I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. It’s not that I’m a prude. I’m not. It’s just that I haven’t talked to another person about this kind of stuff in a long time and it feels strange.
“So,” she says, catching her breath and dropping her eyes. “How about you? Any secret lovahs to disclose?”
“Nope. No guys for me.”
Jodi narrows her gaze. “Girls then?”
“No girls either.” I laugh and twist my hair around my finger. “I already told you. I decided over a year ago not to date because I wanted to focus on school and keep a clear head.”
The thing about Jodi is that I like her. Being around her makes me feel almost normal. I can pretend that I’m what everyone wants me to be—just a regular college freshman making a new friend. I want to tell her things about my past—about Jillian and why I am the way that I am—but I’m not sure how much honesty is too much honesty. So far she hasn’t asked about the scar on my neck, or why I don’t drive, or why my mother texts me practically every hour to check up on me.
“I had hoped that was a bad joke because that is possibly the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. What college freshman doesn’t date and wants to focus on school?” Jodi bows her head toward me. “Is it herpes?”
It takes me a second to register that she’s asking me whether or not I’ve got herpes. “What?” I shake my head. “No, I don’t have herpes!”
“Well, that’s a relief.” She twists her mouth to one side. “Aimee, you have… you know… dated before, right?”
It’s true that I haven’t gone out with a guy in recent memory, but that doesn’t mean that I’m Amish or was ever on the fast track to becoming a nun.
I clear my throat. “There have been a few eggrolls.” Well, one eggroll really… “Just not recently.”
Jodi claps her hands in front of her body. “Thank God! If you were going to confess to being a college freshman with her virgin status still intact, I was going to lose my shit over here.”
“I am not a virgin.” Not technically. I tuck my hair back behind my ears and lift my chin. “I’m familiar with penises, scrotums and all kinds of penetration.”
“I’ll be sure to lock that important information up for a rainy day. You never know when knowledge like that will come in handy.” A new voice says.
My heart gives a wild kick. I know that voice… I spin around and Cole is there—standing beside the sofa with his head cocked to one side and that increasingly familiar dimpled grin on his face. My mind runs over my conversation with Jodi. I’m familiar with penises, scrotums and all kinds of penetration.
A quick glance in Jodi’s direction proves that she isn’t going to be any help. Her bottom jaw is resting in her lap.
“That was completely out of context,” I murmur faintly. I know that every available inch of me is flaming fire engine red.
It’s obvious that Cole notices my mortification, but instead of giving me space to breathe, he steps closer and his smile only gets wider. “Of course it was,” he replies casually, swinging his backpack to the ground by my feet. When he sits on the sofa next to me, my heart races and my skin prickles. “And I certainly didn’t mean to put a stop to such a fascinating conversation—especially one about penetration and penises—but I saw you sitting over here and I wanted to let you know that we’re having a party at my place Friday night. You should come.” He turns to Jodi. “You should come too.”
“Th-that sounds great,” Jodi stutters, shaking her head and blinking like she’s just waking up. I would roll my eyes, but I think that’s the exact same reaction that I had the first time that Cole spoke to me. “I’m Jodi.”
“Hi Jodi. I’m Cole.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” Jodi smiles suggestively.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Jodi shrugs. “Well, I haven’t heard many complaints…”
“Ugh,” I moan. “Please don’t feed his ego.”
Cole laughs and steeples his fingers. “Now, Jodi, can I trust that you’ll get Aimee to the party on Friday night? Because I know that she’ll come up with an excuse, but this girl is in definite need of some fun in her life. Don’t you agree?”
God. Jodi’s nodding her blue-tipped head and batting her eyelashes vigorously—a clear sign that she’s fallen victim to a brain fog induced by Cole’s quasi-magical green eyes. I understand it. I’m quite familiar with the symptoms myself.
I cough. “Actually, I won’t be able to make it to your party,” I say, trying to ignore the fact that Cole’s leg is touching mine and that every time I catch the scent of him all sorts of crazy, swoony thoughts dance around my head.
“See…” Cole hesitates, shares a knowing look with Jodi. “I told you that she’d have an excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” I defend. “An excuse would be telling you that I have to wash my hair, or that my pet goldfish is ill and I need to stay home to take care of him. I happen to have real plans on Friday night.”
The corners of Cole’s lips fall and his forehead wrinkles as he searches my face. I momentarily wonder if it’s possible that he truly is disappointed that I can’t make it to his party. Then, almost before I can be sure that I saw something real and solid in his expression, the familiar easy smile is back in place.
“Real plans?”
“Yep,” I reply as I finger the lid of my coffee cup. “My parents are coming down to take my sister and me out to dinner on Friday. We’re going out for my dad’s birthday.”
He cocks one eyebrow. “So, your parents are big into the rave scene, yeah?”
The question takes me by surprise. “Wh-what? My parents?”
He nods his head.
“No, they aren’t in the rave scene. Carl and Elise Spencer are your run-of-the-mill country club yuppies. I doubt my mother even knows what a rave is.”
“Hmmm…” He smiles and leans on his elbow. “Are they wannabe vampires? You know that they have those cults now where people think that they’re actually members of the undead and they drink blood and sleep in coffins and do all kinds of weird shit.”
