Dearest Clementine (27 page)

I nod absentmindedly.
Gavin has been lying to me.

Carly hands me her phone. She’s talking, but I haven’t a clue what she’s saying.
Oh, she wants my number.
I stare at the device a second before I can process what to do.

“Do you want to play with Murphy? Should I book both of you?”

“What?”

“Would you like to perform with Murphy?”

“No, most definitely not. I… I don’t need an accompanist. I play the piano.” Or at least I used to in a prior life.

“Okay, cool. I’ll call you with the details.”

I don’t remember saying bye. I don’t remember walking home. I barely remember walking into my apartment. Fortunately, no one is home. I head straight to the top drawer of my desk and pull out my prescription bottle and pop that little pill that makes me numb.

-
21 -

I sleep well, a side effect from my medicine, and after a five-mile run, I launch myself in the shower where I continue to obsess over last night. Why does some girl on his floor know that Gavin has left town and gone to a different damn state and I don’t? Even though my meds usually grind out any remnant of emotion, I find myself crying. What is it with me crying this week? No, I will not allow myself to fall apart over a sexy face and a great body. Okay, he’s more than that. So much more, which is why this hurts.

After I change, I find my roommates waiting for me in the living room.

“These shirts you made for us are great,” Dani says, holding up a white, long-sleeved thermal t-shirt with a red X. I’m wearing one with the letter J, and Jenna is wearing the letter A.

“Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?” Jenna asks.

I’m not talking about this right now. I’m going to coordinate the dumb t-shirts that spell my brother’s name, paint streaks across our faces and pretend that everything is okay because I’ll be damned if I let another man break me.

“It’s nothing,” I say, plastering a smile on my face. “I’m tired.” Reaching into a brown paper bag, I pull out a few tubes of face paint. “Okay, ladies. Who’s first?”

When we arrive at the soccer field an hour later, the girls and I grab seats in the front row near the team.

Jax sees us and struts over, grinning. “Shit. You guys went all out. You haven’t done the t-shirts since high school.”

I stand up and give him a hug. “It’s my way of making up for missing so many games this season.” Seeing him happy helps numb the bitterness that’s welling up in me.

His smile widens as he stares at the letters that spell his name. “X marks the spot,” he says when his eyes fall on Dani.

“No, Jax,” I whisper, remembering how I used to reserve that letter for whatever flavor-of-the-week he was dating. I tap him on the shoulder a few times to get his attention. “What’s the deal?” I ask, motioning to the field. “You gonna win today or what?”

“We’d better. Some pro scouts are supposed to come, so I need to have a good game.”

“You always have good games.” I playfully punch him in the arm. “Go kick some ass, Apple Jacks.”

He grins that slightly crooked smile before he glances up at the stands. This was always the worst part of the game. When he’d look for our parents who never bothered to show up. That’s why I came up with the t-shirts and face painting. I wanted to make up for the fact that our parents were such assholes.

At half time, BC is up two to nothing. Jax scored the first goal, and he’s having an amazing game. I swear he gets better every season. I head back to the concession stand to get the girls some snacks, which is the least I can do for dragging them all the way to Chestnut Hill. When I get back to the stands, I stop so fast a kid bumps into me, spilling his drink down my arm.

A few feet away, Ryan greets Jenna with a big, sloppy kiss, and Gavin stands next to him. He looks tired, but when he sees me, he grins. It’s that beautiful smile that lights his eyes. And it totally pisses me off. All I can do is glare.

“Here are your drinks,” I say as I hand the sodas to Jenna and Dani, who must sense the tension because everyone stops talking. Ignoring Gavin, I sit next to Jenna, and I take out my phone. I sense Gavin watching me before he walks over slowly and sits on the other side of me. I scroll through my texts.

“What’s up, Clem?” Even the way he says that gets under my skin. He almost always calls me by my full name.

“Just checking my messages.” I scroll through my phone, the tension building until I think I might burst. “You know, I must be confused because there’s nothing in here from you that says you were going to Rhode Island.” I turn and stare at him, and for a guy with a decent tan, he looks a little pale.

He starts to say something but stops. Finally, he says, “I can explain.”

The air gets sucked out of my lungs, and anger radiates from my pores.

“See, I’m not interested in after-the-fact explanations. Call me crazy, but I tend to prefer truth in the moment.”

As if the stars are aligning to ruin my life, I hear another voice, one from both my dreams and nightmares.

“Emmie?”

Only one person on the planet has ever called me that.

Frozen in place with the fear that I might be having some kind of seizure—because why else would I be hearing Daren’s voice?—I close my eyes a beat before I open them and turn to find that Daren Sloan is, in fact, a foot away.

Standing at six three, Daren towers over me. His dark hair is hanging in his honey-colored eyes, and he’s all epic swagger and devilish charm. The boy I loved when we were kids has grown up. Of course, today is the day I wear face paint. I have two streaks along my cheekbones, like warrior marks. Awesome.

“Emmie, it is you,” he says, stepping closer to hug me, lifting me out of my seat.

I stand there, stiff. I haven’t seen him since our high-school graduation, and although I’ve been to dozens of my brother’s games over the years, we’ve never run into each other.

“You’ve gotten taller,” I say finally, which makes him laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“For once I don’t have a game or practice, so Veronica and I thought we’d catch Jax’s game,” he says motioning down to the other end of the stands. My eyes roam to Veronica, who looks willowy and elegant and is apparently ignoring the fact that Daren and I are having a little reunion. When her eyes meet mine, she gives me a small wave.

“Wow. Hell really has frozen over.” Feeling slightly lightheaded, I blink to make sure I’m not imagining this.

