3. Sophomore Year
Sophomore Year
LONDON
AGE SEVENTEEN
" B ro, what's up with you tonight?" Fish says as he chucks a toy football at me across the balcony.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie as I look down at the people gathered around the bonfire for the last party of the year.
"We've been best friends since kindergarten. I know better, so why don't you tell me the real reason your head is anywhere but here?"
Fisher comes over and leans onto the rail beside me.
I don't answer him. The school's baseball team just won state.
We're here tonight to celebrate with his cousin Cooper, who pitches for the Cougars.
I thought coming might make me feel better, though I'm not sure why, since masking shit never fixes anything.
Eventually, the mask falls, revealing what we thought we could hide.
But it's not the fall I'm worried about.
In fact, it's the reveal. Will I still be me, or will he be removed too?
A loud cackle catches in the wind, and we spot the source at the same time.
Fish chuckles. "Oh, now I get it. You're hiding from Riley.
I still don't understand why you're still letting whatever the fuck you have going on with her play out.
There is no way Coach Heron can afford to lose you next year.
You're literally the only person in town that can throw a football worth a shit, and you've already got your full-ride offer to Stanley. "
I watch Riley laugh and dance with her entourage around the bonfire as she shakes her ass for anyone who will look her way, and I cringe.
Teenage popularity makes no sense. Is Riley Heron attractive?
Yes, every girl wants to be her, and every guy wants to date her, aside from me and Fisher Downs.
It's funny how I have something everyone wants, and I don't want it.
I haven't wanted it since the day I got it.
One would think the easy answer to getting rid of things they don't want is simply getting rid of them, but I'm not cruel, even if my intentions were never altruistic.
I think that's why I haven't been able to bring myself to cut the cord.
Riley Heron may play the unsuspecting, na?ve, head-in-the-clouds card well, but she's smart.
She knows what I hope to gain by having her on my arm, the same way I know what she expects from me.
In small towns, in the heart of America, traditions die hard.
The captain of the cheer team is supposed to date the quarterback.
They're supposed to be prom king and queen, the envy of the school, which is part of the crux of the dilemma I've found myself in.
Her dreams are not innately evil. Misguided perhaps, but not ugly.
I've stuck it out, hoping to find my redemption for entering this situation with ulterior motives.
However, at what point have I done my time and paid my dues for a mistake?
When do I get to say, "I fucked up. This isn't working.
" Every day that ticks by as I wait for my sign, I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself.
I'm not this guy, and she is not my girl.
"Hey, hey, hey, what are you fuckers doing up here on my deck? The party is downstairs," Cooper says, strolling out onto the deck off his bedroom.
Fisher's dad and his brother own horse-racing tracks in Kentucky, and not just any tracks—the big ones. What I've never been able to put together is why they choose to live in Willow Creek.
"We came up here looking for you, to congratulate you on an immaculate ninth inning when the Cougars were only up by one," Fisher says, pulling Cooper under his arm and roughing up his hair. "Whose house?" Fisher yells.
"Coogs house!" Cooper and I say in unison.
"Alright, alright, come on, let's get this party started," Cooper says, ducking in the door and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. "Let's do a quick shot before we head down."
I snatch the bottle from his hand. "Where did you get this from?" I ask as I check the label.
"I raided Dad's cabinet. If he notices—which chances are slim—I'll remind him of the meeting he had last weekend. He has so many bottles out at all times he won't remember what he served, let alone how much and when."
"It's warm,” I say.
He swipes it back. "So are hot toddies, buttered rum, and Spanish coffee." He pulls the cork and mocks, " It's warm . You sound like someone who needs a shot."
"That's because he does," Fish piles on. "Pass it this way." He takes the bottle before Cooper has finished his shot to take his own. After knocking back a hefty swallow himself, Fisher passes me the bottle. "You're up, Hale."
I hadn't planned on drinking tonight. I've taken two swigs off the beer Fish shoved in my hand the second we arrived.
I'm not in the mood, which I know is beyond pathetic.
