Chapter 2
Chapter Two
ELLA
Brackenridge Off-campus Apartments
"Come on, we're going to be late,” Kanami hollered from the other room.
I crushed my eyes shut, as if that could block out my roommate's voice. Lumps formed in my stomach and chewed holes through my insides. This was an epically bad idea. I don’t want to go. "It’s going to get rained out,” I shot back and tucked my arms into the warmth of my comforter.
"No, it isn’t." Kanami poked her head into my room. "Misha’s in charge and she’s ruthless. So put some layers on and let’s get going."
I hid my face in my blanket. Misha's ruthless. Not you?
“Come on, Briella.”
I groaned and sat up, the chill puckering the skin of my arms into thousands of goosebumps. "You sound like my mother." I stood with a sigh, my stomach flipped over; lumps tumbled on top of lumps. I stretched my arms over my head.
"That’s because you’re acting like a child."
I huffed and crossed my arms. "No, I’m being proactive about my health. Softball season starts in two weeks, Captain, and I can't afford to get sick."
One hand on her hip, she gave me a look of ice and steel.
"This is acting like a child." I stuck my tongue out at her and threw myself backward onto my bed. I yelled at the ceiling, "I don’t want to go!" and kicked my feet. It felt quasi-ridiculous, but the motion released the lumps building a wall inside my stomach; blood pumped and warmed my bare arms.
My moment over, I righted myself—only to get caught in her gaze. She arched an eyebrow and gritted out, "Feel better."
Was that a question or a command? "Oddly, yes."
"Great. Get moving, Red. We’ve got to go."
That was a command.
"And where the hell is Liesl?" Kanami threw her hands up and pivoted, her dark ponytail waved with the movement. "She said she’d be here by now." Her voice trailed off as she left my room.
Quiet slipped through the doorway, but didn't bring any peace. I inhaled a long, deep breath. The faint scent of juniper filtered in from the trees outside our apartment window. Don't think, just go. I hopped to my feet and padded across the floor to my chest of drawers.
Not dressing up for him.
I unearthed an old sweatshirt, two random socks and fleece-lined tights from the bottom drawer.
Got a headstart on warming up my leg muscles by shimmying and dancing into the leggings.
I pulled the bulky sweatshirt over my head, and eyed myself in the mirror.
"It's practical. Between the mud and the"—I spotted a hole in the seam of the sleeve—"Suck.
" I sighed and sat on the end of my bed. What am I doing?
It's Valentine's Day…why does that even matter?
I struggled out of the sweatshirt. Static electricity crackled as pieces of my hair stood on end.
Smoothing them down, I opened the top drawer and snagged my new, lavender athletic hoodie with thumbholes—a present I bought for myself with the holiday gift card from my parents.
Its structured seams accentuated lines and curves while the color, my favorite, actually looked nice with my copper-colored hair.
It washes. It's made for getting dirty. I pulled it on and found the purple socks from my high school uniform—the ones I wore during the state championship tournament my senior year. The color was a little faded, now, but the memories…three years have gone by, and I still remember that day.
My team. The way it felt to slam that ball into deep left field. Score the winning run.
I sat down on the floor and pulled the socks over the base of the tights, then tucked my feet into an older pair of practice cleats. Only two seasons left.
I hugged my knees to my chest, staring at the laces of my untied shoes. He’ll be there. My lungs tightened and that heated, breathless, squirming feeling took root in the pit of my abdomen again.
His breath heavy, his arm curled around my waist. I threaded my fingers with his and closed my eyes—his presence heady despite the fatigue of the past several days.
In the hazy, comforting space, a part of me imagined his fingertips on the skin of my stomach, tracing sensual patterns as his teeth nipped at my earlobe.
Instead, he held me until sleep soaked through my skin, the rest of me drifting off to a dream of what it would be like to wake beside him.
How could I have been so wrong? I shook my head and set about tying my shoes. Just in time for Kanami to slap her palm against the door jamb.
"Found Liesl. She’ll meet us in the parking lot in four.” She poked her head into my room. “How are you still tying your shoes? Seriously? You could have stolen two bases by—"
"Trying to psych myself up for this, Coach," I grumbled.
"What? Why?" She flicked her glossy, almost-black ponytail over her shoulder.
I stared. "The quarterback?" I pointed at her and added, "and not Seager."
"I thought you were over Mick." She held out her hands. "You made an announcement and everything."
"Ha ha. I am. Doesn’t mean I want to see him." With other girls around him. Wearing his tight football pants. And if he has that just-right amount of scruff on his face…I stuffed the feelings down. All of them. Way way down.
"And so we’re back to being a child," she said to the ceiling. "It’s a game, Ella. You’ll see him a few times in the huddle and maybe receive a pass or two from the guy. The football kind, not like a dating flirting thing."
I gave her a dark look that I’d hoped would melt her into goo.
"But who knows what could happen if you come to the group date afterward." She pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow.
"No way," I said with a groan. "I’ll make a donation to the charity, but I’m not going to that thing. I have a date with a hot shower and jammies. That's my definition of ‘why choose.’"
