The Me I Meant to Be Page 20

  Hey?

  He approached me like he was walking up to a friend and not a girl he had insulted just the other night.

  I bristled. “What are you doing here?” I looked beyond his shoulder and then all around, up and down the driveway and even down the street, as though he might not be alone.

  It was paranoia. What did I think? That he’d brought friends? To do what? Toilet-paper my house?

  But then what was he doing here at all? I should be paranoid. This couldn’t be good.

  I glanced behind me, wondering if I should bolt back inside and lock the door on his too-pretty face.

  “I wanted to see you after what happened the other night.” He buried a hand in the front pocket of his jeans. The action stretched his T-shirt across his chest. A ridiculous chest. It was broad and muscled. Improbable for an eighteen-year-old, but then this whole scenario was improbable.

  What were the odds that Travis’s star quarterback would have singled me out at that party? That he would have kissed me? That he would now be standing on my front walk?

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly cold and nervous. But, refusing to look like the coward I felt, I stepped down the porch steps toward him. “Why are you here?”

  He shrugged like it was obvious. “I don’t feel right about that night.”

  That was funny. I didn’t feel right about that night either, but it didn’t have anything to do with Beau Sanders. “How’d you even know where I live?”

  “Not too hard to find out. I have friends that go to Madison.” He held up his hands in the air in a nonthreatening gesture. “I promise I’m not stalking you.”

  I released a tight, breathless laugh. “Says every stalker who ever existed.”

  His mouth twisted in a semblance of a smile. “I forgot that you’re funny.”

  “Yeah. Well . . . what do you want?” I didn’t worry about sounding rude. He’d been a jerk the other night, and now he’d shown up here. I didn’t owe him politeness.

  “Well, I thought about what I said, what I called you . . .”

  “Cock-tease?” I reminded.

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his nape, actually looking shamefaced. “I feel bad about saying that.”

  “Except you did say it. Friday night. You called me that.” I held his stare, not so much as blinking.

  He nodded. “I was in a bad place that night . . . and I took it out on you and Tucker.” He exhaled. “Just because you walked out to the dock with me didn’t entitle me to anything. Even though you kissed me—”

  I held up a hand, wishing he would just stop now. I didn’t want to think about that regrettable kiss. I’d let his pretty face blind me. I’d thought it could distract me from other stuff. Zach stuff. Zach-flirting-and-being-with-other-girls stuff.

  “That kiss didn’t entitle me to anything,” he added again. “A girl decides. I’ve always known that. I guess I just . . .” His voice faded. He looked at me. “I was just a dick and I’m sorry, Willa. I deserved that slap.”

  I stared back at him, then away and back at him again. “You tracked me down to tell me that?”

  “Well, yeah. That guy isn’t who I want to be.” His hazel eyes took on an earnest light. “I’m not him.” Clearly this mattered to him, and I couldn’t help wondering what he meant when he said he’d been in a bad place. I guess all of us had our baggage, and I got the sense he was trying to shake his loose.

  “I hope you believe that and accept my apology,” he said.

  I stared at his handsome face a moment longer, wondering what it was about star football players. Did they all have to look like they’d stepped off the set of some CW show? I mean, was it a requisite?

  I sighed. Whatever the case, he wasn’t the complete jerk I’d thought. He’d sought me out to admit that he had been a dick and apologize. It was decent of him.

  “I see that.” I uncrossed my arms, feeling less nervous now. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Sure.” He nodded and looked around. An awkward silence fell. “Okay, then,” he said, and started to turn. A door slammed and drew our attention to the house next door.

  Zach charged across his lawn. I blew out a breath, knowing this wouldn’t be good. He must have spotted us out the window. Knowing what was coming, I stepped in his path, blocking him from reaching Beau.

  He stretched an arm over my shoulder, pointing at Beau. “What are you doing here?”

  “Zach,” I said. “Calm down. It’s fine. He just came over to apologize to me for the other night.”

  He shot me a quick glance, his lip curling in a sneer. “Are you kidding me?”

  My hands sank against the soft cotton of his T-shirt, trying not to notice the firmness of his body underneath the fabric, trying not to think about last night and just how close in proximity I had been to this chest.

  “Zach,” I said in my best scolding tone. “Go home. This isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

  “Leave you here with him?” His gaze shot back to Beau. “Not happening.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on.” Beau’s voice intruded. “You mean to tell me Tucker lives next door to you?” He pointed back and forth between us.

  I sighed and tossed a glare over my shoulder at him. “Yeah. So what?” Beau shook his head and laughed, his expression full of amusement.

  Zach’s chest lifted on a hard breath under my hands.

  “Man,” Beau continued, “that explains a lot.”

  If my glare had the power to maim, Beau would never play football again.

  “We’re good now,” I said tightly. “You can go, Beau.”

  “Sure.” Still laughing lightly, he started down my walk. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. You two clearly have a lot to work out.”

  No! I wanted to shout after him. We don’t have anything to work out! But of course we did. We had everything to work out.

  Zach continued to press his weight into my palms, clearly still eager to tear into Beau. And this wasn’t like him. He might have played football and hung out with guys that enjoyed aggression and violence even off the field, but he’d never been like that.

