Things I Can't Forget (15 page)

“It’s late,” I whisper.

“To be continued?” he asks, smiling. “When I get back from Mexico?”

Even though I’ll miss him like crazy, I’m grateful for the break. For the chance to figure out how to balance the physical part of our relationship with the emotional. Andrea would probably give Matt whatever he wants. What scares me is that I want to give Matt whatever he wants. Not because I’m scared of losing him.

Because I want to show him how much I care.

Because I’m falling in love with all of him.

Because I kind of want it too.

•••

“You want to go where?”

Parker and I spent the first few days of break riding bikes, swimming, and lying out in the sun, and that was really fun, but I never imagined Parker would invite me to a Fourth of July party at Jordan Woods’s house. Jordan is Sam Henry’s girlfriend, and like him, she probably has no idea who I am. I, however, know exactly who Jordan is. Former captain and quarterback of the Hundred Oaks High football team.

Loud rap music rings through the trees. Lit torches with flames reaching toward the sky dot the yard, along with tables and tables of food and drinks.

“Uhhh,” I say to Parker. “I’ve never been to a party like this.”

“I don’t like them much, either,” she whispers back. “We’ll just say hi and then come up with an excuse to leave, okay?”

“Then why are we here?”

She jerks her head toward Will. A bunch of boys from the baseball team rush up to surround him, talking about how the Braves blew a 3–2 lead in the ninth.

Will never lets go of Parker’s hand as he talks and even kisses her knuckles from time to time. No one is talking to me, and I wish so bad that Matt were here, but he’s not. He’s in Cabo. What if Andrea comes on to him? What if he changes his mind about me while he’s in Mexico?

Leaving Parker and Will with the baseball players, I make my way toward one of the many drink tables. On my way, a really cute guy catches my eye and smiles. He abandons the guy he was talking to and stalks toward me with a major swagger.

My breath catches in my throat. The guy must be six-four, and he has these ginormous muscles and gorgeous blond hair. “Hey,” he says, checking out my jean shorts.

“Hi,” I say, not sure of what to do with my hands.

“I’m Jake.” He thrusts out a hand and I take it.

“Kate.”

“Are you a friend of Jordan’s?”

“No,” I say, swallowing hard. “We’re not friends.”

“Oh, good.”

“Why is that good?”

“Jordan gets pissed if I talk to her friends.”

“Are you her brother?” He fits the mold. Tall, blond, Adonis-like. But not as Adonis-like as Matt.

He laughs. “Her brother’s my best friend.” He takes a step closer to me, where I can see a few freckles on his nose. “Want to go for a walk down by the docks?” he says quietly. He slides a hand onto my shoulder. It doesn’t feel good or exciting. It only reminds me of how much I miss Matt. It scares me a little, to realize I am beginning to depend on him like I depended on Emily. I don’t think I will lose him, but I can’t help but worry about how much I’ve come to count on him being around.

“I have a boyfriend,” I tell Jake.

“I can understand why,” he replies, scanning my body again and taking a step closer. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Okay…”

He grins a lazy grin, then whispers, “Do you believe in love at first sight…? Or should I walk by you again?”

I open my mouth to speak, then shut it again. “Really? Did you really just say that?”

“Reynolds!” I hear a voice yell. Jake jumps away from me, eyes wide. I turn to see Jordan stalking this way. “Get away from her before I get medieval on your ass!”

Jordan walks right up and takes Jake by the bicep and yanks him over to another guy, who looks a lot like Jordan. He hands Jake a beer. She yells at both guys and points toward the house and basically makes a big scene. The guys laugh at her and go back to drinking their beers.

I need something to do with my empty hands, so I dip my fingers into a bucket of slushy ice to search for a can of Coke or a bottled water. But all I can see are beer, wine, wine coolers, and more beer. Where are Jordan Woods’s parents anyway? Her dad is a famous football player, so he must travel all the time.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Jordan has reappeared beside me. She’s wearing a bright gold Purdue T-shirt.

“Um,” I say, turning my focus toward the grass. Jordan is like a foot taller than me and she’s supermodel gorgeous and strong and well-respected by just about everybody. I’ve never actually spoken to her but I’ve always admired how she follows her dreams.

“I’m sorry about Reynolds,” Jordan says, smacking some chewing gum. “He’s a perv.”

