29. Lilah
LILAH
By spring, walking down the hall with Mason’s arm draped over my shoulder and my bag on his other shoulder no longer drew stares from our classmates.
At the next pep rally, I stuck to my spot at the back of the stands, and he took his time walking over to me, jersey in hand. Morgan and Brooke sat a few seats down. He leaned in closer and Morgan’s fingers brushed against the red fabric.
He leveled his gaze at them. “You’re in my way.”
After a couple of gasps and muttered curses, they split.
He stepped to the next row and grinned at me, holding out his #11 jersey. “I don’t know why you keep giving me this back, Lilah, ’cause no one else is ever wearing it but you.” A hard press of his lips against mine, like sealing the words with a kiss.
“Anyone else hot in here?” Paige grinned at me. Whenever I left class, Mason was there. My schedule might as well have been his. Athlete privilege was the only way to account for him being late to or leaving early from every period.
Every morning, he drove me to school with a pit stop for a ham, egg and cheese croissant and a caramel macchiato. He’d made me work my way through the coffee shop menu until I found the drink I loved.
And after school, he met me in the sewing lab with a chicken Caesar salad and bottle of cranberry juice to take me—well, us—home.
It wasn’t like I was an extra stop. The only time I walk home on my own was if Mason’s practice ran late or he had an away game.
And that was only after telling him I didn’t need rideshare credits and that my phone was in fact too old to download the app and then immediately refusing a new phone from him.
But I was the first text from the locker room after his game finished.
The pool house had been taken over by contractors to get it ready for Alena’s guests come summer, so our alone time was limited to his car and moments in my house when no one else was there. But the severe lack of privacy made me want to scream.
There were brushes of his fingers along my skin and kissing, so much kissing, but we hadn’t been able to do much more. It left me eager, aching and restless with every good-night kiss.
We’d fallen into a routine so consistent it was hard to remember what it was like when he wasn’t waiting outside my last class for a kiss before bolting off to practice.
I’d finally gotten Natalie to listen to me and we’d had a long talk.
I withdrew from the finalist spot and promised her that I hadn’t lied to her.
I just had an overzealous boyfriend who hadn’t thought about what the scholarship would mean to me or anyone else applying. She apologized for flipping out on me.
I couldn’t blame her for feeling like I was trying to take something from her. No one around here understood the desperate feelings of your future slipping away like we did. And I’d helped her work on her final submissions for the award.
Banners for the playoffs were replaced week after week. Quarter-finals and then semis, until they broke out the Hawthorne Hawk celebration bunting for the hallways. Every corner was draped with posters for the championship game.
“None of this freaks you out?”
Mason raised his chin in a nod to a guy in the hallway. How his neck didn’t hurt from all of those already, I had no idea. “You get used to it.”
“Maybe you do. I’d never be able to stand in front of hundreds of people all expecting me to deliver.”
“When you always deliver, it helps.”
I rolled my eyes and he dragged me closer before blowing raspberries on my neck. With a quick shove, I escaped the tickle torture. “Your humility knows no bounds.”
“It helps keep the uncertainty at bay. If I put in hard work behind it, and know I’ve done everything I can to lock it down, why live with anxiety of fucking it up before it’s happened? I’d rather just go with the better of the two alternatives. We’ll win.”
“That’s an oddly well-adjusted way to think about it.
” The amount of worrying I did could power a small city.
Then again, I was still wait-listed or rejected everywhere with a dual program, so it wasn’t unwarranted worrying.
I’d gotten into Rutgers, but not their joint program.
Apparently, all my hard work with almost no extra curriculars or volunteer work and massive financial aid need didn’t scream “pick me” to any admissions committees.
“Hi, Lilah.” Kelsey waved from her locker, standing next to her group of sophomore friends.
“Hi, Kelsey.”
Her grin was so wide, I could see her molars. “See you at home later.”
Eliza shot me a little wave as we passed.
Looks like I’d gotten my wish for a little acknowledgment from my younger siblings. But an odd sadness washed over me. Kelsey would’ve turned the other way in a heartbeat if I weren’t tucked under Mason’s arm.
“Want me to call her out?”
I jerked against Mason’s hold. “What?”
