Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance Page 16

  All the hot sex aside, the difference in my spirits today was staggering. Ace and I were meeting up again later this week so we could start working on how to clear his name. And though we made no official mention of getting back together – I wasn't sure if I wanted that myself – it was on the table, and that possibility was all we needed. The only thing that mattered now was that we were there for each other, just like we always said we would be...

  “Hey, Ms. C!” Maria called out from behind me. “We're all heading over to my place – my grandma made a ton of enchiladas. You wanna come with?”

  “I'd love to, but I've got a report I gotta finish up for work.” I tightened the bow on my sneakers and got up, smiling ruefully. “You guys have fun.”

  “O-kay, but you're missing out.” Maria shrugged, waving at me as she joined the others at the studio door. “See you Friday.”

  When I saw Thumper heading out the door, I jogged up to him.

  “Thumper!” I flagged him down. “Wait up.”

  “What's up, Ms. C?” Thumper halted at the doorway. He stuck his thumbs in his hoodie pocket, grinning.

  “Have you seen Aiden around? Any idea why he's not here today?”

  “Aiden?” Thumper tensed up immediately, wagging his head furiously. “I don't know where he's at – I don't even talk to the guy – how would I know?”

  “Uh-huh...” I crossed my arms, squinching my eyes at the restless teenager in front of me. “I thought I saw you 2 walking up my apartment walkway the other day, but I mean, I guess I must have mistaken you for someone else –”

  “Oh, yeah, that was me,” said Thumper hurriedly. “I, uh, ran into him outside a GameStop. Thought I'd be friendly and reach out to him, no biggie. Anyway, they're waiting for me, so I'm gonna bounce.”

  “Okay. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Payce.”

  That was weird.

  I watched as Thumper darted down the steps and caught up with his friends. He peeked over his shoulder nervously, and when we made eye contact, his eyes bugged out once more. He flashed me another peace sign before disappearing around the corner with his friends.

  Yup, that was definitely weird.

  As usual, I was the last to leave the studio. I grabbed the rest of my things and headed out the door. But as I was locking up, a familiar voice behind me brought a smirk to my lips.

  “Nice pants. Do you prefer 'fashion victim', or 'ensembly challenged'?”

  “Ugh, as if!” I spun around, answering with another one of my favorite Clueless quotes.

  Tabitha was leaning against a lamppost on the curb. There was a brown bag from Charmaine's Bakery tucked underneath her folded arms. But as overjoyed as I was to see my best friend again, I walked over to her slowly, playing it cool.

  “I'm a little behind on my laundry, and these were the only things I could find.” I skewed my body sideways, flaunting the “JUICY” printed across my butt. “And might I remind you, you gave these to me in junior year.”

  “Oh, yeah. I did, didn't I?” Tabitha smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “And that's where they belong – 2004.”

  “Yeah? Well, I'll be rocking these till I'm 90 just to spite you.”

  Tabitha laughed, but she swiftly caught herself.

  “Listen, Brooks, I may have overreacted.” She flattened her back against the lamppost, rubbing her knuckles.

  “May have?”

  “Yeah, okay, sorry, I did – I overreacted. It's probably from being onstage for so long – things have been a little dull lately, so I don't know, maybe I was looking for a little drama to fill that void. Whatever it was, I was being a bitch and I took it out on you. I'm sorry.”

  I stared at Tabitha. I wanted to stay mad at her a little longer, but seeing the humbled look in her eyes and hearing the self-awareness in her remorseful tone, whatever anger I'd harbored flushed out of me. How could you stay mad at family?

  “Whatever, I'm over it.”

  “Good. I've got some time to kill if you do.” Tabitha jerked her chin to the side. “Got half a dozen of these red velvet donuts – they were the last ones they had at the shop. But I don't think I could finish these on my own. So, you want in on this, or what?”

  “Sure. Why not. Who doesn't have the time for anything red velvet?”

  “Thought so.” Tabitha's smile was back. “Come on. Let's roll.”

