Blue Love : Blue Valley High — Senior Year

by Mj Fields

  “I don’t know,” he answers.

  I shake my head. “Well, when you figure it out, let me know.”

  Then I walk away.

  After saying goodnight to the kids, and still wanting to run down to the falls, I decide not to be an idiot, because it’s dark, and going alone in the dark would be almost as bad as going with someone. I call it my spot, so everyone knows not to bother me there.

  I walk into the bathroom and grab the first sweatshirt I see off the top of the laundry basket, pull it on, knowing it’s his, that it wasn’t washed after my five-mile hike and that it still smells like him.

  I walk out through the living room and step out on the deck, sit in one of the chairs, and pull the sweatshirt up and over my knees. Inhaling his scent, I wonder if he’d consume so much of my mind, my feelings, if he wasn’t so ridiculously hot. I mean, what if I dated just a regular boy, even a cute one? Would it be like this?

  Jesus, what is wrong with me? If I keep on like this, will I be shoving panties in his locker like the rest of the girls?

  After a few more minutes of shaming myself, the door opens and Alex steps out. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Just sitting.”

  “What’s up with you and Lucas?” He sits on the chair next to mine. “He played like shit at practice today, got yelled at by the coach.”

  “The coach yelled at him for having an off day?”

  “Yep.” He nods. “So, what’s going on?”

  “He makes my head spin. I act horribly around him. I’m confused, that’s all,” I confess.

  “Do you think you’re falling in love with him?”

  “I don’t know.” I laugh at the thought. “I can’t get enough of him, or I’m furious at him. There doesn’t seem to be an in-between. It scares me.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I think you should.” He stands and smiles. “Preferably before our game on Saturday.” He sets the phone next to me. “This is making me crazy. Just answer when he calls.”

  “I left it off the hook last night.”

  “And I found it and turned it on. Still a business phone, Tessa, even without a cord.”

  As soon as he walks off, the cordless rings, and I force myself to wait until it has rung twice.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry, Tessa, for all of it, not just one thing.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Are we okay then?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. This is crazy for me and—”

  “We work things out better when we talk face to face, even better knee to knee. I want to come see you now, to talk, to—”

  “I have a busy day tomorrow, and I need to stay focused. I want this to slow down. It’s all moving crazy fast.”

  “I don’t want it to, Tessa. I need you to—”

  “And I need to slow down. If we’re going to work, it needs to slow down.”

  “Goodnight, Tessa Ross.”

  “Goodnight, Lucas Links.”

  My chest is tight, my body tense, and tears are building behind my eyes, because his voice sounded … tortured.

  I hit the on button and dial his number. Unlike me, he answers on the first ring.

  “Tessa?”

  “I forgot to tell you sweet dreams.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. So, goodnight, Lucas. Sweet dreams.”

  I get to school early because I need to see who wins the battle. The warriors on the left side of the battlefield, Team Lucas. The side who cracked last night at the tiniest bit of vulnerability he showed, and at the thought of hurting him, picked up the phone and dialed him immediately. On the right, Team Self-Respect, and a side of me that was more sensible and believed taking a break was a good idea and wanted to see if he would respect my request, which then the name could be changed to Team Tessa, and somehow, I believe that would level the battleground.

  Team Self-Respect, now renamed Team Tessa, won, and that makes me happy and sad all at the same time.

  Fourth period is our first class together today, and when I walk into class alone, it doesn’t go unnoticed. The whispers began.

  When he and Tommy walk in, he walks past me from behind and gives my ponytail a tug. “Looking good, Tessa Ross.”

  The whispers immediately quiet.

  Phoebe giggles from her seat next to me. “I’m seriously going to start keeping a running list of all the passengers on the gossip train. I should make one column of haters and the other hopefuls.”

  The whispers then stop altogether.

  “Have I told you yet that I love you?” I ask her.

  Smiling, she shakes her head.

  “Well, I do.”

  “Aw …”

  The first note of today reads,

  Good morning baby,

  You look gorgeous today.

  Lucas

  And I read it several times, over and over again.

  I spend lunch in the library again, because if he can give me space when I ask for it, I need to be strong enough to stay away. That and I need to get my homework done and study for a test, and I won’t be studying tonight, not after the game.

  After school, as we walk out to load onto the bus, the football team is outside, and Lucas stands, arms across his chest, scowling. The look he is sporting hurts more than I wish to admit.

  I jog up to him and watch his eyes turn from pine to fern.

  “Wish me luck?”

  He reaches out, grabs my hip, and pulls me into a hug. “Good luck, baby.”

  Before I fall into his warmth, his hug …. him, I step back and wave.

  “Wish I could be there today, Tessa. Win, okay?” Alex yells.

  “Of course.” I laugh then head back to the bus.

  I climb over Phoebe to get to the window and hold my hand against the glass as Lucas mouths, “Thank you.”

  As afraid of my own feelings as I am, I can’t help but feel like he is supposed to be mine … for now.

  “You look like you feel better,” Jade says.

  “I feel better. Ready to braid Phoebe’s hair and then kick ass.”