For the most part, we can score alcohol when we want, but it's not a guarantee, which is why you don't turn it down, and you sure as hell don't show up as the buzz kill.
The spices of the amber liquid are more pronounced warm, and while it's still poignant, the warmth mellows the burn.
I take a look at the label. I've had warm whiskey and hated it.
Whatever expensive shit this is…it's good.
There may be a burn, but I had zero urge to wince.
I bring the bottle to my lips for one mo re taste, hoping to knock my anxious thoughts down a notch, when Cooper's words cause me to choke on the spicy spirit.
"Holy shit! Is that Hart who just showed up with Syd?"
My eyes find her instantly, and my heart starts hammering against my chest when I see she's wearing my old t-shirt like a damn dress.
A barrage of emotions attacks all at once, and my ears begin to ring as I try to sort through the fact that she decided to show up in my t-shirt, looking hot as fuck.
She said she was over me. I search my mind for the words she gave me and replay them, confirming I didn't miss something.
Laney said, "Liked, past tense," I'm sure of it, but this isn't like her.
She doesn't pull stunts like this, and finding out I wasted any time on someone else when she could have been mine all along has me on the edge of spiraling.
"Shut up, Cooper," Fisher says, punching him in the arm.
"What? You don't see what I see. She looks like she wants to be my next girlfriend. Laney might be like a little sister to you but not to me." He crosses his arms. "And she likes to ride my horses. All I need is one trail ride to move things out of the friend zone."
I grasp the rail on the balcony hard, using it to rein in the growing anger I have no right to feel, but it's there all the same.
"Laney is taken,” Fish tells him, attempting to make him back off.
"Since when? Donovan might like her, but the feelings are clearly not mutual. Otherwise, they'd already be something, and since they're not…" He excitedly runs his hands together and turns on his heel to leave when Fisher catches his collar and pulls him back. "What the hell, man?"
He clears his throat, and his eyes nervously flick between Cooper's and mine as he waits to see if I'll jump in. When I don't, he says, "I said she's already taken. That's London's girl."
Now it's Cooper, whose eyes are as big as saucers, moving between me and Fisher's.
"That's a joke, right?" He crosses his arms, waiting for a confirmation that won't come.
I get why he thinks it's a joke. From the outside looking in, I'm with Riley, not Laney.
Riley may not have the fancy title she wants, but she's next to me in the cafeteria, walking with me in the hallways, and hanging around whenever we're at the same events—not Laney. "If that's true, prove it."
I raise a brow. "Prove it," I repeat as I watch her walk toward the keg with Sydney.
"Yeah, pick a lane, Hale, because you don't get two girls," Cooper presses. His tone might be light, but he doesn't want to follow Fisher's advice.
Laney is a sophomore like him, and in our small town, dating options are limited. Most people pair up early, and dating someone's ex gets messy.
Even though Laney has been here a few years, she's still considered an outsider.
Sydney Downs knows everyone and is picky about her inner circle, mainly because the Downs family has money, which attracts people with ulterior motives.
Laney was clueless about who the Downs were.
Sydney's friendship could've given Laney access to any social group, but she's stayed under the radar.
"Let it go, Coop. That t-shirt she's wearing…
" Fish's eyes swing to mine as he leans on the balcony, watching the girls, and I see it.
I know, without words, that he sees what Cooper sees, what every guy will undoubtedly notice—she looks good…
too good not to take a shot. Fish gives me a head start.
"That shirt is London's. She might not be interested in Noah Donovan, but I'm not sure the same can be said for London.
A girl doesn't show up wearing a man's shirt if she's not trying to get his attention. "
When we first met, I thought Laney needed saving.
It was just her and her mom, like it was just me and my dad.
She was new in town and didn't know anyone, and who doesn't want a friend?
But I quickly realized Laney Hart never needed rescuing; she stays on the sidelines because she prefers it there.
The first half of her life was spent picking up and moving around the country, following her mom wherever her work led.
Making friends was pointless. She didn't get to keep them.