Chapter Fourteen

Avery couldn’t understand what her mother was saying. She sounded like she was underwater. A familiar feeling of dread poked at her belly as she strained to understand the words that bubbled out of her mom’s mouth. It was useless, but she tried. Talking back, lip reading…over the past year she’d tried everything.

Tap.

A long fingernail tapped on the table. Avery tried to see what she was pointing at. Come on, Avery…wake up. She knew she was dreaming, it was a familiar dream, but she could never remember how to escape. Wake up!

Tap.

Her mom was tapping her nail loudly on an entry in her planner. Avery strained to see which one, but the letters on the front were as blurred as her mother’s voice.

Tap.

Avery squeezed her eyes shut and pinched herself. Her mother was crying now. She hated this part. She had to wake up. Come on!

Tap.

She jerked upright, eyes wide, and then took a breath in relief. She was awake. She thought. Everything was where it should have been. She was wearing the same T-shirt she’d gone to sleep in, and the abandoned stale muffin she’d attempted to eat the previous night was still on her nightstand.

Tap.

She just about clean jumped out of her skin. It’s okay, Avery. Take a breath. The tapping was coming from the window. If it had been midnight, she’d have been scared shitless, but with the bright morning sunlight hitting the floor and illuminating the dust in her bedroom, she was just curious.

She yanked open her thin curtains. Lucas stood in her front yard, arm aloft as if he were about to throw another…shit. He threw the stone, and instinctively, she ducked. It didn’t break the window, but she opened it to deflect another stone. “Hey!” she hissed.

“Avery!” he whispered back in a voice that could have woken the neighborhood.

She raised her eyebrows, but he said nothing else. She hadn’t been able to sleep for hours after they’d had that moment in the hospital. She’d laid awake tossing and turning, thinking about that long few seconds before the doctor had come in. The moment that had been full of too many thoughts. The moment where she’d basically admitted to both of them that she wanted to kiss him. The moment before she’d kissed him and he’d found out how “vanilla” she was.

“Well?” she said.

His mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. He shrugged. “Sorry?” It was a question.

Avery rolled her eyes. “Wait a minute.” She closed the window and tried to make herself annoyed or difficult to win over after her embarrassment at the hospital. But she couldn’t. She pulled on a pair of cut-off sweat pant shorts and grabbed her toothbrush. She even checked her hair in the mirror, which was something she hadn’t done on a Saturday for a long time. It looked okay—mussed, of course, but her layered bits weren’t sticking up on end, so that was something.

She squeezed some toothpaste on her wet toothbrush and ran down and opened the door, toothbrush already in her mouth. No way was she going to say hello with morning breath. “Hah aw you erring her,” she said with her mouth closed. Crap. She hadn’t really thought this one through.

He frowned. “Uhh?”

She held up a finger and then bolted for the kitchen, where she ran the water and spat out the foam. She shoved the toothbrush into the utensil holder on the counter and ran back out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Apologizing?” he asked as if he wasn’t totally sure. He picked up some Krispy Kreme coffee and a white paper bag from the doorstep.

“Four coffees?”

Lucas peered inside the house. “I didn’t know how many apologies I’d have to make.”

Avery tipped her head on one side and ran through her options. Was he apologizing for kissing her? Or for calling her “sis?” “What are you apologizing for?”

His face fell for a second, and then he grinned. “Well, it’s Saturday morning, and most Saturday mornings I have at least one thing to apologize for. So that, I guess.”

“Not good enough.” She didn’t open the door any farther than it already was.

His face fell. “Okay. I wanted to see you. And… No. That’s it. I just wanted to see you.”

She tried to tamp down the excitement gathering in her belly. “Come in,” she said, taking one of the iced coffee drinks from the tray and sucking up some sweet morning juice. She hated hot coffee, but iced coffee, frappes, anything with sugar and ice was perfect, especially when she didn’t have to go out for it herself.

She nudged him through the swing doors into the kitchen.

He was here, in her own kitchen, with coffee and donuts. And he smelled so good—fresh showers and soap.

“Thank you for taking me to the hospital last night. I’m sorry I gave you shit for it in the car.”

“You’re welcome. What did the doctor say?”

“Well, after threatening me for lying to him about you being my sister, he said I had a mild concussion, and yeah. That’s it.”

“Did your mom come?” she asked, trying to skate right past the implication that he remembered their almost kiss. Some things were better left unsaid and totally forgotten. At least until she could figure stuff out—like why she wanted to kiss him and why it would probably be a huge mistake.

“Yes. The nurse who came in with him was my mom. She wasn’t very happy about everything.”

“Everything?” she asked, trying not to wince.

