The Cheerleader

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bryan

By the time I get back to the apartment, hitching a ride with a freshman on the defensive line after walking half the way, I’m not surprised to find the party already started. I stayed for some ice and extra PT at Al’s recommendation.

“Man, there’s nowhere to park,”

the freshman says. “You want to get out here and I’ll drive down the street to find a space?”

He pulls up at the end of the driveway and stops, waiting for me to get out.

I look at him, surprised and feeling a little uncomfortable that he feels obligated to be my chauffeur. It’s true there’s a hierarchy on college football teams. In spite of all the team-bonding and all-for-one bullshit, the freshmen are still at the bottom, and seniors are still in charge. Add to that, the acknowledged star performers rise above everyone.

It’s not something I like or subscribe to, not something I take advantage of, but it’s ingrained in the nature of competitive sports. When we’re not competing against other teams, we’re competing against each other, but less obviously.

None of that makes it okay to take advantage of this freshman whose name I don’t know, but the sense of urgency to get inside when I spot Liz’s car trumps my sense of fairness and decency because it means Susie is here. And my obsession with her drives me like nothing else, except football.

“Thanks. That’s decent of you. What’s your name?”

“Zed.”

“I owe you, Zed. See you inside.”

He grins, pleased and surprised. “Sure. No problem. Happy to help.”

I’m already out of the car before he finishes gushing, feeling ashamed for the small violation of my integrity, but only for a split second as I trot past several people and push inside the front door. There’s already a wall of people to get through, but as they recognize me, I get a pass and glide through the claps on my back, the smiles, the cheers and whistles of congratulations on the way to my room.

When I get there, I pull my jacket off then search my closet for my only T-shirt that’s not worn out and faded. The one my older brother gave me, a Jimi Hendrix tee. He brought it back from Woodstock. I’ve never worn it.

My hand shakes when I reach for it, but I stop and fist it up. Closing my eyes, I take command of my emotions, bottling them back up. It’s just a fucking shirt. Grabbing it off the shelf, I slip it on.

Feeling like I just made it to the top of Mount Everest, I adjust the shirt and look around the room. It’s bare and neat. Nothing out of order, bed made. Or rather, mattress on the floor made. My chest tightens, and then I bark out a laugh.

What the fuck am I worried about? Do I suddenly need to impress her? She knows I’m a poor farmer. I clench my jaw, feeling the defiance spike my adrenaline and make my heart hammer with purpose.

For now, I’m a poor farmer.

Maybe forever. My sick conscience taunts me. “Fuck that,”

I say out loud as I fling open my door and storm down the hallway to find Susie.

Noise rises, and the stench of beer and sweaty bodies permeates the air as I reach the kitchen. Scanning the room, I spot Susie about to take a shot of Jack Daniels with some of the guys, including Eldy and Mack. My response is visceral and violent as I plow through the room straight for her.

Without thinking, I take the bottle away from her. “I thought you weren’t a drinker.”

Still running on whatever primal instincts have a hold on me, I lean in close. “I have something way better than whiskey for you to swallow.”

She goes instantly crimson and shoots her eyes at mine so that I feel them pierce me like arrows.

“You have no right to talk to me that way.”

Her voice is tight and quiet, and I hear her, but I’m not behaving.

“I didn’t realize you were a virgin.”

“Have you been drinking?”

It sounds like a real question.

“No. Are you a virgin?”

Shit. I drag her away from the others with a look at Eldy that dares him to say a word. But he only grins as Susie lets me take her out the back door.

“I’m not a virgin.”

I can hear the unspoken but in her voice as she looks around, anywhere except at me. We’re surrounded by people, and I have a need to get away, so I take her hand and pull her toward the tree line where it’s dark and I don’t see any people.

“But?”

She finally looks at me. “Where are you taking me?”

“Answer my question.”

We’re standing still, and the buzz of noise is distant now. She gives me a blank look as if she’s forgotten the question. That’s not likely, but I remind her.

