12

Distractions

“You don’t get back until Sunday?”

“Monday afternoon,” I clarified.

I closed the locker, and Riley followed me through the school’s back doors. On Fridays, cheerleaders wore their uniforms to school. The bells on her shoes clinked with each step, drawing attention as we crossed the parking lot.

“And is this only a football thing, or do the pair of you plan on hanging out alone?” she asked. I gave her the side-eye, and she grinned. “Just wondering,” she said. “Things haven’t been the same since the two of you disappeared during hide-and-go-seek. You seemed pretty friendly the other night.”

“Nothing’s changed,” I said. I stopped at my car and tossed my backpack in the trunk. When I turned, Riley was wide eyed.

“Do you seriously think I haven’t noticed you two sneaking time away?” she asked.

“What time?”

“Um, lunch.”

My cheeks heated. Okay. Fair enough. “I had to print out more scholarship applications,” I said. “Case broke the printer at home, and I wanted to work on them during the plane ride tomorrow.”

“Right, because printing out applications is the same as sneaking out here and chatting in Adam’s truck,” she said. I paused and darted a glance around the parking lot. “The sun’s more likely to crash into the earth than Adam is to give up half a cheeseburger. If you don’t want people to know what’s going on, be more careful. That piece of info was courtesy of a member of the cheer squad who asked me if you two were dating.”

“Someone asked you about us?”

She nodded.

I cringed and continued walking. Adam and I weren’t official, but we were kind of committed. I don’t know. It was a big mess that needed to be sorted sooner rather than later. Adding nosy people to the mix wouldn’t help.

“I’d bet money you come back as a couple,” Riley said. “Watch.”

“Who’s a couple?” Tate asked, meeting us as we passed through senior parking. He wore his game day attire and a duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Her and Adam,” Riley told him.

Tate glanced at me and shrugged. “Not getting involved. Adam’s my bro, but his personal life is his thing.”

“What a great way of thinking,” I remarked.

Riley deflated. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Tate.”

“I am on your side.” He kissed her cheek and pivoted. “Just because I don’t meddle doesn’t mean you can’t. One of us has to get the info.”

He waved good-bye and jogged to the field house. Guys were already filing onto the bus. Their conversations drifted through open bus windows into the cool afternoon. I didn’t catch Adam’s voice, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t on board.

“Just know I support you as a pair,” Riley said, “and if he’s a jerk to you in any way, call me. I’ll take a pair of fingernail clippers to his hair. He likes his hair. It’s the quickest way to inflict pain.”

“Noted.”

I waved at her and walked to the bus.

Adam sat in the seat behind the driver. His mouth was twisted as he quietly scanned a page of x’s and o’s.

“This seat taken?” I asked, stopping beside him.

“I’m actually waiting on the water girl,” he said. “Pretty sure she stood me up, but you’re a good alternative.” I arched a brow, and he shifted to let me in. “Okay fine, but don’t tell her I let you sit with me. Her dad’s the coach.”

“Yikes. Heard you run sprints if you piss him off.”

“Crap. Maybe you should find another seat.”

I elbowed him in the side, and he chuckled, returning to the playbook. A few minutes later, my dad boarded, and the bus pulled away from the school.

Through the window, trees passed in blurs of green and gold. The leaves had changed within the last week, carrying the onset of autumn and cooler weather.

I relaxed into the seat and leaned against the window. Acoustic music played through my earbuds, drowning all other noise until it was halted by the ping of a text message.

I glanced at the screen, annoyed as I read the text.

Seth: What are you doing?

I deleted the text.

Seth: We aren’t talking anymore?

Adam shifted beside me, his arm warm through his button-down. He tucked the playbook into my dad’s briefcase, and I removed my earbuds. My phone buzzed, but I put it under my leg to muffle the sound.

“You excited about tomorrow?” he asked, poking my Auburn bracelet.

“Yeah. Excited, but nervous.”

“I get it,” he answered. “College prospects are awesome, and I’m glad I have them, but it’ll be weird moving out of my grandma’s house. Been with her since I was twelve. Don’t know how she’ll function without me.”

