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Sell Out

Page 16

by Tammy L. Gray


  “Probably not.”

  I shouldn’t have asked. Knowing the rest of the year was going to be spent defending lies and whispers reminded me too much of the fame. I never wanted my dad’s world to collide with this one, and now, it was all a blur of lines. “Why is everyone so obsessed with you and Lindsay? I mean, what is the big deal?”

  Cody opened the door and held it until I stepped through. “It’s not often that people defy the king of the school. Two of us within months of each other started to rock the ground this school is built on.”

  “So, this is about Blake?”

  “No, it’s about control. Madison thrives on rules and hierarchy. This school has been around a hundred years. Traditions don’t die easy.”

  “What do we do?”

  He kissed my fingers. “We trust each other.”

  The parking lot was nearly empty, minus a few nicotine addicts getting a hit in their cars. He pulled me between his truck and a red sedan and tucked me in front of him. Tenderly, his lips touched mine. My fingers curled into his t-shirt, my heart pounded from his touch and the adrenaline of possibly being caught. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and the kiss shifted deeper, desperate. The closer I moved, the closer Cody pressed in until there was no beginning or end.

  A car door slammed in the distance and we reluctantly parted. “You keep kissing me like that and no one will even mention Lindsay’s name,” I said like I was waking from a dream.

  The muscles in his shoulders flexed and the smile that had been there seconds earlier faded. “That was irresponsible of me. I’m sorry, Skylar.”

  Talk about a cold splash of water. “Sorry? Why?” My dad had said a man who cares would never hide me in the shadows. I loved that Cody was so openly affectionate.

  “Because shoving our relationship in Blake’s face will do nothing but bring new rumors. Ones that could be about you, and that’s unacceptable.” He put more distance between us. “It’s one thing to be together. It’s another thing to give them ammunition.”

  I felt a wave of disappointment, but seeing the almost explosion between Blake and Cody in first period, I knew he was right.

  “But I have an idea to pass the lonely days.” His hand slid into mine, and he pulled me toward the sidewalk leading to the outside picnic area. “Tell me something about you no one knows. Something that’s just mine.”

  I smiled because I desperately wanted to be inside his head. “Okay, but tomorrow is your turn.”

  “Sure thing, Rock Star Princess, but my life is sadly vanilla compared to yours.”

  Maybe it was the slight hesitation in his voice, but somehow, I knew that wasn’t true.

  CODY

  I took a deep breath and pushed the weights off their holder. Matt’s fingers hovered just under the bar in case I needed a spot. I didn’t. Adrenaline alone would have lifted it.

  The Storm was alive with fighters, even at six a.m. on a Monday morning. I fed off the energy, the sweat and testosterone pulsing in the air and knocked out ten reps.

  The bar clattered into its holder.

  “Nice,” Matt said, pulling off the weight lock so he could add another twenty pounds. “You ready for the Super 32?”

  “More than ready.” The biggest individual wresting tournament was a week from Sunday, and it had become my obsession outside of Skylar.

  Blake and I were the only ones representing Madison, and the school had taken on an eerie calm like students were waiting to see who would rise up the victor. There was no picture day chocolate milk scandal, and even the commentary on Lindsay had settled into hushed whispers.

  But my guard was up. A hurricane was brewing, and I no longer had access to the Torments List to see what it was.

  “You’re quiet today.” Matt’s words didn’t judge. He understood the need for silence.

  I lay back on the bench and wrapped my hands around the heavier bar. “Lots to think about.” With a push, the weights were high above my chest. The extra twenty pounds made my biceps burn and stretch, but I did all ten reps without help, reveling in the pain. It kept me steady. Focused. Controlled.

  Two weeks had passed since I punched Blake and took back my life. I should have felt free, but with every secret Skylar and I confessed to each other, the one that I refused to share taunted me. Yesterday, Skylar told me how a girl used her birthday party to sell a story to the tabloids. The time before, she told me how once a fan broke into their house, and she woke up to him stroking her hair. Her father moved them permanently to Germany the next week.

