Vérité

by Rachel Blaufeld

  I lay down on the futon in the common area and sat staring out the window. Stars filled the sky, twinkling with hope. Unable to take in their beauty—it wasn’t meant for me—I turned my phone off and tossed it on the table. I ran my hand ran over the small incision where they took my spleen, massaging the scar tissue, before bringing it over my chest, settling on my heart.

  I didn’t try to massage or squeeze it back to life, just held my hand steady over it, trying to keep it in one piece.

  Life was back to normal by Wednesday . . . my new normal. Early practice and babysitting (aka study hour), classes, and dinner with Ginny and Bryce.

  Apparently, Bryce was a new fixture at our table. I stared at his enormous arms and shoulders, at the stupid Road Runner tattoo on his bicep. I stirred my mundane salad around my plate before dipping it in dressing and shoving it in my mouth.

  Actually, I didn’t feel like eating, but we had a meet the next day and I needed to perform on command. My times sucked on Monday. I blamed the fried food but deep down, I knew it was the blowup with Tiberius. Stephanie thought I went out and had a wild time all weekend with the girls, so even though my time was shit, she was happy. So, yeah—I was normal. Classes, salad, and beer pong.

  Of course Tiberius texted, apologized, called, and left messages, then apologized some more. I was too mad to accept any of them. He kept his distance otherwise, too nice to come by unannounced. I was aggravated with all that too. I wouldn’t take his calls or respond to his texts, but somewhere deep inside I wanted him to make some dramatic gesture.

  I was a fucking train wreck of a loser, wanting something I couldn’t have or wouldn’t happen. And my parents were calling—furiously. I had a blister on my finger from hitting DENY CALL.

  Thursday passed with a similar sense of ordinariness until the meet. We came in first place, and the whole gang was raring to go out. Our school had hosted the event, and the locker room near the track was bursting with excitement. Hoots and hollers over a kegger on College Avenue and a haunted hayride reverberated in the locker room and the showers.

  I showered quickly, then tossed on jeans and an off-the-shoulder navy T-shirt before heading toward the door, hoping to make a fast exit. But Nadine stopped me.

  “Hey, Tingly, you coming? Come on, we’re gonna have fun!” She stood there wearing a bra, a towel hooked around her waist, her hair wet. Long gone was her quiet, peaceful running demeanor; she’d been injected with peppiness and overexcitement like everyone else.

  “I don’t know, I’m kinda beat.” I pretended to stare at the big green H on the wall as if it were mesmerizing.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. We’re gonna go to Lupe’s first for some food,” she said, and in a hushed voice added, “and maybe drinks.” Her face brightened. “And then to the parties. You gotta at least come and eat.”

  “Okay,” I said, plopping down on the bench to wait. There was no sense going back and eating alone in the dining hall.

  Finally, Nadine appeared in a cloud of perfume, her blond hair slicked straight, painted-on jeans covering her long legs. Her big hoop earrings reflected the awful locker room track lighting, blinding me as she stepped toward me.

  “Let’s roll, babe,” she shouted, and we headed for the back of the locker room to exit the rear of the track building.

  Nadine was talking a thousand miles a minute. “You know Andrew, from the men’s team? Well, he has a hookup at Lupe’s for free drinks and half-priced food, so we’ll go there, and then we’ll hit up the party on College first and if it’s lame, we’ll bail. Maybe hit the frats? Or that hayride? There’s gonna be booze and lots of guys to snuggle up with—”

  “Tingly!” A deep voice came out of nowhere, interrupting Nadine’s monologue, but I kept walking.

  “Isn’t that your name someone’s calling?” Nadine asked. She whipped her head around, her hair brushing my cheek as it flew through the air.

  Again, his voice rang through the crisp fall air. “Tingly!”

  “Over there, look, Ting . . . over there!” Pointing toward the side entrance, Nadine’s finger homed in on him like a missile on its target.

  “Tingly! Wait,” he yelled, jogging toward me.

  Tiberius looked good in dark jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Dark blue high tops peeked out of his pants as he ran our way, his shirt moving with his muscles. Mesmerized, I couldn’t take my eyes off his cut arms as they flexed and pumped with each stride he took.

