Blue

by H. J. Bellus

  “Blue, are you okay?”

  With a cheek pressed to the cool leather, I look up into Sophie’s concerned eyes and feel like an even bigger ass than I already did. I just nod, dragging my cheek up and down the seat. I try to sober myself up, but it seems as the seconds tick by and the further Lane drives, the drunker my limbs become.

  A cellphone rings. It’s not any of my ring tones, and even if it was, I don’t even fucking know where my little shoulder purse is.

  “Hey.” Lane’s voice is a bit muted, but obviously it was his phone. “I’ve got her. She’s pretty fucked up.”

  Silence for a bit, and I strain to hear.

  “No, didn’t say anything about you. I’m pretty sure she’s over you.”

  An acidic taste begins climbing up my throat, and when Lane whips the truck in what feels like a 180-degree turn, that taste escapes me. My stomach acts as if it’s trying to burst from me through my throat. I make horrid gagging sounds as the burning fluid tumbles to the ground. Vomit splashes back up, spattering me in the face. The harder I fight the urge to cease the puking, the more retching and god-awful sounds come out.

  “Shit. Got to go.” I barely hear the sound of Lane’s phone being tossed on the dash over the roar of my severe vomiting.

  “Get back to the dorms now, Lane.”

  Then my world goes black as I pass out in a pool of puke on the leather seat.

  Chapter 14

  I swear the dizziness of being hung over and beyond fucked up still lingers throughout my body five days later. I’m sure the loud gym filled with volleyball players and an eager crowd doesn’t help. Sophie damn near rushed me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped the night I got so drunk, but Lane came to my rescue, even after I puked all over in his truck.

  He nursed me back to health and kept Sophie calm through all of it. The man needs a gold medal for putting up with us. When I was able to walk, the first thing I did was head to his truck to clean up my mess, but it was already sparkling clean.

  I know the last few days without him have been miserable for Sophie, but deep down I was grateful not to have to see him. My skin heats with embarrassment when I think about my actions that night.

  Volleyball matches suck ass. I’m eager to feel the excitement at a home football game while cheering and shining, but for now I’m stuck here and take the three shifts of walking around passing the can down for donations. It feels better on my still pounding head instead of cheering near courtside. We do have one performance between matches and then only an hour left.

  The football game just started back east, and the crowd goes nuts every time the commentator updates us on the score. My hearts jumps in delight when Tuck’s number is announced as making the first touchdown. It’s what the team needed on their opening drive. And as much as I hate Noah and Tuck in this moment, I can’t help but smile for them and imagine them celebrating in the end zone.

  Sophie runs up to me as we are walking out of the gymnasium. It was one hell of a long day. The football game is in the third quarter, and she has it streaming on her phone. Tuck set the pace for the game, but unfortunately the other offense answered back every time.

  “Blue,” Sophie squeals as she watches Lane catch an interception and run it in for a touchdown, putting the boys up by seven. “Please sit and watch this with me.”

  I’d never admit it to her, but I only want to watch it and be there in the moment with Tuck. The last five days have revealed one thing to me as I analyzed and reanalyzed my massive fuck-up at the party. Tuck Jones has captured my heart and destroyed it.

  “I’m going to grab some food and be right back.” I point to the food trucks lining the sidewalk.

  “Get me something.” She doesn’t pry her eyes from the screen as she intently stares at the game unfolding.

  I pull out my own phone and bring up the message from the strange number that texted me the day I was at the beach cooling down from my raging fit. The line is long to the taco truck, so I rub my thumb over his message he sent me.

  Blue, you’ll never understand my reasons, but I’m sorry for pulling away and what I did. You deserve better, and that’s why I’m staying away.

  It took every single ounce of willpower I had to not text back or run to his front steps and beg to be back in his life. Message after message I’ve typed up to send back to him, but then always talk myself out of it. I’ve tried to focus on nothing but cheer the last five days through my foggy-ass frame of mind.