  She had no emotional boundaries, gave herself freely to me with only one expectation. That I did the same. I tried. I told her I was overweight in junior high. I told her all about Matt and how he turned me into a fighter. I just left out the parts of me that sat shattered in the back of my brain.

  The bar fell back into place, and I sat up to rest my muscles.

  “Grab a drink and meet me on the incline for dumbbell flys. I want to go heavy chest today, so we can ease off before your competition.” Matt’s hands rested on the weights before he twisted the lock free.

  I noticed the watch on his wrist. It wasn’t gold or fancy, but the thing looked indestructible and very expensive. “New jewelry?” It wasn’t often I teased Matt, but he’d shifted when he saw me looking at it.

  “Present from my father-in-law.”

  “He rob a bank?”

  “Something like that.” His sharp tone had me chuckling. I knew his wife came from money. She oozed class and wealth even while working at an underprivileged children’s center. But Matt was a street guy and kept that world and his carefully separated.

  I stood up and stretched, feeling slightly proud I’d rattled his chain a little.

  “I caught your radio show last week,” he said after dropping the last weight to the ground. “It was pretty good.”

  “Yeah? I’m taking Skylar there tonight. You should listen in. She’s got an incredible ear for music.”

  He pointed to the bench a few feet away and scowled. “Go. And get that goofy grin off your face.” I laughed and he sighed. “I don’t know what’s worse. You with a chip on your shoulder or the constant daydreaming about your new girlfriend.”

  “I prefer the girlfriend.”

  He shoved me forward in his odd way of showing affection. “Yeah. I bet you do.”

  SKYLAR

  Cody wanted to pick me up, but I met him at the radio station instead. In one night, I’d lied to the two men I cared about most. My father thought I was with Zoe, and Cody had no idea that being here with him was outright defiance. My dad’s latest ultimatum was clear—no contact outside of school until he met the guy who had me too infatuated to eat.

  But I wasn’t ready. Daddy’s chemo was the one secret I locked away. He’d lost another twenty pounds, and his face seemed permanently pale, the kind that screamed terminal disease. When Cody met him, he would know my dad wasn’t well. And if he started acting like Aunt Josephine, expecting my father to die, I couldn’t take it. Hope was all I had left.

  Cody pulled open my car door and lifted me right into his arms. His broad shoulders dwarfed mine, and I swore the guy had biceps made of steel. My stomach began its tiny flip routine when he kissed me without a word. My hands landed just above his belt, and the heat of his body flowed up my arms and right into my cheeks.

  “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he said.

  “Me too.” Cody had been strict about the kissing at school. I knew it was respectful and gentlemanly, but mostly it made me crazy.

  “I’m so glad your dad eased up. Did you tell him you’d be my cohost?”

  “No. Not this time.” I’d forgotten how differently Cody acted outside of Madison. Guarded indifference became smiles and banter. Careful grazes became full on hugs and stolen kisses. I wanted more of that person.

  With his left hand laced in mine, Cody pushed open the door with his right one and ushered me through. “It’s just us, Joe and the station manager here,
so I don’t think you have to worry about being recognized. Joe’s a metal head, so your dad’s music is a little too soft for him. My manager wouldn’t know rock from rap, but he’s good at the business side and lets us play whatever we want, as long as the ratings stay up.”

  I watched his eyes light up as he pointed out each room and who did what during the day. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

  He stopped, pulled me close. “Yes. And you are the only person I’ve ever shared it with. I think that’s worth a week of secrets.”

  I kissed his mouth and smiled. “Nice try, Radio Boy, but a deal’s a deal.” His turns had become my lifeline. For every moment my dad kept hidden from me, Cody gave me one of his. He’d chosen me. Trusted me. It filled an emptiness I didn’t even know was there.

