Saving the Halfback

2. Bailey

2

Bailey

M rs. Cleaver had been my English teacher back in grade ten, and I was excited when I got her again this year because, as long as you did the work, she was an easygoing teacher. The warning bell rang just as I entered class. Since I was the first one in, even before her, I walked to the middle seat in the farthest row, like usual.

I busied myself by pulling out my notebook and pen as students began arriving and filling the class. Just before the final bell rang, Chase and Hadley walked into the room, hand in hand. Though I tried not to stare, it was difficult to curb the urge. Despite never speaking to them, I’d never broken my habit of watching the guys. I wasn’t stalking them or anything. When you’re so familiar with someone, it’s easy to pick them out in a crowd, to be drawn to them.

Unfortunately for the happy couple, the only two seats left in the class were separated, one of which was right beside me.

I held my breath and started humming in my head, pulling my cap down a bit to hide my face. Everyone continued chattering until Mrs. Cleaver entered the room. I ignored the movement beside me and peeked up at the teacher. As usual, she was wearing a long dress in a vibrant floral pattern, with a cardigan over the top. Her glasses hung from a beaded necklace, so she wouldn’t lose them. She gave off the hippy vibe very well, and I found that comforting.

“Welcome, seniors!” she said. “I recognize most of you, and a few new faces, that’s good. Is everyone excited for their final year? Yes? No?” A few students answered, and she smiled. “Yes and no, I see. Bailey, hat, please. I want to see your beautiful face.”

Damn it. I pulled my cap off as my cheeks burned red.

“All right, senior year, let’s dive right in.” Mrs. Cleaver began going over the reading list and how it would be our responsibility to keep up with our own timelines, since she was preparing us for post-secondary schooling.

I zoned out part way through her lecture. That feeling I was being watched slithered up my spine, and I risked a peek at Hadley. To my surprise, it was Chase who sat next to me, across the aisle. He wasn’t staring at me, though; he was looking at the cap on my desk, where I had placed it.

I did exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t do. I fell back into the routine of being a ghost and ignored it. I wasn’t ignoring him; I was ignoring the flurry of emotions and the desire to reach out to him. To shake him. Maybe punch his arm and ask him what the heck happened to us, all of us. It was what I would’ve done years ago, but now…it wasn’t the same. If I started asking questions, I feared he might do the same, and I wasn’t sure I could provide answers. So, I ignored it all.

The end of class couldn’t come soon enough. When the bell rang, I jumped out of my seat, grabbing my bag and rushing out.

“Bailey.”

At the sound of Chase’s voice, I closed my eyes to calm my racing heart. When was the last time I’d heard him speak my name? I didn’t want it to turn into something weird if I became a puddle of goo right here in the middle of English class.

I turned around, really looking at him. The way his dark blond hair fell into his face was so unlike the person I’d known before. Chase had always had clean-cut hair and freshly pressed clothes. When I looked into the swirling grey eyes, though, I saw a flicker of the kid I’d known. “Yeah?” I asked.

“You forgot your hat.” He held out the worn cap, and I gently took it.

I cleared my throat. “Thanks. Hey, listen I’d really like—”

Chase pushed past me. “Whatever,” he snapped, his tone hard.

The first time he’d dismissed me, in the parking lot, it had hurt. Crushed me, really. This time, it pissed me off. This isn’t going to work, I told myself. I couldn’t keep getting hurt like this. Maybe Ed was right—maybe he had been protecting me from something.

What if the other two treated me exactly as Chase had? Could I handle it? Would I turn into a pile of sopping mess every time? Would I go back to Ed—

No.

I had to do this. This was my chance. So what if they wanted to act like butt hurt kids? Something bubbled inside of me, flipping between the urge to cry and scream. Maybe it was better if I just went back to being a fly on the wall than to come out and know they hated me. That had been hate, right? Chase hated me.

Anger simmered within me. I was working hard to make a change, what was his problem? He had no idea what I’d gone through, what I did to be here today. I’d fought to find myself again, to take charge of my life. He didn’t want to talk to me? Fine. But he didn’t have to be a dick about it.