“You’re not a virgin, but…”

“But it’s none of your business.”

She glares at me. “And wipe that smug smile off your face.”

I laugh, and then I wrap her in my arms, unable to resist. “I knew you weren’t a virgin.”

“How? I didn’t tell you.”

“No.”

“Then how?”

“Sixth sense. I understand girls.”

“If you did, you would refer to us as women.”

I nod, an unreasonable spark of awareness lighting me up all over the place, and my heart drums like King Kong is hammering at my chest wall to get out.

“Come with me.”

I take her by the hand and lead her around to the front door and push past the crowd of people who all seem to have something to say to me, none of it important.

She whisper-shouts in my ear, “I’m not going to your room.”

There’s a shake of nerves and something else far more interesting in her voice, sounding a lot like excitement. I glance around to find Eldy watching and nod at him as I tug on her hand and she follows me to the hall that leads to my room. He got the message that I want privacy, to make sure no one bothers us.

When we get to my room, I close the door behind us, and she immediately pulls away from me, standing as far away as she can get in the small room.

Darting her eyes around the space, only lit by moonlight and stars because I purposely didn’t put the light on, she finally meets my eyes.

“You don’t believe in furniture much, do you?”

“I have what I need.”

I can’t afford any more even if I needed it, but I don’t taunt her with that information. I have a better idea of what I want to taunt her with.

Closing the distance between us, I pull her in close to me and wrap my arms around her, resting my palms on her world-class rear. Her eyes go wide, and I notice a tremor in her mouth, but it has nothing to do with fear. I know that for certain as I hold her gaze.

“I’m going to kiss you, not a quick taste or a sample like before, but a real, deep all-in kiss the way I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you on the football field for the first time since we were kids.”

Her eyes flutter closed as I lower my mouth to hers and brush my lips over them, then press, tasting, nibbling the tender, moist underside of her lower lip and licking my tongue over it, feeling the vulnerability, sucking it into my mouth.

A moan escapes her, and her hands slide up my chest and wrap around the back of my neck as she opens up, plunging her tongue inside my mouth to mingle with mine, tasting sweet and like whiskey, dangerous and forbidden.

I’m hard as granite against her, my mind spinning with the kind of pleasure I’ve never felt before, the kind of anticipation I’ve only felt in my dreams. Of her. Pulling her with me, my mouth taking control, ravaging hers, drinking her in like I’m about to die of thirst if I don’t. With an uncontrollable need, I back up to my bed and drag her down on top of me.

As she falls against me, the satisfying give of her body against mine sends me to another level of need, a very dangerous place I don’t remember ever being. My hands shake as I roll us onto our sides.

She pushes her hands against my chest, separating us and ending the kiss. Her breath is quick, and her lips are plump and juicy, ravaged-looking. I stare at them, wanting more. My breathing is ragged and blood is raging as I reach for her, needing to keep her with me.

“What are you doing, Bryan?”

Her words are breathless, and her eyes are pleading and wanton. “I mean, what are we doing—I can’t blame this entirely on you.”

“We’re kissing?—”

“But we can’t.”

“Yes, we can. We’re adults and we’re attracted?—”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

She stops, and I don’t ask her to explain. I just wait.

She drags in a deep breath as if the air is too thick. Maybe it is because all I can feel or breathe or smell is the sensual tension surrounding us. We’re submerged in it, and I don’t know if I could escape if I wanted to.

The idea of being so out of control should scare me, but I might be far enough gone that I don’t care.

“You’re too…”

She licks her lips. “Dangerous.”

The accusation doesn’t bother me. It might even flatter me. I loosen my hold on her and put more space between us, waiting for more as I concentrate on slowing my raging blood and heat in my veins, telling myself I need to be patient. She’s worth whatever price she wants to extract.

“We need to talk, Bryan.”

“Then talk to me, Susie.”

I listen as I lean back in and nibble at her earlobe until she makes a half-hearted effort to stop me.

“You taste like sin,”

I say. “Maybe that makes us a matched pair.”

