Текст книги "On the Fence"

Автор книги: Kasie West

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Chapter 24

Amber spent the entirety of the game asking Braden questions about the rules and regulations of baseball, playing the perfect example of making a guy feel useful. I spent the entirety of the game pretending to be interested in Evan giving me the play-by-play while trying to actually watch the game. Toward the end of the game, Amber asked how long one of the pitchers had been on the team. “He looks so young,” she said.

Braden leaned forward and said, “You know, I’m not sure about that, but Charlie was just telling me about him the other day. How long has he been on the team again?”

I didn’t know all the players’ entry dates, but I happened to know his and yes, he was young. They all looked at me. The announcer’s voice rang out over the loudspeaker: “At the plate is Dunning and on deck is Lopez.”

“Um, yeah. He’s twenty-four. This is his second year.”

“She probably knows his stats, too,” Braden said. “She’s like a baseball encyclopedia.” He leaned back as if his job were done. And his job was done—I was mad.

“You should’ve said something,” Evan said. “I’ve probably been boring you to death.”

“No, not at all.” I gave him a weak smile. Just being here at the game was more than I could’ve hoped for. And despite the grade-school lesson on baseball, I was enjoying myself. Or was, until Braden made me feel like a jerk. I knew he did it on purpose, too. I saw the smug look in his eye as he leaned back.

“It’s pretty impressive that a girl that looks like you knows so much about baseball.”

I heard Braden laugh a little and wanted to punch him. Just because he didn’t find me attractive didn’t mean he had to make me feel stupid that someone else did. “You want to walk around before the last inning?” I asked.

“Sure,” Evan said, standing up and holding out his hand. I took it and tried to convince myself it wasn’t just to make Braden mad. Although I had no idea why it would. Except for the fact that maybe he didn’t think Evan measured up to the impossible standards he and my brothers set for my dates—he was wearing loafers, after all.

Evan made it past Braden’s legs just fine as we walked down the aisle to exit the row, but I knocked into one knee, nearly tripping, and couldn’t maneuver around his other. Evan looked back, still holding my hand. I shot Braden a look and he played innocent. I stepped hard on his foot. “Oh, sorry, was that your foot?”

He sucked in air and finally pulled his legs back.

It ended up being a good thing that Braden had outed me (not that I’d thank him anytime soon), because then we talked about things besides baseball. We talked about school and how he wanted to be a financial advisor when he grew up, like his dad. Now, finances were something I knew little to nothing about, so I had all sorts of questions for him. After a while, I said, “Yeah, you lost me when you got into that short-selling-a-stock thing. No idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughed, and I noticed how amazing it made his eyes look, all lit up like that.

“What’s your favorite sport?” I asked.

“To watch or play?”

“Both, I guess.”

“I don’t know if this counts as a sport to you, but I love to wakeboard.”

“Totally counts. That’s awesome. So you have a boat?”

“My dad does. He lets us take it out sometimes. Do you ski or wakeboard?”

“I’ve been a few times, but I’m not very good.”

“We should go. I’ll give you some pointers.”

“That would be really fun. Maybe we could take my brothers. I think you’d like them.” And they’d be super impressed if he was good at wakeboarding.

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll plan it.” He hadn’t let go of my hand as we walked around the concession level of the stadium, where they sold nachos, hot dogs, Dippin’ Dots, and waffle cones. It felt nice, not even clammy or anything. “Do you want anything to eat?” he asked.

“No, I’m good.”

He sighed. “I don’t think Braden likes me very much.”

“Braden is an idiot,” I said. “And he likes you just fine. I think it was me that he was trying to prove a point to.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous.

“He really looks nothing like you.”

“Oh. He’s not my brother. I’m sorry, I should’ve clarified that. He’s my neighbor. But I’ve known him for twelve years, so I claim him as a brother, and he’s just as annoying as one, so it works out well.”

“Oh.” He glanced toward where our seats were, as if he could see Braden from here. “Your neighbor.”

Evan had a weird expression on his face that I couldn’t place.

