6. Amber
AMBER
I t was a sad reality to accept that the thought of a scandal happening at our school was more exciting than any of my classes.
Three days into the second week, I had homework that I didn’t want to do and a missed call from my mom.
It was a ten-minute walk back to the house and the perfect amount of time to have the awkward but brief conversation that would eventually have to happen.
It was like picking between two wounds—want a dull continuous pain or a sharp stab?
Both would bring me disappointment and put a cloud of doubt around me that would take a day or two to lose. But she’s my mom.
Doesn’t mean she can’t make me feel like shit.
I took a deep breath and called her back. It would be better than avoiding her… The one time I’d tried, she’d turned my brothers against me and it had been catastrophic during the holidays. Maybe she won’t answer…
“Hello, Amber.”
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Just checking in to see how my only daughter is doing. Am I not allowed to call you?”
Don’t take the bait. Don’t. “Of course you can.”
“I should think so. Now, Martin mentioned sending you another package, trying to showcase how he is a better human than I am. What did he send you so I can send him the money? The nerve he has sending you gifts and not your brothers… Having favorites serves no purpose.”
Yeah, like you don’t favor the boys in everything. “He just sent me some notepads for class, a college sweatshirt and hot chocolate.”
“If you need supplies and clothes, you need to ask me or your father. And I thought you were dieting? How does hot chocolate fit into that?”
My jaw hurt from how hard I gritted my teeth together. Yes, I had ten pounds that wouldn’t go away and she never let me forget it. “My roommates love hot chocolate.”
“Mm. Well, share it with them.”
Deep breath in and out. “Will do. Hey, I gotta run. I see a professor I need to catch up with.”
“Glad to see you take the initiative in something. Talk soon, Amber.”
It didn’t matter how many layers I wore—the chill ran bone-deep and the small pieces of self-confidence I built each week were torn down. It took a two-minute phone call to destroy my progress and my eyes tingled.
I am never enough to my mom.
My brothers are her babies.
I am too chubby, too crass, too lazy, too unremarkable to be her daughter.
Hannah Henderson is a knock-out and the fact that I’m not one disappoints her every day.
It pissed her off that her brother favored me over the boys and I hadn’t even mentioned the gift cards, cash or the new watch that had come in the package.
She would flip her shit and insult me to make herself feel better.
It didn’t matter how many times Laney and Marissa talked to me about her narcissism, it never stopped the hurt.
God, I wanted to say to hell with being sober and have a drink.
Amber: Are either of you free? Need a distraction.
Marissa: Talk to your mom again?
Amber: Straight to the usuals. Weight, laziness, my uncle.
Laney: I’m free in twenty minutes. What you need, girl?
Amber: Heading to the Lion. I’m getting a strong-ass coffee.
Laney: Be there soon.
Marissa: Stuck in class for another two hours but I’ll text you after.
Gratitude the size of an elephant filled my lungs at the support of my friends. We all had our own shit, but it felt worse when it was my own family. The feeling would last a couple of days and by the time I’d work it out of my system, she’d call again and the cycle repeated.
Fuck. Why did I give up alcohol again?
I walked faster to the bar, hoping to warm myself up and to distract me from the urge to order three whiskeys and down them.
The urge scared me because one wouldn’t be enough and soon, I’d be in a pity party that would make me feel like shit about myself for a week.
I was better than that. Better than her insults.
“Hey, Henderson, it’s been a while. How ya been?” Rocco, the bouncer, grinned at me and I leaned into him for a hug on the patio entrance.
“Hanging in there.”
“That’s all we can do. Have a good night.”
I used to think it was cool I knew the bouncers at all the bars but really, it was because I went out four nights a week. We weren’t friends. Sure, they would help me out if I needed it, but I partied a lot and that was how they knew me. That’s how Jeff sees me.
Woah, okay, brain, settle down.
I removed my large winter hat and ran my fingers through my hair, shaking all thoughts of him out of my head.
Another person accusing me of being a piece of shit?
Not today. My guards were up. I wasn’t responsible for people’s opinions of me and I needed to remember that.
I chose a wooden booth in the back of the bar, not right in the center but a great spot for people watching.
Old me would’ve chosen the bar for quicker access—the current me liked the distance.
“Hey, girl, want a coffee?”
“You’re a goddamn angel, Greta.”