“No.”

She pushes her hands, and I back off, not because she’s strong enough to stop me, but because I’m sane enough to know better, and still in control even underneath all the layers of pent-up need pushing me for release.

“Maybe you’re not who I thought you were.”

There’s a hint of anger in her voice, and that takes me aback as much as her words.

“Who did you think I was?”

I already know.

“Someone who needed me, who appreciated and understood me. Someone with heart-breaking self-discipline and loyalty and selflessness?—”

“Don’t go breaking your heart. There’s nothing about me that’s worth that.”

Her eyes soften immediately, and I feel the tug of a whole different need pulling at me now, overwhelming the sensual pull, making my carnal cravings seem small by comparison.

She reaches up and cups my cheek, and the tenderness in her face and her movements collapse all the extraneous thoughts, desires, and defenses I have, bringing down everything, including my self-discipline and my self-control, until she holds my very soul in her hands.

“What do you want?”

I ask because I will give it to her. Anything. Everything. The same way she wanted to give everything to me that first day we met, when I was too vulnerable to ignore her, too needy to forget her. Not even all the self-discipline or baggage of the years since that day could erase the hope she gave me.

“I want you. All of you. Heart and soul.”

She looks at me like she’s unsure, as if she really doesn’t know how she affects me.

I laugh, almost derisively. But not. My voice is shaky when I speak. “You’ve always had me.”

I don’t say more. I’m completely bare, completely empty of words and emotions because she has them all.

“You never talked about that day… when you were hurt and bleeding in the ditch. You never told me how you got there, what happened to you. Who did?—”

“Are you asking?”

I hope to hell she’s not, because I’ll have to tell her. And I don’t want her to know. It’s Liz’s story to tell.

But if I have to choose between loyalty to Liz and everything I feel about Susie?—

“Only if you want to tell me. I would never force you if you don’t feel comfortable.”

I gulp down the spasm of emotion that makes me want to roar at the knowledge that she’s better than I give her credit for, better than I’ve imagined. That she’s not imaginary; she’s real and here.

I’ve never told anyone the truth about what happened that day…but suddenly I want Susie to know.

“I’d gone to Liz’s house that day. She called me.”

My chest tightens, but I say the words without trouble. “I ran into her old man when I got there.”

Her eyes flare, and I see understanding, grateful that no more words are necessary. I kiss her compassionate eyes, one at a time, as her lashes flutter against my lips, sinking me in that fathomless understanding.

She opens her eyes. “I never met him. She never wanted me to meet her father.”

There’s a crack of pain and remorse in her words. “She was protective of me… except for one night. She called; it was cold and dark in December, and Mom was going Christmas shopping. She agreed to pick up Liz on the way, but when she did, Liz said she hadn’t eaten and asked if we could be dropped off at the pizza place on Main Street. You know the one?”

Shit. I nod. My gut twists because I do know the one she means, but I keep my cool and listen.

“My mother was reluctant, but she dropped us off and said she’d be back in an hour. I followed Liz inside and then down some back stairs. I had no idea there was a bar next door. There was an entrance in the back of the building next to the pizza place, but I never knew about it. There were no signs. Did you?—”

“Yes.”

The one word comes out in a rasp. I don’t say more. My chest is tight, and I’m taking shallow breaths, forcing myself to stay calm and patient, telling myself she and Liz are okay. This happened a long time ago.

“I tried to get her to go back to the pizza place the minute we walked into the bar because it smelled so strongly of stale beer and… something else bad.”

Sweat. The permanent stench of sweaty old men is imbedded in the place. I hold her tighter, trying not to picture them in that place at fourteen years old. I don’t want to hear it, but I need to know, to understand.

Brushing a strand of hair from her face, I take a deep breath and remain calm. “Go on.”

“Your hand is shaking. It’s okay?—”

I snatch my hand away from her face and slip it around her back. “I need to hear your story.”

My words are measured, and I manage to keep the fear and urgency from overwhelming me.