I put my head down and rushed through the halls without looking where I was going, grumbling to myself about the stupidness of it all, when I ended up smacking directly into someone.

Not only did I run into his ripped, muscular chest that felt more like a brick wall, but I turned away so fast, quickly mumbling a sorry, that I smacked my face into an open locker door and fell back. Gentle hands reached for me, but of course, my humiliation couldn’t stop there. Instead of falling back onto my ass and having this guy catch me, I ended up trying to save myself, jumping straight up, and plowing my head into his nose.

I never said I was graceful.

“Shit.” The guy laughed as he grabbed his nose. I rubbed my head. Was his face made of steel? “Sorry, I tried to help.” His voice was nasally as he continued to hold his nose.

I leaned against the lockers behind me, rubbing my head and wincing, but the moment I caught sight of blood, I panicked. “Are you okay? Come with me.” I grabbed his hand, the one not holding his now bleeding nose, and pulled him quickly into the girls’ restroom. Thankfully, it was empty.

My heart was pounding from the adrenaline, but all I could think about was that he was hurt, and I had to help him. I pushed him against the sink and grabbed a bunch of paper towels, pulling his hand away and placing them on his nose. “Lean your head down a bit,” I instructed. “If you lean back, it will go down your throat.”

He laughed, a deep chuckle that had my lips twitching at the insanity of this all. Was this what I got for stepping out of my comfort zone? “I heard this school was tough, but I didn’t expect to get my nose broken by the cutest girl here on my first day.”

I blew out a breath, realizing he was okay. I didn’t even want to process the second part of what he said.

“Nolan is my name.”

When my eyes met Nolan’s, the first thing that came to mind was that he was absolute eye candy.

Now that the adrenaline in me had settled, I was able to get a good look at him. His eyes were nearly as breathtaking as Chase’s, but in a different way. Chase’s eyes swirled like a grey vortex in a storm. Nolan’s were a dark shade of blue, with some green in them near the center. Where Chase’s eyes swirled, Nolan’s shone. I could see kindness in them.

Nolan’s dark hair was short and styled, the sides shaved. He wore a plain white shirt, that now sported some drops of blood, and dark jeans. He was tall, lean, and muscular, and for the first time in a long time, my heart did little flips from just being around a guy. I refused to feel guilty about it.

“Bailey,” I said. “I’m sorry about the nose. And the shirt.” I winced.

“Don’t worry about it, it was an accident.” Nolan looked around. “So, this is the girls’ bathroom. Thought it would be a little more done up. Girly-ish.”

This was the part where I should flirt with him—normal girls would—but I had zero experience in this department. So, I said the first thing that came to mind. “It’s a bathroom, full of shitters and stalls.”

Nolan choked out a laugh, pulling the paper towel away to see if his nose was still bleeding.

I went up on my tiptoes, looking at him. “I think you’re good.”

His lips pulled into a heart-stopping smile. “Thanks.”

I was just glad my comment about shitters hadn’t grossed him out. Was this all it took to flirt with a guy?

Turning around, I tossed the paper towel into the garbage. Just as I thought I could handle this new flirting thing, Nolan removed his bloodied shirt, and my mouth went dry. Holy shit. Nolan was ripped—everywhere. His body was sculpted and tight, those delicious V lines disappearing into the waist of his jeans. Surely, it wasn’t normal for a high schooler to be this…fit.

He turned around and began washing his hands and face in the sink, getting rid of the now-drying blood. “So, you’re new here?” I asked, remembering his comment about this being his first day at the school.

Nolan glanced in the mirror just as he reached for his shirt, giving me a wink before drying his hands and face with it. I just got caught checking him out, again. I looked down. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up. You got caught—so what? Own it. I raised my chin.

“Yeah, transferred this year to be part of the football team,” he said.

Ah, no wonder he was in such good shape. “What position do you play?” I asked.

