Falling for Seven (13 page)

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Authors: T.A. Richards Neville

BOOK: Falling for Seven
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Unknown:
Is this for real? If this isn’t a joke, then sure, I’ll switch and take Seven off your hands. Who wouldn’t want to partner with him?

 

Me,
I thought. I wouldn’t want to partner with him.

I smiled and replied that we would swap whatever notes we had already taken and she should let her partner know to make sure it’s cool.

“Who the fuck is that?” Julian’s eyes narrowed in on my turn of mood.

“Your new partner in Sociology,” I said. I couldn’t hide my smile when I saw how unhappy he looked about that. It was an ideal scenario: New partner, Julian pissed off.

Life was good.

“You’re trading me off? With who?”

“Sidney,” I said. “I believe you guys already know each other so it shouldn’t be too awkward.”

“Yeah, I’m not switching. You can text her back and tell her that.”

Okay, I had maybe not thought about him saying no.

“Actually, let me do it.” He took his phone out of his pocket and my short-lived triumph pummeled to the ground with an almighty bang.

I wasn’t surprised he had Sidney’s number, he may well have had the whole female population stored in that tiny cell, but I still heard myself saying, “What’re you doing?”

“Letting Sidney know it isn’t happening. In your dreams are you getting rid of me that easy.”

“You don’t like me,” I said, mad at his fast-paced thumbs spoiling my second good turn of the day. “And I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, patronizing. “Let’s go get Taj. He’s gonna shit a brick when he sees you’re here.”

That stopped me. I thought I hadn’t been around long enough to leave a lasting impression. “He will?”

“Yeah, man. I think he’s got a little crush on you, and I can’t say I blame him.”

“I think you need to get checked out for a personality disorder, but I’m flattered,” I said. Then added, “About him, not you.”

“I should warn you,” said Julian, getting up off the wall. “He’s trouble. And a little bit of a pervert.”

“Yeah, that makes two of you,” I said behind his back.

 

 

12: Julian

 

TAJ AND ANGEL SLURPED at matching banana milkshakes while I nursed a glass of iced water, all my efforts in not letting today end in another verbal war. I’d felt bad for Angel when I saw her crying, regardless of how much of a jockstrap the guy was who fucked her off. But looking at her now, it was taking all my strength not to bring up how much of a spineless idiot I thought she was every time her phone beeped and she made no attempt to cover up how stupidly over the moon she was. She dropped her phone to the table and looked underneath at her pink and black Vans, then signed to Taj to show her his new sneakers.

Sick,
she signed, admiring his gray and black board shoes.

“You really didn’t need to buy those,” I said, with a sour note in my voice. I told her I got it, but she flat-out ignored me and bought them anyway.

“Yeah, I did,” she corrected me. “It’s only money and it’s only shoes. What’s the big deal? Nobody died.”

You might,
my twisted mind thought.

She laid her hand on Taj’s skinny little arm and his blue eyes flicked up to her face.
You like your shoes, right?

He nodded his head, his straw still stuck between his lips. He would have liked it if she bought him a shovel with a heaping pile of shit on it. And as much as I wanted her to know that, I kept my mouth shut for the sake of the peace.

“It’s only money when you are bred from a bottomless pit of it.”

“I wasn’t bred.”

I stretched my arm across the high-gloss table and dragged her pen and notebook in front of me. She leaned over the table to see what I was writing but I pulled the book farther away. “What’re you writing?” she asked. “That better not be about me.”

“Of course it’s about you. First fact of the day: you are rich.”

“My dad is your football coach, I am not rich.”

“Fact about me.” I continued writing, ignoring her grievance. “I am poor.” Angel sat back, her pissy eyes glowering at me through her glasses. “Another fact about you.”

She wasn’t listening, her gaze focused on the mall crowd.

“Angel. Fact about you?”

She heard me that time. “Oh, you’re actually asking me?”

“Hurry up.”

“I’m half Mexican. Now you, seeing as we’re acting like immature children.”

“You’re the one with the milkshake. I am full American, and I already guessed that about you. Feisty Latina, it suits you.”

She rolled her eyes but it only succeeded in making me smile.

“I lived with my mom and dad in California. He moved back to Boston not long after I was born. This is where he’s from. After that I stayed with my mom until I came here,” she said when I shrugged my shoulders waiting for her answer.