“I didn’t miss how she pretended not to know you at the beginning of the year.” His jaw tightened, a pinched twitch to his lips.
“Can’t say I blame her. There weren’t many people who’d have wanted to be associated with me.”
Mason’s jaw flexed like it always did whenever I mentioned those days. “Let me get you a caramel macchiato.”
“You going to buy me something every time your bad behavior gets brought up?”
“It wasn’t bad behavior—it was me being a massive dick who deserved to get a few teeth knocked loose and completely regrets it.”
I hugged him. “You don’t need to buy me things.”
“Which only makes me want to get you even more.”
“What I want can’t be bought.” I traced my finger down the center of his chest.
His whole body locked and he nearly toppled over before crowding me against the wall. The bell chimed the end of the passing period. “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
I slipped under his arm and through the doorway to my next class. “No idea. Looks like you’ll have to show me.”
His hazy, stunned look was worth pushing against his restraint.
“Lilah!” he called after me and tried to come inside.
“To your next class, Mr. Shaw.” My physics teacher stepped in front of the doorway and shut the door while keeping Mason out.
His face disappeared from view before popping up in the little window.
I sat in my seat beside Paige and tried to pretend I couldn’t tell he was staring at me with incandescent craving. A thrill rushed through me at how he never seemed to want to watch me go.
Paige leaned over. “You’d better watch out. He’s going to start pouncing on you the second you step out of your class.”
I wished he would. But maybe I needed to be the one to show him I was ready. He’d seemed more than happy to take things as slowly as I wanted, but what if I wanted to crank up the heat a little?
“Is Molly coming down for the championship game?” All these months later, I was happy Rye’s relationship was still going strong. I stretched my neck, rubbing my sore muscles, and with my other hand, I marked the practice test he’d just finished.
“Not sure yet. I’m supposed to call her in five minutes when field hockey practice is over.”
He tapped his pencil against the kitchen table, impatiently waiting for the results.
“Ready for the game?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He jerked his head toward the front window. “What about fuck-face out there?”
“Can you not?”
“How can I not?” He sank back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “He was an absolute dick to you, no matter how much you tried to cover for him.”
“I didn’t want you involved.”
“That was your first mistake. How could I not be involved?”
“You can’t fight my battles for me. And we figured it out.” I finished up on the last question, scribbled down his score and added a little smiley face to it for extra effect. Putting on my best beaming smile, I held up the paper.
“Figured it out as in he wore you down.”
I shook his B+ practice test in front of him. “An eighty-nine. You’re not the least bit excited about this.”
He grabbed the paper from me, crumpling the top of the stapled sheets. “I’m more worried about you being with Mason.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized.” The words were so dry I tasted sawdust. “I never meddled with any of your girlfriends. Don’t meddle about Mason.”
“That’s different.” He ducked his head and reached for my hand. “He’s not good for you.”
I scooted back. “Let me be the judge of that.”
“You were. And you wanted nothing to do with him.”
“Things change.” I closed his textbooks since it seemed like the tutoring session was over. “People change.”
“What happens after graduation?”
I took a chocolate chip cookie out of the container Rye had brought.
We’d already finished the fish tacos with pickled red onion and guacamole I wanted to swim in.
I’d tried not to think about how no joint programs seemed to want me.
The hallways were abuzz every day with people wearing sweatshirts of their new school or buttons being pinned to backpacks.
I was still celebration-less. Exactly what I got for pinning my future hopes on just ten schools with a specialized, highly selective program.
“He’ll go to Rhode Island and I’ll go to wherever I get in.”
Rye’s shoulders dropped like some of the concern had seeped out of his body. “Seriously?”
I finished the cookie. “Yes, what did you think I was going to say?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
I stacked the books and notebooks together.
“Mason and I put what happened behind us. We’re having fun.
What happens after graduation? I don’t know, but I’m not going to spend from now until I leave for college in August worrying about what might happen.
I have enough worrying on my plate. I’m not adding Mason to that list. Did you think I was going to turn my whole life plan upside down because of Mason Shaw? ”
The side of his neck reddened, the color creeping closer to his ears. “All I’m saying is be careful.”
I saluted him with mock deference.