He laughs that self-amused chuckle that always gets people eating out of his hand. “Hey, you look seriously amazing. Damn.” He places a hand over his heart. “The girl who got away.”

Before I get a chance to respond to his asinine comment, Gavin clears his throat, and even though I’m more than pissed at him, I do the polite thing and introduce them as Ryan scoots closer to me, practically knocking over Jenna.

“Dude, I’m a huge fan.” He reaches out to shake Daren’s hand.

“Ryan, stop drooling,” I say, annoyed. For a guy who is used to being the center of attention when he’s on stage, he sure is being a fangirl right now.

“And that was an awesome game last weekend! In the fourth, when you faked it to the receiver but then ran it in for a TD from the twenty-five-yard line? Holy shit! That was insane!”

Daren studies Ryan and nods slightly. “You were the one in Clementine’s seats.”

Ryan grins, apparently excited to be recognized.

I cross my arms. “About that, Daren. You don’t need to keep sending me tickets.”

“Are you kidding?” Daren’s eyebrows furrow like I just kicked his puppy. “When we were twelve, you were the one who convinced me to play football. You said I had a great arm for the game when my parents wanted me to stick with baseball. I’d never be here today without you. So, sorry, you’re stuck with the tickets.”

I sigh. This is awkward. I feel Gavin’s eyes on me like laser beams, which pisses me off more. Like he has anything to be angry about. I’m not the one running around behind his back.

“Okay, well, great seeing you,” I say to Daren with a curt wave.

“I just saw your mom last weekend when I went home. She came over for dinner.” His eyebrows bunch. “My parents ask about you all the time.”

“It’s nice that someone’s parents care about me. Mine sure as hell don’t.” Under my breath I mumble, “They named me after a piece of fruit. How much more evidence do you need?”

He frowns.

My friends, who all know the drama of Daren, are avidly watching this exchange, and now, I can almost hear the ice shift in our sodas.

“I’m sorry, honey. Our parents are fucked up,” Daren says, pulling me into another giant hug. Shit. Why does he keep hugging me? Then he whispers in my ear, “But I love your name.” Again, I keep my hands by my side until he lets go. “It’s great to see you.” With a smile, he walks away.

I can’t catch my breath because Gavin immediately grabs me. “We need to talk.”

I yank my arm away. “No shit.”

* * *

Before he can touch me again, I spin on my heel, walking down the stands in the opposite direction from Daren. My friends are a blur as I move past them, my heart in my throat as all the things I’ve wanted to say come rushing back to me.

I trudge through the parking lot, stopping next to the visiting team’s bus. When I turn around, Gavin stops several feet away from me. His head is down and his hands are on his hips. He starts to say something but stops. Raking his fingers through his hair, he exhales. “I don’t know where to begin.”

He still doesn’t make eye contact, which is so unlike him. Gavin has always been about being direct and bold. The difference in his demeanor doesn’t sit well with me. Now that the shock of seeing Daren is starting to wear off, I’m remembering all the details Gavin has been less than forthcoming about this week.

“What’s going on with you and Daren?” he finally asks, looking almost hurt.

My head jerks back in surprise. “Really?” I press my temple with my thumb as I try to stave off a headache. “I haven’t seen him in three years. That brief conversation is the totality of what we’ve said during all of that time. I don’t see what possibly could be confusing.”

Gavin looks at me like I’m lying. What the fuck?

“He calls you Emmie.”

“Was that a question?” I want to rain down accusations about his whereabouts for the last week, and he wants to talk about Daren. “When we were little, he couldn’t say my name. He and Jax called me Chlamydia a few times if that makes you feel better.”

I wasn’t trying to be funny, but the corner of his mouth lifts up slightly before his brows furrow again.

He closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, he takes a step closer. “Look, I should apologize for this week.”

For what? For lying? For blowing me off?

His usual easygoing manner is gone, replaced with tension and fatigue. Dark circles shadow his eyes. My stomach clenches nervously. Where did my Gavin go? The reality that his lies will hurt more than I can bear right now becomes abundantly clear.

I inhale, bracing myself.

“I’m going to make this easy for you. I don’t do well with lies, so I’m not going to ask you what was so important that you had to sneak around and do it behind my back.” I once broke my mother’s Tiffany crystal jewelry box. When it shattered, pieces of glass went everywhere, standing up at odd angles, and each time I reached for a piece, I cut myself. Breaking up with Gavin will leave me injured, but it’s better than a singular fatal cut.
“I told you I’m not an easy girl to date, and we’re obviously in different places, so—”

“You haven’t heard me out.” He grabs my shoulders gently. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to trust me. I need time to sort through something.”

I must have a sign on my forehead that says sucker. My face twists in disbelief. “You want me to trust you?”

“Yes, I promise I’ll explain everything. I just… I need a little more time.”

He needs time? To do what, get his story straight? To come up with a believable lie? To find someone who will back up his bullshit? I think I can feel my heart breaking.
You were supposed to be different.

“So I’m supposed to believe that sometime in the near future, you’re going to give me the real reason you blew me off this week and went to Rhode Island without mentioning it to me?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. In his eyes, I see a mixture of both longing and regret, but he doesn’t look away or otherwise indicate that he’s lying. My mouth is dry. His response to what I say next is crucial.

My heart thunders in my chest.

“Will this explanation include why you didn’t mention Angelique is your editor on the newspaper and why you were with her on Tuesday when we were supposed to be having dinner?”

His eyes dart to the ground, his arms dropping to his sides, and with that, my heart sinks.

“No? Okay, how about this one. Did you go to Rhode Island with Angelique?”

Gavin finally looks at me. “Jesus, Clementine.” He lets out a cold, humorless laugh. “What’d you do? A background check on me?”