I need to think about it, I texted back.
Take your time, he responded. But not too much. The dance is on Saturday. He signed off with a winking emoji.
I dropped my phone beside me on the bed and collapsed onto my back. I thought back to my relationship with Jay, my not so supportive college boyfriend. We’d had great chemistry, and a lot to talk about the first few months, but as time passed, I’d started to see a darker side— an intensity that started to overpower everything else. In retrospect, it was easy to recognize his jealousy, his desire to control parts of my life that didn’t have anything to do with him. It made me sick just to think about it. To conjure up how good he’d been at making me feel terrible about myself.
In contrast, Nate seemed so different. More open and honest. Completely transparent in the way he talked to me and told me what he wanted. I believed him when he told me he would support me. As a swimmer himself, he understood better than anyone the commitment I’d made. I thought forward to what it might mean if he started competing again. Maybe we’d be swimming at the Olympics together. I longed for it so badly, I almost texted him right there on the spot.
I was in.
So very in.
But Saturday was Valentine’s Day. And I could do better than a text message. I grabbed my phone and called Ranee. She answered on the first ring.
“Don’t be mad,” I said, after saying hello. “But there’s been a change of plans. Want to come a day early and help me buy a dress?”
Chapter Eight
NATE
Half way through Saturday night’s dance, I’d all but given up hope. I leaned against the wall, close to the water fountain and watched as couples danced under a sea of paper hearts and glittery streamers. Almost like a reflex, I looked for my swimmers, picking them out of the crowd. Were they behaving themselves? Acting responsibly? I’d been clear about how many laps they’d run at Monday’s practice if I caught any of them drinking. So far, the ones attending the dance hadn’t given me reason to worry. Bridget and Brett were maybe kissing a little too frequently, but I figured that fell outside my responsibilities as coach so I tried my best to ignore them.
I pulled out my phone to check for new notifications. Nothing. Not a call or text. Not even a shout out on Twitter. I’d given Kayla time to mull over my invitation, but she’d surprised me by not responding at all. It didn’t seem like her. To leave me hanging with no answer.
I’d texted her earlier that afternoon with a simple query. Are you in? Her lack of response was probably all the answer I needed. I sighed and shoved my phone back into my pocket. It was time to let her go.
“What a way to spend a Valentine’s Day, right?” Mike Shepherd leaned up against the wall beside me. Shep taught world history and coached the basketball team, and was generally pretty optimistic. Even about school dances.
“What’s got you down, Shep?” I asked.
“Ah, I don’t know. I forgot to do something for Angie for Valentine’s Day. And I forgot to tell her I had to be here tonight, so, yeah. She’s not too happy with me right now.”
I grimaced. “Ouch. You have a recovery plan yet?”
“I’ll figure it out, I guess. Take her out tomorrow, maybe. What about you? You got anybody special to go and see?”
I ran a hand across my chin and shrugged. “I thought maybe I…” I froze. Kayla stood at the door to the gym, her eyes scanning the room. “Sorry, Shep. I gotta go.”
When I was ten or so paces away, she saw me, a huge smile spreading out across her face.
I stopped right in front of her. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
She looked amazing. But then it’s not like that was hard for Kayla, a woman who managed to make a swim cap look good. All dressed up, with the hair and the dress and the heels, it was a lot to take in.
“I’m sorry I ignored your text earlier,” she said. “I just… I had this idea to surprise you. Some big Valentine’s Day gesture.”
“Yeah?”
“But then I remembered that you’re a faculty member chaperoning a dance full of your students and athletes, and it suddenly felt silly to think I could just waltz in here and find you without, I don’t know, making a scene.”
I grinned. “A reasonable worry.”
“I mean, my little sister is right over there.”
I held out my hand. “Want to go for a walk?”
Kayla nodded.
We skirted around the edge of the room still holding hands, past Shep, who gave me an approving thumbs up and cut into the hallway. We weren’t far from my classroom, so that seemed like a reasonable destination.
“Man,” she said. “It’s crazy to be back here. Was it weird for you at first?”
“A little. I’ll tell you the weirdest thing is working with teachers who used to be my teachers. You know Ms. Greenley is still here?”
“Is she really? She’s been teaching forever.”
We stopped at my classroom door, and she ran her hands across the plaque that bore my name. “You like teaching?” she asked.
“Yeah. I really love it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“About?”
“Training. Will you keep teaching?”
I blew out a weary sigh. I’d been tossing around that same question all weekend. There’s no way I could get the hours I needed in the water while still teaching full time. But the thought of leaving my students didn’t feel great either.
“I don’t think I can,” I said. “Not if I’m really going to do this. I was thinking maybe I’ll stick around to the end of swim season. We only have a few more weeks. Then I’ll see if the school will let me take leave through the rest of the school year.”
She reached her hands up, resting them on my shoulders. “You’re going to be amazing. You know that, right?” She kissed me softly.
“Right now, I’m pretty sure I’ll believe anything you tell me.”
“You should believe it. It’s true.”
