Chapter Ten Summer
Chapter Ten
Summer
Rowan’s friends are nice. Vaughn is a legend, primarily because of his father, but I’ve seen him play and he’s more than proven himself to be on the same track.
He’ll definitely go pro at some point. He’s quiet and more reserved than Rowan or Austin, but his girlfriend Lacey is bubbly and sweet.
I love her. She reminds me of Charlotte.
Claire and I are more alike, neither of us shy but not as outgoing as Lacey either. It’s easy to see how Rowan fits in with these people. He’s the funny guy, the one always looking to make them laugh or start the conversation. It’s almost like everyone is more at ease when he’s around.
It’s hard to believe this is the same guy that Silas hates so much. The guy I hated so much.
As people start to leave, Rowan shows no sign of going anywhere. Vaughn and Lacey left quite a while ago and Austin and Claire are saying their goodbyes now. I stifle a yawn as Claire hugs me and says she’ll see me tomorrow.
“What is that?” Rowan asks, catching me with my hand over my mouth and my eyes watering.
“Sorry. It’s late.”
“Late?” He scoffs.
“Rowan usually closes these things down,” Claire warns me.
“Not me. I’m a morning person.”
Rowan gasps dramatically, pulling an instant smile to my lips.
“That’s it. That’s a deal-breaker, Lindsey.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Oh well.”
Teasing him and giving him shit has become our bit for the night, and his friends think it’s hilarious. If they only knew. Or wait, maybe they do.
My skin pricks as the idea settles in. Did he tell them that we’re faking? They were so nice to me tonight, but maybe they would have been either way.
“Good luck getting him out of here before dawn,” Austin says with a wave as he and Claire walk away.
I turn to Rowan, who sighs.
“We can go if you want,” he says, sounding like he’s making a big sacrifice by leaving.
“One more lap around the party?”
His eyes light up. “Yeah. My girlfriend is a party animal.”
His palm finds mine as a laugh slips from my lips.
“No one has ever accused me of being a party animal,” I tell him.
“You were just hanging out with the wrong people. I’m a blast, therefore you’re more compelled to stay. It’s a common problem. You’ll see.”
I shake my head at him like I think he’s full of shit, but the truth is, he’s probably right. As tired as I am, and as reluctant as I was to come, tonight was fun.
I let him guide me around the backyard one last time.
I can’t relax with his fingers intertwined with mine, but I do my best to smile and look natural.
People are excited to see Rowan. All of them.
He’s so universally liked and by extension, so am I.
It’s an odd feeling. Kevin was popular and I had great friends at Oakley, but I wasn’t part of the in crowd.
We stop and chat with every group that’s still here.
I meet a bunch more people, only remembering about a quarter of their names.
Every single person glances at our joined hands.
Some register their surprise openly, a few guys even comment on it, but everyone seems to accept we’re a couple.
It’s mind-boggling to me that anyone believes it.
From what I’ve witnessed, Rowan is one of the most popular guys in school, and I’m nobody.
“You and Amanda are done for good then?” a guy named Troy asks. I can smell the booze on him, but I don’t know if he’s drunk or just oblivious to the faux pas of asking about Rowan’s ex in front of his current girlfriend.
Not that I really care, but I know I should be offended.
His smile stays intact, but Rowan’s fingers tighten around mine. “Amanda who?”
The guys laugh and Rowan plays it off like he’s completely unaffected, but he pulls me away right after.
Unfortunately, the next group we encounter as we’re circling around is the football guys. Amanda sits on Ronnie’s lap. He’s talking to his friends and mostly ignoring her except for a hand draped over her upper thigh.
She spots us first as we approach. Her stare drops only for a second to our hands and then quickly lifts to our faces. She smiles.
Rowan is walking at a pace that suggests he has no intention of stopping so I wave at her and hope she isn’t going to come tackle me from behind.
“She didn’t look jealous,” Rowan whispers when we’re a few feet away.
I glance back. She’s still watching us. She doesn’t look pissed at me, so that’s good news. In fact, she isn’t looking at me at all. She’s watching him.
“Don’t worry. She is.”
He pauses and looks back the same way I did, but she’s already looked away.
