by Sally Henson
I scanned the gym, looking at my teammates in their tight buns and practice uniforms. Besides contributing to the team for our number one standing, Tessa was the only one who acted like she even wanted me there.
Coach put her arm across my shoulders, putting us in motion toward the cubbies where we stashed our gym bags. “You need to be an example for them too.”
How could I be an example for them when I was struggling to keep myself together?
Mr. Graff and his big mouth.
As soon as I got out of the shower, there was a knock at my door the same time my phone dinged. “Just a minute,” I called.
I hoped the ding was Ryan returning my message. He had said math and economics were his thing. Bonus, that would give me a reason to hang out with him.
After I slipped on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top and twisted my hair back up in the towel, I swung open the door.
Gamela crossed the hallway. “You have a visitor,” she said, opening her door.
Ryan stood in her room.
My eyes widened. It was getting close to curfew. But seeing his signature smile turned the knots in my stomach from the talk with Coach to bubbly flips.
The smile that stretched across my face had become automatic whenever he was around. I checked the hall to make sure no one was out before shooing him inside.
He ran across, and I quickly closed my door. Excitement burst like popcorn kernels inside me. Once again, I found myself out of breath at his presence. I managed to ask, “What are you doing here?”
He set his laptop on my desk and met my gaze. “You said you needed me. So …” He bowed, as he’d done once before. “I am at your beck and call.”
I rolled my eyes with a giggle at his repeated reference from the night he’d found me in the gardens by the library. “How’d you get past the Grinch?” That was what the girls called the dorm chaperone. I couldn’t even remember her real name because no one used it.
“I know people.” He sank down on my chair, kicking his feet up on my desk. “Nice hair.”
Crap! I’d forgotten my hair was in a towel. “Oh, uh. I thought you were Gamela. I’ll be right back.” I slipped into the bathroom and combed my hair out, checking my reflection. Ugh. It wasn’t bad enough that I looked like a drowned rat; knowing that drowned my excitement too.
It was late. I was tired. He had seen me sweaty and stinky after gymnastics before. Whatever.
But then there was the almost kiss after the dance that had never been brought up. I shook the memory out my head. No kissing. Do not think about kissing.
I came back out. Ryan had propped himself on my bed, computer open on his lap, ankles crossed and hanging off the edge with my computer next to him.
Just the sight of him again made me forget about looking like a rodent.
“So you’ll help me with Mr. Graff?” I asked.
“I will. I’m looking at your schedule. Is that the only one you need help with? You know, I’m a straight-A student.”
I burst out laughing. “Right.” If he goofed around in every class like he did in economics … nuh-uh. “You said you were good in math. I hope you’re not lying about that too.”
“Check out my grades if you don’t believe me.” He tapped on the keyboard and swiveled his computer my direction.
A after A after A. I scrolled through every year clear back to sixth grade. “You’ve been here since sixth grade? Living here?”
He nodded. “I told you I grew up here.”
I checked the last two years. Oh. My. Gosh. I’d thought since I was a year ahead in my homeschooling that I was smart, until I had Mr. Kremer. If I had the summer to do my schooling too, I wouldn’t have issues with math, but Ryan had a better than perfect score.
“Okay. I guess you’re qualified.” I opened my laptop and sat beside him. “Let’s get started before they have room check.”
He tilted his head, looking over at me with his ocean eyes. “We need to discuss my fee first.”
“Fee?” Heat rushed from my chest to my neck. “I didn’t know I had to pay you.”
I’d asked for his tutoring because:
A. I knew him.
B. He said he was great at math.
C. He had told me before he’d help me.
And most of all, I’d thought there was something between us. Chemistry. Attraction. And maybe he couldn’t stop thinking about our almost kiss either.
Other signs were there too, I thought. Like he continued to walk me to first, second, and third period after the crutches were gone. He’d almost kissed me once. He ate lunch with Gamela and me most of the time. And did I mention he almost kissed me?
“It’s not too much. I think you can afford it.” He winked.
I groaned and tore my gaze away. What was I thinking? I knew nothing about boys. My heart sank into my stomach. I needed tutored regardless of chemistry and all the other stuff. With straight As, Ryan was obvious the best candidate.
I shoved down my pride and asked, “How much?”
His fingers brushed my arm. “Drive into Seattle with me.”
I peeked up at him through my lashes. I hated that I jumped to the conclusion that he was joking about almost everything. His soft smile lifted my heart back where it belonged. Seattle was only a drive away, but I was in the gym every day. “When?”
“When I say, that’s when,” he said teasingly, poking at my side.
I snickered at his attempt to tickle me. “I really need to be in the gym as much as possible.”
His brows rose as he dipped his head and took on a more serious tone. “That’s my fee. Take it or leave it.”
My heart was a yo-yo being tugged between the gravity of Ryan and gymnastics. Spending time with him had been a good thing so far. I’d grown to like him—a lot—along with the nervousness that quivered inside when he was around. Most of all, it wasn’t affecting my gymnastics. And the thought of driving into Seattle with him … “I’ll take it.”
