22. Jamie
I had two black eyes.I deserved both, but that didn’t mean I wanted to discuss it. I avoided my mother Thursday evening and sent her a text on Friday telling her I would behanging out with friends before heading to the home game.
Coach gave me the evil eye at school on Friday during weight lifting but didn’t ask anyquestions. I had a feeling he’d heard most of the conversation—if you could call it that—between Dallin and me in the locker room the day before. He probably thought I deserved a punch from my best friend, too.
The enormity of the situation with Bailey didn’t hit me until after the game on Friday. Our fourth win in a row and my ownpersonal best on the field. There were college scouts in the stands, but no Bailey.
No Bailey.
It was a wonder I played as well as I did, considering how distracted I was. I spent as much time searching the stands for a familiar head of flaming red hair as I did playing. I couldn’t remember a single thing in my life I’d ever done that was even remotely important to me that Bailey hadn’t shown up for if it was in her power to do so.
And maybe that was the problem. Ha. There was no maybe about it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Allie had said to me, about a girl who looked at me the way Allie looked at Connor. For years and years, Bailey had been showing me how she felt about me, and I’d just been too stupid to get it.
I begged off the party after the game, opting to sit in my car in my driveway and stare at her dark window. For almost an hour, I sat in the cold, going over all the years of friendship I’d had with the girl next door while shame burned in my gut.
Bailey had shown me love and friendship, but what had I ever shown her? Disregard? Disregard, and then, because she finally had the guts to challenge me, I kissed her. I hadn’t meant to toy with her emotions. I hadn’t meant to hurt her. And the last thing I wanted was to lose her.
But could I let myself fall for her? Likely, it was too late to do anything about that, so the real question was—What would I do about it?
That question kept me from moving from the front seat of my car. It alsokept me from sneaking up to her room again, not that I’d even be welcome after the last time.
When I finally got into the house, my fingers were numb with cold, and I was exhausted. The game had done a number on my body; all I wanted was sleep. And maybe a protein bar, which was why I went upstairs to the kitchen.
Her quiet gasp was the first clue I wasn’t alone.
“Jamie! What happened to you?” Mom wheeled her chair closer to me, her face a mask of alarm and concern.
With a sigh, I grabbed water from the fridge before facing her fully. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
I towered over her seated body by about three and a half feet, but the look on her face was terrifying enough to make me quake.
“Lean closer.”
I could have said no. I could have turned around and run away from her. But when she first came home from the rehab facility after her accident, my dad sat me down and discussed the importance of respecting her disability. That meant never taking advantage of the fact that I had working legs and could run away from her, even when I was in trouble, especially when I was in trouble.
So, I did as she asked, even though I sure didn’t want to.
“Dallin?” Her piercing blue eyes that matched mine never wavered as her fingers traced lightly over the deep purple marks under each eye.
I nodded.
She sighed, removing her hand from my face as she sat back. I took that as permission to rise and sit at the table we never used. After a moment, she rolled her chair into the space beside me.
“We’ll get back to that, but first, I think we need to discuss this.” She slid a piece of paper onto the table between us.
“Ooh, sh—.” The word slipped slowly passed my lips with more syllables than it deserved.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out, James?” Her voice was firm but without a trace of anger. I’d hurt her. It seemed I was destined to crush every female in my life I cared about this week.
I inhaled a deep breath before answering with my head in my hands. “More like hoped.” Why lie at this point? The damage had beendone.
Mom sputtered. “Jamie—” her voice broke.
We sat in silence for a few moments. I looked closely at the article she’d printed from the internet. I should have remembered the newsletters the school sent in an email to all the parents. There I was, front and center, a photo of me from the first game and my stats and other information from the first three games. It must have come this week. I wondered how long she’s known. Chances were I hadn’t fooled her at all.
“How long have you known?”
“Since I got online to see the results of your first cross-country meet.”
She didn’t have to say it—since she’d looked and realized her only child had lied to her about competing in a meet on a team he didn’t belong to anymore.
I sucked. I was surprised, too. I had no idea she kept tabs on my meets beyond the questions she asked me.
“I’m sorry.” What more was there to say?
“Sorry for what, Jamie? Lying? Going behind my back to do something you knew I would disapprove of? Playing a game that could injure you for the rest of your life?”
I sighed. “All of it. Except for the playing part. I don’t regret that one bit.”
She gawked as though she couldn’t believe what I’d just said. “Jamie—”
“Mom, I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to do this.” I pointed to the article. I knew the stats the article quoted. “I’m good. Very good. Coach Reno thinks I can play next year.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before any sound came out. “Next year?”