  “Enough,” I growled. “He’s leaving.” I looked up at his face. His eyes followed Beau as he walked toward his truck.

  Finally, he eased against my hands.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I demanded.

  His gaze snapped to my face. “Sorry if I reacted to seeing the same guy you slapped the other night at your house.”

  I dropped my hands from his chest and stepped back. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Your ability to take care of yourself doesn’t mean I just stop giving a damn about you.”

  “You’re reacting like some . . . jealous boyfriend.” Heat crawled up my face, and I wished I’d said anything other than that. The moment the statement was out, I regretted it. It brought to focus last night . . . and the question: What were we exactly?

  I didn’t want him to think I expected anything of him or was fishing for a declaration of love and undying fidelity.

  I could be mature. People messed around for fun. That was normal. Healthy, to a degree. Our newfound intimacy did not mean he was obligated to be my boyfriend. I understood that.

  He sucked in a breath that expanded his chest. “I’m not your boyfriend. Fine.”

  I held his gaze, feeling a little hurt and angry at myself for that.

  I guess, admittedly, a part of me wanted him to insist he was my boyfriend now.

  He waved toward the street. “But that guy wasn’t here to apologize.”

  I crossed my arms. “I think he was.”

  Zach snorted. “Don’t be naïve. I wouldn’t trust that guy. He’s looking to get in your pants.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Kind of like you?”

  Zach stared at me like I’d sucker-punched him. “Is that what you think? You think I’m like him? That you’re just some hookup for me?” Zach pointed toward the street. He was furious.

 
“And you think I’d just let him in ‘my pants’?” I curled my fingers into air quotes, refusing to let his anger surpass mine.

  Heavy silence passed as our words swam around us like poison in the air.

  The front door opened behind me. “Willa. What are you doing out here? You’re grounded.” I looked over my shoulder at Mom on the porch. She didn’t look happy, but then that had been her expression most of the day. Her gaze cut to Zach. “Go home, Zach.”

  He nodded, his hot-eyed stare still fixed on me even as he addressed Mom. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I didn’t wait to watch him obey my mother. I turned and went back inside my house and tried not to think about him for the rest of the day.

  GIRL CODE #28:

  It’s easier to be a friend than an enemy.

  Flor

  AFTER a while I got up from the floor and took a shower. It helped. I felt a little better when I got out. At least a little less like crying.

  I wiped my fogged mirror clean with a hand towel and stared at my reflection. My dark eyes stared back, shadows like bruises under my bloodshot eyes.

  It was just one more thing. Another blow, but I’d handle it. My mind drifted to Grayson. I knew a boy shouldn’t matter so much, but right now I was glad to have him. Seeing him tomorrow gave me something to look forward to, and I needed that.

  Wrapped in a towel, I emerged from the bathroom, only to squeak when I spotted Dana on the edge of my bed, waiting for me.

  “What do you want?” I didn’t raise my voice. I hardly even glanced at her. My voice said it all. I was tired. Bone tired. Sleeping in late today hadn’t done much good.

  “Just thought you might want to . . . talk.”

  I gripped the edge of my towel tighter. “Talk? You want to talk to me?” I snorted. That would be a first. I glanced toward my door to see if Dad was lurking there. Was she doing this for his benefit? To impress him? She should wait for him to be present to witness her efforts.

  “It might be nice if you and I got to know each other better.”

  I pointed at myself. “You want to get to know me?”

  “Is that so surprising? I am in a relationship with your father.”

  And that reminder was a bitter pill to digest after an already eventful night.

  “You don’t need to get to know me, remember?” I snapped. “I’m moving to the apartment above the garage.” How could she have forgotten? I was sure she’d had everything to do with getting rid of me.

  She rolled her eyes and waved an arm in the direction of the garage. “You’re right outside the house in your own apartment, which is more luxurious than anything I’ve ever lived in.”

  “Except now,” I shot back. Now she had this house. “But you’re right,” I went on to add. “I will be right outside. Kind of silly, isn’t it? You were so determined to boot me out of this house, and I’ll still be so close. You could have just waited until I left for college next fall. Rather impatient of you.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t do this.”

  “What am I doing?” I shrugged.

  “Being difficult.”

  “Life is difficult, I’m learning.”

  She laughed. “Spare me the teen drama.” She propped her hands behind her and leaned back on the bed. “You have your looks. A father who loves you. You can go to any college you want. Oh, and you’re a crazy talented athlete. I would have killed for even one of those things when I was eighteen.”

  I stared at her. Words eluded me. I never would have thought she thought any of those things about me. I was surprised to know she thought about me at all.

  “You didn’t have a father who loved you?” I finally asked.

  “It was just my mother. My father wasn’t in the picture. He left us when I was four. I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”

  I processed that. At least my mother called occasionally.

  “Look, Flor. Your dad is important to me. This relationship . . .” She paused, crossing her legs and leaning forward. “He makes me happy and I want to make him happy, too. I guess asking you to move to the apartment is selfish of us.”

