Chapter 1
Nate
Before
Coach has me dropping off handouts for Ms. Price.
I don’t usually walk this way, past the art wing, haven’t even been down here since I had to take art as a sophomore. My drawings were shit, but Ms. Price still passed me. She said I was alright for a jock.
Whatever that means.
I stroll into her room, waving the papers in her direction. She’s across the room with a student, so she points at her desk. I drop the stack and turn to head back out, but something stops me.
There’s this painting.
It’s propped up on an easel near the windows, half-finished, but freakin’ awesome.
Like, stop-you-in-your-tracks good.
And I don’t know shit about art, but this thing looks like it belongs in a museum.
The student painting is scrawny with brown skin and black hair hanging down into his face. I think he’s one of the freshmen that the guys on the team mess with. Quiet kid, mostly a ‘keeps to himself’ type.
Think his name’s K-something?
I almost felt bad for the kid the other day when the guys were messing with him, tearing up his drawings.
I ain’t like that.
Never saw the point of making somebody feel bad, especially the freshmen.
Low hanging fruit, if you ask me.
“Dude, that is fuckin’ sweet!” I say, walking over to get a better look.
Ms. Price shoots me a look, all disapproving, but I ignore it, still focused on the painting.
It looks straight out of a picture. Better even, with clouds, dark and stormy, and rays of sunlight shining through.
I’ve never seen anything like it, especially not in real life.
The kid looks up at me, eyes wide behind huge glasses. “Um… t-thanks.”
“No joke. You got real talent,” I tell him with a pat on the back, right as Ms. Price steps in, ushering me out with a stern warning not to bother her kids.
But man, I’m thinking about that damn painting for the rest of the day.
Now
It’s way too early to be leaning against the counter with my mug that says number one coach, but I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Iris.
My mind kept replaying her in that green dress, looking up at me with her lip between her teeth, my tie wrapped around her fingers.
She wanted me then, I know it.
I’ve been racking my brain since I got home last night, trying to understand. I’m clearly interested. I asked her to go out with me, but she turned me down. And then she almost kissed me.
Her words and her actions just ain’t lining up.
My sister picks up on the third ring. “Dammit, Nathaniel, do you know what time it is?” 6:05 AM. On a Sunday. But I can’t be worrying about that right now. This is important.
“I think I’m in love,” I blurt out.
“Well, shit.”
There’s rustling on the other end, then a muffled curse and what I think is her knocking something over. “Alright. I’m up. What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re my favorite sister.”
“No shit, I’m your only sister. Now. Start from the top.”
I tell her everything.
I start with meeting Iris, how she’s different from any girl I’ve ever met. How she came to the game after rejecting me. I tell her that dancing with her made me feel like the luckiest man in Rosehill.
About how close we got…
“I thought she was gonna kiss me. She looked like she wanted to. But then she froze. I could tell that—” I frown at the memory of this moment. Not one of the best in the lineup.
“I could tell she didn’t want it anymore.”
“And this isn’t the first time she’s turned you down?”
“No,” I admit, and I’ll say, having to tell my sister about getting rejected isn’t my idea of a fun time, but I do it anyway.
“I asked her out a couple weeks ago. But I swear, Liz. It seems like she likes me back. It’s not like I can’t take no for an answer. And I really did try to give her space, but—”
“Nate,” Liz interrupts my rambling. “It sounds like she’s scared.”
“Scared of me?”
“No, dummy. She probably had a bad breakup or something. You don’t know what’s happened in her past. Maybe she’s hesitant to put herself out there. Maybe she thinks you’re messing around, looking for something casual.” She pauses.
“You’re not, are you?”
“I’m calling you at six on a Sunday, asking for dating advice. What do you think?”
“Okay, okay. Just making sure this ain’t about getting in her pants. You tend to go after the prettiest, most emotionally unavailable girl you can find.”
I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face.
She’s right, but this isn’t that. I’m serious about Iris.
“Liz…it’s not like before.”
I can hear her take a deep breath over the phone, and I already know where this is going. “Nate… you’ve been hung up on Sav for the last, what? Eight years? You shouldn’t chase after that poor girl if that’s what this is.”
“This isn’t about her.”
“Isn’t it? ‘Cause sometimes I think you’re still waiting on Sav to realize she made a mistake and come back to you. If you’re not gonna give that up, you need to let Iris find somebody who’s all in on her.”
“I’m not waiting on her,” I tell her, and that’s the truth.
Maybe I was at some point. Back when it was fresh, when the woman I thought I was gonna marry up and left me.
But that was before.
“You sure about that?” she presses.
I take a breath and look out the kitchen window, the early morning light spreading across the backyard. I’m not mad at my sister for pushing. She doesn’t understand that I couldn’t do a single thing to hurt this girl.
“She makes me feel different,” I say. “Sav didn’t want me, she wanted the football star. I know Iris ain’t like her, she’s a good woman. You’d know it if you met her, Liz. And the way I feel when I’m with her, I’ve never felt anything like it.”
I pause before adding, “Not even with Savannah.”
“Wow. You actually sound serious.”
“I am.”
She lets the silence stretch, then continues, her tone much more serious than it was five seconds ago, “I think she does like you. But it sounds like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“She looked at me last night like…” I trail off, trying to find the right words. “Like maybe no one ever told her she was beautiful before. Like she didn’t believe me.”
“Don’t be the guy who proves her right. If she’s scared, give her a reason not to be. You’re good at showing up for people, Nate. That’s what you do best. Keep being steady, and I think it’ll work itself out.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can. You’re the most stubborn jackass I know.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Anytime. And Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“If she’s still on the fence, I can talk to her for you. I’m sure knowing she’ll get such a good sister-in-law out of the deal will encourage her to date you if nothing else.”
