13. KOA
13
KOA
“Nash, time for another shot,” Gage shouts from beside me on the deck. Nash has spent most of the night sitting by the fire like a king on his throne.
I’ve been perched outside on the deck doing my best to keep an eye on everyone partying in the backyard. I’m not worried about the noise since most of our neighbors are here. I am concerned about pissing off Hart even more than he already is.
“Are you going to have one?” a girl asks from beside me. I glance up from my phone to see Julia, one of the Newhouse student athletic trainers.
“No. I’m good.”
“Oh come on, Koa. You need to have at least one shot with the birthday boy.” Gage slaps my shoulder.
“Leave him alone. He did one earlier. That’s probably all we’ll get out of him,” Nash says. “He seems to be occupied anyway.” He nods toward my phone before entering the house .
“Whoever you’re messaging must be important,” Julia says, pushing her chest out a little further. Trainers aren’t allowed to date athletes but that hasn’t stopped them from trying.
Julia has always been a flirt. I think she does it so openly because she can get away with it. She knows it can’t go anywhere. I assumed it was innocent, but sometimes I wonder if she’s actually interested.
“She is,” I reply. Julia gives me a quick nod then joins Nash and Gage inside.
I read Sydney’s latest message before pocketing my phone. I can’t believe I finally admitted wanting her back.
I couldn’t have stopped the words from coming out even if I’d tried. Seeing her excited over something I knew nothing about hurt. I used to be the first person she told this kind of stuff to. I’m the one she called first when she got into Newhouse. I’m the first person she called when she got her driver’s license. It was always me first. Now I’m not even the last to know. I wouldn’t have found out at all if I didn’t walk in on it.
Admitting I wanted her was easy. There isn’t a day that passes where the thought doesn’t gnaw at me. I didn’t expect her to jump into my arms at the declaration, but the last thing I imagined she would say is that it was too late.
I keep telling myself there isn’t anything happening between her and Joe. Yet, there was something in the way she talked about this guy that felt different. For the first time, I might have real competition.
With the way they’ve been acting tonight, it’s hard to believe she's really with him though. I’ve barely seen them together for more than ten minutes. If she were mine, I wouldn’t give her an inch of space.Fuck she looks good in that dress she’s wearing.
Joe’s spent most of the party outside while she’s been sitting in the living room with Wren. The only time I saw them together was when they were dancing. I was three seconds from ripping his hands off of her.
I’m normally pretty good about staying in control when Sydney is dating someone. I know they are meaningless relationships and these guys are placeholders. Someone to pass the time with.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Sydney and Joe enter the kitchen together laughing. She bumps her shoulder against his. Maybe I’ll have one of those shots after all.
The kitchen is standing room only as everyone wants a front row seat to watch Nash toss back another round. He's going to be hurting tomorrow. We never drink this much.
Wyatt fills small plastic cups full of whatever concoction Lauren and Sydney made earlier. They thought it would be better to have shooters premixed instead of straight liquor being consumed. Going by the looks of most of the inebriated people in the room, I would say they were right.
A few guys from the football team head back outside leaving a space for me to slide in beside Enzo, who’s standing around the table watching everyone drink and chat with Nash.
The room erupts in cheers as Charlie, Nash, Wyatt, Sydney, and Wren all take their turn throwing back the pink concoction. Wyatt winces and Wren rolls her eyes.
“Would you prefer apple juice instead?” Wren teases him.
“It’s not my favorite juice but at least it wouldn’t eat away at my insides like that shit.” He points to the pitcher in the middle of the table.
“Oh come on, man. Hart’s mom makes drinks stronger than this,” Nash remarks.
“Where have you been hiding?” Enzo asks me. I’m glad it worked out for him and his brother, Marco, to make it out tonight. It’s rare our schedules line up to where we all have the same days off.
“I haven’t been hiding. I’ve been keeping tabs on everyone outside.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t been keeping an eye on someone in particular tonight.” He lifts a chin toward Sydney and Joe on the other side of the table.
“Maybe I didn’t feel like playing bodyguard tonight.”
“Are you feeling okay? There hasn’t been a day in the ten years I’ve known you when you weren’t looking out for that girl. And I know it has nothing to do with the boyfriend. They have never stopped you before.”
