by Kacey Shea
Because I believe in second chances. That we all deserve to love and be loved. I believe in the power of grace.
But what about Chase? Doesn’t he deserve those things, too? He’s not here, but he’s the first person who comes to mind. Have I offered him the acceptance the AA community provided me when I first made the commitment to seek help? How can I expect him to be better when I don’t give him the opportunity to prove himself? My gut tightens with anxiety and shame as I think back on each of our interactions this last week. I’m embarrassed that I allowed our history to cloud my behavior in such a negative way. That’s not the woman I want to be. I’m better than that. As the meeting ends and I walk back to my car, I resolve to change my attitude toward him, even if it pushes me way outside of my comfort zone.
23
Chase
I’m surprised when Alicia doesn’t ask me to take a breathalyzer test after I check in to the center on Monday morning. Further shocked when she assigns me a regular janitorial task—mopping floors. For whatever reason, she’s decided I’m not the scum of the earth. It’s all very . . . suspicious. It’s not as if anything’s changed between us. How could it? I haven’t seen her since Friday.
By mid-afternoon, I decide mopping isn’t as easy as it looks. My back is on fire and my arms ache with each shove of the mop. This community center is huge and fuck, I’m really out of shape. Maybe Alicia’s Mr. Miyagi-ing me, but instead of teaching karate, she’s tricking me into an exercise routine.
I’m halfway down one of the halls when I overhear Alicia’s voice coming from one of the classrooms. I edge closer to the open door, curious what she’s up to, and why she sounds so fucking polite. I almost chuckle at the thought of her addressing me in such a courteous manner. Hell will freeze over before that happens.
She doesn’t notice my approach, her back to me as she talks to the group of teens wearing bored expressions. I spot the kids from the store—Tyler, Bailey, and Hunter—sitting near the back.
“This sucks.” One of the teens sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t we just put on a movie or something.”
“No,” Alicia says. She smiles but it’s forced and her irritation is clear in the etch of her brow. “What would that teach you about activism?”
“It’s not like they’re going to even read our letters.”
“Yeah,” one of the other boys chimes in. “We can’t vote. They don’t give a fuck about what we think.”
“Language.”
He just laughs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, Mom.”
She’s trying too hard and really, that’s her downfall. The teenagers regard her with skepticism and a little disrespect. Part of the problem is she’s too approachable. I mean, she’s their height so even her physical presence lacks intimidation. Plus, from what I’ve overheard around the center, the last guy who had her position let these kids do whatever they wanted. They need to be set straight. They need to realize how lucky they are to have an adult who gives a shit. Teenagers are tough. When I think back to my past self, I’m sure I would have given someone like Alicia a hard time, too. It’s no easy feat to remain relatable and still tout the authority that comes with her supervisory role.
“Come on, if Miss Martin needs us to write these letters, then let’s get it over with,” Tyler says. I admire the kid’s gumption, especially considering his unpopular opinion.
“Figures.” Hunter rolls up a piece of paper and throws it at Tyler, hitting him in the face. “The dork wants to write letters.”
“At least I know how to compose a sentence.” Tyler smiles smugly and twirls his pencil through the air.
Hunter laughs. “Yeah. Too bad you can’t get laid.”
“Fuck you!” Tyler springs to his feet and I have to give him credit because he doesn’t cower as Hunter meets his stance.
“Hey!” Alicia shoves her small frame between the two. “Enough. Everyone, that’s enough.”
I rap my knuckles against the open door. “Excuse me. Alicia?”
“What?” she practically snaps.
I almost chuckle, but my intent is to help, not hurt her rapport with her gaggle of teen volunteers. “I was wondering if you reconsidered my proposal?”
She cocks her head, shooting daggers with her glare.
“About getting the teen volunteers to scrub down the gym floors. I could also use help scraping gum off the bottom of the tables and chairs in storage.” I continue waiting for her to catch on. “Should take about four hours if everyone works their asses off. I mean, that’s if you don’t have them doing something else?”
Bingo. Her brows rise just the slightest, and it must take everything for her not to smile. “Oh, I don’t know.” She turns her attention back to her group, meeting each of their worried stares. Both Hunter and Tyler step back, returning to their seats. “We were in the middle of an environmental letter writing campaign, but I think maybe a few would rather do something else.” She directs her stare to the kids who not ten minutes ago were begging to quit. Ironically, they’ve all turned their attention and pencils to the sheets of paper before them. Even Tyler and Hunter stop glaring at each other and sit back down.
“No? Okay, then.” Alicia smiles at me. “I’m sorry, it looks like we don’t have anyone to spare this afternoon. Gum scraping is all you.”
I chuckle and shake my head. She’s way too happy about that. “Damn. Well, if anything changes or any of these kids give you a hard time, you know where to send them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I strut away with a grin still tugging at my lips. I feel good about helping her earn a few brownie points with her teenagers. Who knows, maybe she’ll stop seeing me as a total pain in her ass? Maybe we could even be friends. At that idea I actually laugh out loud. All right, so that’s a stretch, but getting her to stop hating my guts sure feels like a step in the right direction.