  As he neared, I focused on the ground like it was about to swallow me up. I couldn’t meet his expression; it was full of hurt and anxiety. It was a look I clearly put there, and I wasn’t proud of that, but what choice did I have? I needed to protect my heart.

  “Hey, T. Great meet today,” he said.

  “Oh, thanks. You watched?” I kicked a tiny pebble with my shoe, dribbling it like a soccer ball and I was in the World Cup.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  His matter-of-fact response surprised me, considering I’d accused him of using me only a few days before.

  “Hi, I’m Nadine,” my teammate said cheerfully, interrupting our tense moment.

  Shit. I forgot she was there.

  “Tiberius,” he said, and extended his hand to shake hers.

  I finally looked up and frowned at Nadine eyeing Tiberius as if she wanted to climb him like a tree and swing from his branches—or branch, as in his penis.

  “Tiberius and I met in study hall,” I offered. I didn’t know why I kept referring to him that way. Who was I protecting? Him? Or me.

  “Fun! We’re going to Lupe’s. You should come,” she said, continuing to eye-fuck the boy with her hand on her hip, her tits stuck out farther than I thought humanly possible, and her glossy lips held in a supposedly sensual pout.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to intrude.” Tiberius spoke with his gaze on me, seeking silent permission or forgiveness, I wasn’t sure which.

  Nadine’s stupid girly giggle shot through the silence, making me wince. My ears actually hurt listening to her flirt, and I was reminded why I didn’t do beer pong, girls’ nights, or college bullshit. And why I liked presumably mature professors or strong, silent, incredibly mature basketball players.

  “That cool with you, T?” he asked, breaking the silence I’d easily retreated into rather than deal with the situation unfolding in front of me.

  “Sure, why not?” I tried to act nonchalant or cool, anything other than rattled.

  “Great!” Nadine jumped up and down.

  We turned and resumed walking toward downtown as Nadine drew Tiberius into some superficial conversation masked as earth-shattering news. I lagged a little behind the two, drawing into myself as I watched my feet, entranced as one stepped in front of the other.

  I wasn’t sure how long we walked that way or what in the hell those two discussed, because it wasn’t until we hit College Avenue that Tiberius dropped back with me.

  “T?” he said close to my ear. He leaned toward me and the heat from his body licked through my chilled skin. His warm breath ghosted over my bare shoulder, causing goose bumps to line the skin it touched.

  “Yeah?”

  Splaying his hand on my lower back, he whispered, “We good? We should talk.”

  I tried to pick up my pace, but he kept up. He slid his hand under my shirt, coming into full contact with me, skin to skin. When his long fingers skimmed over my spine, I lost all my resolve. Thinking back to the day he ran his finger over his dead mother’s picture, I knew with certainty that I’d overreacted at the diner. This man couldn’t use a woman, even a filthy one like me.

  “Just let it be, Ty. I understand if you can’t forgive me. I was a bitch, but I don’t need you to flaunt it in my face that I don’t have your friendship anymore. Can’t you go flirt with some other girls? Not track ones?”

  We came to a stop next to the wrought-iron gates of the university, engrossed in our conversation. Nadine hurried ahead toward a good time, crossing t
he street and leaving us behind without a second glance.

  He didn’t answer. We stood there as time passed, tension and silence swirling around us, oblivious to the Hafton coeds who passed us on their busy little ways to nowhere important. I was trapped, my feet glued to the cold concrete, unable to move. I tried, but my body wouldn’t let me leave Tiberius.

  “Not flirting, letting you cool off,” he whispered into my ear. “Want you, all of you. Not once or twice, or just for fun. Want all of you, Rex. The naughty and the nice, especially the nice, because I’m scared to death I’m gonna screw up and not be the man you need when it comes to the naughty.”

  Before I could respond, his mouth took possession of mine in the middle of campus. His arm wound around my waist, lifting me an inch or two so I didn’t have to reach on tiptoe to meet his lips. I matched his passion in earnest as college life passed us by; we were the only two in the world at that moment.

  A blaring horn brought us back to earth.