“Yeah. She said I shoulda avoided the safety. That dick.”

Avery laughed but ducked her head in case the embarrassment and shame she was feeling showed on her face. They weren’t talking about the almost-kiss, and that was fine with her. More than fine. But she couldn’t escape the fact that the reason he’d even wanted to kiss her was because he thought she was a good person, someone helping him out of the kindness of her heart. And she wasn’t. She was helping him because she wanted Lucas to play well enough to help her father.

She sipped some more coffee and sat on the opposite side of the kitchen. “So how long are you benched for?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Depends if your dad lets me play when I haven’t been to practice in a week.” He sat on the chair across the island from her. “I don’t feel bad, though. My headache’s just a dull ache now, but I have to show for a checkup Wednesday, and they’ll tell me when I can practice again.”

As he spoke in the quiet of the kitchen, she recognized his accent was slightly different from hers. She liked it. She liked him. She hadn’t even kissed a boy since Blaine. Oh. Maybe that was why she wanted to kiss him? Just because she hadn’t kissed anyone in ages. And then she looked at him. He was gorgeous. Dark hair, dark eyes, a smile that suggested he knew things that she didn’t—which was so hot she couldn’t even—and a body. An athlete’s body.

Damn. She was being ridiculous. She didn’t know him. All this…yearning was based solely on the way he looked. How shallow was that? Snap out of it, Avery.

“What do you remember about the game last night?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation where she needed it. Football.

He laughed, almost uncomfortably, she thought. “I don’t remember much, to be honest. I think I got spanked pretty badly out there. I listened to some of the aftergame on the radio. At least we won.”

“It helped that the safety who tackled you was ejected from the game, and his replacement couldn’t even keep up with Mac, who, you know, can’t really run.”

She squished her mouth to one side, wondering if she should show him how bad it had been. Or if it would mess with his head seeing himself taken out like that. “I have the play on my phone, if you want to see?”

…

“You videoed me?” he asked, surprised, and…what was the other thing? Surprise and warmth, was it? She’d videoed him playing football. Only his mother had done that before.

“I thought it would help you get fixed,” she replied, instantly deflating every hope he didn’t know that he’d had. “Do you want to see?”

“Sure.”

“Be right back,” she said, flying through the swing door. It swung slow enough that he saw her running up the stairs two at a time.

He grinned. He liked her. He had no earthly reason why, but he liked her. She seemed so open, like she wasn’t afraid of anything. Yet there were obviously things she was scared of. He could see it in her eyes. It was the same look he’d seen in the mirror these past four months or so. But hell, all that aside, he just wanted to touch her so bad. To touch her, to kiss her. What was up with that?

She blew through the kitchen door again, holding her phone aloft. She jumped up so she was sitting on the marble counter and patted the spot next to her.

He hesitated for a second and jumped up beside her, ignoring the throb in his head the sudden movement had produced. She was swiping to get to the right spot. “There.” She handed the phone to him and peered over his shoulder to watch with him. Her chin almost touched his shoulder. If he moved it just a tiny bit, would she jerk away or rest her chin on him? He didn’t want to risk finding out.

On the video, the crowd was chattering as they came out of the huddle, but as soon as the players took their positions, there was silence. He heard Lexi say, “Here we go,” as Colin took possession of the ball.

It was embarrassing at how out of place he’d been for Colin’s throw, but even more so, when freaking Avery said in disbelief, “Oh my God, he caught it.”

He gave her a look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She pressed her lips together and returned her attention to the small screen.

Wow, he was fast. He was back on form again. A small part of him remembered his legs pumping and the entire belief, no certainty, in him that he’d reach the line.

And then the defender hit him. There was a crack as their helmets made contact. It was a totally illegal tackle. He watched as his head snapped back and forth with the impact. Wincing, he looked away. “Okay, I’ve seen enough.”

“It was bad,” she agreed. “What did your mom say?”

“She was a little freaked,” he said slowly. “I’ve never been hit like that before. Speaking of…do you have any Advil I could use? I didn’t bring mine with me.”

“Sure. Let me go find my bag.” She slid off the counter and ran off again, and instantly he felt the lack of her next to him. It was like the sun had gone behind a cloud, and oh my God, I can’t believe I'm thinking in freaking poems. His eyes widened, and he shook his head at himself. What was the matter with him? It must have been the bang on his head. Shit, maybe it had changed him. How could it not have? He slid his finger on her phone to the moment of impact. He played it over and over. Watching his head snap back and forth. A dizziness came over him just watching. Truthfully, the impact scared him a bit. He went to set the phone down where she’d left it but then picked it up again to watch the footage again. He really hadn’t ever been hit that hard before.

