Light Unshaken (Unveiled #2) (10 page)

I ran after him. “Dee, wait.”

He snatched a bike propped against the wall. A second after getting on it, he slammed his fist against the handlebars and huffed something in Spanish.

I followed his eyes to slashed tires and bent rims.

He shoved the whole thing into the building and strode down the street before I could utter a word.

He couldn’t just leave. If Tito jacked up his bike, he could do worse to Dee. I started to go after him, but A. J. caught my hand. “Let him go.”

The farther Dee strutted away, the farther the gap between us expanded. Trey was right. The kid needed hope. But if he really did pull out of Tito’s gang, what did that mean for him? For the center?

chapter fifteen

Rivalry

Four days of cramming for my corporate finance exam hadn’t erased the mark Dee’s eyes left on my heart. Even a night out with my friends lacked the potential of curbing it.

Jaycee opened her closet. “Have you told Riley about the assault yet?”

I looked up from my desk. Where’d that come from? “I don’t want to bring it up.”

She sifted through a row of hangers. “Have you thought about why that is?”

Nothing like having my own personal shrink. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s here to do anything about it.” A resonance of bitterness ricocheted off the wall straight to my gut.

Jaycee tugged a knit sweater over her head and smoothed out her hair. “Regardless, he’d want to know. If you lose honesty in your relationship, you lose everything.”

I chucked a pencil into the crease of my textbook. “He doesn’t need me to be honest. He needs me to be strong.”

She turned, hands falling from her ear. “Are you hearing yourself right now? He needs you to be
real
. You can’t hold things back from him, Em. It’s all or nothing. That’s how love goes. You know, the whole ‘for better or worse’ thing?”

I twisted my engagement ring around my finger. “He’ll freak out if I tell him.”

She finished clasping on an earring. “So, let him.”

Head cocked, I gave her a look she flaunted right back.

Why did she have to be so good at shining a light on areas I’d rather leave undisturbed?

Leaning on my desk, I pushed up from my chair. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell him the next time he calls.”

The florescent flyer on my dresser sent one source of dread chasing another. I lugged my favorite college hoodie over my head and glowered at Jaycee again. “I still can’t believe you’re making me go to the game tonight. I don’t even
like
football.”

She dropped her cell on her dresser and stared at me, mouth slack. “Okay, first of all, that’s an abomination. And second of all, it’s not really about liking football. It’s about having school spirit and hanging out with your friends. It’ll be fun.”

I straightened the front of my sweatshirt and pointed to the words, REED COLLEGE. “Ahem. Sporting school spirit right here, thank you very much.”

Eyes rolling, she nudged me into the hallway. “Nice try.” She tossed me a pair of fleece gloves. “Here.”

I looked up at her. “It’s September.”

“The
end
of September.” She shrugged. “It might get cold after the sun goes down.”

Perfect.

I affixed a permanent smile on my face for her sake. And for Riley’s. He’d probably include attending football games as part of the
“enjoy your senior year”
plea he’d made me.

“You better know how much I love you,” I said to Jaycee on our way down the staircase.

Outside the door, Becky pounced on me with her usual bubbling-over cheer. A side braid bobbed against her shoulder as she curled an arm around mine. “Looks like the two of us have a date tonight.”

A date? She motioned to A. J. and Ashlea standing face to face beside the curb. Right. That left Becky and me as the odd ones out of the group. At least it was better than being the
only
single one.

She skipped down the walkway, tugging me along.

Ashlea stroked her finger over the line painted down the middle of A. J.’s face—white on one side, maroon on the other. He could’ve passed for a warrior preparing for battle.

Laughing, I spun in the opposite direction. Apparently, not fast enough.

A. J. turned me back around. “What’s so funny?”

Seeing him head on only made it worse. “Nothing. You just look . . . really . . . um, spirited.”

Becky giggled.

Ashlea butted between A. J. and me like a linebacker blocking him from an opponent. “He looks perfect.” She perched her nose in the air. “We’re playing our rival school, Emma. It wouldn’t hurt you to have a little more spirit yourself.”