  Disgruntled, Tiberius broke free, setting me down as he looked up. “Shit,” he muttered.

  I followed his gaze and spotted the silver SUV behind the honking. Trey steered the car over to the curb and rolled down the passenger window, revealing Jamel riding shotgun.

  “Wassup?” they yelled through the window.

  “I’m heading out with Tingly, you asses,” Tiberius flung back at them.

  “Out or in?” Jamel prodded with a smirk. Of course, they had to witness our moment.

  “Lupe’s . . . with her team,” Tiberius said, ignoring their teasing.

  “Cool, we’ll come. I feel like hanging out with some skinny bitches,” Jamel joked.

  “Mel.” It was more a threat than anything else, but coming from Tiberius, it sort of warmed me in all the right places.

  “I got ya, bro,” Jamel hollered back before Trey pulled the car away from the corner and into a parking spot.

  I guess they’re really coming.

  As we crossed the street, I leaned in and said, “I’m sorry,” to Tiberius.

  “Don’t be.” He reached down and squeezed my hand. “I shoulda made my intentions more clear. I’m not looking for a quickie fuck, Rex, and neither are you. Even when you try to throw all that ‘I’m a ho’ garbage in my face. We all make shit mistakes.”

  I gulped air, swallowing pollution and exhaust fumes, but was unable to form a response. By the time we reached the door to Lupe’s, Trey and Jamel were hot on our tail.

  Trey grabbed the door from behind me and held it open. “Ladies first, Rex.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe everyone is calling me that. And I thought I didn’t like Tingly.”

  “Oh, come on, it’s cute. Our little guy Ty and his toy, Rex,” Trey teased.

  I knew he was joking. Coming from Jamel, I wouldn’t be so sure, but Trey was deep down a softie—like Tiberius.

  “Come on, I wanna meet your team.” Jamel pushed forward before stopping suddenly, turning his narrowed gaze on me. “Is that fucking prick gonna be here? Logan?”

  I shook my head again. “No, he’s on suspension for a fight he got into at a party.”

  “I told you we shoulda bloodied him up more,” he said—not at all discreetly—to Tiberius.

  “Mel, let it go, man.”

  We had reached a big table in the back covered in pitchers of lime-green and pink margaritas, chips and salsa, and shots of tequila, where a chorus of “Tingly!” greeted us.

  “You made it! Everyone, this is Tiberius.” Nadine came over and slipped under Tiberius’s arm, edging his shoulder over her small frame and smiling up at him.

  Geez. Is it the alcohol making her bold? Or is this her normal?

  “Great time today,” one of my teammates called out.

  “Sit down and grab a drink,” one of the guys shouted.

  Grabbing a pitcher of margaritas, I announced, “This is Jamel and Trey. They’re on the basketball team with Tiberius.”

  The track team was generally pretty nice and welcoming, and tonight was no different. My teammates slid out of their seats and scrambled, pulling more chairs around the table to make room for my friends. Considered the poor stepchildren of the athletic program, we runners were always happy to be considered athletes by the big-revenue sports players.

  Nadine was still bopping up and down on her feet, her tiny little boobs jiggling with every jump. “Do you want something, Tiberius?” she asked, but his teammates interrupted.

  “You want a beer, man?” Jamel asked. He slipped his arm around Tiberius and tugged him away from Nadine, steering him toward where I’d relocated.

  Trey gave me a chin lift and said, “I’m gonna grab a few drinks from the bar. Ones that ain’t so girly. You want anything else?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  Leaning close, Jamel whispered in my ear. “Don’t let your friend get up on your man, girl.”

  Surprised, I gaped up at him. Just when I thought he didn’t like me, he went all big-brother on me.

  “’Kay,” I whispered back.

  “I’m gonna go meet some of these bitches. Behave yourself, Ty,” he said through a laugh, then swaggered off toward the other side of the table.

  Tiberius wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his side. “This okay?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded and took a sip of my margarita. When I peered over my glass to see Nadine looking inquisitively at the two of us, she mouthed, “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You’re pretty fast, girl,” Tiberius said in a low voice, breaking the awkward silence.