“Quarterback.”

He pulled a black shirt from his bag and began pulling it on just as Hadley and her crew came through the bathroom door. All three girls slowed their walk as they spotted Nolan, giving him a slow perusal with their eyes while I suppressed the urge to roll mine.

“Nolan!” Hadley gushed with her fake smile, and I wanted to vomit. Note to self: eat a smaller breakfast tomorrow. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Hadley had ignored me completely when she came in, which I was fine with; I was used to it. But with all her attention on Nolan, I could see him becoming uncomfortable. He reached for his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, I was just looking for my class.”

“That’s why I’m here for you, duh. You haven’t given me your schedule yet.” She stepped up to him, as if she were going to touch him, but Nolan sidestepped her, placing his arm around my shoulders.

“I’m good now. My friend here… Bailey, she was just about to help me.” He gave me a pleading squeeze with his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up, watching as he turned his anxious eyes on me. Anxiety was something Hadley gave me too.

I nodded. “Yep, we should go. The bell will ring soon.”

“Farm girl?” Hadley scoffed and Katie laughed.

“She’s not part of the group, you’ll get lost,” Katie said.

“I think we can find our way.” Nolan turned us toward the door.

“I’ll save a seat for you at lunch,” Hadley called out. “The table is for players and cheerleaders only.”

Nolan groaned as we left the bathroom, dropping his arm from my shoulder. “So, know anywhere I can hide at lunch to avoid her?”

“Not a fan of Hadley?”

“She was assigned to be my guide through the school, but she’s so handsy.”

Hadley was handsy? Did Nolan know she had a boyfriend? Oh well, not my place.

“What class do you have next? The least I can do for nearly breaking your nose is show you where it is.”

He smiled and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Art, room four thirty-five.”

I shook my head, go figure. “Follow me, it’s my next class too.”

Nolan tried to keep up with me as I weaved through the throng of students. I was used to dodging and ducking my way through these halls, but for a quarterback, he didn’t move as fluidly. “You like art?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. My specialty is putting sunglasses on the sun in the corner of my pictures.”

Nolan chuckled. “Well, I hate to brag, but I can even put squiggles in the sky for birds in the distance.”

“Squiggles? That's advanced stuff right there.”

The bell rang as we walked to class, so when we reached the room, most of the tables already had occupants. Nolan scanned the room and nodded to Lachlan. They did a quick hand slap as Nolan sat in the chair next to him. The tables were round, with four chairs around them. Since most already contained groups of four or two, I kept walking to the back and found myself a table on my own.

Wanting to save myself the humiliation of Lachlan having the same reaction as Chase, I tried hard not to look at his and Nolan’s table. Was this whole plan really something I wanted to do, after all?

Lachlan was forgotten friend number two, and though I’d never had any favorites or best friends in our group—because we were all best friends—the loss of him had stung a little more than the others.

Lachlan had a reputation at this school; most stayed clear of him or were afraid. However, I would always remember him as the sweet-boy-next-door kind of guy. His blond hair and blue eyes had always been welcoming and warm to me. He used to be the soft one of the group. The one who we would protect from stuck-up bullies and even wayward comments from adults. All of us used to be protective of Lach.

Now, he was different. The first year of high school, he didn’t transfer with us; he spent it in juvie. Everyone said he killed some guy, but I never believed those rumors. Whenever I’d tried to visit him at the facility, he’d refused to see me. So, I’d received the message, loud and clear—stay away.

From a distance, I’d watched him change into the guy before me now. His warm eyes had turned cold, his softness disappearing into sharp features. Last year, he added the lip piercings and rings on his fingers, and there was now a tattoo peeking up above the collar of his shirt on his chest.

In the split second his gaze met mine, I thought I saw a glimmer of the warmth that had once been so familiar, before the teacher caught our attention and he turned away. Lachlan was a different person, just like Chase was…just like I was. We’d all grown apart, and maybe I had to let it go. Let them go.

“Bailey,” Nolan said.