“Should we head back? The game’s almost over,” I said, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.”

When we were almost home, Braden said, “So, Evan, what are you doing in the morning?”

“Uh . . . nothing.”

“Do you like to play football? It’s just a pickup game. We play at nine at the park up the street from our houses.”

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Ohhh!” Amber squealed. “Do you go, Charlie?”

I nodded, silently seething over the invite.

She grabbed hold of Braden’s arm. “Can I come too?”

“Yeah, sure,” Braden said. “It’s tackle.”

I rolled my eyes. Amber wasn’t asking to play. She was asking to watch.

Evan hugged me good-bye, and then I watched as he drove away, followed shortly by Amber in her car. Braden and I stood side by side as her taillights disappeared around the corner.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

I took a deliberate step away from him. “What?”

“You pretending like you knew nothing about baseball?”

“That was me being a good date.”

He grunted and got that typical look he got when someone said something stupid—chin drawn down, eyes on the verge of rolling. “Really? Because it seemed like that was you playing dumb.”

“Whatever. That didn’t mean you had to go and do that.”

“Do what?”

“Invite him tomorrow.”

“Your brothers wanted to meet him. They texted me.” He held up his phone, as if that should make me feel better.

I tried to calm down by drawing a deep breath.

“Why are you so mad?” I wasn’t a fan of the fact that he could read me so well in that moment.

“Because you just took one of my favorite things away from me.”

“I haven’t taken anything away from you.”

My chest was tight and I had an overwhelming desire to punch him. “I can’t play tomorrow. I’ll have to sit on the sidelines, cheering you on.”

“Why would you have to do that? You’re an awesome football player.”

“Because, Braden, Evan will be there.”

He put on a rare angry face. “If you can’t be yourself around him, then you shouldn’t be dating him.”

I laughed a low mocking laugh. “Oh, yeah, be myself. Tackle guys, fall in the mud, score touchdowns, that’s real appealing to guys.”

“It is to some guys.”

“Really, Braden? Who? Tell me! Because I’ve been playing sports with the same ten guys for the last five years of my life and never has one of them hit on me, let alone asked me out. Not one! Do you think any of them see me as someone they would date? Of course they don’t. They see me as—let me see, what were the terms you guys used at disc golf the other day? Oh, that’s right—a big, burly girl. If they want someone to date, they go to the mall or the club and find a girl who wears tight clothes and does her nails and giggles at their jokes.

“I see the way guys look at Amber. I saw the way you looked at Amber. Guys don’t want a competitor, they want a cheerleader. So excuse me if I feel like I have to compromise a little of who I am to make a guy”—I pointed up the road—“a cute, nice guy, actually look at me like I’m not his teammate.” My eyes stung with anger.

Braden took a step back this time. Then he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. “You are so clueless. I don’t believe you, the most stubborn girl in the world, would be willing to do that for a guy who’s not even worth the time or effort. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. Your brothers are going to die.”

The tension in my chest had built to beyond bearable. I needed to run or this tension would keep me up all night. That or push him to the ground, which actually sounded fun in that moment. “He’s worth my time and effort. Good night, Braden,” I said, then I ran. Jeans were not fun to run in, but the breathable jersey and the sneakers I always wore made up for it.

I knew Braden had followed me. It was the middle of the night, after all, and he knew my dad would kill him if he let me go alone. I could hear him keeping pace about twenty feet behind me. I hoped he was dying in his jeans and polo shirt. I hoped his Chucks were making the arches of his feet hurt.

The big hill marked the beginning of mile three, and I glanced over my shoulder to see how Braden was holding up. He had slipped another five feet behind. I knew I could lose him over this hill if I wanted to. I could power up the hill and take a different route. But I didn’t. By this time my adrenaline had kicked in, easing my tension and making it hard to stay angry. So I slowed down a bit and let him stay within twenty feet, taking a shortcut through the park to make my normally seven-mile run closer to five.

When we got home, Braden, sweat ringing his collar and underarms, just walked into his house without saying a word.