  “You think?” I snapped.

  She nodded in acknowledgment. “I just want to make this thing work between us.” Her gaze pinned me to the spot. “You said it. You’ll be gone soon. You’ll be at college and starting your own life. Don’t you want your father with someone and happy?”

  Staring at Dana, I finally saw her as something besides the jailbait witch out to steal my dad. “Yeah. Maybe I can see that.” And I guess I did. I guessed having me underfoot probably didn’t give them much solitude either. I sighed.

  She smiled then, looking relieved.

  I fidgeted where I stood, adjusting my grip on my towel, wondering if we had just entered some manner of truce. It seemed impossible considering my earlier tears, but I didn’t want to be mad or sad anymore, and she just seemed so human sitting here on my bed.

  “So how’s that hot tutor of yours?” Dana suddenly asked.

  “Grayson?”

  She laughed. “Who else?”

  “Um. Fine.” Better than fine. He was an amazing kisser and a kick-ass fighter. Part of me felt compelled to tell her that. To see her reaction. And maybe . . .

  Maybe I just didn’t want to hate her anymore. Hating someone was a lot of work. It was easier not to hate. It would be easier, I realized in that moment, to turn her into a friend.

  I cleared my throat. “Why don’t I get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs to try some of those black-bean brownies you made.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  I shrugged. “You got Dad to eat them.”

  “He loves them!” She nodded.

  “Er, he said they were okay . . .”

  She moved excitedly for the door. “I’ll pack some in your lunch, too. You can share with your friends.”

  I watched worriedly as she left the room, wondering if I wasn’t going to regret this particular act of goodwill.

  GIRL CODE #29:

  If your ex likes another girl, don’t treat the girl like it’s her fault.

  Willa

  MOM dropped me off. She’d hardly talked to me since that brief exchange with Zach, but she wasn’t about to let him take me to school.

  I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped into the halls. My entire existence had been largely invisible at Madison. And now far too many people were looking at me. Whispering. Smirking. Seeing me. My shield of invisibility had lifted.

  I turned down the hall for my locker and it was more of the same. Eyes on me.

  I scanned the faces, searching for someone familiar. A friend among unfriendlies.

  My heart leapt as I spotted Jenna and Farah. I waved and then stopped, my arm dropping to my side as they quickly looked away from me, not meeting my gaze. Their expressions were grim—​somber, even. And then I couldn’t see their faces at all because they turned, walked away as one, and ducked down an intersecting hall.

  Oh. God. It was out.

  Everyone knew about Saturday. Or at least they knew some semblance of the truth. The warning bell rang and I wasn’t even at my locker yet. Great. I was going to be late. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care because it felt like I was dying inside.

  “Hey, lookee, guys. It’s Willa.”

  I whirled around as Hayden and two of Zach’s other teammates stopped in front of me. These guys never talked to me, but they were in front of me now, looking me over like I had something on my face.

  “Heard about your little escapade with Tucker on Saturday.”

  Mortification washed over me, scalding my face. I tightened my grip on the straps of my backpack. “Nothing happened.”

  “Public lewdness.” Hayden chuckled. “Nice. I didn’t know you were into doing it in public.”

  One of the other guys added, “I didn’t know she was into doing it at all.”

  They all laughed then.

  Disgusted, I tried to step around them, b
ut Hayden blocked me. I glared up at him. “Get out of my way.”

  He tsked. “So rude. I heard you could be really friendly.”

  I fought the urge to slap him. That was a scene I didn’t need. My face burned hotter. The tension in me twisted tighter. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I felt the attention around us growing. Things were bad enough, and now I was stuck with these Neanderthals, one step away from a scene. Didn’t people have class to get to?

  He reached out and toyed with a piece of hair draped over my shoulder. “If you’re done with Tucker, maybe you can try out my back seat this weekend.”

  I sucked in a breath. “You’re a pig.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Willa. The whole world knows you got a dirty little streak in you now. How about you and me see if—”

  Suddenly he was shoved into the metal lockers with a crash. He spun around on his assailant and started to come up off the lockers. “What the fuck!”

  Zach shoved him back into them. “You don’t look at her and you certainly don’t spout off your filth at her. Understand, Hayden?”

  “Damn, Tucker! You don’t have to get all worked up. I didn’t touch her. I sure as hell didn’t realize you and her were a thing—”

  “Well, now you know. So show some respect or it’s my boot permanently in your ass.”

  I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were too tight. I felt a shift in the air. A ripple passed through the sudden silence swelling like a storm around us.

  The tardy bell rang shrilly, and I jerked like it was a new sound to me. No one else seemed to move or even care. Everyone continued to gawk. They wouldn’t dare leave and miss the drama. They smelled potential blood in the air, and they wanted to be present for the first drop.

  I scanned the crowd and that was when I saw her.

  Flor stood as still as a statue, her gaze shifting from Zach to me. Her mouth hung open, lips parting in a small O.

  “Flor,” I started to stay, stepping forward, holding a hand out to reach her. I had to get to her. Had to make her understand. “I—”

  She didn’t let me.

  She turned and bolted into the crowd.