“He isn’t her boyfriend.” They may have gone out on a few dates but Sydney has never had a boyfriend .
“If you say so. They look like they have something going on.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?” I narrow my eyes in his direction.
“I need to do something to keep myself entertained,” he replies, chuckling.
“That’s what the girls on the dance floor are for.” Hart punches him on the back. “Hey,” he says, turning to me. “Lauren and I are going to bed. What do you want me to do with Sydney’s stuff?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“I’ll leave it in the bathroom then,” he says, and starts to leave.
I grab the top of his shoulder. “Put it in my room.” I doubt she’ll stay in the room with me but at least holding her things hostage will give me another opportunity to speak with her.
He nods then makes his way back over to Lauren, pulling her away from her conversation with Sydney and leading her upstairs.
“How long did it take you before you were okay with your sister dating your best friend?” I ask Enzo as he watches Lauren and Hart leave the party with a trace of a smile on his face.
“I think deep down I was always going to be okay with their relationship. I just had to wrap my head around the idea of her being with anyone in general. Especially someone I’ve known my whole life. He’s my best friend for a reason. He’s a good guy. I trust him with my life and with my sister. There isn’t anyone who would love her harder than him.”
This is the same logic I thought Nash would apply to me and Sydney but he never has. I’ve received nothing but threats and warnings. He should know I would never hurt Sydney. Not again.
I never would have hurt her in the first place if it wasn’t for Nash. I put distance between the two of us for him. I’ve been paying the price ever since. If I had it my way, I would have been her boyfriend the moment I figured out I liked girls. And not just any girls, but the moment I knew I liked her.
I’ll never forget the moment it happened either. I took a baseball to the head for it. She was in the stands watching me and Nash play our first game of the fall season.
The team was out on the field warming up. I took my eye off the pitcher for a second and locked eyes with Sydney. She had her hair in braids back then and wore a bright pink sundress. It wasn’t the first time I noticed her curves, but her dress didn’t hide anything.
It was her smile that made me forget where I was. She smiled at me like I hung the moon. Like I was the only guy she sees. I was busy trying to figure out how I was going to keep my promise to Nash when a baseball almost knocked me unconscious.
“How do you think Nash would react if one of his friends finally said fuck it and started pursuing Sydney?”
He shifts in place. His eyes dart around the room from Nash to Sydney and back to me. “Any of his friends or you? ”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Yes. It does.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by his answer but a new layer of irritation begins to fester under the surface.
“Hey, you two!” Nash shouts from his side of the table. “Stop looking so serious. This is supposed to be a party.” He holds up his drink in our direction.
“I don’t think they know how to loosen up and have a good time,” Sydney taunts us from across the table.
“Is that so? What should we be doing? We’re drinking, socializing. I even played one of your outdoor games,” Enzo replies.
“Dancing. What’s a party without dancing?” Her lips twist into an evil smirk.
“Enzo doesn’t dance,” Marco says from where he’s standing by Nash.
“Everyone dances,” she says, keeping her eyes on us.
“Not me. That’s where I draw the line.” Enzo takes a long pull from his beer.
“Koa?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance once in all the years I’ve known you.”
I drain the rest of my beer and silently leave the circle we’ve formed around the dining table. I toss my empty bottle in the trash can while keeping my eyes on Sydney.
“I guess that’s a no for Mahina too,” Joe quips before taking a sip of his drink .
I ignore everyone as I round the table. Including the death stare from Nash. Sydney yelps when I grab her hand and pull her into my chest.
“Maybe you never saw me dance because the person I wanted to dance with wasn’t available,” I whisper close to her ear. “Dance with me now.” I walk away, leaving the decision in her hands.
Standing in the middle of the crowded living room, I wait for her to make her choice. Is she going to break through the invisible barriers we've put on our relationship or is she going to let me walk away?
She leans into Joe and his arm goes around her waist. My hand clenches into a fist. Whatever she says has him smiling which pisses me off even more. Almost as if she’s doing this to drive home the point I don’t dance, not that she really wants to dance with me. She has no desire to be close to me while I’m dying to have her in my arms.
The skirt of her dress skates over her upper thighs with every step she takes in my direction. She looks flawless from the tip of her hot pink painted toes to the flower clips in her hair.