24
Alicia
Chase is freaking brilliant. Not that I’ll ever tell him so, but the little gum scraping diversion keeps my group focused and on task for the next hour. There are no complaints or whining. No more posturing or fighting between the boys, either. My teens have transformed into little letter-writing angels. Apparently, the threat of custodial work is enough to fuel their motivation. All because of Chase. Seriously, I could hug him. Not that I will.
Leading this teen group is harder than I imagined. They’re good kids—at least most of them are, but I kind of forgot how defiant this age group is by nature. Not that I’m complaining. This position is preparing me in ways I can’t imagine. I just wish I had more tools for relating and earning their trust.
“Hey, Tyler? Can we talk in the hall a minute?” I need to address the earlier encounter, but also don’t want to embarrass him.
A few kids murmur to each other, but as soon as they catch my gaze they go back to their work. Bailey watches Tyler until he’s out the door with me, all while Hunter’s gaze is stuck on her. You’ve got to love a teenage love triangle. I’m sure that’s what this was all about. I stand so I can still keep an eye on the classroom but far enough no one overhears.
“Hey, Miss Martin.” Tyler doesn’t quite meet my gaze. “What’s up?”
“I just want to say how much I appreciate all your effort today and last week.”
His gaze snaps up, clearly surprised.
“What Hunter said in there was both inappropriate and rude.” I wish I could leave it at that, because inside I am so proud of Tyler for sticking up for himself. Hunter totally deserved to be taken down a peg, only I can’t take that position because we have a code of conduct. “But, you can’t tell someone to F-off while volunteering in this program, no matter how much that someone might provoke you.”
His brow furrows, his gaze dropping to the space between us and he kicks at the floor. “I know.” He almost turns in on himself. “But he’s a jerk.”
He really is.
“I am going to talk to Hunter.”
Tyler
’s jaw locks as he meets my gaze. “Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, a fierceness to his tone. “I can handle myself.”
“That’s not why I’m going to talk to him. He also broke the same code of conduct you did. The one everyone inside that room agreed to when they were accepted into this program. I know relationships can be complicated, but it’s important we keep a high level of respect or it’s not a safe space for anyone.”
“Right,” he says, but it’s full of disbelief. I hate that he’s picked on by his peers. High school is hard enough. If everyone could just be kinder, life wouldn’t hurt so damn much. “Can I go back to my letter now?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “But if you ever need to talk, or have problems with another person on our team, please know my door is always open.”
He mutters a thanks and walks back inside, shoulders low and head bowed.
The moment Hunter sees him coming, he leans over to whisper something to Bailey, making her laugh. God, he’s such an ass. And here I thought Callum was going to be my problem child.
“Hunter!” I say a little too sharply. “Can I see you, please?”
“Sure. Yeah.” His smile is all good-natured, as if calling him over does nothing to dim his confidence. Maybe it doesn’t. Or maybe he’s perfected a mask of the “cool” indifference he needs to play. It’s that possibility that cools my irritation toward him.
“How are you liking the volunteer program this summer?”
He blinks as if my question throws him off, but his surprise only lasts a second. “It’s all right.”
“We really value your work and input.”
He beams.
I erase his smile with my next words. “Which is why I’m disappointed to see how you address some of your fellow team members.”
“He called me stupid!” Hunter’s jaw tightens. “I’m not stupid.”
I get it now. Both of these boys have found the other’s weak spot. But instead of building each other up, they’ve exploited their vulnerabilities. “Name calling or physical intimidation will not be tolerated.” I channel my most serious tone. One I imagine mothers across the world using to put fear into their children. “You do that again in front of me or anyone else here at the center and you’re gone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods, his mouth pressed into a somber line. He swallows hard, his eyes wide with alarm. “Sorry, please give me another chance. I can’t—I need this.” He doesn’t quite finish his thought. “I promise, it won’t happen again.” He appears authentic in his apology. Almost desperate to be here. I hope he is. Not just because I don’t want to discipline him further, but because I want him to be better. It’s clear to me he’s capable of much more.
“Thank you, Hunter. Head back in and finish that letter.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He dips his chin and then strolls back into the room, but his cool smile is back in place before he crosses the threshold. He’s a pro at playing to social expectations, and doesn’t give anyone a reason to doubt he’s all confidence and swagger. I don’t quite buy it. In fact, as I watch him settle into his seat, I see a kid who’s so good at being someone else, he probably doesn’t even know who he is. Basically, he’s me eight years ago.
25
Chase
As the rest of the week passes, so does a growing comradery with Alicia. I wouldn’t call us friends, per se, but gone is the animosity. To stay in her good graces, I do whatever she asks without complaint. As a reward, my tasks become less vindictive. At least, that’s how it seems. Sometimes we end up at the same AA meeting and instead of greeting me with a scowl, she smiles. I don’t push my luck by asking to sit by her. It’s enough to watch her across the room. By Friday, she even laughs at one of my jokes. A miracle really because last I checked, Hell hadn’t frozen over.