“Okay, wait. Are you crazy or something?” Both of my hands are up and I’m on the verge of confused laughter. “No, my parents are not wannabe vampires. They are completely normal. Painfully normal actually.” This is the truth.
Cole straightens his posture and flashes his dimples. “Then I’m sure that your mom and dad are taking you out to dinner around seven and, even if you have dessert and coffee, you’ll be done in plenty of time to still come over to the house. Did I mention that parties at my place tend to go all night?”
“Umm… Did it occur to you that I might not feel like going to your party?” I glance at Jodi for support, but it’s no use. I’ve lost her completely. She’s kicked back in her chair watching Cole with an enraptured expression on her face. Traitor.
“Of course it occurred to me, but I don’t think that’s what’s keeping you away.” Cole drops his voice and leans in so that only I can hear what he says next. “You have to talk to Daniel sometime, Aimee. And I promise you that it’s worse in your head than it will be in real life.”
Before I can respond or process the incredible way that he smells, he’s pushing himself to his feet and picking up his bag from the ground.
“Ladies,” he says, making a gesture that’s partway between a wave and a dismissal. “I hope to see you there. If not, then I’ll catch you around. I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to the field, so please get back to your scintillating discussion about penises.” His green eyes slide in amusement between Jodi and me.
“Yeah… um, have fun running or whatever,” I mumble.
He bobs his head once and then he leaves us. I can’t help but watch him as he pushes past the tables and through the finger-smudged glass door of the Union. His shoulders. His butt. Yeah… um, wow.
I don’t know how a person that I hardly know can take up so much space in my head, but there it is. No matter how hard I try,
I can’t seem to quit the idea of him.
After nearly a full minute, Jodi breaks the heavy silence. “For the love of all that is sacred, Aimee Spencer!” She says my name low and fast—sounding more like a parent than a friend. “How in the world have you not told me that you’re on a first name basis with Cole Everly?”
Cole
The whistle blows and the reaction is instant. By now it’s instinct. When I was first starting out, I imagined that it was like the straps of gravity had been severed with the swift cut of an ax. One. Two. My tensed muscles release, propelling my body forward into space in a single movement.
No thoughts.
No worries.
I am nothing but rhythm and motion.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Breathe.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Breathe.
I pump my arms and push my hips down, squeezing all of the power out each leg extension. My limbs and lungs work in tandem, shredding reality down to this steady pattern of movement and breaths. It’s comfortable. It’s what I know. I feel it in every pore of my body.
No thoughts.
No worries.
On the track, under the burning summer sun, there is only this moment and the one that follows.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Breathe.
The count pounds in my chest and pulses through me like blood in my veins, driving my muscles harder, faster.
I can sense Nate on one side of me and Brady on the other, getting closer, gaining. I kick my legs out, ignoring the burning sensation starting in my thighs and shooting up my body. Faster.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Breathe.
No worries.
I am ahead again.
One. Two. A final push. Three. Four. And I’m over the line.
I breathe in a sudden rush like I’m coming up for air after being held under water for too long. Everything slows down as my heels dig into the ground and my arms release. I ease to a stop and bend over to brace my hands on my knees. Through the sweat dripping from my forehead, I make out a splash of green. I push my torso up and suck more air into my aching chest. Coach is saying something to me, but my eyes are darting to the digital display board and my hand is running over my face.
I blink. Not bad.
One. Two. Three. Breathe.
No worries.
No thoughts.
Later, with a towel wrapped around my waist and Nate’s music thumping against my skull, I lean my bare back against the cool concrete wall and let the words of my teammates seep into my skin. Quentin is talking about some chick he met last Saturday.
“At first I was into the friend because her rack was unbelievable. But then this one hottie, who looked all prim and proper with a pink cardigan on, whispers in my ear that she wants to go down on me right then and there at the bar and…” He spreads his hands and grins. “I’m only human.”
The other guys hoot with laughter.
“Speaking of unbelievable racks.” Brady turns his gaze on me. “I saw Kate at Ashton’s place last night and she was asking me about you.”
I knock my head on the wall once and stand, reaching for my shirt and sweats. I don’t want to talk about Kate Dutton. “I’m sure she was.”
“So… are you still on that?” He inclines his head in my direction. “Because if not then I’ve got to admit that I’m interested.”
Of course he is. Brady is ruled by one thing only: his dick.
“Do you have a problem with me calling her?”
I turn away from him as I slip the thin white cotton shirt over my head and throw off the damp towel. “She’s all yours. Just watch out for her because she can get a little bit clingy.”
Quentin slaps my shoulder. “Yeah, man, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I think Brady has a few parts that he’d be more than willing to have her to cling to.”
I ignore the laughter and the rest of the conversation. I’m not feeling it today. I just want to finish getting dressed, pack my shit up, and get the hell out of here.
Before I can make my escape, Coach comes in and wants to give us a gruff speech about conditioning, getting enough sleep, and laying off alcohol. Yeah, sure thing, Coach…
By the time I make it out of the building, the sky is a purple-black bruise eating up the peach-tinged skin horizon. I check my phone. One missed call and a voicemail from a number that I don’t have saved but that I recognize as my mother’s cell phone. I delete the message without listening to it.