“Sorry, Bailey. I didn’t know your name.” Mrs. Kendricks smiled. In addition to art, she also taught drama and choir, all of which were subjects I didn’t exactly excel at. So, I wasn’t surprised she didn’t know my name. “Can you find a table to join? There should be four tables of four and one table of three.”

I grabbed my bag and moved toward a table of two as a few other students also moved around, stopping when I felt a tug on my strap. “Sit with us,” Nolan said. I nodded, not knowing how I could say no to him. I slid into the seat between Lachlan and Nolan, just as Lachlan put his backpack in the chair next to him, giving a look to the girl who almost sat down, which caused her to turn and walk to the next table.

As the class settled down and everyone took their seats, Mrs. Kendricks explained how these would be our seats for the rest of the term, then went over our goals for the next few weeks.

I had trouble hearing her, though, as the sound of rushing blood filled my ears, my skin prickled with heat, and I found it hard to breathe. Lachlan was so close to me that, if I leaned ever so slightly, I would likely be touching him. I held still, though.

What should I say to him? How was life in the slammer? Why didn’t you ever let me visit or respond to my letters? I could—well, I didn’t want to, but I could—remain silent and just enjoy being close to him without opening my mouth and potentially ruining things with him, like I had with Chase.

Ugh. Time for change, Bails . But it was so much easier staying in the ghost-like comfort zone I had created.

Stealing some confidence from within, from the old me, I glanced over at Lachlan and was surprised to see he was already staring at me. “Hey,” I whispered. I held the air in my lungs, afraid that, if I released it, I would lose him. Please don’t hate me, I silently begged.

“Bailey.” My name was a whisper on his lips, and warmth flooded his eyes. With a gentle smile, he suddenly wasn't the guy people feared to cross paths with. I was hit with the memory of my first football practice when we were kids. Everyone had been avoiding me because I was a girl and, apparently, a plague. He’d invited me to warm up, throw the ball back and forth. He would confront anyone who called me names, but for years to follow, I’d been the one looking out for him. Beating up anyone who picked on him. Lach was always a target for kids in elementary school. This Lachlan didn’t need a protector anymore, but he still gave me that feeling he had the first time I met him—acceptance.

As I relaxed into my chair, somehow knowing Lachlan and I were going to be okay, the teacher began handing out art kits to share out our tables. She explained that we were just exploring the tools in our bins today and we could use the period for free expression, though she wanted something handed in by the end of class to gauge our skill levels.

“Do you know each other?” Nolan asked.

Lachlan’s arm brushed against mine as he reached for the art kit, or rather box, and began sifting through it. “We go way back. Bailey is from my hometown.” His voice settled something deep inside of me, like I had been waiting so long to hear it. Lachlan winked at me, and I bumped him back with my shoulder. “Nolan has been practicing with the team all summer,” Lachlan said, filling me in.

“I didn’t realize you were still playing,” I said, which was a lie, I knew he was on the team, I had seem him walking around wearing his jersey on game days. I didn’t want him to know how much I had been watching him.

“Have you not seen any of our games?” he asked, and I was almost ashamed to say I hadn’t. There was always something going on. When I didn’t answer, he continued the conversation. “Do your parents still have the farm?”

“Yes, we expanded, actually. Dad bought another two hundred acres across the creek.”

“What?” Nolan stared at me. “You have a farm…like a legit moo cow farm?”

Had he not heard Hadley call me farm girl ?

I laughed. “Yes, a moo cow farm.” I pulled out a piece of paper from the kits, letting Nolan and Lachlan take one each.

After having to rely on gossip alone for information on Lachlan over the last few years, I had so many questions for him. Why didn't he let me visit when he was in juvie? What really happened to him? Why did there seem to be a rift between him and the others? I’d seen him talk with Chase on occasion but never around Ethan. But I wouldn’t ask. So, instead, I fell into easy banter with Nolan and Lachlan.

Lachlan wasn’t like me and Nolan—he was an artist at heart. I’d never seen that part of him when we were younger.