“Show me what you got,” she says, with her hip cocked to the side. The song playing over the bluetooth speaker has a faster tempo than I prefer. I’m not much of a slow dance guy, but I’m definitely not a throw your hands up in the air and jump around kind of guy.
Fuck the tempo, I probably couldn’t dance on beat anyway. I slink an arm around Sydney’s back, pulling her against my chest. I place another hand on the curve of her hip and start rocking side to side.
“Is this what you call dancing?” she asks, breathlessly.
One at a time, I drape her arms over my shoulders. “You can call it whatever you want as long as it keeps you in my arms.”
“Why do you keep saying these things to me? You need to stop.” Her eyes shimmer with an emotion I can’t pinpoint before it flickers out.
“Why should I stop? Because you like it?” I spin us around until we’re hidden deeper in the living room. I drop my forehead to hers. “It feels right, doesn’t it? Like everything is falling into place.” My hands wander over her hips and up her torso, gliding over the silk of her dress and teasing her bare skin through the cutouts in the material.
“All I feel is you stepping on my feet,” she says, deflecting. I laugh, knowing that is not all she feels with us being this close together. “I need to get back to my date.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I stare at my defiant little trouble maker. I loosen my hold on her. Skimming my knuckles down her arm, I enjoy the way her skin pebbles. Once I reach her hand, I grab hold of it and start walking back toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?” She tries pulling her hand loose but it’s pointless.
“I need to talk to you privately.” I turn around, smiling at the fact she’s stopped fighting me. I'll take this temporary reprieve as a small victory .
I catch Nash’s eye across the room. The tight grip he has on the table and the flare of his nostrils tells me all I need to know.
I’ll ask him for his forgiveness tomorrow. Tonight I need Sydney to understand I’m serious about giving us another shot.
“You have five minutes. I don’t want people assuming we are up here having sex,” she says, with her arms crossed over chest as I close my bedroom door.
“Relax. Everyone knows you hate me. That’s how you feel about me, right? You can’t stand to be in the same room with me?” I throw my arms out to the side. “How do you feel about me now that we’re alone?” I move toward her. “Do you still hate me?”
“I never said I hated you. You’re the one who keeps saying that. Not me.”
“No?” I question. “It feels like it most days.”
“Are we caring about each other’s feelings now? Why should I care about how you feel when you don’t seem to give my feelings a second thought?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Sydney.” I cup her cheek in my palm. “What will it take for you to give me a chance to prove to you that I care about your feelings? I didn’t know how much I hurt you over the years. I’m not just talking about graduation.”
She pulls my hand away from her face. “I’m not sure where you get your information from but you didn’t hurt me over the years. I don’t want to talk about that night or the next day. It’s done. We’re done.”
“Don’t be like that. I know you’ve felt like second best to Nash more than once. You’ve said it yourself. That doesn’t sit well with me. You have always been my first concern.”
“That's a lie,” she scoffs. “You and Nash have been inseparable for the past decade. An impenetrable force. I’ve been an outlier to your little duo and you know it.”
“That’s how it looks, but it isn’t how it feels to me. I want to show you but I can’t do that if you don’t give me a chance. Let me prove that you have always been my girl. I need you to see that we’re meant to be together.”
I stare into her deep brown eyes, watching as they slowly gloss over and pray that my pleading isn’t falling on deaf ears.
“You’re wrong. We aren’t meant to be. All we do is hurt each other.” Her eyes flutter closed and a single tear drips down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb and pull her closer. “I don’t want a man who only wants to control me and tell me what I should be doing.”
“That’s not all that I am and you know it.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“Let me show you then. I’m just asking for a chance, Sydney,” I say, meeting her eyes.
“I’m afraid it would be another mistake ,” she says, pulling away from me. The word cuts like a knife. I’ve never realized how hurtful a single word could be until it’s used on you.
“I’m going to prove you wrong,” I say, as she opens the door. “I know you said it’s too late for us, but you’re wrong.”
With a slight shake of her head, she slips out the door. I know she’s wrong. We don’t have an expiration date. I won’t stop until she understands that she’s it for me. Even if it means pissing off my best friend in the process.