  We entered the sound booth, and Joe waved from the shared glass. When he thought I wasn’t looking, I saw him flash Cody a ten with his hands and bounce his eyebrows. Laughter bubbled in my chest. Joe had long salt and pepper hair braided down his back and glasses thick enough to make his eyes appear twice their normal size. He probably couldn’t even see the color of my hair let alone rate my prettiness.

  “Everything is digital,” Cody explained, pulling up the playlist and the songs the station had rights to. “I have fifteen minutes of commercials to disperse throughout the hour and then another ten I usually take for phone calls. The rest is music, and tonight, it’s all you.”

  He slid his chair back and pointed to the library of singles waiting for my selection.

  “The theme is Ladies’ Night, so I won’t question any of your choices.”

  “Really? So if Taylor Swift ends up on my list tonight, you won’t care?”

  His brow crinkled, but he kept his face a mask. “Nope. Your choice.”

  “And what about Demi Lovato? I heard her new single is number three on the pop charts.” I was baiting him, and even though red inched up his neck, he continued to pretend he didn’t care.

  He swallowed twice. “I trust you.”

  His words sank deep into my heart, and I put him out of his misery. “My first choice is Janis Joplin, then we’ll hit some Alanis Morissette and then PJ Harvey.” With each name, his shoulders relaxed.

  “Sounds like the perfect mix of sass and depth. I’m sensing a kinship.” The glint in his eyes reflected his double meaning, but he caught my hand before I could smack him. Strong arms pulled me onto his lap. “Will you go to the Super 32 next weekend?” He must have sensed me tensing because his voice turned to a plea. “I know it’s far away, and you’ll have to beg your dad. But maybe tonight is the start of him letting go a little.”

  And this is why lying is stupid. It always led to more and more deceit. “I don’t think so.”

  Sadness replaced the earlier cheer. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a team that wants you to fail, to know that everyone is against you.”

  I brushed my hand though his hair. “I’d go if I could.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll be cheering for you in spirit. I promise.”

  Though I sensed his growing frustration, Cody never pushed to meet my dad. He accepted my wariness even when it meant our time was limited to school hours and a few stolen moments in the park.

  With a pat to my thigh, Cody lifted me off and back into my chair. “You better hurry and pick. We go on in ten minutes.”

  And with that Cody was back to his radio alter ego, CJ. But part of me recognized I’d missed out. Because for all the secrets he had shared, that was first time he’d let me see any real vulnerability.

  *

  Cody sat with his back against the picnic table while I lay across the bench seat with my head in his lap. His fingers danced through my hair like air through wind chimes.

  “When do you guys leave?” I asked with my eyes closed. It was a beautiful November day, mid sixties, cloudless skies, mild breeze.

  “Friday evening. Coach wants to make sure we get plenty of sleep.”

  The Super 32 was only a few days away, and Cody’s mood had become darker and more withdrawn as it approached. It was like the radio show had been a turning point, only taking us backward instead of forward. His secrets were hardly even noteworthy this week. A fall from his bike at four gave him the scar on his right arm. He always ordered a cheeseburger, but took off the cheese because he only liked a hint of the flavor.

  Nothing significant. Nothing to ease the pain of the newest rumor that had settled over the school. Last week, Cody started eating with Lindsay in the library on the days I ate with Zoe. I couldn’t exactly complain. Zoe wanted to be with Chugger, which meant we sat at Blake’s table. But the move had fueled a new wave of whispers and accusations.

  “You’re pouting,” he said, running his thumb along the line of my lips.

  “I’m sorry. I guess Jill’s comment about you and Lindsay bothered me. Quickly, tell me your secret so I can focus on that next time I hear how you guys hooked up behind the N-P aisle. Or was it the W-Z section?”

  Soft lips lingered on my forehead. “You’re welcome in there anytime.”

  “I know. I just thought things would die down by now.” But I’d been known to live in my own fairytale world. Or at least that’s what Aunt Josephine had said when I yelled at her for replacing dad’s bed with a hospital grade one. She said the new bed would be more efficient and comfortable for him. I said she needed to stop turning our house into a nursing home. We hadn’t spoken since.