I nodded. “Yes. College ball. I have a shot, Mom.”
She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “No. You can’t do it. I forbid you.”
My heart cracked open at the hurt I knew I would continue to inflict on her. The muscles in my jaw worked before I managed a response. “If I get an offer, I’m taking it.”
I took her frail hand in mine. It still amazed me sometimes that I’d grown so much bigger than her. The strength in my grasp contrasted startlingly with the fragility of hers. I felt the weight of my responsibility as her son, the responsibility my father had impressed upon me every time he left me home with her until he left us for good.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You could get hurt. Your Uncle Tim—” she shook her head, unable to continue.
I knew the story. Tragedy hadn’t just hit my immediate family. My mom’s brother Tim had suffered multiple concussions playing football in high school and college. On top of that, he’d torn every ligament in his knee and struggled to walk without a limp. At least he could walk.
“I know. I do. But, Mom, I can’t live in fear. There are no guarantees. I have to live my ownstory.”
She was processing. I waited, anxious for her to understand where I was coming from. After a few long moments, she finally spoke.
“I can’t approve, Jamie. But you’re right. You have to live your own life. I won’t try to stop you, but,” her voice trailed off. It was okay. It was enough.
I leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, James.”
Well, fair enough, I supposed. I nodded my agreement. That conversation went better than expected.
“Now, tell me what happened between you and Dallin.” Her tone told me she’d not stand for a brush-off, which was what I wanted to do.
“We got into an argument.”
“I suspected,” she said dryly. “What was this argument about?”
I braced for what was coming once she dragged the whole story out of me. “Bailey.”
“Bailey?” Mom’s brow scrunched briefly and then cleared as her eyes narrowed on me. “What did you do to her?”
I groaned, dropping my forehead to the table.
Mom smacked the back of my head. “James Daniel Barnes, you better answer me, or so help me—”
“I kissed her,” I blurted into the wood surface. It was like a rehash of my conversation with Dallin. Although, I’d get out of the way before my mom could punch me.
“You did what?” For the first time that night, her voice held a smile. I hated to burst her bubble.
I lifted my head. “I kissed her. A lot.”
“You did? When?”
I gave her a look.
“Right. I don’t want to know.” She waved a hand in the air. I knew the author part of her did want to know, probably the mom part, too, but I wasn’t about to divulge any more than I had to. “But why did kissing Bailey make Dallin do that?” She pointed to my face. Then her eyes widened with a thought. “He doesn’t like her, too, does he?”
“What? No, Mom.” I groaned again. How much could one guy take in a single night?
“So, he found out you kissed Bailey. But he doesn’t like Bailey. And he punched you because—” she paused expectantly.
“Because Bailey’s mad at me.” That was true, minus a lot of details. Details I’d rather not share with my mother.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “And Bailey’s mad at you. Why?” Again, with the expectant pause. But this question I didn’t want to answer.
“Because I suck.” At least, that was the truth.
Mom sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “Jamie, you better tell me what’s going on, or you’re in big trouble, mister. Bailey has been your best friend most of your life. If you’ve made her mad or hurt her feelings, you need to fix it. Apologize. Grovel. Whatever it takes.”
I looked up at her miserably. “I’m not sure that’s going to work.”
Faster than I was expecting, she reached out and slapped my forearm. “Ow.” I rubbed at the spot. That stung.
“What do you mean? What did you do exactly?”
“Mom, I do not want to discuss this with you.” Mostly because I knew I’d feel like a bigger piece of crap than I already did.
“I don’t care. Now, spill.”
So, I did. I told her everything from the moment Bailey mentioned that I’d never kissed her up through last weekend when I kissed Elise and down to last night when Dallin kicked my butt. The only thing I left out was the specific details of our make-out sessions. Those were between Bailey and me.
“And she didn’t go to my game tonight,” I concluded pitifully.
“Well, of course not, you idiot boy.”
I sagged against the table again. “I know. I know.”
“Jamie,” she began, her fingers ruffled my hair. Maybe I did have a hair fetish. And maybe I inherited it from her. “Honey, I’ve been watching the two of you together for most of your lives. Why are you trying to hide from your feelings for Bailey?”
She didn’t ask if I had feelings for Bailey. That was the cool thing about moms; they often knew you better than you knew yourself. It was also an uncool thing about moms.
I shrugged under her hand, not wanting to admit to anythingone way or the other.
“Hey.” She jostled my shoulder, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Come on. What’s this really about?”