Chapter 25

“You don’t have to do this,” I said to Evan the next morning as we walked from my house to the park, holding hands. “You know what it is, right?”

“I’m proving myself to your brothers or something weird like that?”

“Yeah.”

“What about to you? Do I have to prove myself to you?” He smiled and my heart gave a little jump.

“No. Not at all.”

Evan had dressed the part this morning—a tee and some breakaway sweats, the snaps by his ankles undone—and I was happy for it. He looked good. He even had on a nice pair of athletic shoes. They were a little too clean, but Braden couldn’t possibly complain about them.

“Then I’m fine. I’ll just have fun. I may be scrawny, but I enjoy football.”

“A lot of the guys are your size. My brothers are just giants.”

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Sorry.”

“So I thought Amber was coming too.”

“When I texted you guys to just meet at the house, she said she was running late and would meet us at the park.”

“Great. I thought another new face would deflect some of the attention off me.”

Well, the guys have never seen me in makeup, a fitted shirt, or skinny jeans, so that will probably do the trick, I wanted to say.

I squeezed his hand. “You’ll do fine.”

Most of the guys were already there setting up cones and throwing the ball around. I got a few odd glances that started on my face and outfit then lingered on Evan’s and my clasped hands.

“I take it you don’t bring a lot of boys home,” Evan whispered.

I just laughed.

My brothers walked over, shoulder to shoulder, and I felt Evan tense beside me. Gage was the only one with a smile on his face. I wanted to scream in frustration. It was obvious to me now I should’ve done this more so they didn’t act like defensive linemen, ready to take down the quarterback. Seriously, this wasn’t my life right now.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Don’t be idiots. This is Evan. Evan, the angry-looking one is Jerom, the constipated-looking one is Nathan, and the goofball on the right is Gage.”

Gage laughed. “Constipated, Nathan? We said to look fierce.” All three of them laughed now, and I relaxed when I realized they were just joking around.

“Good to meet you, Evan,” Jerom said, shoving his hand forward.

Evan shook it. I looked around for Braden and saw him on the far side of the field, passing the ball to George. So he was still pouting. I should’ve been the one ticked at him, not the other way around. He was the one who’d called me not only stubborn but clueless.

“All right,” Jerom said, clapping once. “Let’s split up into teams. Me and Gage on one side, Nathan and Braden on the other.” All four of them played on different teams or the other guys complained. Not just because they were the biggest and the best, but because they all knew each other and could read each other so well that it made an unfair advantage. “Everyone else, pick a side, divide evenly.”

“Whose team should I be on?” Evan asked me.

“Jerom and Gage,” I said, because I felt like Gage would involve him the most, try the hardest to make him feel welcome. He stepped over to the circle forming around them, and I eased off to the sidelines, waiting for my brothers to realize I wasn’t playing.

Gage noticed first and gave me his “What’s the deal?” face. I just smiled. Braden shook his head, as if he still didn’t believe I wasn’t going to participate and now seeing it actually happening made him sick. Finally, Jerom looked over.

“Pick a side, Charlie,” he called.

I was saved when a bubbly voice called, “I’m here.”

Every head turned to look at Amber. Gage nearly tripped over his own feet. She wore some jeans with flip-flops and a tight black tank top that had sparkly words I couldn’t make out written across her chest. It seemed every guy on the field was trying to make out those words too. Her hair was wavy and flowed down around her shoulders.

“Hi, Braden,” she called. Now every head turned toward Braden. He blushed a little and then waved.

She had a foldable camping chair flung over one shoulder, and she took it out of its carrying case and set it up next to me. “If I had known you didn’t have a chair, I would’ve brought one for you, too.”

“I’m good.”

“Do you watch them play a lot?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And you just sit on the ground?”

What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I say that I usually played with them? Because I felt like if I told her that, maybe it would change her opinion of me. I’d be the weird one. The one who played tackle football with guys.

“Are we going to play, or what?” Jerom asked. And with those words, the game started. If I thought they were going to go easy on Evan at all, I was mistaken. Jerom, in his attempts to throw the ball to Evan, pelted him in the chest, the side of the head, and the middle of the back. He was able to catch a few, and that’s when Braden would tackle him harder than I’d seen him tackle anyone before. I was itching to play now, so I could get back at them.

