Make It Count

by Megan Erickson

  He tried not to watch but everything she did captivated him. Even when he was furious at her.

  She ran a comb through her hair and turned around. “You need me to run you to a gas station to get gas for your car? I have things to do, as I’m sure you do.”

  Why was she pushing him away? “What kinds of things do you have to do?”

  She straightened her spine and ticked off her tasks on her fingers. “I need to confirm my appointment with the learning disability center. I need to meet with my advisor. I need to talk with my statistics professor and figure out how I’m going to pass the class so I can stay in school and graduate.”

  Her voice rose a little at the end, like her stress level had reached its limit.

  He stood and took a step toward her. He needed to fix this. “I can help you with that. In fact, helping you pass statistics is my job, so—”

  Kat shook her head, wet strands of hair flinging droplets around them. “Look, you did your job, okay? You made sure I was staying in school. You helped me figure out why I was doing poorly. I’ll take it from here. You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

  He did his job? His job? His whole body flushed cold as realization dawned. Here he’d been some lovesick puppy over her—he’d admitted to Max he’d fallen in love with her—and she saw him as her tutor and some guy to have fun with at a party.

  He’d just been a stepping-stone in her life. A guy who helped her plump up her self-esteem. But he’d served his purpose, he guessed. This was Act Three, and he was no longer needed.

  Exit stage left.

  He wondered who would get to hold her hand and bow with her in the finale.

  What had he been thinking? Kat wasn’t his type. Cheating high-school sweethearts were.

  Fuck this.

  Suddenly the room was too small, the pink walls too bright. The anger boiled up his throat and out his mouth. “You know what? I’m done trying to figure out how your mind works. I don’t even think you know. So fuck it.” He grabbed his duffel bag and rooted around blindly for his things, shoving them inside. “Let’s go. You’re right. I got a lot of shit to do and we’re wasting daylight fucking around here.”

  When he glanced up, Kat’s head was turned and she stared out her bedroom window, eyes wide and teeth gritted. He had no idea what she was thinking. And he was done trying to guess.

  She didn’t want to let him in so he didn’t want in.

  This had been a huge, giant mistake. Him driving here in some sort of grand gesture. God, how embarrassing.

  When she finally turned to him, that fake smile was in place. He wanted to scream.

  They rode in silence to the gas station and then back to his car. As he filled his tank from the container, Kat stood leaning against her car, toeing the ground.

  When he was finished, he started up his car, listening for the familiar old engine rattle.

  He turned to face her. She watched him with a searing gaze, and he tried to read her thoughts on his face before he stopped himself. It wasn’t his business to try to get inside her head anymore. She’d made this call. She’d asked for this.

  When he drove away, he didn’t look in the rearview mirror; he refused to witness how fast Kat got in her car to get away from him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  KAT WOKE UP the next morning with the feeling of eyes on her. She rolled onto her side and turned her eyes to the doorway. Marcelo leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other.

  He was every inch his father’s son, from his black hair and broad shoulders to his golden skin. But like Kat, he had their mother’s eyes, big, blue and wide-set. Marc was dressed casually in a pair of track pants and an old college T-shirt.

  Kat rubbed her eyes. “What are you doing?” She rarely had the intellectual capacity to spar with Marc. This was a pre-coffee ambush. It wasn’t fair.

  Plus she had puffy eyes and an upset stomach from her ice-cream-eating, sad-movie marathon last night.

  “Hey, munchkin.” He uncrossed his arms and walked into the room to sit next to her in bed. He scooted backward until he could lean against her pillows. She propped her head up on her hand.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

  He flicked her on the forehead, a gesture originally designed to antagonize her when they were kids but had morphed over time to a sign of affection. “Mom and Dad called me.”

  She groaned and flopped her hand over her face dramatically. Her parents had called up their best weapon. She could never say no to her big brother.

  “They really do have a lot of regrets, you know,” he said. “And if I would have known, well, things would have been different.”

  “I know,” she muttered from under her arm.

  “Look at me.”

  She moved her arm and opened her eyes to look into her brother’s face. Those eyes so like her own studied her closely. “Who was the greaser and why isn’t he here anymore?”

  “Greaser?”

  Marc waved his hand above his head. “Dad said he had some old-school hairstyle or something. Said he looked like a Shark out of West Side Story.”

  Kat sighed. “I like his hair.”

  Marc wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah? What else you like?”

  Kat smacked his thigh. “Gross, I’m not having this conversation with my brother in my bed. When I’m not wearing pants.”

  Marc recoiled. “Ew!”

  “I have underwear on.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, what’s the deal with the guy?”

  Kat rolled onto her side to face her brother. “His name is Alec,” she said quietly. “And he’s . . .” It wasn’t possible to describe Alec in simple terms. He’d hurt her. Treating her like a project and then throwing that last lovely parting shot. But she’d done the same thing, hadn’t she? Intentionally done and said things she knew would hurt him? But then she remembered how it’d felt to be in his arms, to be the one to make him laugh.

  Then tense lines on Marc’s face softened. “Oh, munchkin.”

  She found her voice “What?”