I kissed her one more time. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kayla.”
She smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”
SIX MONTHS LATER
KAYLA
I sat in the stands, my hands gripped tightly around the arm rests. Nate stood in front of the starting block in lane 4. He was the top seeded swimmer in the final heat of the men’s 200 Free, and, if he swam like I believed he could, he had the potential to take the Olympic record with his win. I wouldn’t swim my final event until the following night. For now all my nerves were for him.
He stretched his arms, paying particular attention to his left shoulder. I closed my eyes. He’d be fine, I told myself. He’d been swimming like never before. He was ready for this.
I didn’t expect him to look my way. He was too focused for that. But I almost wished he would. I wanted him to know how much I believed in him. That I loved him, and no matter how he finished, I’d never been prouder of how hard he’d worked and how far he’d come.
The buzz around his comeback had been huge. It had been a little uncomfortable at first, all the media attention, especially when people realized the two of us were a couple. Once high school teammates; now both on the Olympic team. It was a pretty compelling story. But Nate did his best to channel the attention into awareness, using every opportunity he could to talk about safe driving and the potential consequences of texting behind the wheel. We both preferred that be the focus, more than our love story.
Bridget put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “How are you holding up?”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick. It’s worse than when I’m swimming.”
“He’s going to win, Kayla. Don’t worry. You’re both going home with medals.”
I nodded. “He’s got this. I know he does.”
Nate stretched his arms over his head one last time and pulled his goggles into position. This was it. I said a quick prayer that all would be well; that he would swim his very best and be satisfied
with his performance.
A minute and forty-two seconds later, tears were streaming down my face as I cheered, Nate’s gold medal victory finally secured. After the medal ceremony, instead of completing the press circuit designed for athletes to pose for pictures and answer questions, Nate broke ranks and came into the stands, climbing until we stood face to face, only a guard rail between us.
“Hi,” he whispered.
I laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“I gotta go,” he said. “Just wanted to say I love you.” He kissed me, cheers erupting from the crowd around us, then made his way back down to the pool deck.
“I love you, too,” I shouted after him, laughter bubbling up inside of me. I was proud of our wins, his and mine. But more importantly, I was so happy it was an experience we’d had together.
He’d been right all along. He was definitely a risk worth taking.
Click on the covers to visit Jenny’s Amazon Author Page:
Jenny Proctor was born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, a place where she still resides and considers the loveliest on earth. She and her husband stay busy keeping up with six children and a growing assortment of pets. She loves to hike with her family and spend time outdoors, but she also adores lounging around her home, reading great books or watching great
movies and, when she’s lucky, eating delicious food she didn't have to prepare herself. Jenny's recent novels include Love at First Note (2016) and Wrong for You (May 2017).
Website: www.jennyproctor.com
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Chapter One
“We’ll head over to the cafeteria for breakfast at nine,” Sam said to the four of her roommates who were gathered in their apartment’s common room. She opened her bullet journal to the page where she’d planned the annual Valentine’s Day marathon, to take place all day tomorrow. “Don’t worry about showering and putting yourself together for the day. Just roll out of bed. Half the fun is walking to the cafeteria in pajamas and then hanging out here all day, swooning over the heroes in the movies we pick.”
Beth hugged a throw pillow. “Could we start earlier than nine?”
Oh, how little she knew. Sam had lived through many Valentine’s Day marathons and had honed the event year by year until it was practically an art form. After tomorrow, Beth would never again look at the holiday the same.
Sam adjusted her position on the couch, excited to explain. “See, we need our sleep if we’re going to do the marathon right. Sure, we’ll be sitting around all day, but that’s surprisingly tiring if you’re not well rested. So everyone, set your alarms for five minutes to nine. That’s when we roll out of bed, shove our slippers on, and go eat. We’ll need a decent breakfast, or we’ll start flagging around one or two in the afternoon, and that would be unfortunate.”
“Makes sense,” Beth said with a nod. She began playing with the pillow’s fringe.
Sam consulted her planning page. “Okay, start thinking about what you’ll provide for treats. Here’s a sign-up sheet so you can see what others are bringing. We want variety. And remember, we’re not stopping for lunch.”
Tara took the paper and clipboard from Sam’s outstretched hand. “I already bought chips and salsa,” she said, writing that down.
A scoff from MollyAnne came from the love seat. “As if we’re trying to be healthy.”
“Oh no, no, no,” Tara said, shaking her head. “It’s not that.” She handed the clipboard to Beth, who rested it on the pillow in her lap.
For their freshman and sophomore years, Sam, Tara, and Alyssa had roomed together. Sam had taught them the principles behind her traditional marathon, and the two of them were now almost as good at evangelizing the event as its founder. Sam first held a Valentine’s Day marathon in high school when she didn’t have a boyfriend or even a date, and the tradition had carried into college. This year, Alyssa wasn’t at the planning meeting, and she wouldn’t be attending, either. She now had a fiancé, so she’d be spending the day with him.