Amber hummed beside me. “Geez, Charlie, you didn’t tell me your brothers were as pretty as you are.”

“What?”

“Your brothers. They’re very model-esque, with their gray eyes and high cheekbones. They’re beautiful.”

“Um . . . Don’t let them hear you say that.”

“I should’ve guessed with them being related to you and all that they’d be striking.”

I growled, watching the game. I should’ve told Evan to be on Braden’s team so Braden wouldn’t have the opportunity to tackle him like that. “Hold on a minute,” I said to Amber, and stood up from where I had been sitting cross-legged on the grass. After the play was over, I marched up to Braden and, not wanting to embarrass Evan, I said in a quiet voice, “Why are you treating a pickup game like the Super Bowl? Unless you want to get some helmets and pads, lay off, Bruiser. If you tackle him like that one more time, we’re leaving.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but the muscle in his jaw was clenched as tight as could be.

“Why are you so mad at me? What is your problem?” I asked.

“You want to know what my problem is?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

I hesitated now, realizing where we were, but he didn’t stop. He took me by the shoulders and turned me around to face the guys, who were now all staring at us. “By a show of hands,” Braden said loudly, “who here would’ve asked Charlie out in the last six months had they not been given the ‘We will kill you if you look at Charlie’ speech by the three lugs over there when she turned sixteen?”

My first instinct was to yank away from Braden’s grip and never talk to him again. Ever. But the small thread of curiosity weaving through me seemed to have stitched me to the grass, because I couldn’t move.

A few of the guys shifted nervously and glanced at Jerom. Just when I started to feel extremely embarrassed that no one had moved, Tyler raised his hand. His bravery seemed to spur the others forward, because at least half a dozen of them put their hands up. Gage, thinking he was hilarious, had even raised his hand. Braden, I noticed, had both hands still firmly grasping my shoulders.

“Which is exactly why we gave the speech,” Jerom said darkly.

“You don’t have to change for a guy,” Braden said quietly in my ear.

If he thought in some way I’d be touched by this public humiliation, he was wrong. “Thanks, Oprah, I’ll try to remember that.” I looked at Evan. “You ready to go?”

He nodded, rubbing his neck.

Chapter 26

I waved good-bye to Amber, and she didn’t seem at all upset about me abandoning her. I gave Evan a once-over as we walked home. He had a red mark on the side of his neck and one on his bicep—probably from being pelted with the football. A long scratch ran across the back of his hand. Football wasn’t a bruise-free kind of sport, but he looked more beaten-up than normal after a pickup game.

“We have a hot tub,” I said. “That might help.”

“Not sure I want your brothers coming home and finding me in a hot tub with you. See, I didn’t get the ‘We will kill you’ speech, and I’m realizing why guys might steer clear of you if they had. They’re like a force, the four of them.”

“They are, aren’t they?” I sighed. “But they’ll be playing for a while longer, so come on. I’ll find you some swim shorts, get you a couple aspirin, and we’ll relax.”

“I’m only agreeing because this means I get to see you in a swimsuit.”

I blushed and nudged his shoulder with mine.

Up in my room, after finding him one of Gage’s suits and sending him to the bathroom to change, I pulled on my one-piece. He was going to be sorely disappointed. I only wore swimsuits for sport, so it was a pretty boring one.

We met in the hall in an awkward sort of “Do we hold hands on the way to the pool?” exchange that ended with his hand on my lower back. I tried not to stare at his defined chest and abs. So I kept my eyes straight ahead, even though I kind of wanted to see if he had any more welts from the game. No, I wouldn’t look; I was already angry enough at Braden.

I turned on the jets in the hot tub and we slid in.

“So . . . ,” Evan said after a few moments of silence. “Did I fail miserably?”

“No. You were fine. Really.”

“I’m not a huge football player. If it were baseball, I would’ve given a much better showing.” His hand found mine under the water and grabbed it, playing with my fingers.