“Thank you for doing this,” he says when he meets my gaze again. He’s still holding my left hand, and he’s standing so close I can smell the mixture of his laundry detergent or body wash and the minty gum in his mouth.
“Did everyone buy it?”
“I think so.”
“Do your friends know the truth?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “No way.”
“Why not? They must know how you feel about Amanda. I’m sure they’d understand.”
“Would they though?” he asks, squinting slightly.
“Okay. Fine. It’s sort of a wild idea.”
He laughs. “Understatement of the year.”
“But I can tell how much they care about you.”
“They’re good people,” he says.
We’re still standing close. Still staring at each other. It’s easier to be around him now, minus the hand-holding and the warmth radiating off him.
The wind blows my hair into my face. He reaches out and brushes it back with the hand not attached to mine.
“I like your hair,” he says.
“It has a mind of its own.” Especially in the current humidity.
“I still like it.”
I make a noncommittal hum. Sometimes I wish I had easy hair. Straight, not as red, not as out of control. It isn’t that I don’t like it; it’s just loud in a way that I’m not.
“I think the appropriate response is, ‘Thank you, Rowan. You’re the sweetest boyfriend.’” He makes his voice high-pitched and nasally as he says the last part.
“I do not sound like that.” I swat at his chest playfully.
“Oh, you so do.”
“And I would never call you ‘the sweetest boyfriend.’”
“Why the hell not? I’m sweet.”
“There are a lot of adjectives I’d use to describe you, but that isn’t one of them.”
“Fine.” He huffs. “Is ‘hot’ one of them at least?”
I laugh.
“If you keep fueling my ego like this, Lindsey, I’m going to get a big head.”
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” I don’t think his ego is hurting one bit.
He’s shaking his head at me again as he pulls his phone out of his front jean pocket. He unlocks the screen and goes to the camera app. When he puts the phone out in front of us, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“Taking a photo with my hot girlfriend. I’m going to make it my wallpaper.”
I arch a brow.
“See? I’m sweet.”
I laugh and he snaps the photo. He holds it out for me to see.
“Not bad.”
“Right? We actually look like a couple.”
He does exactly what he said and makes it his phone wallpaper. It’s too weird. All of it.
“Now your turn,” he says.
“I am not making you my wallpaper.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too…” I search for the right word. Cliché? Cutesy?
“What is it right now?”
I take out my phone and show him. It’s a photo from last year of me, Charlotte, and Jill on the bus to an away game.
He takes it from me and studies it closer. “These are your friends?”
“Yeah. Charlotte is the one on the left and Jill is on the right.” My chest tightens. “I miss them. Everything about this year feels wrong without them here.”
He stares at it a moment longer and then hands it back. “It sucks that you had to switch schools senior year. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I put the phone back in my pocket.
“I’d like to meet them.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Because they don’t know you’re fake dating me?”
“And because you’re so hot they’d try to steal you away from me,” I say dramatically.
“All right, wiseass.” He huffs another small laugh.
* * *
The next morning, after less than six hours of sleep, I don’t want to get out of bed. But as tired as I am, I can’t help but smile. I had more fun than I expected. And today at practice we’re getting our uniforms and doing a scrimmage. Our first game is this Thursday and I’m itching to play.
I’m just out of the shower when my phone starts ringing. I wrap a towel around me quickly and drip across the floor to get my phone from the vanity.
I was expecting Charlotte or Jill, but it’s Silas who’s calling. A smile pulls at my face. I’ve barely talked to him since he left for college. His love language is sending funny videos, but as far as real communication, there’s been very little.
“Hey,” I answer on speaker as I try to dry off enough that I don’t make a huge puddle.
“What the fuck, Sum?”
I make a face at the screen like he can see me. “Well, hello to you too.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?” he asks, still sounding pissed.
“What the hell has crawled up your ass?” He’s making me as agitated as he sounds.
He scoffs, deep and rough. It sounds like he’s walking in a crowd, maybe on campus to his next class or at the cafeteria. I try to picture him sometimes, what his life is like there. And what mine could be next year.
“I’m talking about you and Rowan Blakenship.”
My stomach drops. Oh shit.
My silence is all the confirmation he seems to need.
“What the fuck?” he asks again.
“How do you already know about that?”
“That’s what you have to say to me? Not an explanation for why you’re suddenly dating the biggest asshole at Frost Lake High on week one?”