  I smiled. It was odd how everything was okay with us. I’d basically accused him of being an epic dick, and then he came and watched my meet before joining the whole team for Mexican.

  “Well, that’s the point,” I joked.

  “Yeah, I pretty much got that,” he quipped back.

  A comfortable easiness seemed to settle over the two of us. I didn’t get it, but I couldn’t resist it either. I reached over and grabbed a chip and plunked it into some salsa. The salty flavor burst into my mouth and tasted amazing after how many calories I burned today. I ran my tongue along my lips, catching any remaining salt, and Tiberius followed its path with his eyes, not missing a single movement. His baby blues darkened, and I caught my reflection in them. I was starved . . . and not for food.

  “Here, man,” Trey interrupted, handing Tiberius his beer, but he didn’t stay. With no further words, he sauntered down toward Jamel and what was now a huge group of girls. Not just track people, but also sorority girls from across the room and a few unaffiliated alternative types from over at the bar. They were hanging on every word that came from Jamel’s mouth, and were equally as awed when Trey approached.

  “Good to see Jamel is being loyal to his girl at home and the one here,” I said somewhat sarcastically.

  “He’s no pope,” Tiberius answered.

  “Obviously.”

  “Told you when we first met, the team was fast. I’m not, but I don’t judge. They’re all I got, ’specially now that my mom is gone.”

  It was an opportunity for me to say he had me, but I didn’t. I swallowed my intended proclamation with a big gulp and sipped my drink. Needing something to do, I grabbed another chip, this one loaded with guacamole, and continued to battle the urge to tell Tiberius he could count on me too.

  Studying me intently, he said, “You don’t have to say anything. I see your thoughts running through your mind. He’s a player, and I’m not. Judging does no one any good. That’s why I’m not judging you, other than by how you make me feel. Which is good,” he explained, jarring my thoughts, forcing them to dig deeper into my mind. And soul.

  Glancing toward the window, I noticed the sun was down, daylight now just a memory like our fight from earlier in the week. Lupe’s dimmed the lights a bit and turned up the music, the restaurant slipping from happy hour into full-on party time. Some college grunge came through the speakers, and I swayed to the beat.
r />   “These tunes are shit,” Tiberius said, his hand on my hip.

  I laughed. “You don’t like the music?”

  “Nah. This is crap. Not even a fucking beat . . . but I do like your dancing.” His voice was somewhat hoarse, made scratchy by what I hoped was need. For me.

  “I kind of like it,” I teased him. “The music.”

  He gave me a mock glare. “Stop it, I know you’re kidding. You could not even talk to me if you liked this shit.”

  “Well, what would you rather they play?”

  “Taylor Swift.”

  I burst out laughing so hard I spilled my drink across the table, causing a commotion and everyone’s attention to turn toward us.

  “What you do, Tiberius?” Jamel yelled across the room.

  “He wants to hear some Taylor Swift,” I yelled back, practically doubled over in fits of laughter.

  “Bro, I told you to date the skinny white chick, but you don’t have to like that music . . . shit she likes,” came hurled from the other side of the room.

  Tiberius broke into a huge smile, his dimple coming out. It was such a contradiction to his daunting stature, but I loved it.

  “Nah, man. She’s busting balls,” he hollered back. “Let’s blow this joint and go somewhere else. Tingly wants to dance.”

  “I’m in,” was shouted all around. Everyone started throwing bills on the table, then Jamel led the crowd out of Lupe’s and gave instructions as to where we should go.

  “I think I’m still gonna go to the party on College,” Nadine said, and one of the other girls offered to go with her.

  “Okay, ’bye. Have fun!” I said while hurrying off with my hand inside Tiberius’s.

  As many as we could fit piled into Trey’s SUV; the others walked toward the address. It was an apartment right off campus. Apparently, one of the grad students who coached the team was having a party. The car was vibrating, rap tearing through the air as we drove the short distance.

  It was such a different experience from the last time I rode in the SUV. I sat next to Tiberius, my thigh rubbing up against his, and I considered taking Tiberius home and not going to the party at all. But I wanted more than just the physical.