At his old school, everyone had protected him; he was the golden one. Someone had always watched his back. The whole team protected him at all costs on the field. Not so much when the game was over, though, as he’d found out.

“You’re going to look for that safety all the time now, aren’t ya?”

He looked up from the phone. She stood leaning against the doorjamb, holding the swing door with her foot. She threw the small bottle of pills at him. “Sorry it took so long. Colin had taken them out of my bag.”

He caught the bottle, thanking God that he didn’t fumble it, popped the cap off, and took two dry, lobbing them into his mouth and tipping his head back.

Avery offered him a sip from her iced coffee, even though there were three sweating cups full of caffeine just a reach away. It felt…intimate. He took the cup, touching her fingers as he did. The kitchen grew smaller as he lowered his mouth onto the straw that had so recently been in her mouth. He sucked down the cold liquid, unable to drop eye contact with this girl he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He had to shake this…crush?…off.

He gave the coffee back. “What did you say?”

“I said I’d found the Advil in—”

“No before that,” he said, making a winding-back gesture with his finger.

She took a sip of her coffee, and something twinged deep in his stomach. A tightening as he watched her lips touch where his had been. Jesus. Christ. Knock it off.

“Oh, I said you were going to start looking for the guy checking you now.” She plopped down on the dining room chair that was obviously excess to needs in the actual dining room, so it sat against the counter, next to the microwave.

She was probably right. The second cardinal rule of receiving was to keep your eye on the ball, though, not the opposing player who was looking to snap your head off with a fucking illegal tackle. Speed was supposed to take care of that player. But yeah.

“That’s why you can’t play again until you’re a hundred percent. If you have any headache, any tension, even any tenderness from your bruises, you’re going to be hyperaware of anyone coming near you. I’ve seen it before. A lot of times. You’ll not make the play because your subconscious is scared. And your subconscious would be right, too, I should say.”

Thinking about it, that was what had happened to Jake Rodder—Henderson High’s QB when Lucas had been a freshman. He’d been sacked so bad he’d broken two ribs just from the weight of a linebacker jumping on him. He flubbed a bunch of passes the games after. He should have taken some time off maybe, and then he wouldn’t have been benched. He blew a breath out. “I never thought about that. I’ve seen it happen, too.”

Not for the first time, he realized that Henderson’s coach hadn’t really “coached” them much at all. He’d taken the top players and just let them play with little guidance. In the past week, it had become clear to him that he didn’t have a good technical foundation to fall back on. And Avery seemed to know more than he did about actually playing football. How was that even possible? How was a coach’s daughter who’d never played, better than a 5A high school head coach?

“I guess I’m just going to have to run faster than the safety then, aren’t I?” he said. He’d have to work on his sprints. Maybe next week he’d be able to run.

“Oh wow. I forgot to say—I don’t think anyone in the crowd had ever in real life seen a wide receiver run as fast as you did last night. Jaws dropped open, I swear.”

He allowed himself a half smile. “I heard about the comments on Brady’s Balls Facebook page. They showed the first part of the play but cut in footage of the Road Runner running and then being squished by an anvil?” It was a question. He hadn’t seen it himself; his mom had described it.

Avery giggled. “I saw it! That edit was a piece of art. I saved it. You didn’t see it?” She grabbed her phone, swiped to get at her Facebook, and clicked through. “Here.”

She handed her phone over again. He watched it. It was better than his mom had described it that morning. They hadn’t cut to the cartoon, as much as cut out the cartoon and pasted onto the football field. They laughed. And then watched it again and again and continued laughing until Avery clutched her sides and his head started pounding again.

Her eyes were shiny with unshed laughter tears and her cheeks pink.

“What are you doing today?” he asked, still laughing.

Her face fell. “Oh shit. What’s the time? I’ve got to get ready for work.” She glanced at the clock on the stove and took a breath. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to leave.”

His heart dropped. Somehow, he’d figured they’d spend the day together. He thought they’d go out maybe. He still had twenty dollars in his pocket. The last twenty dollars he had.

Shit. He needed to get a job, too. “They’re not hiring, are they?”

“Who, Hardy’s?” she asked. “I don’t know. Mr. Hardy is always looking for someone to help him in the repair shop. Are you any good with your hands?” She blushed, like literally as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

The question weighed heavily in the air for a second as he deliberately grinned and cocked his head to one side.

“I mean, mechanical? Like, with tools?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m just going to stop talking and get cleaned up. You can come with me if you like. To talk to him.”

He was still grinning at her blush as she flew through the swing door and took the stairs two at a time again.