“Good, because I need to tell it. I… I’ve never told anyone.”

I pull her in tighter and breathe her scent, overwhelmed with a different emotion, not fear. Though the intensity makes my heart stammer so hard maybe I should be afraid. Whatever I’m feeling is new to me, and so good I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to let her go.

“There were men, old men, sitting at rickety tables drinking and at a small bar. I stuck to Liz, horrified, curious, and puzzled because she seemed to know the place. Then, as she walked by one leathery old man with a mean face, he grabbed her. I screamed and got everyone’s attention. The other men laughed. The bartender asked Liz what she was up to and said her old man wasn’t in here tonight. She knew the man who grabbed her and argued with him to leave her alone. No one did a thing, so I ran back to the pizza place and got the cook to help. He extricated Liz from the old man, who tossed his beer at us as we were leaving.”

She stops then and closes her eyes, putting a hand on her heart.

I hold her tighter, unable to speak, enduring the squeezing sensation in my chest as if my soul is being crushed.

She heaves a breath. “By the time my mother got back, we’d barely had a bite of pizza, and we took it with us. But even the smell of pizza didn’t stop my mom from smelling beer. She assumed it was Liz.”

“That’s why your parents sent you to private school.”

I breathe in grateful relief. Her parents are the kind of people who protect and care for their child. I imagine they’re good to the bone, decent, and smart and happy. That’s where Susie comes from and why she is who she is. Why that one night with Liz was the worst experience of her life and the only one like it. Why I have no right being with her, spoiling her life with my miserable history.

“It’s the place her dad used to hang out. She was looking for him. I don’t know if she wanted to find him or get his attention by making him mad. Anger was the only kind of attention she got, but she always seemed to want it. I never understood that.”

She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t speculate. I never knew about the details of what went on in her house except that sometimes she was afraid and he’d… hit her.”

I let out a derisive chuckle, unable to stop it. “She provoked him. He would hit her, and she would call me. What really scared her was him hitting anyone else. She always made sure his anger was aimed at her. No matter who got in trouble, she always took the blame, made sure she was the worst, the one he would aim his rage at.”

“Oh my god.”

Susie puts her hand to her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. “That’s so like Liz. I should have known.”

She opens her eyes, and I kiss her, a feathery touch to her lips, reassurance. The smile comes from deep down, pure and unscarred, undamaged by life and the brokenness of people she trusts.

“When she called me, I would console her and threaten to go over there, but she begged me not to, said she wouldn’t call me anymore if I came over and got myself in trouble.”

I snort, remembering. “I only went there once.”

“The day I met you,”

she says, her eyes glittering so tenderly I can feel it.

* * *

“Liz would call me,”

she says. “Not very often. To come to my house to spend the night. Her father was always passed out when she called. I guess the rage was over by then. She might have a bruise or a bloody lip, nothing too terrible because he was too drunk, and she was good at escaping him.”

I stroke the soft, smooth skin of her cheek with my thumb, needing to touch her. “I wonder why she went looking for him that night.”

“I don’t know, but she shocked me the way she spoke to his friends, like she knew them, like the place was familiar to her.”

I nod. “She’d probably been drinking.”

I try and keep the self-disgust from my voice. “I didn’t realize she started drinking for a long time. I didn’t see her as much when I was at Suffield Academy. She did well in high school and her dad’s leg was worse; he couldn’t get around and cause as much harm. But what I didn’t realize is that she’d started drinking regularly. She hid that from me and only talked about cheerleading, being named captain, and being crowned queen of the prom, voted class president, and earning class valedictorian. She ran up a hell of an impressive resume in high school, and I was damn proud she was doing so well.”

Susie whistles. “I didn’t keep in touch with her during high school, so I didn’t know.”

“Chaffee, right?”

She nods and looks down. “I always felt guilty about turning my back on her, but she scared me that night, and Mom insisted that I needed to move on, as she put it, to find new friends.”

She sighs deeply and turns to me with a sad smile. “You want to know something? I never found a friend as good as Liz since. To this day.”