The school is kinda creepy in the morning without all the students. It’s quiet, but in a high school, you’re not really used to that. No voices or footsteps, only the occasional shuffle of a teacher arriving and unlocking their door.
I start into the art wing, coffee in hand, trying not to feel like an anxious teenager with a crush. My heart’s already pounding harder than it should be, but I tell myself it’s the caffeine.
When I reach Iris’s classroom, I can see that the lights are on, so I push the door open, but stop at the sight of her.
She’s behind an easel with a paintbrush in her hand. Her wavy hair pulled back, and her overalls are covered in paint. There’s a sliver of brown skin showing on her sides, and that lip’s between her teeth in concentration. Shit.
I let out a sound, some sort of gasp that I’m not gonna dwell on.
Ain’t my fault she looks like that.
She flinches, dropping her paintbrush and splattering blue paint across the floor. “Nate?” she gasps, getting off her stool to pick up the dropped brush. “What are you doing here?”
“Brought you something,” I say, holding out the coffee cup. “Scaring you wasn’t part of the plan.”
She bends down and wipes up the paint. “It’s okay,” she says, dropping the dirty rag in one of the back counter sinks and nodding toward her painting. “I was distracted.”
I step forward, handing her the coffee, but she hesitates before crossing the room to take it. “You didn’t have to—”
“Didn’t mind. I wanted to see you.” She looks up at me, all startled and wide-eyed, like she wasn’t expecting that, but I carry on like normal.
“You always paint this early?”
“I like the quiet,” she admits.
“Really? I thought it was sorta creepy.”
She giggles at that, and making her laugh is starting to become one of my favorite things to do.
“Can I see what you’re working on?” I ask, nodding toward the painting.
“Um…” She looks away, considering it.“I guess, but don’t judge. It’s not finished.”
“Hey, I’m lucky if my stick person comes out straight. I ain’t judging the art teacher.”
Her cheeks are pink as she walks over to her painting. She’s clearly uncomfortable, showing me her art, but I don’t know why.
Her painting, unfinished or not, is freakin’ amazing.
A detailed waterfall flows down the entire canvas, and colorful flowers surrounding it stand out against the natural background. It’s pretty and realistic at the same time.
So Iris.
“What do you think?” She asks, her eyes not meeting mine.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell her. “Almost as beautiful as its artist.”
She shakes her head like she’s trying to brush the words away. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not.” I take another step closer to the canvas. “You’re real talented, Iris.”
I turn back to look at her, “I mean it.”
She looks away, crossing her arms over her chest, and this isn’t the first time she’s done that. It breaks my heart to think that someone so beautiful and talented could feel uncomfortable getting praise.
Makes me want to shower her in it even more.
“Can I tell you something?” I start, waiting until she looks up to continue.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Her breath catches, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.
“After the dance, hell, the football game. You looked at me like… like you wanted me. But before, when I asked you to go out with me, you turned me down. And I’ve been trying to understand why.”
“I ain’t mad, but—” I pause, searching for the right words that might convince her to give me a chance.
“I like you, Iris. I’m not trying to play games or make this complicated. If you tell me no again, I’ll back off, but I don’t want to pretend I ain’t feeling something here and—”
“I know you like me, too. I don’t know what’s holding you back, but I’m telling you, Iris, I want this. I want you. So please, give me a chance to show you.” I’m practically begging by the end of it, but I’m way past caring.
Until I notice that her eyes are glistening, and she presses her lips together like she’s trying not to cry before turning away.
Fuck.
Maybe this was a bad idea. She already said no, for god’s sake.
“You don’t know everything about me,” she says finally, her voice coming out weak.
“Iris, look at me,” I say, more firm than I’d usually talk to her, but I need her to listen. She turns around and looks up at me, slowly, her lip tucked between her teeth again.
“Darlin’, ya gotta stop doing that,” I say, and taking a chance, I reach forward, slow enough to let her stop me and run my thumb over her lip, making her release it.
“S-sorry…”
“It’s alright,” I allow with a chuckle. “But ya gotta stop teasing me if I’m never gonna get to kiss you.”
“I um…” She mumbles, her cheeks turning more red than they already were.
“Iris, let me take you out. One date. Show you how serious I am about you.” She looks down at her coffee cup, long enough that I think she might actually reject me again.
But then, she meets my eyes with a nod. “Okay. One date.”
“Yes!” I exclaim, pumping my fists into the air.
My chest expands with a joy so pure I’d almost be scared of moving too fast if I cared about things like that. All I know is, I haven’t felt this good since we won the state championship a few years back, and I’m gonna hold onto it.
I don’t miss the way the corners of her mouth lift as she fights a smile.
But, a total buzz kill, I hear footsteps in the hallway and the bell ringing overhead. “Alright. I’d better go before your students find out you’re dating the coach.”
She rolls her eyes, “One date. We’re not dating,” I grin back at her, technicalities ain’t gonna dampen my spirit.
I’m working my way up to arguing that when I hear a squeal from behind me.
I turn around to find the pink-haired girl Iris was talking to at homecoming, looking at us with stars in her eyes. “OMG, Ms. Patel, are you and Coach Wesley dating?”
“No! Of course not!” Iris responds, clearly flustered.
I don’t say anything, but I give the student a wink as I’m leaving the room, prompting another squeal from her and a groan from Iris.
I’m smiling the whole way to the gym.
Hell, I’m smiling all damn day.