  When I head back with two plates full of street tacos, I see Sophie toss her phone to the ground and know that can’t be good.

  “They just scored back to back. Noah threw an interception, and now we’re down six points with a minute to go.”

  Sophie flops back onto the grass with her phone held up toward the sky, still intent on the game.

  “Was I gone that long?” I ask with a crooked eyebrow.

  “Like a whole freaking quarter.”

  I’ve found myself losing track of time a lot lately when I get thrown into a Tuck tailspin. Focusing on the tacos and my growling stomach, I enjoy them while listening to the game pour from Sophie’s phone. Nothing but timeouts and lots of commercial breaks happen, but then it’s time, and I hear Noah and Tuck’s names being talked about by the commentators, and the wide receiver’s name is thrown in there too. It’s the last play of the game and all in their hands.

  “With seventy yards to go, what will the head coach call?” A short silence goes by, and then the commentator goes wild. “It’s a handoff to number thirty-two. He’s wrapped up…wait, no, he breaks loose and is ten yards out with a defender coming at him. He leaps over him. He’s at the fifty, the forty, the thirty, the ten. Touchdown.”

  The man’s voice is a joyous roar as he narrates each one of Tuck’s moves.

  “Please don’t be a flag. Please don’t be a flag,” Sophie chants as she jumps to her feet with her hand covering her mouth.

  There’s no flag, the extra point is good, and I focus back down on my plate and can’t help the smile that forms on my face. He did it. He just won the game for his team. Digging into my purse, I find my phone and send back a message, but it’s not the one I’ve wanted to send to him.

  Nice job, Tuck.

  Before I know what happens, I’m thrown back onto the grass, with Sophie pouncing on top of me cheering and screaming her lungs out. I look to her beaming face and giggle at her reaction to the win. Whether it be school pride or Lane or the fact her man will be on his way home very shortly, I join in on the celebration with her.

  “You do realize you are dry humping me?”

  Her legs straddle my mid-section and she just laughs even harder and then rolls off of me. “Oh my god, Blue, they did it. They had to have that win.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  I know all of this and try to not care.

  “Why don’t you try to call him, Blue?”

  It’s the first time she’s brought him up since the disastrous day at the diner.

  “He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me.”

  “Yeah, I know, but Lane says it’s more complicated than that, and Tuck just needs a woman to push him, and Noah said he thinks Tuck will really fall for you.”

  Rolling up onto my side, I face Sophie’s profile. “Why in the hell would I want to keep fighting for a person who does nothing but turn me on and then turn me down? I don’t deserve to be hurt time after time. Problems or not, I deserve better.”

  “True.” She pauses for a moment. “But I know you fell for him too.”

  “I did. I have. I am. I’m over it.”

  “It’s okay to fight for love, Blue.”

  “I know.” My head falls down on her shoulder, and I watch the after game interviews with her. The coach’s proud and humble face, Noah’s dazzling white smile and damn sexier than sin blonde damp hair, all front and center answering questions, while Tuck remains in the background even though he was the true hero of the game. Not even one sport
s broadcaster approaches him. With his running back coach by his side, and then the head coach and Noah shielding him from being seen, I realize it’s not just me. Tuck doesn’t want the world to see him, and something about that soothes my broken heart a tick.

  Chapter 15

  It’s the third home game before fall break, and I’m still a bundle of nerves as I roll out of bed. The alarm clock on my nightstand blinks back 4:32 a.m. and I know it’s worthless to even try to nuzzle back down in my blankets. Sleep has done escaped me, and I know it’s because of a curious mixture of nerves and excitement.

  There’s not any greater high than cheering at a hometown football game, especially in the huge, roaring stadium. The energy is something I can’t even begin to explain.

  Mom and Dad were supposed to be at the first home game, but Mom took a header on an icy patch, and Dad basically had to tie her down in bed. And then while she was strapped down with a fractured ankle, he broke the news to her that I wouldn’t be able to attend the scheduled family vacation to the Bahamas for Thanksgiving.

