Chapter 16
Levi tossed in his bed, unable to find the right position. The combination of the wine at dinner and the soothing sound of the light drizzle outside his cracked window should have lulled him to sleep, but tonight he couldn’t put his jumble of thoughts to rest.
He and Haddie had eaten dinner together on more than one occasion, but it usually consisted of him tossing a pizza in the oven while Haddie concocted one of her many “girl dinners,” which was what she called it when she tossed a hodgepodge of whatever was in the fridge onto a plate.
Sometimes it was half of a sliced cucumber, a couple of torn-up pitas and a tub of hummus.
Sometimes it was a handful of chips, a couple of hard-boiled eggs, and whatever fruit she could find.
“That’s just Lunchables for grown-ups,” he often teased her, to which she’d counter that adding extra cheese to his store-bought pizza and baking it on a stone did not, in fact, make it artisan.
But tonight she’d cooked for him, which took preparation and care, and Levi wasn’t used to someone taking care of him, at least not since he was a teen before his mom got sick.
Levi wasn’t oblivious to the carefully constructed walls he’d put in place since then.
Here was the paradox of Levi Rourke. The game was everything to him as a kid, a teen, and a young adult.
It came before everything and everyone, and because of that, he wasn’t at his mother’s side when she took her last breath.
He chose to believe her when she called him at school from the hospital bed that had taken up residence in their living room.
“Go win this one for me. I’ll see you when you come home next weekend,” she’d told him.
But those were the last words she ever said to him.
Now the game was Levi’s protection. It was his penance. He might have enjoyed tonight’s dinner, but he’d never in a million years find himself deserving of such treatment. Haddie had thought him worthy, though. Why?
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and looked at the time. 11:37 p.m. When it vibrated with a text and Haddie’s nickname popped up, he legit launched the device halfway across the room.
“Shit!” he hissed, scrambling out of bed to retrieve it. Some higher power must have been smiling down on him because it landed on a small pile of laundry that hadn’t quite made its way to his basket yet.
Birthday Girl: Awake?
Dammit…why did he love that a single, usually meaningless word had become their own secret greeting?
Levi: Nope. Fast asleep. This is just a dream.
Birthday Girl: How do you know it’s not a nightmare?
Levi: Because you, Haddie Martin, could only ever be a good dream.
Why he was pushing the boundaries again, Levi didn’t know. But at the same time, he imagined her biting back a grin, her cheeks flushed, and it gave him an indescribable rush to be the architect of an insuppressible smile.
Levi adjusted his pillows against the wall and pushed himself to sitting. After tossing and turning and wanting to fall asleep, now he found himself doing whatever he needed to stay awake.
Three dots appeared and disappeared. Appeared and disappeared.
Never in his many years of experience with the English language and punctuation had an ellipsis made his heart race and his palms sweat.
The anticipation was both agonizing and euphoric because he knew—at least he hoped he knew—that whatever Haddie said next would leave him with the insuppressible grin.
Birthday Girl: Tell me one thing you learned from your students’ essays.
Levi’s brows furrowed. Okay…so not even close to what he was expecting.
Or maybe it was. Because Haddie seemed to be the one constantly keeping them in line, reminding Levi that no matter what they felt…
that regardless of what chemistry might still be bubbling beneath the surface…
roommates was the furthest their connection could go.
He sighed, got his head out of the fucking clouds, and brought himself back down to earth.
Levi: McMannus is already ineligible because of Tommy’s class.
Of all his players’ responses about playing better defense or practicing running a specific play more to make it second nature, it had been Billy McMannus’s response that kept turning over in his mind: I thought Mr. Crawford’s introductory assignment was bullshit, so I didn’t do it.
Now I’m benched. But that doesn’t surprise you, Coach.
Does it? You believed what you heard about me, and I delivered on your expectations.
Despite Billy’s tone, his few paragraphs were articulate and well written. And his underlying accusation of Levi’s expectations were—he hated to admit—on the nose.
Birthday Girl: Maybe it’s time to dig a little deeper into Billy’s story.
She was right. Levi pictured Haddie in her own bed with a different kind of smile on her face, smugly thinking Told you so. And then he shook his head with a soft laugh, telling himself that no scenario where he was picturing Haddie in her bed ended with him getting a good night’s sleep.
