Falling for Seven (20 page)

“What were you thinking?” she asked me with one arm crossed below her chest and her other arm on her face, one finger on her lip. She took her job very seriously, looking at me like I was her test subject.

“I don’t normally wear dresses, so as long as it isn’t poufy or frilly or twirly, then I don’t care.”

“Actually,” Julian cut in, “the pouffier and twilrlier the better.”

I flipped him my middle finger when he grinned at me.

Taj was having too much fun eating and playing PSP to care what I picked. He would leave this shop with a powerful sugar rush. I’d hate to be there for the withdrawl.

Elena’s eyes sparkled and a smile followed shortly after. “I think I have just the thing for you.” She went off into the back and came back with a long, flowing dress draped over her arm. “This just came in last week and we only have one made, exclusive to us. Try it on.”

She hung it up inside the cubicle and pulled across the curtain so that I could change. I called her in when I had trouble getting the tight material over my head after struggling to step into it. I checked myself out in the mirror, switching from side to side to get the best view. The dress was a long, mermaid style in a burgundy color. It clung to my body and my legs before fanning out against the carpet behind me. The front was a deep-V with thick straps over my shoulder.

“Do you mind?” Elena asked, taking hold of my ponytail.

“No.” I watched her unwrap my hair tie and arrange my waves around my face, her fingers stroking down my back.

“Well, what did I say? I knew this dress would be perfect. You have the skin coloring for it.” She studied my reflection in the mirror. “You’re not a natural blonde, are you?”

“No.” I shook my head. A part of me took mild offence that she’d noticed that. She was the natural iced-blonde and I was the imposter.

“Dark hair would really set this dress off beautifully, don’t you think?” As the seconds ticked by and I still hadn’t answered, Elena moved the topic along by motioning to the dress hugging my curves. “Do you like it?”

I turned around and looked over my shoulder at the backless reflection in the mirror. “It’s gorgeous,” I said, admiring the graceful fall of the fabric. It was easily the nicest dress in the store. Too nice for only a dinner.

Elena clapped her hands triumphantly and then she pulled back the curtain. “What do you guys think?” She signed as she spoke, so Taj understood.

Julian’s opinion was not one I needed. I’d already agreed on the dress, what more did she want?

Both Taj and Julian looked up. Taj gave me an instant two thumbs up accompanied by a shit-eating grin, and I smiled and gave him two back. Julian scratched the back of his neck and relaxed into the chair. “You really wanna know what I think?” he said at last.

“Honestly?” I said. “No.” I grinned conceitedly.

“Oh, now, now,” said Elena in her scolding mother tone. “I want to hear. Go ahead, Julian. I’m a business at the end of the day, any review is a good review.” The way Elena was looking at Julian would fool anyone into thinking he was an oracle.

“Really,” I said. “I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll take it.” What I should have said was:
“I don’t want Julian’s opinion because if he says anything other than he loves it, then I will be forced to take it off and pick something of his approval.”

I cared too damn much. That was my problem.

“I think you look sexy as hell.” I squirmed at his use of words in such a high class store. “Maybe I should come to this thing.” There was no pompous smile on his face or joking in his eyes. He was looking at me the same way Taj was looking at his
pan au chocolat
.

“Thank you,” I said, before his sentiment got a chance to stir something more inside of me. “How much?” I asked Elena.

“It’s yours,” she said. “It’s on me.”

“I can afford it,” I insisted. I knew this dress cost too much to just give away and I hadn’t come here for freebies because she was sleeping with my dad, and I wanted her to know that.

“I know you can. But it’s a gift. I want you to have it. It would never in a million years look so good on anyone else.”

“This is so nice of you.” I said, meaning it. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome. I’ll get this wrapped for you. I’m closing up now, it’s not long until the dinner tonight.”

I left with Julian, Taj, and one new dress tucked away neatly in a designer bag. Elena said she was leaving shortly after us and would see me when my dad picked me up at the dorms.

“What’s this dinner for?” Julian asked on the drive back.

“My grandpa’s 70
th
birthday. There will be a ton of wealthy, self-important people there and it’s a great chance for my dad to tell everyone how unbelievably awesome he is,” I said sarcastically.

“Elena’s nice. Your dad can’t be that bad if he can bag a woman like her.”

“She is nice,” I agreed. “My dad can be nice, too, when he wants to be. He can also be very opinionated and judgmental. We clash,
a lot.
Anyway, he’s your coach. You know him better than me.” I could see the student villages lurking ahead.

“All coaches are dicks to a certain extent. That’s what football’s for—to get your anger out.”

“Not sure my dad’s got a whole lot to be angry about. Not justified anger.”

“He’s one of the best coaches in college ball. That’s all I know. The rest… that’s your problem.” We shared a brief smile before the car stopped outside the university campus and I undone my seatbelt.

“Thanks for bringing me home. And letting me crash last night.”

“No problem.”

I got out the car and signed bye to Taj when he jumped into the front seat.

“Wait.” Julian put out his arm to halt his brother from closing the door on me. “Don’t go in there and text or call him. See the day out.”

“What?”

“Let’s just call it what it is. You’ve barely spoken his name all day, and you’ve even been kind of happy. You need to give yourself this break. He’s not good for you.”