  You’d have thought Dad broke her other ankle when the news hit her, but I’ve reassured her that I have several open invitations to spend the holiday with my coaches and teammates, which is the truth, but it still didn’t help her. I think finally last night she came to grips with a romantic getaway with Dad.

  My feet hit the cold floor and I tiptoe toward the door. I decide on an early hot shower and don’t want to wake Sophie. The poor girl has been put number two on Lane’s list behind football, and we’ve hung out more the last month than the total combined since meeting. And it’s been nice. Actually it’s been perfect and has given Sophie and me a chance to get to know each other. Between her, cheer, and school, they’ve been the ideal distraction from my screaming, aching heart.

  The communal bathroom is perfect this early in the morning. The scent of fresh lemon cleaner fills the air, and the water is soothingly hot in a matter of minutes. I allow the scalding water to wash away my worries and some of my nerves. I hear my phone go off as I turn off the shower. I grab my towel quickly to dry off before I pick it up, because I know exactly who it is. Tuck texts me every single game day. He never responded when I sent him a text after his first game, but has sent me one every game morning since then, and it still comes up as a random number.

  Like I said, my heart still screams out in pain at odd moments, and most of them happen at night when I run. Some say time heals all, but going on nine weeks of mourning Tuck’s denial, I’m not sure it will ever get easier. When I’m finally dry enough, I snatch the phone from the bench.

  Game day. Thinking of you, Blue.

  If their winning streak continues, I’ll send him the same text I’ve always sent him. It’s beyond fucked up, but I need that crumb of hope. As far as I know, not even Sophie knows we text those simple lines on game days.

  A shiver races up my spine, causing my body temperature to drop and chills to spread. I race back to the dorm room, remembering to actually shut and lock the door behind me. Sophie’s light snoring fills the dark room. I quickly braid my hair and throw it over my shoulder as I climb back in bed and reread Tuck’s text over and over. I realize as the weeks have played out without him in my life, that each day I become weaker and weaker.

  My fingers are hungry to type a message back to him, and it doesn’t consist of anything about the game, but my heart can’t handle another rejection from the man of my dreams. The one who has placed the most wicked curse he could’ve on a heart and doesn’t even know it. The saddest part of the whole story is I’d let Tuck take me to bed in an instant.

  Fuck this. I need my head on straight and have fought to keep it that way the last months. Creeping back out of bed, I throw on my sleek black running pants and a hoodie, then lace up my running sneakers. I can’t sleep and need to release some endorphins to clear my mind. I still run every single night, and knowing me, I’ll run again tonight while Sophie has her usual fuck frenzy with Lane.

  It’s dark when I make it outside, and the brisk air feels refreshing as I take off on the trail. I’ve often wondered what time Tuck runs now, or where he runs, because it’s never with me. Stuffing in my ear buds, I turn on a low-key running playlist, knowing I need a laid back workout this morning. When the first bead of sweat rolls down my forehead, I realize I’m going to have to shower again. I really need to look into applying for the poster child for “hot mess.”

  ***

  My fingers itch to text Tuck. We’ve blown out the opponent, and it’s homecoming, so the crowd is especially wild and rambunctious. The student section is spackled with bare-chested students with painted letters on their skin. They’ve made the job of cheering simple and electrifying. My eyes remained glued to the big screen watching replays, since the field is impossible to see from the sidelines.

  And thanks to Tuck, my arms burn and my abs are screaming at me, since we have to do push-ups every time our team scores, and it’s not just seven each time. It’s the total score, and the asshole has racked up thirty-five points alone, and the final score is fifty-six.

  “Blue.” Sophie’s face beams brightly as she runs over and hugs me. “Man, that was amazing.”

  Stephie quit the squad a month ago and hasn’t been seen since. Word on campus is she was knocked up and it wasn’t Ethan’s baby, so instead of facing her mistake, she ran. Seems pretty typical of someone that shallow, and I can’t say I miss her. She did her best to be a royal bitch while she was cheering at the few home games with us, but she’d never know my broken heart trumped all of her cruelty toward me.

