Chapter Fourteen Lacey
Chapter Fourteen
Lacey
After the football game, I lose Vaughn in the shuffle of the crowd leaving and the players heading off to the locker rooms. Frost Lake lost, and the mood is glum as people walk toward their cars.
The squad packs up quickly. I send them all home before I remember I still need to take the signs down from along the fence.
I groan and drop my duffel to the ground, but when I scan the fence, half are already gone. Then I spot the source. Vaughn stands at the fifty-yard line, removing tape that holds the large poster board along the chain-link fence.
My stomach flips at the sight of him, and I ignore the quickening of my heartbeat that seems to signal I’m more excited to see him than I should be.
Nope, nope. Not getting fooled by him again.
He blew me off the first time someone more important than me needed something.
I thought we were becoming friends, but he just needs me to pass algebra.
A week ago, that wouldn’t have hurt my feelings so much.
As I approach him, he glances up.
“Thank you,” I say as he removes the sign and sets it on the ground in a stack with the others he’s already taken down.
“It’s the least I could do. You’ve been so great to me, even when you didn’t want to be.” A small playful smile quirks up one side of his mouth as he meets my gaze for only a second before he starts removing the next sign.
We work together for the next few minutes until the signs are down and the field is empty.
I take the stack from him and carefully roll them up so I can slide a big rubber band around them to store for the next game.
Without asking, he walks with me to the large equipment bag, and he hefts it up on one shoulder and follows me into the women’s locker room where he sets it, much more carefully than I ever could, into the storage closet.
“Thank you,” I say again.
When we exit the locker room, the lights are out on the field.
“Do you usually set up and tear down on your own?” he asks.
“I don’t mind.”
He doesn’t seem to believe me, judging by the surprised expression on his face.
“I wanted to be captain for so long. Now that I am, I’m not about to complain about the responsibilities that fall on my shoulders because of it.”
His surprise morphs to understanding. “I get that.”
“You do?”
“Sure. You want to make sure your teammates have everything they need at all times. If you take on more, they can focus on the things that matter most.”
“Exactly,” I say, feeling relief that he gets it.
“There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re taking care of everyone else, and no one has your back.”
I open my mouth to protest, but no words come out.
“You shouldn’t be staying late at the field by yourself and attempting to carry fifty-pound bags of equipment on your own just because you don’t want to inconvenience your teammates.”
“Says the guy who gets to the soccer field before the rest of his teammates and always stays later.” Maybe he thinks I haven’t noticed, but I have.
“I didn’t say I was perfect at it.” He flashes a wide smile that makes my stomach flip. “People want to feel useful. If you can delegate the tasks across the team, then everyone feels like they’re a key player…er, cheerleader.”
I let out a small laugh.
His smile turns into a lopsided grin. “Anyway, that’s just been my experience. Take it for what it’s worth.”
“It’s worth a lot, actually.”
In the parking lot, our steps slow.
“How are you feeling about the test?” I ask. Throughout the game I was able to sneak up a few times each quarter to check in on him. He worked through my study guide and even did more problems on his own.
“Good,” he says, then frowns as if he’s surprised by the answer. “I mean, I think I’ll be ready. I finally understand complex numbers now. Thanks to you.”
“You will be,” I assure him. “You can do this. You have another day to review, but you know the material. Take your time and double-check your work after you finish each problem, but you are going to ace that test.”
His head tilts to the side as he stops next to his SUV. “Acing it might be far-fetched. I’ll settle for passing.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Collins. You’re a smart guy.”
His stare drops to my mouth and slowly lifts. My skin heats, and my pulse picks up speed again.
I’m just about to say goodbye and put some much-needed, head-clarifying distance between us when Vaughn says, “I liked the new routine. Did you choreograph it yourself?”
“I did,” I say slowly, surprised by the compliment and the question.
“You’re good at it.”
“Do you know a lot of cheerleading choreography?”
“I know what’s entertaining to watch and what isn’t.”
Fair point, I guess.
“Take the compliment, Lace.”
I don’t think he’s ever called me anything but Lacey before. And sure, dropping the y isn’t that creative as far as nicknames, but coming from Vaughn, it feels huge.