“I live with my mom and my brother.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“With his new family in New Jersey.” I switched it back to her. “I never knew coach had a wife.” O’Hara wasn’t the type for family pics around his computer screen. If he wasn’t talking football he wasn’t talking at all.

“He doesn’t,” she said, leaning in for a drink of milkshake. “They were never married.”

“Your mom stayed in Cali?”

“God knows.”

My pen halted as I looked at her. “You don’t know where your mom is?”

“No. She left one day and my dad brought me here,” she said like it was no big thing.

“She just bailed?”

“She’s no stranger to running away. In the beginning I think my dad drove her away. She didn’t exactly fit into his world.”

“How come?”

“My dad is very,” she searched for the right word, “professional, and a perfectionist. My mom… isn’t.”

I started writing again. This was easy. “Okay, next fact: you don’t get on with coach any more than the rest of us.”

“Are we going that personal?” she asked, regretting having fed me so much of her personal info. “I don’t want the whole class to know about my dysfunctional family.”

“Next fact: comes from a dysfunctional family.” She swiped the pen from my hand while I grinned from ear to ear.

“You’re a shit.” She snatched the book, scribbling out what I had written.

Taj stood up, glaring at me. You could always tell he was mad when his nostrils flared.
Don’t upset her.

She’s not upset,
I signed. It was a task not to crack a smile at his angry red cheeks.
I would never hurt her.

Not physically.

I can understand you,
Angel signed, frowning at me.

Can we go to the skate park?
Julian signed, shifting to a different subject.

Angel looked at me, waiting for my answer.

“We’re supposed to be doing the assignment. That’s it.” If she gave me a chance to do anything with her, it wouldn’t be wasted on the skate park. But maybe I’d go, butter her up a little—wear her down. Give her something to think about other than Jordan.

“Well I’m not going to be the one to disappoint him,” Angel said, and then signed,
it’s up to Julian, but we could always go just the two of us if he says no.

I heard Taj’s laughter, but I’d stopped paying attention. Not when Kit and Katlyn detached themselves from the crowd of shoppers. Katlyn saw me first, and she gave Kit’s arm a slight shake to get her attention. Kit paused, saw us, and then smiled. They were coming over here.

Fuck.

“Hi, Jules.” Kit looked at Angel, confusion on her face as clear as water. “Hi,” she said after a while.

“Hi,” said Angel with the flip of her hand in a small wave.

I could practically see the assumptions galloping through Kit’s mind. Her smile was full of cracks. If she said one word…

“Oh, hi, who are you, cutie?” She bent down to Taj’s level, but he was engrossed in his milkshake, not hearing a word of what she was saying to him.

She straightened up, smiling awkwardly, the sting of snobbery smeared all over her face. “Guess he doesn’t like me.”

I didn’t know what Angel did, but Taj’s head shot up, his eyes finding hers.

Say Hi to Kit,
she signed.
She’s your brother’s girlfriend.

Taj looked at me for a second, his eyes wider. He pushed his fingers through the hair hanging over his forehead and then signed to kit,
Hi Julian’s girlfriend.

I wiped my hand over my eyes and shook my head.

Kit glanced at me in discomfort. She looked fucking scared. I was about to throw her a lifejacket for her drowning performance when she said, “Hi,” loud enough for the whole food court to hear.

“He’s deaf,” I quickly stepped in. “He can’t hear you.”

“Oh.” Kit looked like she might start to cry and fiddled with the paper handles of her shopping bags. Katlyn checked the time on her watch and then yawned.

If you’re so bored then just do us all a favor and fuck off.

A cell rang, and Katlyn dug through her purse to get it out. “This must be Nicky.” She turned around to take the phone call.

“I never knew you had a brother. Or that he was deaf.” I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing at all. “Sorry, why are you two together?” She waved her finger between me and Angel.

“We’re in the same Sociology class and we have an assignment,” Angel spoke up before I could breathe a word. “That’s what this is.”

I sat up higher in my seat and reached forward to grab one of Kit’s bags—the Victoria Secret one. “This for me?” I raked through the crate paper and lifted out a pink gift box.

“Don’t open that.” Kit’s cheeks flamed and she took back the box, stuffing it in the bag.

I smiled at the flush in her cheeks. “I just hope it’s crotchless.”