  When Coach V told Phoebe she was starting, she immediately lost all the pink in her cheeks. I understood, it being her first game and all, but Coach V starting her is because she has skill and heart.

  She’s now rocking French braids, one on each side, and two little pigtails. She was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it. Little did she know I made poor Jake let me practice on his hair a couple years ago, so I can braid pretty much anything.

  Now in the home team’s locker room, Jade breaks out the blue and white ribbons to tie at the ends of our braids. Something catches her eye, though, and she drops the ribbon a good foot from my hand. I catch it before it hits the locker room floor.

  “Hey, Katie.” Jade waves.

  I look to where she’s waving and see the redhead, the same redhead who was a complete and total bitch at the last football game.

  “Katie?” I ask, tying the ribbon to one of the two braids in Phoebe’s hair.

  Some girls from the opposing team begin whispering and laughing mockingly toward us. Jade looks at them and rolls her eyes.

  Kate raises her eyebrow, looks Jade up and down, turns, and then walks away.

  “And how do you know her?” I ask.

  “She’s Tommy’s ex. You met her on Saturday night. You may not remember her. Anyway, she was really nice, so either that was an act or she’s just super competitive. I’m gonna go with an act … final answer.”

  We all agree.

  “Well, now we have to serve them girls in a bowl with a spoon.” Phoebe, bless her heart, tries acting badass.

  After we’re all ribboned up, we head out to the field.

  On the way, a group of girls approach us.

  “Hey, are you two dating Lucas and Tommy?” a girl with more of a yellowish-blonde color hair asks.

  “Yes. Why?” I ask.

  �
��How long?” a different blonde, this one more on the strawberry-blonde, asks.

  “A few weeks. But I’m not sure it’s any of your business.” I look her up and down as she does me.

  “Been there.” The first blonde smirks.

  “Done that,” the other chimes in.

  “Three of us on the team have. Good luck.”

  The other rolls her eyes, and they all turn on their cleats and walk away.

  “Why is it that skanky bitches want to tell people when they have been used up?” Phoebe yells at their backs.

  When they don’t reply, she shrugs and raises her stick, like a sword, and laughs. “Let’s take it to the field.”

  Just my luck, I end up covering the yellowish-blonde, Blonde Number One.

  “Has he shown you the trick with his tongue yet?” she asks me.

  The ball is coming toward us, and I dart past her, running down the field, dodging players while dribbling the ball.

  Kate is goalie, and well, she obviously sucks because I score without issue.

  “Oh, apparently not.” Blondie Number One brushes against me as she gets back to position. “Full of frustration, huh?”

  Again, the ball comes in my direction, and as I’m ready to hit it, Blonde One purposely hip checks me. A whistle is blown, and she’s given a green card by the umpire. Fortunately, I’m able to pass to Becca, who has possession and almost makes the second goal.

  The rest of the period goes the same way—Becca and I have the ball most of the time, yet neither scores. Phoebe is playing middy and has managed to stop almost all the back shots from being received by the opposing team, and Jade is bored out of her mind in the goal.

  The first period ends, one to zip.

  As we take the field, Jade yells, “Tessa, look who’s here to see us.”

  I turn and see two white hats coming our way. I give him a smile, and Lucas gives me a wink.

  I watch as the three blondes look up at him, gushing, and now I’m going to be distracted.

  “Head in the game, T. Ross,” Phoebe yells, bringing me right back to focus.

  Blonde Number One smiles as we wait for the whistle to start the second period. “So, is he here to see you, or one of us?”

  I ignore her and somehow manage to score another goal.

  The next play starts. Blonde One has the ball, but I quickly close her down.

  “Bitch,” she yells.

  “Good at it,” I snap back, scooping the ball past her and hitting it to Phoebe.

  “Madison,” someone yells from the sidelines, and Blonde One turns to look. Now I have a name.

  While she’s distracted, I get the ball, and then she trips me with her stick and I fall hard, so hard that the wind is knocked out of me.

  A whistle blows, and the game is stopped.

  “Are you okay?” Phoebe asks, rushing toward me and holding out her hand to help me up.

  Standing, I watch as the ump issues Madison a yellow card and sends her to the sin box.

  “So worth it!” Madison yells.

  “Tessa,” Coach V calls me over, and the first step on my ankle, I cringe. “We need to fix that.”

  Panting, I sit on the bench. “Wrap it. I want to go back out there.”

  Coach shakes his head. “I think you should—”

  “I’m good,” I say, glaring at the bitch in the box, but she’s looking toward Lucas, and he’s looking at me.

  Once my ankle is wrapped, I hop up, ignoring the pain, and smile at him as I take the field.

  He shakes his head and adjusts his hat.

  Once in position, I look up again at Lucas and see him watching me with disapproving, narrowed eyes. Looking away from him, I see Blonde Two running up to take Blonde One’s recently vacated position, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You and I paired up. Your coach raffling off this position?”

  She glares at me.

  Still laughing, I ask, “Are you as nasty as Blonde One?”

  “Worse.”

  “Perfect.” I beckon her with my hand and goad, “Bring it.”

  The whistle sounds, the ball is passed, and not by my team, but by the opposing team. I snag it right away.