A small laugh slips from my lips as my face flushes. “Thank you.”
“You did gymnastics as a kid, right?”
I nod. Each question about me and my life is more confusing. Are we friends or not? He keeps blurring the lines, and I’m not sure what’s what anymore.
“And dance?”
“A little. I was more into gymnastics. I thought I was going to the Olympics someday. Then I discovered cheerleading.”
His smile splits and lifts higher at the corners. Vaughn has a really great smile. It’s sort of a pity that he doesn’t use it more often, but maybe that’s what makes it feel so special.
“Did you ever do any other sports besides soccer?” I ask him.
“Not really.” He shakes his head. “I played basketball a bit, but I wasn’t very good.”
“I doubt that’s true.” He has a natural athleticism about him that I would bet transfers to most sports.
“There’s something about playing outside, even in the cold, that I always preferred over indoor sports.” He lifts his chin and stares up at the sky. Sometimes I think Vaughn is a lot deeper than people give him credit for.
His gaze drops, and we’re back to staring at each other.
Something has shifted between us again, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
We’re not friends. Not really. But I like being around him more than just about anyone else.
Top three, for sure. But when he passes his test, because he will, then what?
“How’s your bucket list coming along?” he asks as he leans against his SUV.
I guess we’re going to keep standing in the dark parking lot and chatting. I’m not complaining. It’s nice. Confusing, but nice.
“Good,” I say, feeling a little protective of it. If he laughs or says it’s stupid, I’ll have to go back to hating him.
“Can I see it?”
“Why?”
“Because I only saw a bit of it and I’m curious what else is on there besides skinny-dipping,” he says simply. Then he adds, “Maybe I want to make one of my own.”
I shake my head, face heating. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“Oh, come on. It can’t be more humiliating than the whole school knowing you failed algebra.”
“Dr. Frievalt is hard. Lots of people are failing.”
“Or letting the smartest, prettiest girl in school see how dumb you are because you need her to tutor you.”
Did he just call me the smartest and prettiest girl in school? My heart is racing, and I feel unsteady on my feet. And I’m certain I’m blushing. “You aren’t dumb.”
“And you shouldn’t be embarrassed about a list of things you want to do for your mom.”
He’s right. I know he is, but my fingers still shake as I unzip my bag and pull out the folder with my list tucked inside. I can’t bear to see it, so I hand him the entire folder. He steps forward and opens it. While he scans the paper, I shift uncomfortably in front of him, staring at the ground.
He says nothing for several long moments, then shuts the folder and hands it back to me. I swallow around a lump in my throat. If he mentions the last item on the list, I’ll die of embarrassment right here.
“You want to honor her memory and know her better. I get it. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“It does?”
His blond head nods. “Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing in your shoes.”
Emotion clogs my throat at how perfectly and concisely he summed it up.
“You would make a bucket list?”
“Maybe not as official or sparkly as that one, but sure. There are lots of things I want to do but haven’t yet.”
“Like what?” I ask before I can stop myself. Vaughn walks around like he’s doing exactly what he wants, when he wants to do it, at all times. I can’t picture him doing a single thing on my list. Except…maybe skinny-dipping. My face is officially on fire as I push the visual away.
“I don’t know.” He looks uncomfortable now that I’ve put him on the spot. “I’ve never been to a major league baseball game.”
A small laugh slips from my lips. One side of his mouth quirks up while I try to contain my outburst.
“My dad hates baseball, but I always thought it might be kind of fun to go in person,” he explains.
I nod, still smiling, but my laughter is under control.
“Have you ever been to a baseball game?” he asks.
“Yeah. Once a few years ago.”
A burst of wind blows through the parking lot, and I huddle into myself, shivering.
“I guess I should let you get home,” Vaughn says, sounding as reluctant as I feel.
I tuck the folder back into my bag and step toward my Bronco.
He moves with me and opens my door for me. Pausing, I stare into his dark blue eyes. Those tiny flecks of silver shine in the moonlight.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He watches me as I get into my vehicle and start it before he backs away to his Range Rover.
My heart races the whole way home.