I nod. “I get it.”

I don’t spell out to her that I feel the same way about Liz, but the way Susie looks at me, I know she knows I understand.

“I worry about her drinking, but she doesn’t let it interfere with her life, with being a good friend. A better friend than me.”

“You’re a good friend. I see how you look out for her.”

She pauses. “There was one time she really needed my help. You remember the incident with the speeding ticket?”

Nodding, I have a bad feeling, like she’s going to tell me something I won’t like.

“I’ve kept quiet about it, but… I wasn’t the one driving that day. Liz was driving and she asked me to take the blame. So I did.”

“Fuck. Why would she…?”

I furrow my brows for a second, and then the picture becomes clear. Liz had already gotten in trouble for drunk driving and couldn’t afford a speeding ticket or she’d lose her license.

For the first time I can remember—so the first time ever—I feel real anger towards Liz, nothing like the impatience or annoyance I’ve felt before.

Dammit.

Before I can say anything to Susie about how generous and crazy she was to take the fall, I hear a commotion in the hallway outside my door. Jumping up from the mattress, I go to the door and open it a crack. Eldy’s there.

“Liz is looking for you,”

he says and pauses, looking like he has more to say. He clears his throat. “Some guy named Vinnie was looking for Susie.”

That stops the dismissal I’m about to make.

“What’s that about? Where is he?”

“Down the hall.”

I nod. “Do me a favor and keep Liz busy for a few minutes.”

“Sure, but you owe me.”

Susie comes up behind me. “I should go?—”

I shut the door and turn to her. Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her, long and hard, giving her everything I have from deep down in my soul; all the things I can’t tell her, I put into this kiss.

“I’ll leave first,”

I say, like we’re trying to hide an illicit affair.

“I’ll run across the hall to the bathroom,” she says.

We both stop and stare at each other for another second, then I close the door behind me. Without looking back, I walk down the hall and run into a guy in a blue-and-white striped rugby shirt with his back to me.

Standing at the end of the hallway, I block the view of anyone who might be glancing this way. I hear the opening and closing of a door behind me, and I’m certain no one saw Susie come out of my bedroom.

Walking purposefully, I put a hand on the shoulder of the striped jersey.

“Vinnie,”

I say. “You need to expand your wardrobe.”

He turns with a start, and I nod at him.

He smiles. “If it isn’t the man of the hour. Have you seen Susie?”

He has balls of steel asking me about Susie, or maybe he’s stupid.

“Why do you ask?”

I give him a friendly warning stare to give him a chance to rethink his interest.

He shrugs. “I like her.”

He raises his chin and sharpens his stare, challenging me because he’s fucking out of his mind.

“I think rugby players should consider wearing helmets, Vinnie, because you’ve been hit in the head one too many times if you think?—”

“The only way you could stop me from being interested in Susie is if you were married, and I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger. Beyond that, she’s up for grabs.”

The way he says she’s up for grabs strikes me like a red cape swishing in front of a bull. I grab him by the collars of his fucking striped shirt and lift him to his toes.

“Don’t you fucking even talk about her like that, or go near her. She’s not up for grabs by anyone.”

Not even me. I keep my voice low as I push him into the living room.

People step aside, getting out of my way as they watch us.

He pushes against me and because he’s no lightweight, I let go of him.

He growls, “Let’s go outside and?—”

Eldy appears and gets between us. “Guys, you know the rules. No fighting.”

He grabs me around my torso, reminding me about my earlier rib injury, and holds on. Between him and Mack and one of the defensive linemen, we’re separated, and Vinnie is escorted to the front door and advised to leave. The extra hard shove convinces him.

Eldy takes me into the kitchen, straight to Liz. “Talk some sense into this idiot,”

he says to her. She gives me a look, confused but pleased, and I can see that her eyes are unfocused and her smile sloppy. Shit.

“How about if we go out and get some air?” I say.

“I was looking for you earlier. I thought you were in your room, but Eldy said you weren’t.”