“You don’t need to excuse yourself over a stupid pickup game. My brothers were going hard on you.”

“Your brothers were fine. . . . It was Braden who had a problem with me.”

“No. He doesn’t have a problem with you. We got in a fight last night. He was angry with me and taking it out on you.”

“Maybe. But it’s more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of me dating you. I think he likes you.”

I laughed as I thought about the night I accused him of that and he looked like he wanted to die. “No. I assure you. He doesn’t. Seriously, Evan, it’s not like that. He’s just quick to judge. He’ll come around.”

“If you say so.” He leaned in closer. “And what if I did this?” He kissed my cheek, then lingered there. “Would that make him come around faster or slower?”

“Maybe he’d get the point faster,” I said.

“Then this would help even more,” he whispered, and turned my face toward his. I knew he was going to kiss me, and I froze in panic. What if I did it wrong? He met my eyes, seeming to ask permission, but I still didn’t move. He must’ve taken that as consent because his lips met mine. They felt exceptionally soft, and I wondered if that meant mine were dry. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do, which made my stomach drop to my feet. I worried it was obvious. I let him take the lead and it seemed to go okay. I tried to take note of everything he did—the way he moved his head, how he positioned his bottom lip just below mine, the speed of his breath, his hand on my neck—so that next time I’d be better at it.

Gage doing a cannonball into the pool next to us, spraying cold water across the side of my face, pulled me out of the kiss. When Gage came up for air, he said, “It looked like you needed to cool off.” He was fully dressed. They must’ve stopped the game early on my account.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And you guys,” Gage yelled back toward the sliding glass door, “didn’t jump in on the count of three. You all owe me dinner.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Braden, Nathan, and Jerom standing by the door. Nathan and Jerom were laughing. Braden walked away.

That night at dinner my brothers all gave their initial impressions of Evan. They were better than I could’ve hoped for. Braden, who’d stayed to eat with us, scoffed at every nice remark until finally Jerom looked at him and said, “Braden, do you have a problem with Evan?”

“Yes! He’s ridiculous. He’s everything we told her not to look for in a guy.”

“He drinks V8?” Gage asked, mockingly.

Braden grunted. “He’s . . . never mind. Apparently he’s perfect. Have fun, Charlie.”

That night on my cell phone, I got the text: Fence. Now.

I thought about ignoring him. He wasn’t exactly making it easy to forgive him for his behavior. But maybe I could talk some sense into him. He was my friend and I hated it when we fought.

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” I asked at the fence. I need you to be happy for me, I thought but didn’t say.

“I could if he were right for you.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“He doesn’t even know you.” His voice was tight, angry.

I tried to keep my voice light and friendly. “Isn’t that what relationships are all about? Getting to know each other?”

“If you were giving him the right information, then yes. But he thinks you’re . . . He thinks you’re like Amber. He wants an Amber.”

“What’s wrong with Amber?”

“You’re nothing like her.”

We were both quiet for a long time. Finally, I sat down, deflated. Braden had proven to me today that half the guys at the game would’ve asked me out, but now he was saying Evan would be scared away if he knew more about me?

“And you don’t think he’d want the real me?”

“No.”

I put my forehead to my knees and pulled out handfuls of grass at the edge of the lawn. The pit in my stomach opened wide and wanted to swallow me whole. So if Evan couldn’t like me for me, was he implying there was something really wrong with me? “Why are you doing this to me? Why couldn’t you just let me figure it out on my own?”

“Because I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Unless you’re the one hurting me?”

“I’m not trying to, Charlie.”

“Maybe I’m more like Amber than you know. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know me.” I felt different. Like I was learning more about myself lately. I wasn’t just my brothers’ little sidekick.

“If you’re like her, then maybe I don’t want to know you.”

An icy pain stabbed in my chest. The grass in my fists felt cold and rubbery, and even when I opened my hands to release it, several blades stuck to my palms. I wiped them on my pants and stood. “You’re being a jerk,” I mumbled and walked back into the house.