  Chapter Nine: Brooklyn

  2002

  There was a full moon out tonight, but it was still chillingly dark out, especially in this part of town. Only about 3 of the 12 lampposts on the block were working – sort of. Other than 1 or 2 cars turning a corner every 5 minutes or so, the streets were eerily quiet.

  But Tabitha needed me, so I needed to keep going.

  The weird thing was, Tabitha never said anything, but I knew something wasn't right. This morning, I waited for Tabitha at the MacArthur fountain so we could walk to class together like we did everyday, but she never showed up. Eventually, the bell rang, and I legged it. On my way to AP Lit, I saw her through the window of her English class. She was slumped over her desk with her head down, her shoulders shaking violently. I rushed off to find Tabitha as soon as the lunch bell rang, but Whitney told me she'd excused herself to go to the nurse's office halfway through English class, and was sent home.

  Tabitha had been upset all week with Jason Greene. She'd shown up to school with her eyes all pink and puffy the last couple of days, mumbling about some stupid fight she had with Jason the night before. They'd only been dating for 2 months, but Tabitha was obsessed with him. When she fell for someone, she fell hard. So when Tabitha called me last night at 2 in the morning, telling me that Jason had dumped her for Mia Porter, I knew it was coming. I didn't know what it was, exactly, but I knew it wasn't good.

  I decided to take a shortcut. I zipped up my jacket and ran across the playground. My nightie was flapping around my knees. I was running so fast I nearly ran into some homeless lady's cart. By the time I got to the small, 2-story house across the street, I had to hold on to the post on the front porch. I bent over, wheezing and shaking off the sweat on my face.

  Catching my breath, I groped around the garden for the spare key, and let myself into the house.

  I set the key down on the console table by the front door. The house was as still as it was on the streets. The only light on the first floor were the small beams of moonlight coming in through the gaps of the curtains. Tabitha's aunt was working a double-shift at the hospital tonight and wouldn't be home for at least another couple of hours, but I decided to tread lightly, anyway.

  I snuck up the stairs and crept all the way down to the last door on the hallway. Tabitha was lucky her aunt let her paint her bedroom door black. There were all sorts of glittery “Keep Out” stickers in black and red, posters and magazine cutouts of Avril Lavigne, and a name sign that read “Tabitha” nailed to her door. I took a step backwards. Blinking lights and the soft sounds of the TV drifted out from under the door.

  “Tabitha?”

  I knocked 3 times, but there was no answer.

  “Tabitha?”

  I knocked again, but this time, I pressed my ear against the door.

  “Tabitha? I'm coming in.”

  I twisted the doorknob, but when I opened that door, I felt a sharp stab in my chest.

  Tabitha's blankets and pillows were messed up, but her bed was empty. And there she sat, balled up in the corner, holding a razor blade shakily over her wrist. The lights from the TV flashed on her, lighting up only half of her in the dark room. Tears were gushing down her cheeks, but she wasn't making a sound.

  I closed the door behind me and knelt down beside her. Still saying nothing, I took the razor from her hand gently, and laid it on her nightstand. She didn't fight me.

  Seeing her at this state, I wanted to crumble and cry, too, but I didn't. I couldn't. I choked down my tears and dipped my hands underneath her arms, helping her up to her bed.

  Tabitha sniffled, gasping for a
ir noisily as she pulled her covers over herself. I wasn't going to say anything until she did – not that I knew what to say. She turned away from me, rolling over to her side. Sighing, I grabbed some tissue from her nightstand and blotted her cheeks with it.

  “I don't get it, Brooks.” Tabitha's squeaky voice reminded me of a little girl's. “Why doesn't anyone want me?”

  “Don't be ridiculous, Tabitha.” I swung my legs onto her bed and laid them out in front of me. “What's –”

  “Just answer me!”

  “Like I said, you're being ridiculous.” I nudged her with my toes. “I want you, don't I?”

  “You know what I mean,” said Tabitha huffily, rolling onto her back. She folded her fingers over her stomach and blew her hair out of her face. “Easy for you to say. You've got perfect skin, perfect teeth, never had a bad hair day. Everywhere we go, guys just can't stop looking at you. They act like I'm not even there.”

