Chapter Six

I wake up feeling a little lighter than most days. Like I do

most Tuesdays and Thursdays. Because today I tutor Rory after

school, and so I know I have some alone time with her to look

forward to. As much as it sucks to pretend I don't want more, I'd

be lying if I said I wasn't grateful for every minute I get with

her. And it gives me an opportunity twice a week, while tutoring

her in a subject she detests, to gauge how she's doing.

Next week will be the

final exam, and so this is probably one of the last tutoring

sessions we'll have, if not the last. The truth is she's pretty

caught up on the coursework, so while I could probably swing

talking her into one more session just to be safe, it won't be more

than the one.

With the end of the year

approaching, there's a cloud of uncertainty hanging over me,

casting an ominous shade on everything I do. I see her around, of

course, but rarely alone. And as just

friends, without a legitimate excuse to

get together just the two of us, I fear I'm going to lose these

opportunities for good.

Lately she's seemed a bit

better. Ever since that God-awful brunch. Not all better, of

course, but better than she's been since Miami. Except she's still

so damn tired all the time, and it drives me crazy.

I jog through the double

doors that lead out the gymnasium wing and down the concrete steps

to the student lot. Tucker and Dave are already chatting by my

truck and I greet them each with our standard handshake.

"'Sup, bro," Dave says in

greeting. He's not actually asking me what's up, just saying hello.

I nod in return just as the rest of the boys join us.

"Pizza?" Luke asks. He and

Marshall always want pizza.

I look to Tuck, silently

asking him what only he knows will decide where I'm going to eat

lunch.

"Girls want to meet at the

diner," he replies.

I nod, tell Luke and

Marshall that I'm going with Tuck and Andy, and they shrug and head

on their way. Dave comes with us, too, and they climb into my car.

I see Carl and Tina by Carl's car, waiting on Rory, who always

takes an extra couple of minutes taking the long way around the

outside of the building to avoid walking by the locker rooms. If my

last class wasn't on the exact opposite side of the building, I'd

go out of my way to walk her every day.

I wait to get into my car

until I see her joining her friends. I want to wait even more, to

see if she seeks me out, makes eye contact, maybe even gives me

that sweet smile of hers, but I don't. I have to play the

game.

Just friends.

And so I drive my boys to

the diner and pretend like hearing the girls will be meeting us for

lunch didn't just brighten my day even further, and as I sit in the

booth, pretend I'm not carefully positioning myself to sit next to

her. It's a farce that at least Tuck, and probably Dave and Andy,

see right through, but they don't say a word.

The girls arrive and I get

up to let Tina and Carl sit next to their guys. Rory makes her way

over to my side of the booth to sit next to me as planned, and her

lips slide up into a small, sincere smile. I watch her face with

greed, and my eyes inexorably skate over her tight ass as she bends

to scoot in next to me. I can't pull them away, so I shut them

instead, for the barest of moments, before I grab a menu and

pretend to look over offerings I've long memorized in an attempt to

disguise my longing.

Dave and Tuck start

arguing about the Knicks, who are actually in the playoffs this

season, and I take advantage of the distraction and take another

survey of Rory. I watch as she stifles a yawn, grinding her teeth

together to quash it. But the scrunch of her eyes, they way they

water slightly, gives her away.

I lean down to her ear, I

can't help it. "You okay?" I ask.

She doesn't turn to me. I

guess she's used to me whispering words for her ears only. Instead

she bites her lip, telling me that whatever she answers, it won't

be the whole truth. She's not a liar, but she does rationalize

half-truths to herself, and put enough half-truths together, and

you have total bullshit.

"Yeah, fine, why?" Her

tone is meant to be light, blasé. But it rings false to me, and I'm

pretty sure that I wouldn't have believed her even if I hadn't seen

her bite her lip.

I don't call her out on

it, though. What would I possibly say?

"You just seem… tired," I

make an attempt.

She's not surprised by my

words, and I half think she was expecting them. She swallows

anxiously though, and I think that maybe she'd been worried I'd

notice.

She fakes an ironic

chuckle. "I'm always tired, Sam," she murmurs. No one else at the

table is remotely interested in our conversation, all engrossed in

their own. Either way, only I know why Rory is always tired. Only I

know about her nightmares. And it fucking kills me. Knowing I can't

protect her from them.