“Think you’ll go as far as Alabama?” I asked. “Or leaning toward staying closer to home?”

“Anything is possible, Collins.”

“Sounds like your way of avoiding an answer.”

“Ask me after we visit Auburn,” he said, chuckling.

“Okay. I will.”

*   *   *

“I’m so tired,” Adam groaned.

“Same.”

I smudged mascara from beneath my eyes and stared at my dad. He was just as exhausted as everyone else, but it was his fault. Who schedules a flight at six a.m. on a Saturday?

“Didn’t work,” he said, staring at the tickets as he approached us. “Tried to get our seats switched so we’re all beside each other, but the plane is full. Right now, we have two seats at the front and one in the middle of the plane. If you want, the pair of you can take the seats at the front.”

“I want the window seat,” I said, looking at Adam.

“That’s fine. I need an aisle seat anyway. If not, I’ll be stiff when we get there.”

“Great,” my dad said, handing us tickets before heading to security.

“Have I told you how awesome your dad is?” Adam asked, watching him as he left. “Because he’s seriously one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”

“Remember that when he starts singing Broadway songs,” I replied. “Nothing on this planet can save you from a Mark Collins cover.”

Charlotte International was crowded. I expected a handful of people, but the security line was already twenty deep. I got in line in front of Adam and waited my turn. When I was up, I placed my polka-dot carry-on on the conveyor, slid off my ankle boots, and tossed my jewelry into a plastic bin beside them. Two seconds later, I was through to the other side.

Adam was next, but the metal detector beeped on his first step through.

“You broke it,” I said. “Way to go.”

He frowned at me and took a step back, waiting for permission before he tried to pass through again. When he set off the metal detector a second time, one of the TSA agents came over. Adam stared at him, brow furrowed.

“Any metal objects?” the agent said.

“No, sir,” Adam replied. “I had hand surgery when I was younger. There’s a permanent set of screws in my left hand and a rod in my wrist, but I didn’t think it would set off the detector.”

“Medical ID card?” the guy questioned.

“No, sir.”

“Ever flown before?”

“No, sir.”

“If you’re flying, you need to get one.”

The agent escorted Adam to another area as my dad passed through the detector. “Meade’s having a hard time,” he said, pulling his shoes from the conveyor. “Can you wait here for him? I want to check the gate and make sure our plane isn’t delayed.”

“Yeah. We’ll meet you at the gate.”

I put my ring on, slid the bracelet over my wrist, and put on my boots. When Adam finally made it through, he grabbed his stuff and took a seat beside me.

“Didn’t know you had hand surgery when you were younger,” I said. “Was it football related?”

“It’s a long story,” he replied. He tied his shoes, stood, and lifted his shirt to put his belt on. The scar I saw at the lake showed above his waistband, long and jagged against tanned skin. “Where’s your dad?” he asked.

“He went to check the flight status.”

Adam nodded and grabbed my duffel from the floor. Once both of our bags were slung over his shoulder, he extended his hand. “I need coffee,” he said. “You up for some?”

“Absolutely.”

We located the closest Starbucks and sipped it while we waited to board.

“Riley talk to you about the bet?” he asked, glancing at me over his cup.

I cringed. “Please tell me she didn’t bring that up.”

“She did,” he said. “There’s about fifty bucks involved. Twenty from her, betting we’ll get together, twenty from Tate betting we won’t, and ten from me saying we will but it won’t last.”

“Lovely,” I answered, shaking my head.

“My thoughts are we get together, then break up, so I win,” Adam explained. “We can take the money and split it. What do you say?”

“That’s brilliant!” I replied.

He chuckled and finished his coffee, flagging my dad over as he returned to the gate.

Fifteen minutes later, we were passing through an enclosed tunnel. When we reached our seats, the plane was already half full. Adam volunteered to put the bags in the overhead compartment.

“Push harder,” I said, feigning a smile at the grumpy old people waiting to get by. Adam glared at me over his shoulder. “Please.”

“You want to do it?” he replied.