“Can you pass the black pastel?” he asked me.

“Pastel…pastel…here you go.” I grabbed a black stick and passed it to him.

Lachlan smiled. “That would be charcoal.”

“Right. Charcoal…hmm, pastel.” I dug through the tray.

“Bailey, you have no idea what you’re looking for, do you?” he asked, showing pity on me.

“Not. A. Clue.”

Lachlan leaned over me, moving a few items away before grabbing a small white box and opening it to display the pastels. He pulled out the black. “This is a pastel.”

I stared at the stick, only barely remembering where it had come from. When he’d leaned across me, I’d found myself resisting the urge to sniff him, and I’d failed miserably. He smelled like sandalwood, with an earthy tone of something else I couldn’t put my finger on. I liked it, though. Liked it too much as my heart was thrown into overdrive. That had definitely never happened when we were younger.

I sat back, giving him some space. “I’ll remember that,” I said, returning to my picture of a tree and hill, and now I was drawing stick people. Was this normal? Not the drawing; I knew I sucked. But to react like this just because of someone's scent? It was a hormonal teenage thing, right? If so, then why did I feel so guilty?

Lachlan got busy working in his sketchbook for a bit before looking up at me. “So, what’s with the change?” His blue eyes met mine briefly before he looked away.

I peeked over at Nolan, noting that he was leaning over the aisle, talking to another guy. Turning back to Lachlan, I asked, “What change?”

“You, your look, you're talking to me again.”

How should I answer him? How could I tell him? That, all this time, I’d been a breath away from calling out to him. I’d been a touch away from falling apart. But I didn’t because of my fear of the consequences. How could I talk to him? The answer was simple—I couldn’t.

“You’re talking to me again,” I countered.

He seemed thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “True.”

I sighed. “I thought we could go back, but I didn’t realize… We ended things on bad terms. I guess I owe you an apology too.”

“Ah. Is that why you’ve changed your look?” He nodded down at my clothes.

I shrugged. “I just wanted to try something different.”

Lachlan leaned forward. “You don’t owe me an apology. We’re different people. My group doesn't hang out with Chase’s group or even Ethan. And you just seemed happy not to be around us. I have nothing against you.”

“So, you don’t know what Chase is upset about? He acted like I was a stranger, completely blew me off when I tried to talk to him.”

Lachlan frowned but continued to work on his picture. “You sort of are a stranger. See this? This is the Bailey I know now.” He tore the page from his book and handed it to me.

The picture was of a girl, drawn anime style. She wore an oversized plaid flannel over a dark shaded tank top, reminiscent of what I’d wore over the last few years. Her long hair was left down but pulled behind her ears. I couldn’t see her eyes because Lachlan had drawn a ball cap that was pulled down, covering them. Her cheeks were shaded, as if she were blushing.

“Wow… I think it’s great,” I told him, though it nearly choked me up. Not because he’d drawn a picture of me, but because it was a picture of me last year. How I’d always worn my hair and clothes. I hadn’t worn the cap in years, but I liked that he drew it into the picture, like he knew I was using it for comfort today. Otherwise, the picture was me last year, when I’d felt lost and tried to hide.

He’d seen me, even then.

“So do I,” he whispered. I looked up to find his eyes on me. “There’s no need to change yourself, Bailey. The confidence, I like, but don’t feel the need to dress up or put on makeup for anyone. If it takes changing you for them to notice, they don’t deserve you.”

“It took doing this for you and Chase to notice me,” I point out.

Lachlan scoffed. “Bailey, it took you to say hey for me to notice. Plus, we don’t deserve you. Never have, never will.”

I looked back to the picture, remembering how freeing it had felt this morning to wear the clothes I’d always wanted to, do my hair how I wanted, without being worried whether Ed would approve. “Well, I did it for myself.”

“I guess that’s okay, then. As long as it’s for yourself.” Lachlan bumped into me with his shoulder, his body relaxing. I smiled and found myself leaning back into him.