"Too bad the ‘spa-like showers’ are only in the locker rooms."
"Yeah," I sighed. "When we’re there, though, it’s always a rush to get out."
"So you’re good?" She zipped her sky-blue bomber jacket. "Psyched up and ready?"
A cold pit formed in my chest. "Don’t say it."
"Cause it’s All-American time." She punctuated the statement with jazz hands.
I rolled my head back on the edge of my bed and closed my eyes.
"Just stop. It was amazing last year, but I was running on anger. It wasn’t healthy and I was burning out.
Maddox helped me realize that." I sat up, again, staring at my knees. And then he left. God, he must’ve thought I was so needy.
My stomach squirmed again until it flipped over.
"Yeah yeah, heard this one. Although I’ve gotta say, you went totally overboard on the therapy thing. You didn’t need all that. Softball season’s always stressful. You just had to get some rest."
I shrugged, turning my attention back to my shoestrings. Kanami was mostly raised in Texas, but her father was old school—straight from Japan. Pretty sure he was cut from the cloth where sābisu zangyō was a way of life. Kanami's own work ethic was next-level, and not up for discussion.
"I still like the mindfulness exercises." Helps me deal with you.
"Whatever. Let's go already." She huffed and turned on her heel.
I found my feet and trailed after her, my cleats clacking on the linoleum with every step.
Snagging my duffel bag, I caught up to her in the apartment parking lot. The crisp February air bit at my fingers. I shuddered. My breath puffed and curled away. "Ugh, should've grabbed my—" I caught the tight set of Kanami's mouth and her narrow-eyed gaze, and stopped.
Last year, I would have taken it on myself to try to snap her out of her mood—sat in the passenger's seat, letting her vent, while ignoring the emotions that whirled and burned through me. This is a boundary.
The door locks clicked. I stepped back. "Hey, I'm going back for my coat. I'll meet you."
"Fine," she said and disappeared into her expensive sports coupe. I jogged back to our apartment, dropping my duffel on the porch as I pulled open the door.
The quiet greeted me like a longtime friend.
"Ella…” he whispered.
"It wasn't real." My breath shushed in the silence as I closed my eyes and tried to conjure the feel of his arms…the warmth of being tucked against him. Waiting. Breathless. Certain.
Instead, my mind tortured me with the last time I saw him.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” Maddox pulled his jeans over his legs and stood from the couch.
“Go? But…we were just…about to?” Weren’t we?
He didn’t look at me as he fastened his pants and restrung his belt. “Rain check.” He hadn’t removed his shirt, it remained untucked; he stuffed his feet in his trainers.
“I don’t understand.” My heart drained its contents into my stomach, quivered and went numb. My hands shook. Is he seriously leaving instead of sleeping with me? My skin flushed hot then cold.
“I can’t, Ella. It’s not…I have to focus, put the team first. That’s not fair to you.” He met my gaze and his blue-grey eyes said everything…haunted, hazy, hollow.
He didn’t feel the same way I did for him.
“Really, Maddox?” My heart stopped, and my lungs starved for breath. I felt “outside” myself—like this couldn’t possibly be happening. It couldn’t be real.
“I don’t—“
I clutched my hands against my bare chest. “Just get out.”
I opened my eyes and mentally slapped myself. You declared yourself over him. Be "over" him.
I grabbed my coat from the closet and remembered that I needed water. I moved to the kitchen, retrieved a sports bottle from the cupboard and turned—my gaze caught on the pot of lavender-pink mini roses in the window.
A different kind of warmth flooded my insides and pricked at my eyes. “You're as beautiful as the day he gave them to me," I spoke to the blooms. I brought the bottle to them and sprinkled the soil with water.
“I’ll always treasure you.” The ghost of my reflection shimmered in the window.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Dark chestnut hair dusted his forehead. He handed me the clay pot. A flowering shrub presented mini pinkish-lavender buds and perfectly formed, tiny roses.
My heart skipped ahead of its regular pace. "Oh." I breathed in their scent. "They’re amazing. And this color is. . ." I clutched the pot to my chest. Just friends, remember? We're supposed to be taking things slow.
"Breathtaking." His grey-blue eyes smoldered. The word hung, hopeful and heated in the silence.
I turned away as my heart tumbled and fell. "Can they survive here? Out of the greenhouse, I mean." I placed the plant in the window. "I'm not really good at keeping delicate things alive. With my travel schedule and—"
His hand on my arm was everything. He pulled me around to face him. "They’re stronger than they look." He gave me a lopsided grin that made my heart bloom like those flowers.
His mouth caught mine into a rough kiss.
An invisible band tightened around my chest, crushing my insides to the point of pain. I fought back the choking sob as my lungs emptied, burned. I’d been so sure he wanted me the same way I wanted…to be with him.
My coat slipped to the floor as I caught myself against the wall. Why am I not enough?
I let the tears fall for a few minutes before shutting off the memories. I wiped my eyes, pulled my jacket on and headed out.
We just weren't meant to be.