  Whack! Another stick to the ankle, and I am on the ground.

  Two seconds later, I’m joined by Blonde Two because Phoebe absolutely had my back.

  “You okay?” she asks, pulling me up.

  “I will be.” I nod, knowing damn well I’m going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears off, because Blonde Two hit me in the same fucking spot!

  Phoebe is carded.

  “So not worth it, Phoebe!” Jade yells down the field.

  Phoebe holds up her card and laughs as she walks to the box to join Blonde Two. “I beg to differ.”

  I set up for my penalty shot. “This one’s Jade’s.”

  I hit it in the goal without issue, smiling, even though I am in some serious pain, as I walk away.

  “T. Ross! Get in here!” Coach V yells.

  When I see Blonde Three replacing her, I can’t do anything but laugh.

  “I’ve got this, Coach.”

  Standing in front of her, I ask, even though I already know the answer, “Are you as crazy as the other two?”

  Blonde Three sneers.

  “Don’t hold back now, you hear?”

  “Tessa,” Lucas yells from the sidelines. “Enough! Get your ass in here.”

  I shake my head as I watch the ball coming toward me.

  When Blonde Three swings, and not at the ball, I jump over her stick, clearing it and nab the ball.

  Hustling down the field, I feel a stick to my back, and it fucking hurts, but I do not relent.

  When the horn sounds, I throw my stick on the ground, set to go after her. When a sharp pain shoots up my leg, I fall to the ground and am so pissed at the cry I allow to escape.

  Arms come around me and lift me up, strong arms … Lucas’s arms.

  “Put me down, Lucas, please,” I whisper. “I want to walk off the field.”

  Walking—er, limping—toward the bench, Coach V yells, “T. Ross, next time I tell you to come off the field, you better damn well listen to me.”

  “Yes, sir.” I force a smile through the pain and sit on the bench. “But check out the score. We kicked their butts.”

  “Yeah, we did.” He lifts my leg onto the bench. “That has got to hurt.” He quickly grabs an icepack and sets it on my leg. “Let me see that back.”

  I glance up and notice Lucas, looking aggravated.

  It’s obvious that he doesn’t like Coach V lifting my shirt.

  “Seriously?” I shake my head, and he looks away, lower lip popping out in a pout.

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch!” I suck in a breath through my teeth as Coach V touches what is probably a nasty bruise.

  “Are you fucking kidding me!” Lucas sneers as he looks at my back. “Those bitches.”

  “Links, you mind your mouth, you got it?” Coach V points a finger at him.

  “You sure know how to pick them, Lucas.” I force a laugh.

  “Those ex-girlfriends, Links?” Coach snaps.

  “Sort of.” He looks away.

  “Any others we need to know about for the rest of the season?” Coach asks.

  “Several, I’m sure. I’ve already met four of them, and they’ve all touched me in some way.” I hold a hand over my heart mockingly.

  “Links, are they all field hockey players?” Coach asks.

  “I don’t think so. They were mostly cheerleaders.” Lucas scowls at the ground.

  “They still should be. Clearly, they’re not hockey players. I mean, again, look at that score.”

  “All right, Tessa.” Coach V shakes his head. “I’m not going to kid you; this is going to hurt like crazy tomorrow. If it gets red and puffy, I want you to go to the emergency room. Links, can you see that Miss Ross gets to the bus without getting jumped by your fan club?”

 
; “I’ll drive her home,” Lucas states.

  “Not happening.” Coach V walks away. “Get her to the bus.”

  I shrug. “The bus it is. I’m really not fond of your driving, anyway.”

  When I look up, I see a green storm of wild and angry brewing in his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Tessa. I can’t believe they—”

  “Lucas Links, you didn’t hurt me; they did.” I nod toward the three girls still sitting on the bench getting their asses chewed out by their coach, rightfully so. “I’m still pissed at you about the other day, but not about this.” I reach up and grab his hand to get his attention. I nod to the bench, and he swings one leg over it and sits. “So, this will definitely not be for us; it’ll be for them. Kiss me, please.”

  Lucas swings his other leg over, scoops me up, and cradles me in his arms. Then he kisses me sweetly.

  I grab his face, tracing the tight muscles of his still clenched jaw, and kiss him harder. Tracing my tongue across the seams of his lips, I coax them open, and then I rub my tongue up and down his.

  Cinnamon and spice. Absolutely delicious.

  When I feel I need a breath, I pull my lips away and lay my forehead against his chest.

  Cupping the back of my head, he places a gentle kiss to the top then runs his hand down my back.

  I immediately wince, and his hand falls away.

  “Baby, I’m sorry,” he whispers as if he, too, is in pain.

  When I feel a slight and knowing hardening beneath me, I ask in a joking manner, “Is that for them, too?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he says, “Never again, Tessa. This is all for you.” He chuckles darkly. “Sorry about the shit timing.”

  Feeling my eyes getting heavy and, even in pain, my core begins to heat.

  Embarrassed by what now seems like my natural reaction to Lucas, I whisper, “I think I should get to the bus.”

  He looks down. “Can we wait a couple minutes? And maybe you should get off my lap. That may help the, uh, issue.”