  Marc’s lips turned in a wry smile. “Your silence said it all. So, if he’s the guy, why isn’t he here?”

  “He’s not the guy,” Kat mumbled, picking a stray hair off her pillowcase. It was dark. And it wasn’t Marc’s. Her heart squeezed painfully.

  “Kat—”

  She sighed and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “He made me feel like when he looked at me, all he saw was what I’m not.”

  Marc slid down to lie beside her, his head propped on a fist. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s not like it’s the first time a guy has done it. And before I never really cared. But when Alec looked at me and talked at me like I was just some project, I couldn’t take it.” Her voice cracked. “Not with him.”

  She rolled her head to the side and Marc’s eyes were filled with sympathy. He reached over and smoothed her hair off of her forehead. “I’m not taking his side at all, but just hear me out. When you look at yourself, really look, is that all you see? What you’re not?”

  Kat opened her mouth and then shut it again. What did she see? Her life had been so consumed with her failure at school, it seemed like forever since she’d thought of anything else. Had her self-esteem really sunk that low? God, she was too tired and uncaffeinated to figure this out.

  Marc sighed and flicked her on the forehead. She scowled and rubbed the spot while he chuckled. “Munchkin, I mean this in the nicest way, but you can be dense.”

  “Thanks a lot, Marc, seeing as I’m trying to deal—”

  “Shut up.” He clapped his hand over her mouth. She tried to bite his fingers but his grip was firm on her jaw. “I’m talking about your heart, you dumbass. I’m going to take my hand away. Now listen and don’t start spewing stupid shit.”

  She growled but nodded.

  He took his hand from her face and kept talking. “Remember tha
t park Mom and Dad used to take us to? The one over by the elementary school?”

  “Pleasant Valley?”

  “Yeah. That’s the one. There was always that little boy there, with the coke-bottle glasses. He was tiny for his age.”

  Kat smiled, remembering her little buddy. “Sam. He could make the best sand castles in the sandbox.”

  Marc huffed a laugh. “Yeah, see, that’s what you remember. He was quiet and had weird clothes and all the other kids picked on him. One time, this bigger kid shoved him down the slide and I’ll never forget it until the day I die, the sight of you, all four feet tall, stomping over to this kid who was a foot taller than you. You shook your finger in his face and called him a bully and told him to apologize to Sam. And he did. You looked like a little teacher.”

  Kat shook her head. “I don’t remember that.”

  “Of course you don’t. Because that wasn’t abnormal for you. Kat, your heart is huge. I don’t know this Alec guy, but Dad said he seemed really into you. Did you ever think there’s more to you than what a guy sees and what your IQ is?”

  Kat’s mind raced back to the time she cried when he told her about his dad. “Oh,” she said, her eyes drifting over Marc’s shoulder. Both times she’d talked to Alec about his dad, when she’d shown him her “heart,” he’d told her how amazing she was. She shook her head. “But still, as soon as he found out about the possible dyslexia, it’s all he saw. If you heard him talk, you’d understand. He wanted to fix me.”

  “I believe you feel that way. I really do. But I don’t believe that’s all he sees. I’m sure he cares about you and he’s a guy. Guys like to fix.”

  She fidgeted because she hated that word. “I don’t want to feel like I need fixed. And I can’t be fixed. I most likely have a learning disability. It’s not something that goes away.” Alec had to understand that. No matter what he did, there was no fixing her.

  Marc shook his head. “You don’t need fixed. But this guy is, what, twenty-one years old? Cut him some slack.”

  “You’re taking his side,” Kat grumbled.

  “I’m not taking his side, just offering an explanation for the actions of a member of my kind.” He flicked her forehead again. “And the best way to get back at him for making you feel this way is to kick life’s ass.”

  Kat laughed. “What does that mean?”

  “Get back to campus and sort your shit out. Take some time to remember all the reasons you’re a kick-ass girl.”

  That had been her plan and Marc’s words ignited the fire in her belly. “You give the best pep talks ever.”

  “Eh, only to my little sister. And I heard you might declare yourself as an education major? That’s perfect for you. I don’t know why none of us ever suggested it.”

  “Thanks, Marc.”

  “If you need another ass-kicking pep talk, you’ll call me?” Marc said.

  Kat nodded. “You bet.”

  “And I’ll get to meet Greaser Boy?”

  “Alec!” she yelled with a laugh. “Alec Stone. And I don’t know. I think we both need this time to step back and decide what we want.”

  He grinned. “All right. And Alec Stone, huh? Solid name.”

  The best, she thought with a grin as she hugged her big brother.

  KAT DRAGGED HER heavy suitcase downstairs later that day, then headed to the kitchen to say good-bye to her parents. Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

  “I’m heading back to school,” she said. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She’s running some errands,” her father said.

  “Okay, well, let her know I left. And, thank you for calling Marc.”

  Her father put down the paper and clasped his hands together on top of the table. “Your mother and I are sorry.”

  “I know that.”

  “We were very shortsighted.”

  “I know that, too.” Kat cocked her head. “Marc told you off, didn’t he?”

  Her father’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t answer. It was okay. She knew the truth.

  “Well, I’ll call and let you know how the appointment goes and all of that . . .” Kat said, heading out of the kitchen.