Chapter 13
“This is Olympic art?” I asked as my friends and I walked through the expansive park near the ocean.
Gamela giggled. “I thought the same thing the first time I came here.”
I glanced up at her; she was wearing a blue-green scarf that matched her eyes over a navy-colored peacoat jacket. “What do these sculptures have to do with the Olympics?”
“The Olympic National Forest, ladies,” Ryan said, motioning across the water to the mountainous green terrain, “is right over there. This is part of Olympic Peninsula.”
Gamela and I looked at each other and broke out into laughter. “I guess that makes sense,” I said, letting the giggles fade and stuck my gloved hands in my coat pockets.
We trekked the expanse of the park, but what held my attention most was the ocean, inky and heavy. So much different from the coast of Texas.
We slid into the dark gray Porsche Taycon, and Ryan drove to our next destination. The warmth of the heated seat caused me to sink into the smooth leather even more. My dad would be outraged if he knew I was driving around Seattle in an electric car.
The thought stretched a grin of satisfaction across my face.
“What’s so funny?” Ryan asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s just … this is nice. Being here with you guys.”
We visited the Space Needle and the Seattle Center before heading downtown to Pike Place Market. They did some serious shopping. I only got a couple of shirts and a pair of pants.
“How about dinner on the water?” Ryan asked, closing the trunk lid of his car.
“Um …” Gamela hummed with a sheepish expression. She quickly moved her gaze to the sleek buildings of downtown. “I hope you guys don’t mind, but I have to be somewhere.”
I chuckled. “Right.”
“Are you talking solo? Or do you want us to go with you?” Ryan asked.
“I’ll meet you at Starbucks in—” She checked the time on her phone. “—like three hours? I’ll message yo
u.”
My eyebrows drew together. “I don’t like the idea of you being by yourself.” I didn’t know the city, but it wasn’t smart for any girl, no matter how young or old they were, to be walking around alone.
She leaned in and gave me a quick hug. “I’ll be fine. Promise. It’s just … I have a meeting about some family stuff.”
“Oh.” My shoulders fell. I didn’t know much about Gamela’s family. She never wanted to talk about them. But I didn’t like discussing mine either. We didn’t push or ask each other too many questions.
“Ally’s right. At least let us walk you to the building.”
She checked her phone. “Actually, my car should be pulling up.”
A silver Mercedes stopped across the road from where Ryan’s car was parked. A blond woman who didn’t seem to be much older than us sat in the driver’s seat and waved.
“That’s my ride. Sorry to bail. But I think you two will be fine without me.”
I had a feeling she and Ryan were exchanging silent communication over my head. Sometimes, being five foot three sucked.
Chapter 14
Spending the day in a new city with a boy on what might be a date was a first. I’d had so many firsts since meeting him. Each one left me wanting more.
Ryan held my hand every time we crossed a street. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t a little girl—but I liked the way it felt. About two crossings ago, I’d stopped letting go, and so had he.
“Do you see a trash can?” I asked. “This bubblegum is dead.”
“Dead?” He chuckled the word.
“You know, it lost its flavor. Now it’s dead.”
“Is that a Southern thing or a Texan thing?”
I nudged him off balance. “It’s just a thing. I thought everyone knew that.”
“It’s an Ally thing,” he said, grinning down at me.
I loved that grin, and the way his eyes twinkled when he said my name.
“I have plans for your dead gum, so don’t throw it away.”
Everything was so clean … the streets, sidewalks, buildings. And the air was different from Houston. I’d noticed that when I’d first stepped onto Seattle soil. Ryan led us down a sidewalk of a narrow brick path that seemed only wide enough for one vehicle. As we moved along the decline, I saw a “Market Theater” marquee with an improv time listed.
“Okay.” Ryan stopped when an espresso shop came into view and turned me to face him. “This is my favorite place in all of Seattle.”
“Yeah?” I didn’t know if he was talking about the coffee place or the theater, but I wanted to find out. I’d learned so much about him since he’d become my tutor … and friend. Hanging out with my two favorite heirs of billionaires, away from campus, had been the best day since I’d arrived, including my time in the gym—and that was saying something.
“Close your eyes,” he said softly. “I want it to be a surprise.”
The drop in his voice triggered flips in my stomach. I nodded and did as he asked, afraid my voice would squeak if I spoke.
He placed one hand over my eyes and gently guided me with the other hand on my waist. “Step down.”
My balance was better than most, but I needed to feed off of his steadiness while my eyes were shut. I felt for his arms and gripped his coat.
The aroma of coffee grew stronger, along with the buzz of voices. When we finally stopped, he moved from behind me—“Keep your eyes closed”—to before me, removing his hand from my eyes. “Okay. You can look …”
I blinked my eyes open and searched for something spectacular that was Ryan’s favorite place. What I saw was certainly nothing I’d ever seen in my entire life. Pieces of chewing gum, in every color possible and in various forms, were stuck to the brick wall. Not just in one spot, either. It started where a stucco building met the brick structure of a tunnel bridge. It extended all the way to the next street. My nose wrinkled as I thought about how many people’s spit was stuck on the wall.
