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I shake my head, my throat closing up and ears drumming with my pulse. My body feels hot, like I might faint, and I think it’s because I feel foolish, like the butt of a joke I wasn’t around to hear.
“I left my wallet in my room. I was going to run for a while and figured since you all were heading in . . .” His stare is intense, and I bet his players drop to the ground and start counting off pushups the minute he looks at them like that. I kind of want to cry.
“Go on,” he finally says, nodding his head to the right in invitation.
“Oh, okay. Thank you. Thank you,” I repeat, bowing for some reason as I clutch my bag to my chest and rush into the fieldhouse lobby. James is nowhere to be seen, but Toby lingered behind, and I can tell he did that so he could walk with me. What is this stupid ego challenge happening between these two? I mean, I get that James needs this for college, but Toby can go anywhere he wants. Hell, his parents can buy him an entire school.
Now that I’m inside, I can’t really turn back around and leave, so I head into the locker room and follow through with my original plan. I change out quickly, no longer in the mood to time things so I can run into anyone. If there was a treadmill in the women’s locker room, I’d use it, and then I would tunnel out of here so I never had to see a soul.
Since that’s a fantasy, I go ahead and pop my earbuds in and push my overstuffed bag into a locker before heading to the weight room. It’s empty, which is normal for this time of day. I flip on a row of lights, leaving the room dim, then pick the treadmill by the window so I can watch the players—James—leave. I start on a low level, but within minutes, I’ve cranked the speed up to a sprint. My half-brother calls this my angry run, but it’s really more of an all-encompassing emotional run. That works, because I’m feeling a whole lot of things right now.
Most of the players have left, and for a while I was counting as they passed, as if I somehow knew the magic number I needed to see to be completely alone. I’m approaching my second mile, and my legs have gone beyond burn and are nearing that Jell-O state. I press my finger on the minus button and cut my pace in half just as I spot Coach walking away with the mystery man in the blue polo shirt. I slow to a walk so I can follow his path for any insight into where he’s headed, and why James isn’t with him. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and when I see James’s reflection in the glass, I slap the emergency stop button and grip my chest.
“Jesus! You scared me!” I shout as I yank my earbuds from my ear. I hold them in my palm like dice and lean against the back of the treadmill, my skin beading and red from exertion. Running is the only truly physical activity I’m good at, but even that sprint was a lot for me.
“Sorry,” James grunts. He moves toward the window, slipping into the space between my treadmill and the glass. He’s watching his dad, too.
“You know who that is?” he says.
“No clue. Don’t care.” My answer comes out harsh, but I’m a little hurt. He treated me like I was a ghost, or worse, like I was some fangirl who was stalking him. And his dad was rude.
James lifts his shoulders high, holding them there for a few seconds before exhaling heavily and letting them fall to his sides. He turns around slowly, and I wait with my arms crossed over my chest.
“I didn’t mean to ignore you, Morgan. I’m sorry.” His expression is soft, lips turned down and eyelids heavy. He holds out his palms and shakes his head.
I want to maintain my cold shoulder, but he looks downright pathetic. I hold on to his gaze for a full breath, mostly to make him suffer a little. It’s not nice, but my blood is still boiling.
“Who’s the guy in blue?” I ask, my lips pursed as I wait for his answer.
“Penn. Here for,duh duh duh duh!”he sings.
His jaw works side to side while I put together the fairly easy puzzle thanks to his brand of sarcasm.
“Toby.”
“Bing, bing, bing!” His voice echoes in the room, and I spin around to check the door, almost expecting someone to rush in to see what the noise is. “Relax, we’re alone. Everyone is gone. My dad left to meet with Toby’s dad in the headmaster’s office, along with Penn’s recruiting coordinator. Toby went to run his mouth off to his friends about how amazing he is.”
My back to him, I let the quiet fill in after his tantrum. My chest hurts, partly out of pity for his situation, but also, I’m still hurt. And yeah, he apologized, but it was rather pathetic. And he waited to see me—he waited for us to be alone.Why?
“Why are you here now?” I ask, turning slowly until our eyes meet.
His brow drawn in, he shakes his head a tick.
“You want me to go?” His response is meek.
“I didn’t say that. It’s just . . . are you ashamed of me, James?” I level him with it because I’ve been through hell and back a few times. There’s a reason I don’t fall for boys. It’s the pretty ones who hurt the most.
His laugh comes out almost immediately.
“Are you kidding?” James grabs one side of the treadmill and swings around so we’re both standing in the tight space. I feel a little trapped so I back into the opposite railing and shuffle my body until we’re both equal parts standing in this stall and able to escape.
My body trembles from the mix of emotions rushing through my body. I want to forget all of it, step up on my toes to hold his face in my hands and kiss his worries away while he does the same for me. But at the same time there’s an edge of fear trying to break into my head. It’s a feeling I haven’t had in a long time, that inkling of something being wrong. And no matter how badly I want to, I can’t seem to ignore it.
“Morgan, I’m a joke compared to you. I’m a joke, period. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here, and honestly, I can’t stop worrying about when you’re going to realize you’re too good for me.”
His confession slams into my chest, and it takes me a moment to catch my breath.
“I worry you’re going to realize the same thing,” I admit, choking down the emotion threatening to soften my resolve. I’m not ready to be soft just yet. I still have questions. I’m still wounded. “I don’t think your dad likes me.”
