After Math

by Denise Grover Swank

  He grins. “You’re cute when you blush like that.”

  I glance down at the table. “I’m glad somebody thinks so.”

  He lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. “You’re perfect, Scarlett. Don’t be embarrassed about who you are.”

  How does he do that? How can I go from feeling embarrassed and nervous to relaxed and at peace in a few seconds? No drug, no therapy for my anxiety, has ever been able to accomplish what Tucker can do with a smile and a touch.

  “I’ll still work with you, but we both know that you really don’t need me except to explain a few things. You have me anytime you want me now.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He leans over the table and kisses me. “But I hope I can come up with a better use for my time with you other than studying algebra.”

  “I happen to like studying algebra.”

  “Then you study algebra and I’ll do other things.” His voice lowers on the last words and I feel flushed for a reason other than embarrassment.

  “Do you want to work out with me tonight?” he asks.

  I waggle my eyebrows. “And here I thought we were working out.”

  He laughs. “God, I love you.”

  I suck a breath and lean away, pressing my back into the chair.

  His smile falls, and he takes my hand. “I love you, Scarlett.”

  How can he know that? We’ve only known each other a few weeks.

  “I know it seems fast. But sometimes you just know.”

  I gnaw on my lip, unsure how to respond.

  “I don’t expect you to say it back. Not yet. But I don’t want to pretend I don’t.”

  I feel like I should be scared. This is so huge, but it feels right. Like we’re supposed to be together. I’m not sure if what I feel is love or not. I know it’s strong, and I want to be with him, but is this love? I can’t say the words until I’m sure.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Do you want to work out?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I do.”

  “I’ll pick you up at your apartment at seven-thirty. Okay?”

  Why does the idea of working out fill me with such happiness? It’s because of the person I’m working out with. “Sounds perfect.”

  ***

  Tina is in the math lab when I show up for my shift in the afternoon. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “What happened with Tucker?”

  How she knew I was with Tucker when Caroline didn’t is beyond me. But Tina seems to know everything that happens around Southern University’s campus.

  “I’m on my way to resign from tutoring Tucker. What does that tell you?” I ask.

  Her mouth drops open, and I laugh. Let her get the wrong idea.

  Dr. Carlisle is in his office, and he’s thrilled when I tell him that Tucker has learned the subject well enough that he no longer needs me. “I heard he made a B-plus on his exam. Great job, Scarlett.”

  “Thanks.”

  The afternoon is busy so I’m caught off guard when I glance up and discover Jason sitting in a chair against the wall. I have no idea how long he’s been there, but the scowl on his face tells me he’s not happy. His gaze is locked on me and pure hatred flows from him. The muscles in my back tighten and blood rushes to my head. The student I’m working with looks up when he realizes he’s lost my attention. I clench my hands in my lap and try to concentrate on the student’s problem.

  When we finish and the student gathers his things to leave, I stand. “Tina, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She nods and casts a worried glance toward Jason.

  I walk into the hall, all the way to the end, and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands, staring out the window onto the university campus. My panic is about to explode, but I push it down. I can do this. I sense him approach, and he stands next to me, too close.

  “I told you to stay away from him.”

  My pulse pounds in my head, and I force my breaths to come in slow, even waves. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business.”

  “It is where my brother is concerned.”

  “Your foster brother.”

  He pauses. “I know what’s best for Tucker. You don’t know him. For some reason you think you do, but you don’t.”

  I turn toward him. “I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

  “He’s skipping team training sessions. He’s only half-playing in the practice games. He’s losing his edge, and it’s because of you.”

  Could that be true? I know Tucker can’t work out as hard with me as he would on his own.

  “Scarlett, do the both of you a favor and leave this now before someone gets hurt.”

  It’s too late for that. If either of us leaves, we’ll be devastated. “You keep making vague threats. What exactly do you think is going to happen?”

  Jason leans his hand on the window in front of me and lowers into my face. “Tucker was born to play soccer. He’s got a gift most players dream about. A gift I would kill for. But when he’s complacent he loses his edge. He has a good shot of being picked up by a pro team within the next few weeks. A few scouts are supposed to be coming to check him out and we’re expecting a couple of offers, but they won’t make an offer if he’s lost his edge. And trust me, their scouts will come to watch him.”

  Complacent? Does he mean happy? But I can see how Tucker might be missing things because of me. Other than the mandatory practice last Saturday, I’ve never heard him mention working out with his team. “Don’t you think Tucker should finish college before going pro?”

  He scoffs. “Tucker won’t need a degree. He’ll be a professional player.”

  I can’t believe what he’s saying, “That’s pretty shortsighted.”

  His eyes widen. “Shortsighted? It’s more shortsighted to hope he doesn’t get some career-ending injury. Tucker has the opportunity to make a lot of money if he can make it to the European circuit.”

  “But what about whether he’s happy or not?”