  “I threw up before my first match.”

  “What?” My eyes popped open, and I shielded the sun to watch Cody’s face.

  “My secret today. Last year at our first match, I saw Matt in the stands, and I ran to the bathroom and hugged the toilet for like five minutes. Coach had to send someone after me. Strange thing is, I think I’m more nervous about Saturday than I was then.”

  I sat up and spun until I straddled the bench next to him. He’d lowered his defenses, given me another chance to put him first. And this time I would. “Come over to dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet my dad so I can see you kill it in Greensboro.”

  He didn’t even pause before pulling me close to him and dropping his mouth to mine.

  We separated, and his eyes sparkled with a happiness I hadn’t seen since our first night at the park. “Thank you.” He cupped my face. “I don’t think you realize how much I needed you there. How much you matter to me.”

  “You matter to me, too.” The alarm on my phone dinged, telling us our twenty minutes were up. My dad would start asking questions if I showed up later than five.

  I pulled his hand until we both stood and shook off the gnawing unease about what I’d just agreed to do. There was no going back now. Tomorrow night, Cody would learn the only secret powerful enough to destroy me.

  CODY

  My palms were like double-sided tape on my steering wheel as I parked in Skylar’s driveway. I prayed the four layers of deodorant I put on would actually work. I was about to meet my girlfriend’s dad. My girlfriend’s highly protective dad. My girlfriend’s top-50-greatest-artist-of-all-time dad.

  Gripping the wheel, I forced the air in and out of my lungs until my heart rate settled to a manageable flurry. Her front door swung open and soon the reason for all my anxiety walked out on the porch. It baffled me that she could evoke such conflicting physical responses. Tingly, hot fire and relaxing peace, all with one smile.

  I opened my door, stepping out to meet her as she crossed the grass to me. Now close, I could see worry in the set of her brow. Her hands twitched, touching her locket, then her hair, then her locket again. She was nervous.

  “Hey.” I reached out, her skin the only cure for the drum line in my chest.

  She stopped without folding into my arms—our usual greeting.

  “You okay?”

  She fiddled with her hair again, moving it into a ponytail and then releasing it down her back. “Yeah, I just need to talk to you before you go in there.”

&nb
sp; Lacing our fingers, I lifted her hand up for a light kiss, pulling her closer in the process. “What’s up?” She waited, watching me, deciding, I guess, what to say. I didn’t like it. “Skylar, what’s going on?”

  “My dad won’t look like you expect. He’s sick. He’s been sick for a while. That’s my secret. It’s why I’ve waited so long for you to meet him.” Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she tried unsuccessfully to pull her hand from mine.

  Instead, I tugged her closer and lifted her chin to look at me. “How sick?”

  Tears flooded those crystal clear eyes. “Nothing we can’t handle, but sick enough that you’ll see a difference.” The last word no more than a breath.

  My heart ached, a twisting pain that settled to a dull throb. I knew what this meant for her. I wrapped my arms around her rigid body and enclosed her in the warmth of my embrace. An embrace meant to show that she could lean on me, rely on me, let go with me.

  “I wish you had told me sooner. I could have been there for you all this time.” I ran my hand down the back of her head, her crimson curls soft under my fingers.

  “I wanted to. But telling you makes it more…real. And I don’t want to talk about his illness or focus on it. I just want you to come in and act like everything is normal.”

  Skylar’s favorite word and one I’d come to loathe. Giving Skylar “normal” was like taking a crowbar to my head over and over. It meant backing off when I wanted to smother. It meant letting her sit with Blake two days a week so she could hang out with Zoe. And now, when I wanted to hold her and help her through her pain, it meant pretending it wasn’t there.

  “So, should I be worried about coming out of this in one piece? I mean, is your dad going to strangle me with his guitar cords?” I asked, reluctantly following her tugging.

  She stopped, her hand resting on the door that would carry me into her world. “I have no idea. I haven’t brought anyone home in seven years. Not even girlfriends.”

  “I’m honored then.”

 

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