I nod slowly and consider calling Daddy to ask him to come pick me up. Parker and Will are still chatting with people.

“Did you want a drink?” Jordan asks again.

“I don’t drink,” I reply.

She thrusts her hand down into the bucket and whips out a root beer, which she passes to me. Then she pulls out another and pops the tab. “I don’t drink either,” she says, taking a sip. “I’m not messing up my body when I’ve got football to play.”

“I don’t want to mess up my body either,” I tell her.

“Nice,” she says, tapping her can against mine. “Cheers.” She jerks her head toward a picnic table over by a lush garden full of cornstalks and sunflowers. Sam Henry, JJ, and Joe Carter are playing flip cup and slurping beers. “My boyfriend doesn’t mind messing himself up.”

“That stinks,” I say. Sam’s as popular as Jordan, and I’ve never heard of him being mean to anybody. He does have a reputation, though—Emily once told me he’s fooled around with lots of girls at school.

I don’t love that Matt’s off in Cabo with his frat brothers right now, but I like him enough to live with it. I guess you can love a person without loving everything about them.

“I don’t really know Sam, but he seems like a nice guy,” I say.

She sticks out a hand. “I’m Jordan, by the way.”

“Kate Kelly. We went to school together.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You do?”

She winces. “I heard about your knee. That sucks major.”

I slip a thumb through my belt loop and toe the grass.

Jordan goes on, “And you were in my art class last semester.”

I smile. “I liked the collage you made with pictures of Brett Favre and a bunch of monkeys.”

Grinning, Jordan pushes my shoulder. Ow! She’s strong. “Dad liked my collage a lot too. He put it up in his office.”

We sip our root beers.

“I liked that painting you did of heaven,” Jordan says. “The one with the sailboat?”

Jordan Woods noticed one of my paintings? That one won first place at the fair. “Thank you.”

“I would’ve told you at school, but I didn’t want to interrupt you during art. I could tell it was serious for you. Not like the shit goof-off time it was for me and Henry, you know? He made that papier-mâché sculpture of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant.” Jordan rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you interrupted me,” I say quietly.

“I don’t like it when people bother me during weights or drills. I need to concentrate.”

I don’t need concentration, though. I like activity around me. It gives me ideas. Makes me think in dynamic ways. Makes the colors explode.

Jordan thought I didn’t want to be approached when I did.

What did I look like in high school? A girl who lived in Emily’s shadow, where it was safe. The only place I broke out of my shell was on the soccer field, and when that ended, I shrunk even further back into the shadow.

But Jordan saw me even when I thought I was invisible. And she’s strong and does what she feels is right. And besides all the sexist jerks out there, no one has a problem with her going after her goals and dreams of playing quarterback in college.

But can I still open myself up to new experiences and new people while doing what I feel is right? Especially if other people don’t necessarily believe what I believe?

Why is believing in football different than believing in God? Why is one more socially acceptable than the other?

I look up at Jordan. “Are you looking forward to college?”

“I’m officially moving up to Indiana next week. I’ve already been practicing with the team. And Henry’s shipped his stuff up to Michigan.” She gazes over at him and I can see the pain on her face.

“Are you guys gonna keep dating?”

“You’re like the only person who’s asked me that!”

“Really?”

“Yeah—everyone else is scared to ask, I think.” She gulps her root beer. “But I know we’ll be fine.”

“Michigan isn’t that far from Indiana, right?”

“Yup. It takes longer to drive across Tennessee than it does to drive from Michigan to Purdue. We’ll still see each other plenty.”

That’s when Sam Henry walks up and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. He sweeps her hair back and kisses her neck.

“Bedtime?” he asks, grinning at her.

“It’s like eight-thirty!” she replies, shaking her head.

“I know.” He stretches his arms and yawns a fake yawn, acting all dramatic. “It’s super late. I’m so sleepy,” he teases.

Jordan glances at his face, then focuses on me again. I see the want written on her face. I used to see it on Emily’s face when she was with Jacob. Is that the same look I wear when I want to be alone with Matt?

“Go ahead,” I say.

“Nice talking to you.”

“Thanks for what you said, about my painting,” I say to Jordan.

She nods. “Friend me on Facebook so I can see your other art.”