  Shaking his head, he laughs. “Happy? Money and fame will make Tucker happy.”

  Tucker’s attention-seeking, destructive behavior fits with that kind of life. Jason’s insistence that Tucker not alter his behavior makes me wonder if his foster family encouraged this public persona. “Do you even know what Tucker really wants?” I ask.

  “Do you?”

  No, but I intend to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When I get home, Caroline is sitting on the sofa, eating macaroni and cheese from the pot.

  “Bad day?” I ask, tossing my coat on a chair.

  She shoves a wooden spoonful of noodles in her mouth.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Who gives a shit what the difference is between nylon and polyester?” she grumbles.

  “I take it your test in textiles didn’t go well.”

  She shoves another bite into her mouth.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Caroline shrugs, then looks up at me. “You’ve made the gossip at Southern.”

  I sit on the arm of the sofa. “What?”

  “People are talking about you and Tucker.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course they are. You had to know this would happen. Tucker Price is acting completely out of character, and everyone is saying it’s because of you. Which means a lot of girls hate you.”

  I stand. “Great.” I go into the kitchen and make a peanut butter sandwich and take it to my room. “I’m going to work out. Tucker’s going to pick me up in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Working out, huh? Is that what you crazy kids call it?” she calls down the hall.

  “Very funny.”

  I know I shouldn’t care what people say about me, but I do. The thought of other people talking about me, and it being completely out of my control makes the hair on my arms stand on end. I’m close to hyperventilating when Tucker shows up.

  I answer within seconds of his knock. He takes one look at me and
his forehead creases with worry.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “It’s stupid. Let’s go.” I head for the staircase, but Tucker grabs my arm and pulls me back.

  “If something has upset you, then it’s not stupid.”

  “Jason came to see me today.”

  His eyes widen, then darken with rage. “He did what?”

  No matter what Jason’s motives really are, he does seem concerned about Tucker’s future. “He’s worried about you.”

  “I told him that my life is none of his fucking business.”

  “He told me that you were skipping team training and practices. Because of me. Is that true?”

  He inhales deeply and exhales my name. “Scarlett.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” I move to the stairs and sit down.

  He sits next to me, our hips touching. “It’s not that simple.”

  “But you have missed practices and training because of me.”

  “Yeah.” He threads his fingers with mine.

  Guilt floods my head even though I tell myself I didn’t ask him to. “Why?”

  “I’d rather be with you.”

  I tilt my head to look into his face. “I know you don’t love soccer, but do you hate it?”

  He leans his forehead into mine. “It’s not that simple, Scarlett.”

  “I’m pretty smart.” I say, making sure it doesn’t come across as snotty. “I understand plenty of complex things.”

  He kisses me and I lean into his chest, content to be with him. But Tucker is anything but content, even if he claims to be happy with me.

  “Tucker, do you like playing soccer at all?”

  He sighs and pulls my body flush with his. “I used to. Back when I was in middle school and high school. I loved it. But once I came to college, set on becoming pro, it wasn’t fun anymore.” He kisses my forehead. “But I’m good at it, Scarlett. I may fuck up everything else in my life, but soccer is the one thing I get right.”

  “You and I are good together.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I’ll fuck that up, too. Eventually.”

  “We’re going to fight. We’re going to disagree. But that’s not fucking us up, Tucker.”

  He doesn’t respond, and instead looks lost and forlorn.

  “Now that you can see me anytime you want, you can go to the all the practices and trainings, right?”

  “Yeah.” But he doesn’t sound happy.

  “When’s your next practice that you actually play soccer?”

  “We have a scrimmage on Saturday afternoon.”

  “I want to come see you play and judge for myself whether you’re awesome or not.”

  He smiles. “Promise you’ll come?”

  “I promise.” I press my lips against his. “Are you missing something to be with me tonight?”

  A small smile turns up his lips. “No.”

  “Then let’s go work out.”

  We head to the fitness center, and I realize I haven’t told him about my anxiety over being the center of gossip, but the attention we garner once we get to the gym takes care of the issue for me.

  Tucker’s so used to being the center of attention that he doesn’t realize people are watching us. Not until he realizes I’m anxious during our second lap walking around the track.

  Concern darkens his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Dating you comes with drawbacks.” When I see the panic on his face, I realize I’ve worded my answer badly. “Not you, Tucker. It’s the attention that comes with you.”

  His shoulders relax and understanding dawns on him. “I’m sorry. We can go somewhere else.”

  I want to run far and fast and out of the sight of curious eyes. But Tucker’s belief in me gives me strength I didn’t have before. “No. I need to deal with it. Once people get used to us together, we’ll get less attention.”

  He doesn’t seem entirely satisfied with my answer, but we fall into silence as we finish our run.

  ***

  We spend every night together at my apartment and part of me worries this is all happening too quickly. When I broach the subject with Tucker, he shakes his head in disbelief. “How can something so good be too much?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of everything in moderation?”