I pointed at my college sweatshirt again. Was I the only one who could read? Something covered the top of my head from behind.

“She can borrow some of mine.” Trevor popped in front of me and flaunted a mischievous grin while straightening out what must’ve been a Reed College ball cap he was lending me for the evening.

Offering me a furtive wink, he called behind him, “Looks like we’re ready now.” He draped his arm over my shoulders. “Come on, Cheer Captain. Let’s go show these punks what it means to ball on our turf.”

I tugged on the bill of the hat as we walked. “Thanks. For a minute there, I thought you were going to give me a glow-in-the-dark necklace or something.”

He tapped his coat, alluding to something hidden inside his pocket. “Have no fear. I wouldn’t dream of letting you down.”

Ignoring him, I peeked over my shoulder and couldn’t help but laugh. We looked like a group of misfit soldiers marching into a battle zone with flaunted valor.

The closer we got to the field, the louder the school band’s fight song blared from the stands. Our mascot danced along the edge of the track, cueing each section of fans for their turn to cheer. Flags and noisemakers circled above droves of maroon and white shirts and faces. The odor of greasy concessions and sweat blew in from the sports field to top it all off.

“Jae, you’re seriously trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

She slipped on her gloves. “Stop whining before we make you go dance with Griffin Boy over there.”

Fat chance that was happening.

With Trevor bulldozing a path through the crowd, we found an opening on one of the bleachers with enough space for us to fit as a group. Of course, that meant climbing over a couple of guys to get to it.

The pair forced their legs to the side as we each squeezed by, apologizing profusely as we went. The burly one turned at the perfect moment. I tripped over his knees and grabbed his shoulders to keep from landing smack in his lap. He steadied me at the waist with two groping hands. A grin slanted beneath blond hair with more grease than the half-eaten hotdog beside him.

I scurried into the empty seat and let the cold bleacher beneath my legs drain the heat from my face. A. J. sat next to me with Ashlea hovering closely on his other side.

So much for Becky and I rallying together.

I pulled my sweatshirt hood over my hat to blind my peripheral vision. If I could get into the game long enough to block out questions about Dee and thoughts of telling Riley the truth, maybe I’d stand a chance at enduring the night.

Fifteen minutes of trying to follow the calls from the field killed that possibility.

A sideways glance caught A. J. demolishing a tub of popcorn. Attention fastened to the action, he sustained a continual circular motion from the bowl to his mouth.

“You better slow down there before you wear out your bicep.” I pointed at the griffin still cheering on the crowd. “Never know, he might pick you to throw a pass at halftime.”

Either A. J. didn’t hear me, or he was flat out ignoring me. Were we back to the cold shoulder thing again? Or was it because Ashlea was here?

Without warning, something nailed me dead in the face. A single piece of popcorn bounced into my lap. “Cute.”

“What?” He cupped his hand around his ear and chomped with extra gusto.

I launched the rogue piece of popcorn back at him.

He blocked it with his palm. “Oh, you don’t want to start this.”

Before I could respond to the challenge, a handful of popcorn flew at me. It took me a second to shake the kernels from my hair and the stunned look from my face. I reached for two fistfuls from his tub. He pulled away, forcing me to climb over him to get to it.

Ashlea blasted to her feet. “I’m going to get a soda.” She clambered over us, staring me down the entire way. Her silent scold edged me back into my designated seat.

I slid my hands under my legs and gripped the ribbed bleacher. It seemed colder than when we first sat down.

“So,” I said once she made it down the stairs. “You and Ashlea, huh?”

A. J. scratched his chin. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to have a talk with her about that.”

“What do you mean?” I faced him, but his stare didn’t budge from the field.

“Ashlea’s great. I just don’t think I can give her what she wants.” He set the popcorn tub down. “I’m not looking forward to having that conversation.”

Couldn’t blame him. Especially after he’d been on the receiving end of a similar one last year.

