for air.

  There's only one other place I want to be.

  Chapter 25

  Declan

  "Your turn, Dec!" If we get arrested, I'll swear it was all his idea.

  Seth throws a roll of toilet paper to me before running through the trees. Ahead of me, I see several pledges tossing the white rolls into the air, watching them unravel in the trees on their way down. Catching them, they run in circles with paper trailing behind them and toss them into the air again. The yard is already a complete wreck.

  So, I do what any chaplain would do. "Seth!" I hiss-whisper. "This is a terrible idea, man."

  "Throw the fuckin' toilet paper, Dec!" He whoops loudly, filling the night with a strange battle cry, not trying to conceal our presence in the least.

  But I swear, the first time I throw my roll into the air and chase after it, it's liberating. I somehow got dragged along on this pledge mission, trashing the yard of a rival fraternity. They stole our flag, so according to Seth, they must pay.

  Their tall, wooden letters sit undisturbed in their front yard, but not for long. Several guys are already rocking them back and forth, loosening them from their base, while another pledge backs his truck in. It's a good thing the Betas are out of town for Spring Formal because these guys are about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

  I toss my toilet paper, unraveling the rest of my roll, just in time to see the blue lights round the corner. The guys in the truck take off, leaving us stranded. We scramble to take cover in the trees behind the house, and I take a quick head count to make sure we aren't leaving anyone behind before I whistle loudly, alerting them to clear out.

  I hear a car door slam shut behind me, and I take off running, branches scraping my legs and face as I make my way back to our house. We scramble into the house, separating at the door, everybody running in different directions.

  I slam the door behind me, leaning back against it for support as I catch my breath. In no time, the door vibrates with loud pounding.

  I've gotta give 'em credit. They made it in record time.

  I turn, taking several deep breaths before opening the door. "Yes, officer?" I open the door to Barney Fife, a campus security officer who can't even carry a gun.

  "There's been a vandalism down at the Beta house. You know anything about that?" His eyes land on the scratch across my face. "One of the guys fits your description."

  "Me? No, sir. I'm the fraternity chaplain. I strongly discourage the guys from that kind of behavior. It's the kind of thing that gives fraternities a bad rap." I'm going to be struck down on the spot.

  "Yeah? What happened to your face?" Geesh, give 'em a badge, and they go all CSI on you.

  "Oh, that?" I reach up, fingering the scratch. "Must have happened in the volleyball game earlier." I open the door wider, inviting him in. "You wanna talk to the guys?"

  I smile, enough to look genuine but not enough to bring out the dimples. Dimples only work on girls. And mommas.

  "No, thanks. We're still chasing the truck that got away." He turns to walk away, stops, and turns back to me. "Get the letters back by Monday, and we'll chalk this up to a fraternity prank." This time, when he walks away, I laugh.

  So maybe the smile only works on girls, too.

  "Volleyball? That's the best you got?" Brody walks up behind me, clapping me on the shoulder. I can hear the amusement in his voice, and I try to ignore the residual resentment bubbling to the surface.

  "Hey, man, I was just glad he didn't catch Seth. We'd all be sittin' in jail right now." We laugh, a shared joke passing between us.

  "Did I hear my name?" Seth comes storming down the stairs, a huge grin on his face.

  "The fuck did you do?" Brody asks, watching Seth expectantly.

  "Bro, man, you should have been there! The Betas stole our flag the other night. Eric saw that asshole Brady Collins running around the side of the house. We did what we had to do, man. Payback’s a bitch!" Seth is living proof that men never grow up.

  God, I hope we never grow up.

  "What'd you get?"

  "Dude, we took their letters! This. Is. War!!!" Seth roars, pounding his chest before running through the house, gathering the scattered pledges who are undoubtedly scared shitless.

  Eh. It's not fun until the po-po get involved.

  Brody turns to me, disbelief in his eyes, his voice excited. "He didn't really?"

  "Oh, yes, he did. Sons of bitches weighed a ton. Thought we'd never get 'em in the truck." We share a laugh, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Not so long ago, Brody would have been with us, probably leading the pack.

