Chapter Twenty-five Lacey
Chapter Twenty-five
Lacey
The day of regionals, the school is swarming with anticipation and excitement. The cheerleaders put up posters this morning, and I’d like to think they helped bolster the mood.
By midmorning, even the teachers are feeling restless, and classes are spent doing very little work.
I live for this type of hype. Maybe I would be just as giddy if it were the football team instead of the soccer team, but there’s no question that part of my excitement has to do with a certain soccer player.
Speaking of, I haven’t talked to him all day. The team had a meeting this morning before school, and I only got to say hello for a minute in passing between classes.
I’m looking forward to finally seeing him at lunchtime, but fifteen minutes after I sit down with my food, he still hasn’t appeared.
Neither has Rowan, so I assume they’re doing something with the team, or at least part of it. I’m lost in my own thoughts as I play the part of fifth wheel. Brandon and Andie are looking at animal videos on Brandon’s phone and Claire and Austin are being disgustingly cute as usual.
Some of the soccer girlfriends made T-shirts with their boyfriend’s name and number on the back. I can’t help but feel a little twinge of jealousy wishing I were wearing one too. Not that I want to be Vaughn’s girlfriend. Or maybe I do.
All week I’ve been trying to organize my feelings.
I like him, but is he even looking for a girlfriend?
He was pretty adamant that he wasn’t before we started kissing on the regular.
Has that changed? And if it hasn’t, would I be okay with that?
My immediate response is yes, but maybe I’m just in a best kisses of my life haze.
I pick at the food on my tray and glance around the cafeteria. I know he isn’t here, but I look for him anyway.
When Claire looks up at me, she narrows her gaze.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just bored. And this hamburger doesn’t taste right.”
“Where’s Vaughn?” Claire asks, as if she’s just realized he isn’t here.
“I’m not sure,” I admit and eat one of the cold fries on my plate.
“He and some of the other guys are watching video of Pacific,” Austin says. “We’ll play them in the semifinals if we win tonight.”
“When you win.” Claire bumps her shoulder against his.
He snuggles up closer to her, kissing her quickly before one of the teachers catches them and gives them a warning or detention.
“Why aren’t you there?” I ask Austin.
He shrugs one shoulder. “I need a break from thinking about soccer. Last night I even dreamed about it.”
Despite his best attempts to put it out of his mind, his leg bounces nervously and I can practically see the anxious, excited energy coming off him.
When the bell rings, Claire hangs back to walk with me.
She gives me one of those best-friend looks that sees far more than you’d like. “Can I give you some advice?”
“About what?” I ask.
“Vaughn.”
We stop walking, and I face her. My stomach flutters nervously as I wait for her to speak.
“His actions don’t always match his feelings.”
“Okay.” My brows pinch together as I consider her words.
“What I mean is just because he didn’t come to lunch today doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. He feels a lot of pressure to be the guy his teammates and dad can depend on.”
“We’re not together. He doesn’t owe me anything,” I say quickly.
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know they aren’t quite right.
We aren’t an official couple, but I like him.
Pretending like I don’t care that I haven’t talked to him all day is dumb.
It doesn’t mean he’s in the wrong, but I can’t change how I feel.
Claire’s expression reinforces my thoughts.
“Okay, I’m disappointed I can’t show up for him the same way you do for Austin, but that’s just who I am.”
“Who says you can’t?”
I shake my head adamantly. “He doesn’t want that.”
Hasn’t he said several times how bad he is at being a boyfriend and how he doesn’t want to be that guy again?
He’s also spent so much time and thought helping me check things off my mom’s list: taking me to pick apples, doing something scary with me, kissing me under the stars, and volunteering with me at the shelter.
Claire tilts her head to the side, searching my face. “Are you sure?”
I bite at the corner of my lip. “No, but today is not the day to be wrong. His focus is on the team.” Exactly where it should be. The more I talk it out, the more I realize how silly I’m being for feeling disappointed.
“If I’ve learned anything over the past year about myself and relationships, it’s that making myself try to feel or be someone I’m not always leads to disaster.
You show up for people in big ways. You do for me, your friends, for your squad, your dad…
The list goes on. It’s who you are. It doesn’t matter if you and Vaughn are dating or friends who make out sometimes.
If he doesn’t appreciate how you move in the world, then he isn’t someone you need to hold space for in your life.
” She finishes with a stern look that leaves no room for argument.
My pulse has picked up speed as her words strike a chord. “Damn. That’s quite a pep talk.”
“Thank you.” She beams proudly, and then we continue our walk toward our lockers.
But as quickly as I consider the possibility of talking to Vaughn about how I’m feeling, my courage wanes.
“I hear what you’re saying, but it feels so new. I don’t want to freak him out.” I mean, I’m freaked out, so he has to be too.
Claire nods her agreement. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Plus, I really like making out with him.” Even if it doesn’t go anywhere else, I’m not sure I’m ready to give that up yet.
She giggles as I sigh dreamily.
“Still not weird?” I ask.
She thinks for a moment. “Nope. Permission to keep making out.”
* * *
I continue to mull over her words in fifth period and in sixth.
Sometime over the course of the last few weeks, Vaughn has become someone I want in my life.
It is more than enjoying his company. Even when we aren’t studying or making out, though I really, really enjoy the latter.
He listens to me when I talk about my mom, he asks questions about what I am thinking and feeling, and I’ve found I want to know more about him and how his brain works too.
I care about him and what happens to him.
Whatever we are, I know that he’s someone I want to show up for. Just like Claire said.
I likely won’t see him after school or before the game, so I hurry after class to Vaughn’s locker.
He’s already there, closing his locker with his stuff for last period. All the soccer team wore their blue warm-up shirts today. Vaughn is in his with black joggers, and the serious expression on his face tells me everything about his focus.
He pauses when he spots me approaching him.
“Hi,” I say tentatively.
His features smooth out and a smile pulls at one side of his mouth. “Hey.”
My stomach dips like it always seems to do around him. The more often we kiss, the more my body seems to react this way around him. I never thought I’d be someone who did casual hookups, but that was before I knew how fun they could be.
“Ready for tonight?” I ask.
A little of that seriousness sneaks back into his expression. “Definitely. Are you coming to the game?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good.” His lips curve up into a bigger smile. “Cheer loudest for me.”
“You got it.” I glance at his mouth. I really wish I could kiss him right now.
“I have something for you.” I pull out the mini pom-pom key chain and hold it out to him.
For a second, I worry he thinks it’s dumb or crosses some imaginary line of this friends who make out thing we have going, but as his fingers close around it, a wide smile stretches out across his face.
“The pom-pom from your backpack?”
“I got it the day I found out I was cheer captain. Hopefully it’ll bring you luck too.”
He stares down at it with a look that’s a mixture of excitement and awe.
“I love it.” He closes his fingers around it. “Thanks, Lacey.”
“You’re welcome.”
He walks toward class, and I start to my locker. A light touch on my upper arm has me swiveling around. Vaughn stands behind me.
“Hey.” I give him a quizzical look.
“Can we hang out after the game?” he asks.
My stomach does its usual somersaults in his presence.
“Won’t the team go to Doyle’s?” I ask.
“Probably. I’m not sure.”
The idea that he wants to spend time with me instead of his teammates isn’t lost on me, but I have a feeling he’ll want to be part of the celebration when they win.
“I’ll meet you there,” I tell him. “Good luck!”