“What do you think?” he asked.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the sticky mess, scanning back and forth, up and down. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Silent laughter shook my shoulders.
He laughed. “You should see your face.” Pressing a hand to his stomach, he managed another comment: “Priceless.”
I swatted his arm. “This is a joke, right?” It was pretty clear it was a joke, but I had noticed my new classmates had very different ideas than me when it came to fun, cool places and amazing experiences.
“Our dead gum.” He pinched his between his fingers and grinned. “Where should we put it?”
It was silly, but I think I fell for him at “our dead gum.”
How had his dumb jokes ever driven me crazy? I took mine out and spotted the outline of a heart made of pink stickiness. What would he think if we stuck ours in the middle? Nerves tickled my belly. But I strode toward the heart, biting back the nerves, and motioned to the spot. “How about here?”
His eyes sparked. “Excellent choice.”
We stuck ours in the middle together. Afterwards, he didn’t waste any time reaching for my hand. For some reason, the possibility that traces of our saliva co-mingled on our entwined fingers didn’t bother me.
We strolled along the gum wall. It was way longer than it should have been. I mean, it was kind of gross. But people were stopped all along the path, taking photos and selfies and adding to the sticky collection.
Chapter 15
“When I’m in New York for the summer, Puget Sound is what I miss most about Seattle.” Ryan led us away from downtown. I was enjoying the feel of my hand in his and getting to know him. It was as if a string connected our hearts, and the more we walked and talked, the closer the connection became.
“Why?” The past few weeks, we’d laughed and talked about school stuff, but nothing too personal. And for some reason, I craved knowing him more. “What is it that makes it your favorite?”
He tilted his head as he connected with my gaze. The way he looked at me started the quivers in my belly again. They’d been happening all day. “On the occasion my dad came to visit, which was rare, it was the one place that calmed the tension between us.”
He’d mentioned things here and there about his dad: what he’d done for a living, that he’d passed away, and that he’d gone to private school too. But I always stopped him before he went too deep, if only because I didn’t want to talk about my parents.
“So you had a love-hate relationship?” I asked.
He snorted. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I respected him. But he put so much pressure on me. For as long as I can remember, I had to be the best. Be perfect. When I was, he poured praise and gifts on me as if I were king of the whole freaking world.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “When I didn’t meet his standards …” He squeezed my hand and took a deep breath. “It was miserable. We loved each other when I was the best and hated each other when I failed. That’s what it seemed like, anyway.”
Ryan seemed so happy-go-lucky. I’d had no idea he’d dealt with that. “You’re always joking around. Never seem to take anything seriously.”
He stopped.
I looked at our surroundings. Across from us and the busy road was a vast body of water.
He tugged on my hand, and we sprinted through the traffic. Off to the side stood a woman and a small food vendor cart. “How about some hot chocolate?”
“Sure.” Even though I’d worn a jacket and Ryan holding my hand had kept me fairly warm, it seemed colder where we stood. He ordered our drink, and we walked along the water’s edge.
“I wasn’t always like this, Ally.” He chuckled and said, “I used to be you.”
I had just taken a sip of the warm liquid and spewed it out as I coughed on his words. Me? He was a guy. He was not a gymnast or in any other sport that I was aware of. My stomach tightened and I asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I just mean serious.” His playful grin widened as he pre
ssed a thumb between my eyebrows and smoothed the skin. “Don’t frown.” The bottom lip of his mouth jutted out in a pout.
Oh my gosh. It was so kissably adorable.
“I like you, Ally.” His thumb trailed across my forehead and swiped the stray locks blowing against my skin.
I could hear myself swallow.
“And maybe you don’t find me so annoying anymore?”
Giggles bubbled in my chest, but I held them in place. “Yes.” I shook my head. “I mean, no.” What was the grammatically correct way to say it? It wouldn’t come to me, so I said, “I like you too.”
His fingers joined mine once again. “Will you tell me about your family? Why you came here in the middle of the school year?”
I glanced at my cup of cocoa. Maybe he understood being dumped by your parents. He’d spent most of his childhood growing up in a place without his family.
“You can trust me.” His voice yearned for me to share.
I put us in motion again. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. Not anymore, at least. Thinking about the whole thing made me so sad, and it affected my training, studies, everything. “It’s not a big secret.” Tears pricked at my eye already. “Just a warning, I’ll probably cry.”
His shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s okay.” Ryan had shared so much. I was ready to let him in, ready for him to know me.
I started from the beginning and explained how I’d injured my ankle and torn a ligament, and the doctor’s prognosis had been that my career was over. But I hadn’t wanted to give up, and my coach had encouraged me to continue. She’d seen girls recover from the same injury.
“But recovery was slow. It didn’t take long for my parents to decide the doctor was right. My dad committed to a consulting position in the Middle East in the oil industry. He wanted us to be with him because of the culture or something. If that wasn’t enough, we had two weeks before moving. They told me all this at Christmas dinner. Can you believe that?” The emotions were so raw, I practically yelled in Ryan’s face. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to bother him.