  “Well, I –”

  “I'm never gonna find love, am I?”

  “Tab, we're 14,” I pointed out bluntly. But when I saw the unchanging look of defeat on her face, I softened. “We've got our whole lives ahead of us –”

  “Yeah, but I wanted Jason,” Tabitha sunk deeper into her pillow, clutching her covers. “I thought he was gonna be my whole life – and I thought he felt the same way, too. And it was all my fault –”

  “No, it wasn't, Tabitha –”

  “I should've seen the signs.” Tabitha's voice cracked. “Jason's been so annoyed with me because I wouldn't have sex with him. I mean, he touches my boobs all the time, and I think my hand brushed over his thing once, but that's as far as I'll go. I just wasn't ready, you know? I mean, the only reason he's with Mia is 'cause of all those rumors going around about how easy she is, that slut –”

  “You did the right thing.” I placed a firm hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “If Jason was pressuring you like that, he doesn't care about you, and he doesn't deserve you. He's nothing but a – as TLC would put it – a scrub.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Tabitha pouted. “I hate it when you're right. Stop looking so smug – acting like you know everything.”

  “Can't help it.” I hopped off her bed, grinning at her. “Okay, I may not know everything, but I do know one thing that's gonna cheer you up.”

  I poked around the clutter under Tabitha's TV, put the only DVD that was still in its box inside the player, and climbed under the covers next to her.

  But as “Clueless” in purple bubble letters appeared on the screen, the bed started shaking again. I wrapped an arm around Tabitha and held her close to me. Her tears began seeping into the shoulder of my jacket. I made no comments. I just kept untangling the knots in her hair, my eyes directed at the TV.

  Not even 10 minutes into the movie, Tabitha was snoring on my shoulder.

  Chapter Ten: Brooklyn

  2016

  “I'm gonna head upstairs now.” I gave Tabitha a quick hug and made my way to the front door of my apartment building. “Text me when you land.”

  “Will do. Don't miss me too much now, you hear?” Tabitha waved at me, slamming the door shut.

  As Tabitha's cab drove off, I headed up to my apartment. I was on good terms with both Ace and Tabitha again. Everything felt right with the world. I was in such a good mood I'd nearly forgotten about the whole Whitaker fiasco. So when that squeezed right back into my thoughts, it suddenly felt like I had a ball and chain strapped around my ankles.

  As I stepped out of the elevator, the floors were quaking with the metallic beats blasting out of my apartment. I'd never been so grateful to hear Diplo in my life. I walked up to my apartment and unlocked the door.

  “You've got that on a little loud, don't you think?”

  Aiden glanced over at me from the dance floor he created on the living room, but he carried on. He jerked his shoulders and bopped his legs to the spastic beat, his body one with the music. I hung up my purse and kicked off my shoes, nodding to the catchy tune.

  Aiden kicked out one leg and glided across the floor, rolling out a smooth wave from his hips to his leg. I tilted my head in awe. Fascinated, I leaned against the kitchen counter, my lips jutted out and turned down, observing him.

  But as soon as the bridge of the song came on, a grunting Aiden came to a stop.

  “You were doing great.” I approached him cautiously. “What's wrong?”

  “I've been trying to figure out what to do with the bridge for days,” said Aiden, punting his bag aside. “Everything I come up with just seems lame.”

  “Mind if I try something?”

  Aiden fell back on the couch.

  “Go ahead.”

  I rewound the song and walked up to the empty square in the living room. As I waited for the bridge to come on, I counted myself off in my head. I closed my eyes, listening to the lyrics as I allowed the music take control of me.

  “Say my name, I wanna hear you call,

  Hold me close, I wanna feel your heart,

  I'm in a cold sweat and I want you bad,

  Now you got me all in my head, like damn.”

  I sprang up from the floor, my eyes fluttering open.