I can’t lie to her, so I don’t. I don’t say a word. Holding onto her arm, I take her out back.

“I was looking for Susie, too. You know where she is? Did she leave early?”

Shit. She doesn’t sound as drunk as I thought she was. I swipe a hand through my hair and think about what I can say that’s not a fucking lie. “She’s always leaving early.”

Liz snorts. “That’s true. Partying isn’t her thing, but I love her. She’s so… I don’t know.”

She shrugs. I know exactly what she means, but I continue to keep my mouth shut.

“Let’s do something tomorrow,”

she says. “I have nothing on my schedule.”

“That’s unheard of.”

She laughs. “I know. Once in a while, I leave a blank day, you know? Just in case I need… a break.”

“You’re wiser than you should be, Liz.”

“Let’s go for a drive.”

“Where to?”

I say before I think, getting caught up in the way we used to be when we were kids, me and Liz escaping after church on Sundays into the fields.

She takes my hand. “Anywhere. Away from here. As long as it’s together. Sometimes I want to…”

She trails off, but I know the words of her unfinished sentence. She’s said them too many times before. She wants to disappear.

“No. You’re doing too well, achieving so much, Lizzie.”

You can’t disappear. I take her face in my hands and force her to look at me. I see the sparkle of tears in her unguarded eyes. She wipes them away and pushes my hands away in the process, laughing self-consciously.

“You’re supposed to always tell me the truth, Bry.”

She’s smiling and being self-deprecating the way she was trained from a young age, but her words trouble me for another reason.

I haven’t been telling her the truth. I’ve been keeping how I feel about Susie from her, concealing everything about how I met Susie and how I’ve dreamed about her and how much I want her. Worst of all, my wanting Susie is at least part of the reason that I don’t want Liz, not for anything more than a friend, and I’ve been keeping that from her.

Shit. I turn us away from the woods and tug on Liz’s hand to go back to the apartment.

“I am telling you the truth, Liz, about how well you’re doing. I would never lie about that.”

“No,”

she says as we walk. “Can I stay tonight?”

She stops, forcing me to stop, forcing me to tell her no, forcing me to decide whether I’m going to lie again about why she can’t stay.

“No, Liz. We’re not like that. We’re never going to be like that.”

She heaves a breath and, to her credit, remains clear-eyed. She doesn’t seem drunk at all now. “Why not, Bryan? Tell me the truth. I can take it.”

Compared to facing down the biggest defensive lineman out to take my head off, facing Liz now, to tell her the truth about Susie, is worse by a million gigawatts of pain, worse than being branded by a white-hot cattle prod burning through my heart.

I swallow as she stares, waiting.

“There’s someone else.”

My gruff words tear a hole in the night, tear a hole in my gut. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that someone else is Susie, but I can’t. I can’t say it because I don’t really know what’s between Susie and me. I only know what I want.

And it feels disloyal down to my bones to even contemplate saying Susie’s name. It’s not my place to speak for her.

“Someone… who?”

Her voice sounds sharp and wounded.

I shake my head. I’m not going to tell her.

She slaps my face. Hard. I step back, keeping eye contact with her and absorb the sting.

“You fucking liar.”

Rage deepens her voice. She pushes my chest and punches me. “You cheating bastard.”

Tears erupt now, exploding from her as she pummels my chest. We’re out in the open behind the apartment, and the people out back by the kegs turn their attention to us.

I pull her in close, wrapping my arms around hers to stop her punches, murmuring to her that we’ll be okay, that we still have us, we’ll always have us if she allows it, that I’ll never not be there for her no matter what.

She sobs against my shirt, calming, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean any of those things. I’m sorry?—”

“Shh.”

I stroke her hair and her back like she’s a hysterical child, and she quiets.

When we get back inside, Susie is nowhere to be found, but Liz’s car is still here, so I drive her home. When we get to her dorm, I drop her off and park her car in the lot.

Then I walk back to my apartment. I don’t feel the cold, but I feel the desolation.