He shifted his body so he was more in the seat. It allowed the older people room to get by. They grumbled at him as they passed through the little space available.

“Blame this one,” he said. “She had to pack thirty pairs of shoes. I told her she only needed one pair, but she’s so stubborn and refuses to listen to—”

My elbow connected with his abs, and he sucked in a breath.

“Oops,” I said.

“You’ll be saying oops when I tell the flight attendant you’re being violent,” Adam replied. He shifted back into the aisle and tried the bag again. With one hard push, he crammed it into the tiny space. “Victory!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

He dropped into the seat beside me. With people still filing through the plane’s open doors, he had no choice but to keep his long legs between our seat and the one in front of us. His knees were almost to his chest.

“Need more room?” I said, smiling.

“That’s an understatement.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket as Wanda’s name lit up the screen. Rather than reading the text over his shoulder, I looked out the window.

Outside, darkness was starting to give way to the morning. Hues of orange and gold streaked across the horizon, fading away the stars. I was still focused on the sunrise when the plane started to pull away from the gate. Adam leaned over my lap, his voice a distraction from the view outside.

“This is where they come out, right?” he asked.

I blinked at him, confused.

“The air mask things,” he said. “Do they drop from here? Also, do they automatically help you breathe or is there more?” The plane stopped, and his attention darted to the window. “Why did we stop? Is there something wrong?”

“There’s a flight in front of us that hasn’t left yet,” I answered. “We have to wait our turn.”

“Right. I knew that.”

“Sure you did.” I surveyed him and saw the tension in his jaw and the stiffness in his demeanor. “Forgot to mention this was your first time flying? Scared?”

“Ha. You wish.”

He leaned across me, smelling of body wash and laundry detergent. He was a blanket of warmth, and his forearms rested against the top of my thighs as his eyes swept the sky.

His breathing grew rapid as the plane began to move again, readying for takeoff.

“How fast is this going to go?” he whispered. “Is it zero to sixty or is it a slow increase?”

The plane increased its speed and raced down the runway. Adam’s eyes shut as he released a shaky exhale.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I can’t do this.”

“Thought you said you weren’t scared.”

“I lied.”

His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and his grip was so tight on the armrest I was afraid it would crack.

I rested my hand against the top of his knuckles. “Give me your hand,” I said. “We’ll be in the air in a matter of seconds. Outside of the landing, takeoff is the hardest part.” His fingers wrapped around the top of my hand, shaking and sweaty against my skin. “Good. Now ask me a question. It can be whatever you want, just nothing super personal.”

“W-why?” he stammered.

“Just do it.”

The plane shook a little, and Adam exhaled sharply. “Why do you want to go to Auburn?” he asked. “Is there a reason, or is it just a school you picked?”

I hesitated. There was more than one answer to that question. “My grandpa was a fan,” I said after a moment. “He introduced me to Auburn when I was eight. I’ve wanted to go ever since.”

“Did he graduate from there?”

“No. He grew up outside Tuscaloosa and was raised on Alabama. If he would’ve gone anywhere, it probably would’ve been there.”

“Then why did he like Auburn?”

I shrugged. “During his rebellious phase, he decided to switch football allegiance to their biggest rival—Auburn.”

“He became an Auburn fan just to irritate his family?” When I nodded, Adam chuckled. “Sounds like a pretty headstrong guy.”

“He was.”

The rubber Auburn bracelet sat flush against my skin. The second reason, while less significant, hung over my head like a ton of bricks. I considered telling Adam, but the flight attendant announced use of all approved electronic devices. He quickly pulled a set of earbuds from his pocket, and hit the music app.

“You working on scholarship stuff?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He started his music, and I reached for my tote. There was more to the Auburn story, but I’d lost the opportunity to come clean. I’d let the moment slip away, knowing the truth would eat away at me.

I glanced at Adam again, and my stomach knotted. Maybe it was easier this way. If we didn’t work, I’d never have to tell him at all.

“Claire?”

“Yeah?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

“Thanks for distracting me.”

“Anytime.”