The reminder of that night in the gym when he told me he loved me pulsed from a scar that had never fully healed.

“I’m sorry.”
For so much.

Letting out a low chuckle, he prodded me with his elbow. “At least we know there’ll be survivors, right?”

My face fell.

He laughed. “Aw, c’mon. I’m teasing, Em. Just trying to keep things from being awkward.”

“Um, you might wanna try another game plan.” I shouldered him into the empty space on his other side.

He stayed hunched over, rubbing his arm and laughing harder. I reached for the popcorn again. Scrambling to block me, A. J. accidentally bumped into the students in front of us.

Two freshman boys decked out in Reed fanfare pivoted in their seats, about to stand up. One look at A. J.’s size must’ve made them think twice.

A senior girl wearing a student council blazer whipped her long blonde ponytail around. Though she didn’t make a peep, the reprimand in her expression blared louder than the band’s horn section.

I leaned into A. J. “I’d take on the guys over Blondie, if I were you.”

Smiling, he pressed his shoulder against mine. “Good call.”

Ashlea slinked back through the narrow space in front of us and drew our conversation to a standstill. A. J. and I sat facing forward with our attention fixed on the halftime show.

In perfect sync with the setting sun, a glow-in-the-dark necklace waded down the row. I ignored A. J.’s not-so-subtle smirk as he handed it to me with far too much enjoyment. I clipped it around my neck and brandished a half-smile at Trevor’s cheesy grin beaming from the end of the bleacher.

“Very techno,” A. J. said from the corner of his mouth.

I elbowed him. “Oh, shut up, Mr. Finger Paint.”

He flashed me an incredulous look. “Why you keep startin’ somethin’ you know you can’t finish?”

“Psh, please.”

That did it. A. J. maneuvered past my flailing hands and the bill of my hat and almost got close enough to wipe paint from his cheek to mine. He squeezed my side. I squealed right as Ashlea passed a phone to me.

Riley’s number glared at me from the screen. My stomach tightened. I eased back into my seat and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey.”

“You all right? You didn’t answer your phone, so I called Jaycee’s.”

I patted my pockets for my cell. “Sorry. I must not have heard it.”

“Too preoccupied?”

What was that supposed to mean? Like he was one to say anything about missing calls.

“We’re at a football game. It’s kinda loud.” And definitely not the right time or place to tell him about the attack. “Can I call you when it’s over?”

He didn’t answer at first. “I’m about to go into a rehearsal. I’ll call on my next break.”

“Okay.” Not that I’d be ready then either. “Bye.” Holding the phone with both hands, I stared at my lap. This was going to be even harder than I thought.

A. J. shifted on the bench, straightened out his jeans. “Everything all right?”

Nothing seemed all right anymore. I passed off a smile and Jaycee’s cell. “Yep.”

I tucked my hands into my hoodie pocket and tried to focus on the game. At least I could put off the call a little longer.

After far too many drawn-out plays, the football spiraled down the field. I inched to the edge of the bleacher and lunged to my feet at the same time as everyone else. Holding our breath, we all tilted toward the end zone. The ball skimmed past the defender’s hands and landed in our running back’s secure grip.

Between all the jumping and hollering, I could barely see over the student in front of me. Not that I needed a direct line of sight to the field to know we’d just scored a touchdown.

The stands erupted in chaos. The sweet taste of victory sent all Reedies practically toppling over each other. At least, everyone but A. J. and me. I didn’t dare hug him with Miss Ice Queen standing guard on his opposite side.

A tap on my shoulder drew me toward the devilish grin of the burly guy I’d tripped over earlier. His eyebrows bobbed with an open, and entirely too eager, invitation for a hug.

On instinct, I slid toward A. J. and wrapped my arm around his.

He peered toward the source of my reaction and laughed against my hair.

Great. What was I thinking? He’d probably throw me into the ghoulish-looking guy’s arms as retaliation for the face paint crack I’d made. I grounded my feet, but A. J. draped his long arm over my shoulders instead.