Kit smoothed her hair behind her ear and slanted a quick glance at Taj. He didn’t care about her, he was too busy with his PSP. “Are you coming over tonight?” she whispered.

I let out a gruff laugh, not missing Angel’s dirty look. “Seriously, kit, he can’t hear you. You don’t need to whisper.”

I felt bad enough about Taj. She didn’t need to make it any worse.

“Stop it.” Kit looked down at Taj with a wide smile on her face when he looked up at her. He must have sensed her awkward discomfort. “Bye, Taj!” she called out loudly.

Angel muffled her laughter with her hand when I rolled my eyes while kit wasn’t looking. I stood up before she left and hooked her in by the waist, my palm flat on her back possessively. I dipped my head for a kiss and she gave in willingly, transitioning from flustered to calm in seconds. “I’ll come by around ten. Wear whatever’s in that box.”

When kit and Katlyn left, Angel picked up the pen and started writing in her notebook. The ink slid over the lines with ease while she fiddled with the bun on her head with her other hand. “What are you writing?” I asked, the one frowning now.

“Next fact,” she read aloud as she wrote, “bigger player off the field than on the field.” Then she looked up at me seriously behind her glasses, her hand still twirling loose strands of hair. “How come she didn’t know about Taj?”

I shrugged. My home life and college life were two things I liked to keep separate. “So I don’t have to see her act like that.”

So I don’t have to feel like shit, knowing what everyone else will never know.

“She might not have acted like that if she’d had a heads-up. It was thrown at her and she was caught off guard. You should treat her a little better, she does have feelings as well as a vagina.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Angel shook her head in disgust. “I’m kidding,” I said.

Taj powered off his PSP.
Can we go to the park now?

I’m going to take him anyway. Come or don’t come,
I signed to Angel, now we had Taj’s attention.

I’m coming,
she signed.
But your invite was so lovely, you should think about putting it on a card.

 

 

<>

 

The skate park was full and Taj hit the halfpipe with more skill than the kids twice his age.

“He’s good.” Angel held her A4 notebook pressed against her chest and watched Taj drop back down the smooth, gray slope. “Who taught him?” She lowered her gaze to me. “You?”

I sat on the step below where she stood with her arm resting along the railing, her foot kicked up behind her on the red bar. “Nah. He mostly taught himself. Watching TV, coming here, that kind of thing. He’s a quick learner.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

“He looks younger. I think it’s his hair. He has your eyes, though.”

My jaw set when her phone chirped. I knew she was checking it but I didn’t turn to look.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this with Sidney?” she asked me, holding her phone in her hands.

“Is that her?”

I turned to see a glimpse of hesitancy. “No, it’s not her. I just wanted to make sure.”

“You don’t think we can do this?”

Her posture picked up a bold superiority. “I can do anything. It’s more like a case of
want
.” She flipped me a self-satisfied tilt of her head and I smiled.

I stood up and moved to stand in front of her, my hand on the railing at the tips of her fingernails. She was close. Close enough that I could see everything in her stance shift, the pattern of her slightly uneven breaths underneath her T-shirt. I bothered her. It didn’t matter how, just that I did. It was a start.

“Put your money where your mouth is,” I said. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and I felt like going ahead and kissing her—shutting her up once and for all. “You need to loosen up. I could help with that if you want.”

“You are all talk, Julian.”

I moved in closer, inching my fingers so they lapped over hers. She mustn’t have realized because she never moved them. “You wanna find out?”

There was something hot about the way she kept her cool around me and I wanted to know more and more what it would take for the freeze-out to end.

“It almost makes me want to laugh, the way you have come to your own conclusion that all women were born without the ability to say no to you.”

At least she ended that on a smile.

I looked over my shoulder to check Taj was okay. He had moved on to a smaller skating ramp farther down, but I could still see him.

“I don’t think that. But I know I could change your mind.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. They were lighter under direct sunlight, a bright, reflective gold. Her fingers slipped out from under mine and she held her book against her chest with two arms.

“Arrogant much?”

“Not arrogant. Confident.”

“Too confident.”

I shook my head. She was two steps higher than me and I put my hands on the lower rungs of the railing, caging in her thighs. “No such thing,” I said. “Just tell me one thing?”

“What’s that?” I could tell she wanted to move—gather some space—but there was nowhere for her to run.

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