Levi: Maybe. Hey…tell me about the rainbow thing your class did today. Do you teach weather? Just realizing you have to know all the things to teach the miniature humans. All I need to know is how to unlock the equipment closet.
Birthday Girl: LOL. I think you know more things than that.
My weather unit isn’t ’til spring, but I tossed in the rainbow activity for a student who started circle time by telling me he was afraid of the storm his mom said was coming tonight.
Figured if I taught the class one of the upsides of a little rain, they might be a little less scared.
Levi listened to the calm tapping of rain against his window and laughed. Some storm. But then he thought of Haddie forgetting about the car wash flyer so she could prep an activity that wasn’t even on her agenda, just because she cared.
Levi: You’re kind of amazing at your job, aren’t you?
Birthday Girl: I guess I just love those little rug rats, even when they’re using my Crayolas as lip stains.
His chest squeezed, and Levi swore he felt a twinge of something like…jealousy.
Levi: They earn their favoritism pretty quickly, huh?
Birthday Girl: Yes.
Her reply came quicker than Levi could blink.
Birthday Girl: Every one of my students is my favorite the second they walk through my door on day one. They’re the only ones who get to break my wait-and-see approach.
Levi: You’re a little marshmallow, aren’t u?
Birthday Girl: Take that back.
Levi: Never
Birthday Girl: Levi…
Levi: Yes…ooey, gooey marshmallow of a bday girl?
He heard her groan through the wall, and he laughed. How was it that on a random rainy Monday in September, sitting in his bed doing nothing than texting, Levi felt…happy?
His phone buzzed in his hand.
Birthday Girl: Also, if you were anyone other than you, it would be hot that you used the correct “you’re”
Levi: Wait… What? YOU think that I’m hot? ME, your roommate. Hot. (plz take note of yet a second correct “your”)
Birthday Girl: I think no such thing. I said that IT was hot. The correct usage. Proper grammar is hot regardless of user.
Light flickered in Levi’s otherwise dark room. A few seconds later, a distant crash of thunder announced what he guessed was a storm after all.
Levi: Guess your student’s mom was right
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again.
Birthday Girl: But there’s a chance it could miss us, right?
Another flicker of light with the thunder closer behind said otherwise. He checked the weather app on his phone and saw the storm was moving pretty fast in Summertown’s direction. It would likely hit them within minutes but last less than an hour before it headed to its next destination.
Levi: Don’t think so
This time the thunder came less than a second after lightning lit up Levi’s room, followed by a scream.
Before he knew what he was doing, Levi was out of bed and bolting for Haddie’s door. With his hand on the doorknob, he stopped short of barging inside.
“Haddie? Are you okay?”
“My window!” Haddie called. “Something hit it, and I think it cracked!”
A lightning-thunder combo crashed so loudly that the floor shook beneath Levi’s bare feet, and Haddie yelped again.
“I’m coming in!” he warned, and when she didn’t protest, he threw open her door as lightning illuminated the shape of a human curled into a ball beneath Haddie’s bedding.
He flipped on her light to confirm a long, jagged crack in the window’s upper pane of glass.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured her and then quickly padded into the kitchen to retrieve a roll of duct tape from the junk drawer. When he returned, Haddie still hadn’t moved. “Hey. Haddie,” he said softly. “I’m just going to climb on the bed to tape up your window, okay?”
He saw movement beneath the blanket resembling a nod. So he tore off a long piece of tape, held it between his teeth, and crawled across the mattress to the window where he pressed the tape along the seam of the break.
“Shit!” he hissed when an unexpected raised portion of the seam sliced through the tape and the pad of his finger on the other side.
“What happened?” Haddie asked, poking her eyes and nose out from the top of the blanket.
Levi expected paper-cut-level trauma, so when he saw the blood trickling from the gash, he swore again.
“Oh my god!” Haddie cried, scrambling out from her tangle of blanket and sheet and grabbing him by the wrist of his injured hand. “Come on,” she told him, and gave him a forceful tug. Levi complied, scooting to the edge of the bed and hopping off as Haddie led him to the bathroom.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the toilet.
Levi lowered the lid and did as he was told.
Haddie turned on the faucet and let it run. “Give me your hand,” she told him.
Levi complied, sighing as the cool water soothed the sting of the open wound.