  He pulls me flush to his chest and kisses me. “The person who said that obviously never loved you.”

  Tucker has gotten several secretive phone calls while we’re together. He refuses to share any details, but he’s always subdued for hours afterward. He knows his secrets upset me so each time he compromises by telling me something else from his past. He hates chocolate. His birth father is serving time for second-degree murder after killing a convenience store clerk in a robbery. His mother died of a drug overdose when he was twelve. He lived on his own for a month and half before anyone realized he was unsupervised and put him in foster care. He never mentions a brother, and I know better than to inquire.

  Every time he shares something, I share something, too. I was on the academic team in high school. (Although he told me this information is too obvious to count.) My first boyfriend was in my freshman year of college and only lasted a couple of months, mostly due to my lack of interest. I was friends with a girl in the fifth grade and I spent every minute I could at her house, wishing I was part of her family. She moved away before the beginning of sixth grade and I was depressed for a month.

  On Thursday night, we’re in bed after making love for the second time. I’m lying in Tucker’s arms, and his fingers lightly stroke my arm. I’ve never felt so at peace. I never knew this happiness was possible.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Tucker says softly. “Maybe we should get an apartment together.”

  I prop up on one elbow, feeling slightly panicked. This is a big step. “What about Caroline?”

  “She can keep this one.”

  “What about Jason?”

  Tucker shrugs. “He won’t care.”

  I rub my forehead, staring at Tucker’s clock, which is perched on the nightstand. “He’s your roommate so he can keep an eye on you. He’ll never agree.”

  “So what? Fuck him.”

  “Jason hates me. He thinks I’m destroying your career. He’s not some random stranger or friend. It’s your brother. This will make him hate me even more.”

  “So what? You of all people should know that family doesn’t necessarily mean jack shit.” Irritation pinches his mouth. “What difference does it make? We spend all our time here anyway.”

  “You don’t—”

  Tucker’s phone rings and guilt washes over his face as he glances at it.

  I’m sure it’s one of his secretive phone calls. I climb out of bed, reaching for my robe. “It’s okay. Answer it.”

  His demeanor changes within seconds of answering. He stands and begins to pace. “Slow down, Marcel. Slow down.”

  My head jerks up.

  Tucker notices my attention and sits on the edge of the bed, stepping into his jeans. “Don’t do that, man.” He pauses. “I’m coming. For God’s sake, just wait until I get there, okay?”

  I know I’m eavesdropping, but this seems important enough for me to know about.

  Closing his eyes, Tuckers pleads, “Promise me you’ll wait. Promise.”

  He hangs up and continues dressing.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  “I can see that, Tucker. Where?”

  “Nashville.” He refuses to look at me.

  “Nashville? Why are you going somewhere two hours away at this time of night?”

  He stares into my face, his own etched with worry. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gives me a peck on the lips and opens the door.

  “Who the hell is Marcel, Tucker?”

  He shakes his head.

  “You owe me an answer.”

  His eyes harden. “Do I, Scarlett? There’s a fucking hell of a lot I don’t know about you.”

  “You do
n’t see me running to Nashville at midnight either, do you? You seriously think you’d let me run off without demanding an explanation?”

  He sighs, and his face softens as he reaches for me, but I back out of his reach. As soon as I’m in his arms or his lips touch my skin, I’ll give in and I don’t want to. “You have to trust me, Scarlett.”

  I sit on the bed, tears burning my eyes. It’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s that he doesn’t trust me.

  He squats in front of me and takes my hands in his. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. I promise.”

  I don’t answer. I’m not sure what to say. Finally, I square my shoulders. “Go.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head. “Go. But when you come back, I think you should spend the night at your place tomorrow.”

  Disbelief lifts his eyebrows. “You’re breaking up with me?”

  “No. But I think this is moving too fast, and you aren’t ready to commit to me yet. Not if you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on. So I think we need a break. At least for a day or two.”

  He stands but doesn’t protest my announcement. “You’ll still come to my practice to watch me play Saturday?”

  “I promised that I would.”

  Tears fill his eyes as he steps backward and grabs the doorknob. “I love you, Scarlett.”

  “But it’s not enough, is it?”

  He turns and leaves, and I wonder how my life can turn so quickly from happiness to despair.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Turns out I’m miserable without Tucker, which is beyond ridiculous. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, only been together for one, yet I feel like my heart has been torn out, ripped to pieces, and stuffed back inside my chest.

  I tell Caroline about our fight in the morning and seek her opinion. “Am I wrong?” I secretly hope she tells me that I am.

  Tears fill her eyes. “No, Scar. You’re not wrong. This is huge if he’s running to a city two hours away and won’t tell you why. For all you know, Marcel is a girl.”

  That thought steals my breath before I make myself calm down. “No, he called Marcel his brother.”