  “Minha flor?” Her father said softly.

  “Yeah?” she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Tell your young man we said hello.”

  Her young man. She gave her dad a noncommittal nod and lugged her suitcase out the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ALEC STARED AT his computer screen, blank document open, cursor blinking. He should be working on a paper for his mock trial class about the case he and Danica presented, but all he could think about was the girl he left back in Cross Keys.

  How had he twisted all their moments in his head, imagining she was the love of his life? Because if their conversation before he left her home wasn’t a kiss-off, he didn’t know what was.

  But he couldn’t stop thinking about her voice and her laugh. What it felt like to hold her in his arms and breathe in the familiar citrus scent that was all Kat.

  Fuck, this hurt worse than the breakup with Carrie. Everything with Kat had been bigger, more real, from their conversations about his dad to her confessions about herself.

  He saw her. She’d told him herself. When did that change? Or was it ever true?

  It was the Monday of spring break and it was killing him that he didn’t even know if she was back in town yet. He hoped she drove safely. Wore her seat belt. Didn’t text and drive. Kept her hands at ten and two and didn’t take her eyes off of the road.

  He thunked his head onto his desk. He was going crazy.

  The front door opened and closed downstairs. He waited for the footsteps, by now able to determine from the sound whether the arrival was Max or Cam.

  As the heavy footfalls ascended, his heart sank. Max.

  The footsteps stopped outside his room. Just when he thought Max would move on to his own room, there was a light, hesitant knock at the door. Alec closed his eyes, reminding himself to keep his temper in check and cleared his throat. “Come in.”

  There was a rustling, then a slow turning of the doorknob, until the door swung open slowly. Alec swung in his chair to face his best friend—former best friend?—in the doorway.

  They locked eyes and Alec held it, refusing to be the one who looked away first. Max lost the battle of staring chicken, slowly lowering his gaze to the floor. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before he took a couple of steps farther into the room.

  Max bit his lip and glanced around the room. He smiled sadly and picked up one of Alec’s photos he had stuck on a corkboard. It was a picture of them from middle school, with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Alec was smiling but drenched in sweat from completing his first 5K. Max was shirtless, a big A painted on his chest. Alec remembered Max was so proud to cheer him on, and Alec didn’t have the heart to tell him that he should probably read The Scarlet Letter before he walked around with a big red A on his chest.

  Max pointed to the picture and smiled. “Remember that?”

  Immediately, Alec bristled. Because sure he remembered it, but Max couldn’t bring up all the good times and instantly be forgiven.

  “I’m not interested in taking a trip down memory lane with you,” he said.

  Max’s smile immediately dropped off, and his shoulders slumped. He walked to Alec’s bed with heavy steps and sank down on the edge. He widened his feet and stared at the stained hardwood floor. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah? Well you should be.”

  Max bit his lip so hard, Alec was sure he’d tear a hole in it. “Quit biting your lip like that.”

  Max jerked his head up. “What?”

  “You’re biting your lip . . . just quit it, okay? It’s annoying.”

  His eyes darkened. “Well, I’m sorry to annoy you,” he said bitterly.

  “Don’t play a victim, all I said—”

  “Of course, because the mar
tyr card is all used up by Alec Stone—”

  “What the fuck? Where did that come from—”

  “Because it’s always about you!” Max roared, effectively quelling their shouting match.

  Alec sat stunned in his chair, finally seeing his best friend in a light he never had before, and it wasn’t flattering. “What are you talking about?”

  Max’s fingers curled into the mattress, his lips in a sneer, his voice dipping into a low tone that sent a chill down Alec’s spine. “Why can’t you be like Alec? Why don’t you get his grades? Why can’t you find a nice girl like Alec instead of those bimbos you usually date?”

  There was only one person who would say all those things. Jack Payton.

  “I don’t . . . are you jealous of me?” The idea was ludicrous. Max, despite recent behavior, had always been well liked, the most popular in school. Alec was always happy to blend into the background behind him.

  Max snorted and looked away. “You know, I actually think it would be easier if I was jealous of you. Because then I could hate you.” He sighed and faced Alec again. “Every time something good happened for you, I was happy to be along for the ride. Glad that you included me in your life. But my dad . . . well, he would have been happy with only my two brothers as kids. Or, if I have to exist, at least more like you.”

  “I don’t understand, Max, you—”

  He waved his hand. “Stop, okay? We all know you’re a better guy than I am.” He grimaced, the lines in his face etched with self-loathing. “I fucked your girlfriend, Zuk. Pretty sure that makes me a complete asshole.”

  Alec winced at the curse. “You don’t have to drive the point home.”

  Max shook his head. “But that’s the point. That’s what I did. That’s who I am. You have every right to hate me—”

  “I don’t hate you.” Alec cut him off. Because no matter what, Alec couldn’t throw away fifteen years of friendship. “Am I pissed at you? Fuck yeah. Do I forgive you? Fuck no.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “If Carrie could cheat on me, then we weren’t going to stay together anyway. I just . . . I still can’t believe you, of all people, would do something like that to me. I don’t want details, but what happened?”