I watch as she and Sam Henry walk across the yard, ignoring everyone trying to talk to them—it’s like they are in their own little bubble—and go up the back steps into her house. A minute later I see a light flick on upstairs, and then it goes out again.

Jordan and Sam love each other, but they love their dreams too. They love each other enough that it’s okay to risk being apart. I rub my throat, thinking of Emily and her dream to play violin for the National Symphony. Like Jordan, she wanted that same balance with Jacob. And she lost that balance.

Matt and I are still figuring out our balance.

Holding hands, Parker and Will stride up to me. “Ready to get out of here?” she asks me.

“I’m fine to hang out if y’all want to stay longer. Well, except for this guy used the worst pick-up line ever on me.”

“Gross,” Parker says. “What did he say?”

I point out Jake Reynolds and tell her what he said. He sees us pointing and blows me a kiss.

“He is so hot,” Parker whispers to me.

“I know!”

“I can hear you,” Will says, shaking his head and grinning.

“But you’re eight times cuter than he is,” Parker says to Will.

“Only eight times?” he replies. “I’m at least ten times—”

“Do you guys need me to drive? Did you drink?” I interrupt. I wasn’t watching to see if they drank.

“We don’t drink,” Will replies, dragging a hand up and down Parker’s arm.

“I’m starving,” she says.

“I want a Monster burger,” he whines to her.

“You are such a baby.” She gets up on tiptoes and kisses his lips. “We’ll get you your burger.”

“You guys are making me ill,” I say.

Will squeezes my shoulder and laughs. “You and Matt are just as bad.”

I swat his elbow. “Let’s go get Will’s burger already.”

•••

I got home from Jiffy Burger after midnight.

Now it’s two in the morning and my phone just rang, waking up Fritz, who’s curled up in bed with me. Matt’s calling for the first time all week. It’s not like I expected him to call, considering you could buy a small island for what it costs to call international, but to call in the middle of the night?

I answer and hear music blaring in the background. I can feel the bass through the phone. He has to yell in order for me to hear.

“Are you having fun?” I ask.

“I’d be having a lot more fun if you were here.” He sounds really tired or buzzed.

I hear a girl calling his name. Is that Andrea? The music is making my head throb.

I rub my eye. “Matt, I miss you.” I don’t want to be one of those girls who is totally dependent on her boyfriend, and I don’t think I am, but it hurts so much to hear him at a party with girls.

“I miss you,” I repeat. “And I don’t want to keep you away from your friends, but I’m kind of freaking out that you’re there partying with other girls.”

He goes silent. Then the music begins to dim in the background. I think he’s walking away from the noise. The phone line goes silent except for his breathing.

“Today,” he says, “I went to this art gallery called Los Cabos. They have all these pieces made of amber…I bet you’d love it.”

I pause. “Me too.”

“I shouldn’t have called you from a party. I’m sorry…I shouldn’t even be at this party.”

“I just worry that some other girl will hit on you or something.”

He laughs. “And you don’t think I worry about the same thing?”

I tell Matt about how that pervy guy Jake Reynolds hit on me at Jordan Woods’s party and Matt starts laughing and yelling and screaming into the phone. Turns out that Jake Reynolds is some big football star.

“You have no right to be pissed at me,” Matt says, chuckling. “I get hit on by some random girl in Cabo, but the number one pick in the NFL draft hit on you.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Matt and I are laughing together now. I’m not sure why we’re laughing, but it feels good.

“The reason I called is ’cause I’m coming home early,” he says. “The airline will change my ticket for the low cost of seventy-nine ninety-nine.”

“Matt,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t need to do that.”

“But I do. All I’ve thought about since I got here is you.”

I drag my fingers through Fritz’s fur. “Eighty dollars is a lot of money.”

“Money’s just money.”

I’m smiling.

He goes on, “I’ll be home on Friday, okay? I’ll call you then.”

“Be careful.”

“I will. I miss you.”

We hang up. I let out a long breath and lie down on my pillow.

I remember this one time when I was little, Daddy and I were listening to a Beatles CD. He told me about how John Lennon had once said, “We’re bigger than Jesus.” And when I asked Daddy how John Lennon could say something so bad, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, it was kinda true at that time. The Beatles were more popular than Jesus.”