She pursed her lips. “I know.”
It made me laugh and a small bit of envy went through me at her confidence. She was so sure of herself, who she was and what she liked that she dominated a room. It also helped because she was one of the most selfless people I knew. “It’s been a while, how you been?”
“Dealing with Aaron and the upcoming draft, graduation and finding a job that could be thousands of miles away from where he ends up. So, you know, nothing really.” She shrugged, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Damn, that’s a lot.”
“It’s what it is. We knew this from day one, so it’s not a surprise. Gotta admit, it’s harder than I thought it would be. I can’t show weakness, or he’ll lose it.”
And I’m worried about petty shit with my mom. My worries paled in comparison and I hoped I gave her an empathetic smile. “I have no doubt you two will make it work. Might be messy, but you’ll get there.”
The dark look left her face and her signature toothy smile came back. “I knew I liked you. Let me grab that drink for you.”
That left me alone at the booth just as Aaron Hill and Jeff Maddow walked in.
It was stupid how my pulse sped up at the mere sight of Jeff.
His fitted jacket and jeans showcased how strong he was and while I was without a doubt attracted to him, I’d lost a little bit of my crush.
He’d already pegged me for someone I was trying not to be and I wasn’t about to try and change his mind. No boy was worth that.
Shit. He looked my way.
I adjusted my hair to cover my face and pulled out my phone to check…
the weather or something, but the heavy footsteps forced me to look up.
Jeff had a killer smile, one that made me feel like he was laughing at me rather than with me, and I hated the insecurity plaguing me.
Is my denim shirt too tight? I reached to my side to make sure it was tucked into my black jeans and sighed when it was still intact.
He still hadn’t said anything so I tilted my head. “Hey?”
“Have you always had hair this long?” He gestured to my curly black hair spilling down my chest, past my boobs, and I nodded. “Huh. Never noticed.”
“Not sure why you would.” What else was I supposed to say? This is so awkward. Speak. Say something. “Grabbing a beer with Aaron?”
“Yup. We had a bitch of a hitting session and need a beer to recover.” He stepped closer and looked over his shoulder before a serious expression crossed his face. “I brought up Max to our hitting coach today, to see if he remembered him?—”
“Henderson,” Hilly greeted me. He often did that, just my last name. I nodded to him and he took that as an invitation to sit down in the bench across from me. “Care if we join you?”
“Laney’s joining me soon but sure.”
“Thanks. I like sitting in booths that are almost full so people don’t feel entitled to join us, you know? This goddamn draft is hovering over us. Jeff is the only one not freaking out about it.”
Jeff’s only response was a wrinkle between his eyebrows. I didn’t scoot farther inside, hoping he’d get the hint to sit with Aaron, but he didn’t. He plopped down next to me, our legs briefly touching before I repositioned myself. “Mind if I sit here?”
“You didn’t give me a choice,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.
I wanted to hear the rest of his story, but there would be no way until Aaron left us.
He’d made that part clear—making sure no one would ever find out about the investigation…
definitely not his teammates. “The draft has to be exciting, though, right? Terrifying, I’m sure, but how exciting you all get to be a part of it.
Thousands of players never get that chance. ”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Aaron said, rubbing his hands over his eyes, but as soon as he looked up, his entire face softened into a sickly-sweet expression. “Hey, G.”
“Ronnie,” Greta replied just as she set down my steaming cup of coffee. She moved to sit on his lap for a second and the entire thing caused an unwelcome pang near my heart. It wasn’t jealousy. I remembered what they’d gone through and why. It was…a longing for something that might never be mine.
“Fighting a hangover or something?” Jeff asked, pointing to the white mug with a large chip on the side. “Or are you one of those people who can drink coffee any hour?”
“I’m not hungover, no. Coffee is my choice of drink when I want to relax.”
“Doesn’t work like that. You should have a beer.”
“I’m good.” I gave a tight smile, hoping he’d drop it, but Greta and Aaron’s conversation stopped and she chimed in.
“It’s admirable to stop drinking for a bit. It’d probably do us all good to cleanse the binge-drinking from our system. Lord knows I could.” She giggled at the end and abruptly stood up. “Shit, my boss is looking for me. I gotta get back.”
Aaron watched her walk away with a pining in his eyes and it felt so intimate that it almost felt wrong observing it. Will anyone look at me that way?