Here’s the thing: I haven’t spoken to the woman that gave birth to me since she left us three years ago. Every so often she seems to grow a conscience and she’ll call and leave me a message saying a bunch of contrite shit like she misses me and wants to make things right between us. Make things right? Come the fuck on.
I let go of a bitter sigh and turn my focus back to the phone. There’s a text from Kate asking me whether or not she left her shorts at my place last week and one from my sister, Sophie. I ignore the one from Kate and respond to Sophie. She must be sitting on her phone because she answers right away.
I laugh and start to type back when I hear my name called. I look up and see Daniel jogging toward me with his gym bag and a damp towel in his hand.
“I forgot to ask you about a ride home. My car’s on the fritz again and I dropped it off at the shop this morning,” he shouts, pushing his wet hair back and draping his towel over his shoulder.
I stuff my phone in my front pocket and point to the truck with my thumb. “Yeah. Climb in.”
Three minutes later Daniel’s managed to rip my music apart and tell me six times that my truck smells worse than the dirty socks molding on the bottom of his laundry basket.
I turn up the volume on my stereo and flick him off. My truck is a piece of crap but it gets me from one place to the next so who’s complaining? I’m on a limited budget and since I can’t manage a job in addition to the track team and school, I take what I can get. “Well, you can find yourself a different ride the next time you’re stranded after practice, fuckwad.”
“Or you could just clean up this junker.” He picks up an empty soda can from the floorboard and tosses it in the narrow space behind the seats. “I honestly don’t know how you manage to get girls to go home with you in this thing. It’s foul.”
“Look, I haven’t had any problems so far. And this is fair warning: me and my foul truck are about to get offended and you need to start asking yourself how you’re going to get two kegs to the house in one trip on Friday without my help.”
“Fair enough. I’ll shut up about it.” Daniel laughs and shakes his head. “I guess I forgot that you don’t need to bother with impressing girls to get them to sleep with you. At this point, I’m pretty sure that The Great Cole Everly could roll in dog crap and show up on a bicycle in nothing but a pink tutu and fairy wings and Kate Dutton and every other pretty girl within a ten mile radius would still be lining up for a piece of the action.”
I involuntarily squeeze the steering wheel and tighten my jaw. I don’t know why I’m annoyed, but I am. “Thanks for making me sound like a real douchebag, man. I appreciate that…” I let my voice trail off. “Anyway, I already told you and the other guys that I’m done with Kate. The girl’s been texting me and calling me almost every single day like she’s… like she’s…” I shake my head at a loss for words.
Daniel glances over at me with both of his eyebrows raised. “Oh, you mean that she’s been acting like she likes you? She’s been calling you like she wants a relationship with you after you’ve been fucking her on and off for the past six months?”
I ignore his mocking tone and roll my shoulders. “I’m just not interested in the girl like that and I think I was pretty up front with her about it. I told her from the beginning that I’m not a relationship kind of guy. So if Kate wants to change the game now, she’s going to have to find herself a different player.”
“And that has nothing to do with Aimee Spence
r?”
My eyes meet his briefly before snapping back to the road. The sound of her name is still ricocheting around my chest like a bullet. “What are you talking about? What the fuck does Aimee Spencer have to do with anything I just said?”
Daniel shrugs his shoulders. He tilts his head toward the passenger side window and plays with the window controls. “Noelle Melker told me that Aimee’s back from wherever she ran off to last year.” He coughs twice. “Then I saw you with her at Dirty Ernie’s and you two looked cozy. I just thought that something might be happening between you and that’s why you’re kicking Kate to the curb.”
I snort. “Nothing’s happening there.”
I don’t tell him that I invited Aimee and her friend to the party at our house on Friday or that I spent at least an hour on Sunday stalking her online like a psychopath.
I skimmed through a few articles about the accident, but what drew my attention the most were the photos of Aimee from back when she swam competitively. It was strange—like looking at snapshots of a totally different person. Her hair was shorter and her body was thicker with a swimmer’s muscles, but that wasn’t what got me. In almost every single picture, Aimee was smiling. A real fucking smile. And her smile was just like I imagined it would be—so wide and beautiful that it put the sun to shame. It twisted something down in my gut and kept me transfixed to the point where I had to slam my laptop shut and go on a long run just to be able to think about something else.
I can feel Daniel watching me from the passenger seat. I look over. “Nothing’s happening,” I repeat.
“I wouldn’t mind if there was something there.” He takes a deep breath and rolls his tongue over his bottom lip. “I’m not going lie and say that it’s not a little strange for me that she’s going to school here now. Aimee—” He pauses and somehow the sound of the truck engine rumbling seems louder than it did two seconds ago. “She was… Cole, you wouldn’t know anything about this, but she and my sister were like the same person. They shared and traded everything—clothes, guys… everything. I’ve never known friends like that. They were so close that it was an ongoing joke with my family that Aimee and Jillian were the opposite of Siamese twins—one head controlling two bodies.”
In This Moment Page 5