“Just listen to Tara,” Sam said. “Trust me; we aren’t trying to be healthy.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, Tara explained. “If you eat nothing but sugar, you’ll end up sick of it, stop eating, and with a headache. You need something salty or savory to break up the sugar. That’s how Sam and I eat those massive sundaes at the creamery— we alternate eating ice cream and caramel with fries.”
“Which we add extra salt to,” Sam said.
“Oh... Wow...” Whitney said, her first contribution to the conversation. “I always wondered why you ordered fries with sundaes.”
MollyAnne’s mouth opened slightly as if she hadn’t realized she was in the presence of Olympic-caliber junk foodies. “Okay, I think I understand. The savory-sweet thing is why we’re ordering pizza for dinner, right?”
“In part, yes,” Sam said. “Also because once the marathon starts, we don’t stop except for bathroom breaks between shows.”
“And without an official lunch, we’ll need dinner,” Tara added. “So we may as well have it brought to us, right?” She held out a hand, knuckles out. She bumped fists with Sam, who then made a big show of sighing.
“I have one piece of sad news, though,” she said, pretending to study the journal page. Instead, she was doodling flowers and hearts to hide the excitement building inside her. “I will probably miss dinner.” She bit the corner of one lip as heat spread up her neck and into her face until her face had probably gone as pink as cotton candy.
A chorus of “What?” and “Why not” came from MollyAnne, Beth, and Whitney.
“Um...” Sam hedged. Nothing was official, but all signs pointed one direction. And she didn’t want to suddenly disappear if, well...
Tara took over the explanation. “There’s a good chance that Sam...” She dragged out the words to increase the suspense. “...may soon be in Alyssa’s shoes.”
“What? Engaged? That’s fantastic!” Whitney squealed.
“Congratulations!” Beth and MollyAnne said at the same time.
The roommates hopped off the couches, love seat, and floor, and group hugged as they congratulated Sam. She encouraged them to sit down again, and hedged. “Thanks— really. But it’s not official. Steve—”
“He’s in town?” Whitney interrupted.
“Maybe,” Tara said.
“I don’t know anything for sure,” Sam said. Forget cotton candy. Sam’s face had to look more like a fire engine. “Steve said he couldn’t fly back for a visit until April, but earlier today, he texted saying that he needed to talk about something important that has to do with Valentine’s Day...” She shrugged. “He could be planning a surprise visit, but I don’t dare get my hopes up that the theater company would give him that much time off.”
Steve was performing with the Royal Shakespeare Company in London for a year, so he and Sam maintained their relationship as best they could over the phone and through email. Christmas break was the only time she’d seen him since he’d left in August. But so far, they’d made it as a long-distance couple. One semester was behind them, and this one was well underway.
Because of the time difference, they usually texted and Snapchatted, but he’d seemed awfully determined about calling and actually talking to her on Valentine’s Day. Maybe he’d found a way to visit, even if just for the weekend. And the important thing to discuss? It didn’t take a mathematician to figure out what that might mean, and she was a math major.
She’d be more than happy to miss part of the marathon and pass the hostess torch to Tara if it meant receiving an engagement ring. Sam settled into her spot on the couch, her notebook in hand. “I don’t know when he’ll be calling, or anything else for sure. Let’s plan the day as if I’ll be here the whole time. And if I end up leaving early, you’ll know why.”
Squeals of excitement rippled through the room again. Sam let her friend
s’ happiness wash over her and her beating heart. Being apart from Steve had been harder than she’d expected, but it would be over soon. And it’ll all be worth it.
“Back to business,” she said with her most authoritative voice. “Let’s talk movies.”
Tara clasped her hands. “Jane Austen is a must. The question is which one?”
“How is that even a question?” Beth said. “Pride and Prejudice screams ‘Valentine’s Day.’ I mean seriously. We can’t not watch it.”
“But we watched it last year,” Tara countered.
“Because it’s a classic,” Beth said. “And I wasn’t here.”
MollyAnne groaned. “Can we watch one of the shorter versions? I don’t want six hours taken up by one movie. How about the Kiera Knightley one?”
“You can’t be serious.” Whitney’s look of utter disbelief and disdain suggested that MollyAnne had spoken blasphemy.
Sam sat there with her notebook, smiling at how emphatic her friends were about their movies. Smart women with strong opinions who were all romantics at heart. That’s what the marathon was all about.
Tara raised both hands as if trying to broker a peace. “Let’s leave Pride and Prejudice as a big maybe, okay? Remember, there are other Jane Austen movies— Emma, Persuasion, Sense and Sensibility. Besides, we’ll have all day and all night. Maybe we can do more than one Austen.” The others relaxed a bit, murmuring some level of acceptance for tabling a final decision. Tara turned to Beth. “Just remember that we could watch two or three movies in the time it would take to watch Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth.”
“Exactly,” Whitney said. “Like She’s the Man or 10 Things I Hate About You. Those are Shakespeare adaptations—”
Valentine's Day Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 19) Page 15