  “Never discount the lyrics. It's a slow buildup to the chorus. Your technique is flawless, but don't afraid to be vulnerable. Of course, that's just me –”

  “I like it.” Aiden got up and rewound the track once more. “Will you show me?”

  “My pleasure.” I pointed to the spot next to me. “Come on.”

  When the bridge came up again, Aiden echoed each sequence to a T. Yeah, what I'd come up with on the spot was pretty easy, but his ability to pick things up and his shrewd attention to detail was insane. It was like he wasn't even trying.

  “Hold on. Instead of this – ”

  Aiden spread his arms and crouched down, crossing them over his chest.

  “How's this?”

  Aiden clutched his head and threw his head back, jerking it twice. My jaw started to slack. He did a soft tumble over the floor, landing gracefully on one knee. Then, his arms stretched forth, forming a bird's wings with his hands. He flapped his hands and pushed them over his heart, the wave flowing through his arms and back to his chest so swift, but so gentle all at once.

  “That was beautiful.”

  Aiden got up from the floor and paused the song on his phone.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. He looked down at his feet, pink slowly creeping across his cheeks.

  “So.” I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to him. “You signing up for a talent show at school, or...?”

  “No. I'm graduating in a couple of months. Dad wants me to take over the restaurant – there's no way my father's going to pay for college for me. Which is understandable, I guess. There's this dance competition – winner gets a $10,000 scholarship to Julliard.”

  Aiden feigned a cough, his shoulders squaring.

  “I mean, I'm not delusional, I know what the talent's like out there, I just thought I'd give it a shot –”

  “It's not delusional at all,” I cut him off sternly. “Believe me – the judges are going to be the ones feeling privileged when they see you up there. But one thing's for sure – that's not the kind of attitude that's gonna win you that scholarship.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “So, is this why you didn't show up to the studio today?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Aiden reached for the towel behind him and hung it around his shoulders. “I meant to leave you a note, but I guess it slipped my mind. Won't happen again.”

  “Make sure it doesn't. I got real worried there for a minute. Just text me next time if you need some time off for class. I mean, you're staying here at the moment, so you are my responsibility.”

  “My father cut off my phone line, but I'll let you know in advance next time.” Aiden straightened up in his seat, looking at me seriously. “Right, and about that. I realized I've never really thanked you for taking me in – I'm still looking for a part-tim
e job so I can find some way to repay you for all the rent and food –”

  “Forget about it.” I raised a hand, stopping him. “I'm happy to help, I really am. For now, why don't you just focus on finishing up the rest of the semester, and I'll take care of the rest. But listen, Aiden, whatever trouble you're in – you gotta let me in on it, or I won't be able to help you. What happened?”

  Aiden turned restless, shifting in his seat.

  “Well, uh, my father kicked me out of the house. Said I was on my own.”

  “And what led up to that?” I turned towards him, encouraging his gaze. “Or did this just come out of nowhere?”

  “Came home after school one day.” Aiden's voice was emotionless, but his jaw was clenched tightly. “Dad had been looking through my computer history, and had a transcript of all the incoming and outgoing text messages from my phone.”

  I kept my eye contact steady, waiting for him to continue.

  “Uh.” Aiden scooched further away from me, dropping his gaze. “Let's just say he was disappointed I wasn't interested in carrying on the family name. Not biologically, anyway. Only son and all that.”

  “I see.” That was all I said, but I understood immediately. “How long have you known?”

  “What, that I'm gay?” Aiden chuckled hoarsely. His eyebrows flicked upwards as the words left his lips, as if it were the first time he'd ever heard it out loud. “I dunno. Guess I've always known, really. I never liked hanging out with the girls on the playground, even when the hormones kicked in... Yeah, it didn't take too long to figure that out. Never had a girl around – or anyone, really – I think Dad's always suspected, and I guess when he finally had proof... well, you know.”

  “And what about the bruises?”

  “Dad's version of tough love. I dunno,” said Aiden apathetically, but I could see the strain in his smile. “But really, it's whatever. I've always been well-fed, I'm about to graduate from one of the top private schools in the country. People have it much worse.”