I might not buy into the entire AA thing, but she’s a completely different person than the woman I knew in Richmond. I can’t help but wonder if this recovery program’s played an essential part in her transformation. There’s a settled assurance about her that radiates the kind of peace I long for. Being around her gives me hope. Because if Alicia can be this happy, maybe my future isn’t completely torched.
“Hey, Chase?” Alicia leans into the doorway of one of the center’s empty meeting rooms late in the afternoon.
“Yeah?” I glance up from the table I’m repairing. A few of the chairs and desks in the center wobble, nothing a tightening of a few screws and bolts won’t fix.
“I need a favor.”
I set down my tools and slide out from beneath the table. “I’m your man.” I wink and push to my feet, unable to help myself when it comes to getting a reaction out of her.
She rolls her eyes, but the subtle hint of a grin teases her lips. “There’s a game of sand volleyball going down tonight. Adults verses teens, if you’re interested.”
I don’t even hesitate. “Count me in.”
She cocks her hip and lifts her brows in challenge. “Do you even play?”
“Do I?” Scoffing, I puff out my chest. “Have a little faith.”
“Don’t let me down, Matthews. I need a win.”
“Oh, I get to be on your team?” I grin, not able to fight the smile taking over my face.
“Only because age is based on physical years and not psychological development.”
“That stings a little.” I press a hand to my chest, then cock my head to the side. “And I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t talk to seniors like that.”
A laugh escapes her lips. “You’re not that old.”
Seven years separate us, but even I’d pick her as the more responsible.
“Okay, then. Don’t be late. Games start at five.” She backs out, pointing in my direction and raising her brows in challenge. “You know where the courts are?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “You had me rake the cat shit out of them last week.”
“Right.” She crinkles her nose and it’s the most adorable thing. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
I bite back my grin. “I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”
She turns to leave, her hips swaying with each purposeful step. I watch her ass, same as I have before, but there’s an unfamiliar tug in my chest. Sure, she’s got a banging bod that does all sorts of things for my fantasies, but it’s not the possibility of sex that has me thirsting. It’s her open smile, the one she doesn’t give to just anyone. It’s the sound of her laugh when something strikes her as funny. It’s the way she looks at me as if I’m not a complete waste of space. That maybe I’m good for more than just a quick fuck. That maybe I’m capable of more. I don’t know what to do with these feelings. They’re uncharted, thrilling, and more addicting than anything I’ve allowed myself to feel in years. But I want more.
“Game point!” Charlie shouts, tossing the ball up in the air and smacking it across the net with a powerful upper hand serve.
Alicia failed to mention the importance of tonight’s win when she invited me earlier. We aren’t merely playing for bragging rights. The losing team also foots the bill for celebratory burgers after. I don’t know about everyone else’s financial status, but I’m close to broke. The idea of having to feed a bunch of teenagers sends my wallet into a panic. I’m giving my all to win this.
The other team returns, the ball shooting back over the net within my reach. “Got it!” I shout and bump it up in the air. It’s a beautiful assist. “That’s you!”
Alicia runs under the falling ball and pops it over the net, in turn giving the perfect set up for our opposing team to spike it back over. Damn it!
I start running as Hunter jumps up to smack the ball, then dive to my knees when I realize I’m not quite where I need to be. Sand digs into my skin. The soft leather of the ball smacks against my forearms and goes flying behind me—hopefully not too far. My chest heaves and my pulse is racing, but a grin tugs at my lips. This is fun.
Charlie calls the ball and races across the sand, reaching the ball just in t
ime to send it sailing back over the net.
No one calls it and by the time it’s falling toward the ground, it’s too late for Hunter to pick up his team’s slack.
“That’s game!” someone shouts from the sidelines, and the adults cheer as the teens groan and grumble at their defeat.
“Yes! Good game.” I turn to give each of my teammates a high five. “You’ve got some mad skills. Couldn’t have won without your killer serves,” I say to Charlie.
“Thanks.” Charlie smiles. “We would’ve given up a point if you didn’t get that save.”
“What?” Alicia saunters over and I try not to notice how damn good she looks in her T-shirt and shorts. “You don’t think I could’ve picked up the slack?”
“I don’t think you like to get dirty.” Charlie’s brows lift with their smile, eyeing both Alicia’s sand-free knees and then the dirt I’m covered in.
Alicia’s jaw falls open and she scoffs. But her lips transform into a smile and a laugh bursts from her mouth. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“Are we really going to make them buy us dinner?”
“Hell, yeah! A bet’s a bet!” she says loudly, then lowers her voice and leans in conspiratorially. “Don’t feel too bad. It’s dollar burger night at the fast food joint down the street. You’ll probably leave starving and with a bad case of heartburn.”
I chuckle and notice a few of the teens watching us with interest, probably concocting a plan to get out of buying burgers or looking for gossip fodder. As soon as I catch their stare and raise my brows, their gazes dart away. I try not to laugh. No doubt they’re embarrassed by their snooping. Only they have no reason to be. There’s nothing happening between Alicia and me, and if there were I wouldn’t fuck it up by making a move in front of her volunteer group.