Fuck that. I

can protect her from

them. I did protect her from them, in Miami. And a small part of me even

resents her a little that by breaking up with me, she took that

right from me. And the worst part is—she's the one suffering for

it. Because I can handle my own suffering. It fucking sucks, but if

it's what she wants, then it's what I'll give her. But watching her

yawn for the third time since we sat down fifteen minutes ago, and

seeing the sorrow in her eyes… it fucking destroys me. Whatever is

left of me, anyway.

She barely picks at her

grilled cheese sandwich, maybe eats one and a half french fries.

When she yawns again not another ten minutes later, this time

unable to even try to suppress it, I narrow my eyes at her. She

blinks away from me, swallowing nervously again, or maybe it was

another stifled yawn, who even knows anymore?

I lick my lips

unconsciously, still leaned into her, itching to say something to

her, to tell her she needs to get some fucking sleep, to accuse her

lying to me about how she's been doing.

But I say none of these

things. I can't. Not in front of half of our friends. They're

starting to gain interest in our conversation just from the way I'm

glaring at her, and so I turn my attention to my burger. A minute

later and everyone is talking about some bar we're going to the

night before Senior Sleep-In next Friday.

I glance at Rory's plate

and notice she's barely made it on to french fry number three. I

nudge her lightly with my elbow, and nod my chin at her

plate.

Fucking eat.

She picks up the grilled

cheese and takes a small bite, exaggerating her chewing for my

benefit. I smile, subtly nodding my approval.

That's it, baby

girl, I think to myself when she takes a

second bite, bigger the first. I can call her what I want in my

head, and I do. It makes all of this the smallest bit more

bearable.

We talk about some events

coming up, including prom, which Andy, Tucker, and their girls are

looking forward to, but that's about it. To be completely honest, I

don't even want to go. But my friends would never let me out of it,

and it's easier to just go along with it. It's just one

night.

Chelsea has hinted that

she'd like to go as friends, but so far I've played dumb to her

subtly. I honestly probably won't take her either way, but it's

hard to even think about her, to consider her, when I can't think

of anything other than the possibility of taking Rory.

That is the one thing that

would make that night not fucking suck.

But I don't know if she's

up for something like that right now. A month ago I would have said

she was. But that motherfucking bastard…

Anyway, something tells me

that now she might not be open to going with me, even as a friend.

She would probably see it as crossing the line of friendship either

way, and wouldn't want to blur those lines. And fuck am I scared to push

her.

I glance over at her

again, and am pleased as fucking pie to see that she's finished

half her grilled cheese and more than half of her fries. I don't

bother hiding my smile. If any of my friends notice the lift in my

mood, they don't show it. Rory doesn't notice a damn thing, she's

too fucking exhausted to function, but at least she ate

something.

I remember that Carl drove

them to lunch, and am grateful that Rory's not driving. I'd hate to

start a fight by insisting she hand her keys over to

Carl.

We walk them to their car

and Dave follows along. Tucker kisses Carl through the driver's

window as I help Rory into the backseat. She gives me a curious

look, acting like she doesn't need my help, but she practically

stumbles into the seat. I grimace. She really needs to get some

motherfucking sleep.

When there is nothing more

I can do without making a scene of one kind or another, I

reluctantly close the door and step back from Carl's A4.

I keep my eyes open when

we pull back into the student lot. We left just after the girls,

but only we got stuck at that damn red light on Branch Road, and

their car is already parked, Carl and Tina heading up the steps and

back into the building. But Rory's not with them. She wouldn't be,

of course, and I scan the perimeter of the building in search of

her, but she's nowhere in sight.

There's no way she could

have made it around the corner of the building so quickly, and I

cut the engine and jump out of the car before my boys can even

unbuckle their seatbelts. I catch up to Carl and Tina at the double

doors.

"Where's Rory?" I

demand.

Carl gives me a look,

telling me she thinks I'm overreacting. But I don't give half a

shit.

I raise my eyebrows,

waiting with thinly veiled impatience until Carl rolls her eyes and

sighs.

"Relax, Cap. She just had

to get something from her car."

I don't wait. I turn and

scan the lot for her jeep. I don't know why I'm suddenly overcome

with the threat of panic. Somehow I know that Rory's story about

getting something from her car is bullshit. It's another one of her

half-truths, I know it. She may have gone to her car, but I have

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