“It isn’t what it seems,” I say.
“Well, good, because it seems like you’re hooking up with that rich prick behind my back.”
I roll my eyes. “First of all, I’m not doing anything behind your back. I’ve barely heard from you in weeks, so it isn’t my fault that you don’t know what’s going on in my life.”
He’s quiet now, silently fuming, if I had to guess.
“Are you seeing him or not, Sum?”
“It’s complicated.”
He groans, then mutters softly, “What the actual fucking fuck?”
“You didn’t answer my question. How did you find out about this? No one at Oakley even knows.”
“If that’s true, they will shortly.”
My skin pricks with an uneasy feeling. “Meaning?”
“He posted a picture of the two of you on his Instagram, and I woke up to a bunch of texts from my old teammates asking me if I knew.”
I navigate to Instagram and search Rowan. I’m not following him, but his profile is public. And sure enough, there’s the photo of us from last night. There’s no caption, but plenty of people have commented things like “You two are so cute” and “Lucky girl.” I roll my eyes at that one.
“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or not?” Silas asks.
“We aren’t really together. We’re pretending.”
“What does that mean?” I can’t see it, but I can picture my brother’s face all twisted up in disgust.
I do my best to explain the situation. How his ex-girlfriend is on my team and thought I was out to sabotage her and all of Frost Lake. And how Rowan wants her back. The connections he has at FLU.
Silas goes quiet again for so long I worry he’s plotting my death. Or maybe Rowan’s. Should I be texting him to warn him?
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Sum. The guy is clearly using you or trying to get in your pants.”
“Gross. And don’t be a jerk. Maybe I’m trying to get in his pants.”
Silas groans.
Serves him right.
“I know you think he’s an asshole—”
“He is an asshole.” Another rough scoff. “I should have punched him when I had the chance.”
“What is your deal with him?” I ask. “And don’t say he broke your ankle, because you hated him long before that.”
“He walks around like he’s the shit just because his parents have money. He’s got this blasé attitude like nothing matters. Probably because he knows Mommy and Daddy can bail him out of trouble. He isn’t like us, Sum.”
My stomach twists. I’m not sure how much of Silas’s assessment is true, but he’s right that we’re different.
“Fine, fine. He’s an asshole. A joke. A rich prick. It doesn’t matter. We aren’t really together.”
“I don’t like it,” Silas says. “That guy is trouble. If something happens, it’ll blow back on you. Stay away from him.”
“I can handle myself.”
Another rough scoff. “Fake dating. What a fucking prick.”
“You cannot tell anyone about that, Si. You’re the only one who knows.”
“I don’t owe him shit.”
“Please? For me.”
“I don’t like it. It feels super shady. What possible reason does he have for wanting to date you?”
“Ouch.” I may have thought it a dozen times, but it isn’t great to hear someone else say it.
“You know what I mean. We hate him. He hates us.”
“You,” I correct him. “He hates you.”
He lets out another annoyed groan.
“You know, he doesn’t seem so terrible.”
“Right. Good one.” He laughs. “Were you not listening to anything I just said?”
I can see we are never going to see eye to eye on Rowan or my pretending to date him, so I change the topic.
“How’s college? I miss you.”
“It’s great.”
I clear my throat loudly.
“I miss you too,” he says, and I can practically see the eye roll that goes along with his annoyed tone.
I smile. “When are you coming home next?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe not until Christmas.”
“Really? That long? That sucks.”
“I figured you’d already turned my room into your own personal soccer field.”
“I tried. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me.”
“How is Dad?”
“You haven’t talked to him?”
“No, I have, but you know how he is. He says he’s fine even when he’s not.”
It’s true. Dad always puts on a smile for us. Or maybe for himself too.
“He seems good. A few rough days, but they’ve been fewer and farther between since he went on this new medicine.”
“That’s great.”
I can hear the relief in my brother’s tone. As happy as he was to leave, I know it must be hard to be away and not know what’s going on here.
“Listen, I just walked into class, so I have to go.”
“All right.” My chest squeezes. I really do miss him.
“I’ll text you later.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“And Sum?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. I don’t fucking trust Rowan Blakenship as far as I can throw his bitch ass.”