  “We have to go out tonight, Blue.” She squeezes the top of my arm tightly. “Lane said if they win, the whole team was going to meet up. We have to go.”

  “We’re in.”

  I see Brandi and Sarah with shit-eating grins plastering their face and know the two of them would love something like that. They are just two gigantic flirts out for a good time.

  “Go ahead girls.” I wave them off. “It’s late, and I have to study.”

  It wasn’t all a lie. It is late, but I don’t have even a shred of homework to do. When I reach my bag, I send out a quick text to Tuck and then head back to the dorms. When I get to the parking lot, I hear someone call my name…or at least I think I heard something.

  “Blue.”

  Turning around, I see the black beanie first and then his dark eyes. It’s something I haven’t seen in months, and I nearly fall down in a melting puddle of goo. I try to speak, but everything catches in my throat.

  He takes three long strides and is in touching distance. All it would take is one stretch of an arm and I’d have him on me. Instead I arch an eyebrow and force myself to employ all defensive tactics.

  “I need you tonight.”

  Those four words are probably the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard. I tilt my head and stare at him, unable to speak.

  “I need you and want you. Please.”

  “What happens after tonight?” My voice is steady and serious.

  “Blue, you know I can’t.”

  “Tuck Jones, then you don’t need me tonight. Go round up one of the other blonde bitches who love to hang all over you.”

  I turn to stomp off, but he wraps his hand around my upper arm, dragging me back toward him. My back slams into his hard chest as he bends down and whispers in my ear.

  “I’m sorry I can’t give more.”

  Everything inside me boils with rage, and I feel another one of those hissy fits coming on, but this time my brain is in the game and I know it’s useless. Jerking my arm from his grasp, I square up and stare him down.

  “Don’t ever touch me again, Tuck.”

  “It’s over?”

  His question actually causes me to giggle, which turns into a loud laughter.

  “It never started, and that was your choice, Tuck, not mine.”

  My voice is laced with hostility and passion, a dangerous combination to have lingering around this man. In th
e next moment he pulls me into his chest, and my body easily falls into the force called Tuck.

  “Just give me one night.”

  My forehead flops down on his chest, and I bang it lightly there and know it would be so easy to give in to him and let him take me. He might even give me more, all of him, and make me feel on top of the world for one single night, but then the days of agony will follow.

  I push away from him. “I deserve better.”

  Pain sparks in his eyes and they grow darker, if that’s even possible.

  “I deserve all of you, Tuck, and that’s what I mean by better.”

  This time when I walk away he doesn’t stop me, and I don’t hesitate as my feet pound on the sidewalk, furthering the distance between us. My phone dings in my pocket, and I can’t curb my curiosity.

  You’re right. You deserve better and it’s not me. Sorry.

  The fucking guy doesn’t get it. I want him…all of him. I type out a quick text back to him.

  I WANT YOU. ALL OF YOU. AND YOU CAN’T GIVE THAT.

  I hold down the button until my phone powers off, then walk quickly back to the dorms. And just like I predicted, I need to release steam, and my body aches with the desire to run. Without hesitation, I throw on my workout gear from this morning. Yes, gross, but I’m beyond the point of caring. Tuck’s scent still lingers on me and is enough to push me over the edge of crazy town. I need a release, and not one involving him.

  Within minutes, I’m on the trail, pounding it hard and with purpose. The music from my ear buds screams into my ears and begins to drown out my other senses that are still reeling from all things Tuck. The more he fades, the more pissed off I get, the harder and faster I run.

  The two-mile marker comes up into view, and I decide on the longer loop that leads around the back side of the campus. It’s a beautiful view in the day, with large palm trees lining the path and gorgeous flowerbeds all up and down it. It’s the furthest away from the campus and the place where I feel the freest. I let the night air fill my lungs and then let it all out, allowing bits of pent-up stress to leave as well.