  Movement on the stairs catches my attention, and I find Quincy standing there, watching us, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Brody turns to her, smiling as he beckons her to join us.

  "Sounds like all the fun is down here. I assume Seth has something to do with it?" She smiles, unsure but hopeful.

  So, yeah, a tad uncomfortable but not unbearable. Easier.

  "Hell, yeah! They went on a raid!" Brody wraps his hand around her waist, drawing her to his side, and she smiles up at him. She loves him.

  "You could've gone. You know I don't mind." She turns to me, warning, "Just don't let Seth get you in trouble."

  "Are you kidding? Seth is trouble." We're just a group of friends sharing a laugh, almost normal but not quite. Her smile still lights up the room, and her voice still makes me want to protect her, but something... is different.

  "Babe, next time, you're coming. You'll love it." Brody nuzzles her neck, his nose brushing along her jaw. Smiling down at her, his hands never leave her body. "You think-"

  Wham! Sometimes, it takes a brick between the eyes to see the obvious. Even I can feel the spark of energy that flows between them, the way they talk to each other without having to speak a single word. He loves her.

  Well, he'd better.

  Seth bounds down the stairs again, carrying several shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. He stops short, his eyes darting between us as a broad smile slowly spreads across his face. "That's what I'm talkin' about right there!" His eyes linger on us before he motions toward the kitchen. "What're you pussies waitin' for? Let's drink!"

  I make the first move to follow him, but a knock at the door stops me. I wave Quincy and Brody on, throwing the door open to find the only girl I've been thinking about all night.

  One look into her haunted eyes is all it takes to know something is wrong. Without hesitation, she barrels into my chest, wrapping her arms around me. I tightly embrace her, pulling her to me, letting her take what she needs.

  After several long minutes, she releases me and steps back. There's resolve in her eyes, a renewed determination. She releases a shaky breath and asks, "Did somebody mention drinks?"

  I reach for her hand, weaving my fingers t
hrough hers, and guide her to the kitchen bar. When we walk through the doorway, I'm met with several looks of astonishment.

  This time, I don't miss the knowing smile on Quincy's face, but I do ignore it.

  Chapter 26

  Eliza

  I ran straight to the place I should've been running from, but, God, he feels so good. I inhale him, committing his clean scent to memory.

  I felt so weak for needing his arms around me, but instead, I found strength in his embrace. Not just from him but building inside of me.

  Seeing Jared jarred something else loose inside me. I loved him, once, the way only a teen-aged girl can. Stars in my eyes, on a pedestal, no worries kind of love. I thought we were going to be together forever. He's just one more thing I lost, another casualty of my war.

  Another reminder.

  As soon as we walk into the kitchen, Jenna spots me, waving me over. "Liza! Over here!" Her laughter is contagious, her smile infectious, and I find myself drawn to her. Releasing Declan's hand, I shrug my shoulders at his arched brows.

  A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

  And right now, this girl wants a drink. I cross the room, squeezing through the guys, until I reach Jenna's outstretched hand. She pulls me to her, offering me a drink. "I mixed it myself. You'll love it!" she yells over the noise.

  Drinks with little umbrellas and fruit floating on top aren't my thing, so when Jenna hands me the purple, sweet-looking concoction, I'm skeptical. She smiles as I take my first drink, and it burns all the way down, simmering in my tummy. My eyes water, and Jenna yells, "I know, right?"

  "What d'you call it?" Strong and vicious, it's also oddly addicting. I like it.

  "Sex on Fire." She smirks, her eyes alight with mischief, and I burst out laughing. "Tell me it doesn't do something to you," she dares. I tilt my head, and concentrate. Holy mother, she's right. There's a familiar tingling right there. My eyes widen in surprise, and she boldly winks at me.

  Yeah, I think we're going to be great friends.

  Someone turns the music up, and someone else props the back door open. Jenna takes my elbow, guiding me toward the main room. Big, muscular boys are pushing the furniture against the walls, and the front door stands wide open. A slight breeze cools the room, and I shiver after another long drink. People are already wandering through the opened doors, and beer is being passed around.