“I’d already agreed something similar with myself,” I said.

“Will he be there tonight?”

“No. I never invited him.”

“Good.” Then he reached over Taj’s body and pulled the door closed. He rolled down the window. “Where’s this dinner, anyway?”

I shook my head, laughing. “Nice try.” I wasn’t falling for that one.

<>

At exactly seven p.m., a black limousine pulled up outside my dorm. My dad really wasn’t one for messing about. ‘
If you’re going to be late don’t turn up at all’.
He could write a book filled with motivational and smartass useless comments. I grabbed my gold purse and put on the strappy gold sandals that Elena had wrapped with my dress. They were too high for me, but it was nice being taller than
5’
3 for a change.

“Exceptional dress you’ve picked out, Elena,” was all my dad had to say on my appearance, despite managing to snag a last minute appointment at the salon to strip the blonde from my hair.

“Don’t you think she’ll be the belle of the ball?” Elena said, smiling at me, her gaze sweeping over and back over my hair like she couldn’t quite believe it.

She looked pretty in a black off-the-shoulder dress with diamond embellishment on the shoulder strap. Her hair was up in a smooth and slick bun and she was wearing a deep red lipstick with lashings of mascara. Her whole look was professional and sleek, but I knew she would have pulled it all together herself.

“This is a dinner, not a ball,” my dad said, straight-faced. “You should have worn your hair up,” he said to me, but looking at his business cell the whole time.

The stylist had flat ironed it till it was resting on my lower back and tucked behind one ear to show off my gold, sparkly earrings. “What’s wrong with my hair?” I said, my lips tight with anger. He still hadn’t noticed my change of color, or he just didn’t care enough to comment.

“It looks slap-dash. A bun would have been a lot more flattering.”

Elena gave me an understanding look of sympathy, but I wasn’t interested. Her being here was the only reason I hadn’t asked the driver to pull over and let me out. I couldn’t bail on them after how she treated me today.

“Slap-dash?” I said. “Rhian spent an hour making sure every strand was straight. I know how much you hate it when it curls up.”

“Just my opinion,” he said, his voice patronizing. “No need to get angry.”

Just another one of your many fucking opinions,
I thought to myself. This was going to be a long night. One hell of a long night. In fact,
endless
seemed like a much more appropriate comparison.

“I’M GOING ON A DATE WITH GARY.”

My finger hit the mute button on the TV remote and I got up, heading straight for the kitchen. “Come again?”

“You heard what I said.”

I stared at my mom, expecting her lips to move to tell me she was fucking with me. Her lips stayed firmly closed. “Why would you do that? You don’t like him.”

She drained spaghetti then tossed it in a creamy pasta sauce. The smell of garlic was strong in the whole house, but in here it invaded all my senses.

“You have never heard me say that I don’t like him.”

“What the fuck, mom? Are you that desperate now?”

She stopped stirring, holding the spoon still, her eyes glaring at me. “Julian!”

“What?” I snapped back. “It’s true. He’s a fucking creep and you know he is.”

“I didn’t have to tell you. I’m a grown woman, and your mother in case you have forgotten. Treat me with some respect. I can date who I like, I wasn’t seeking your approval or permission.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a breath to calm down. “Tell me why you’re going out with him?”

The stirring started up again and she wiped the back of her arm across her brow, removing the loose hair that was plastered to her forehead. “Because it’s about time I moved on. I thought you of all people would be happy about that.”

“Dad was four years ago. You were never interested in moving on before, but now any asshole will do. You tell me you’re going out with your boss who you can’t stand, and you want me to respect you?”

She huffed, squaring her shoulders, but her eyes bubbled with tears. The pasta stirring grew more aggressive and erratic. Specs of cream spattered the wall behind the gas hob, sweat beading below her hairline from the steaming pan.

“Yeah, mom. I’ll respect you when you respect yourself. Dad left you for another woman, and you’re what? Getting back at him by letting the guy that gives you shit every time you’re at work sleep with you? Is that what will make you feel better?”

“Get out,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her fingers wrapped around the pan handle in a bone-breaking grip. If it wasn’t for that handle I’d bet her hand would be across my face. Well I was just as fucking angry. I never fought with her, but I couldn’t stand here and act like this shit was okay. It wasn’t, it was fucking insanity. “Get out now!”

“My fucking pleasure,” I growled, swiping utensils from the worktop crashing to the floor on my way out. Taj stood on the other side of the doorway, piercing my mom with a death glare that was meant for me, his cheeks red. He didn’t look up at me as I left. He might not have heard us but he knew that I’d made her cry, and I’d be surprised if he forgave me for it.

I ignored six calls from Kit on my way to the football stadium. When the seventh call blew up my phone, I turned the damn thing off.

Coach wouldn’t be in his office because he was out at some fancy dinner with Angel, and so in the locker room, alone, I changed into running shorts and hit the field, running the bleachers twice, then a third time when I was still pumped and unsatisfied. By the time I was breathless to the point of exhaustion that felt like I was dying, I slumped forward, wrapping my hands below my knees, sucking in deep breaths of air. Sweat poured from my forehead and hair onto the field below me, and I stayed bent over until my vision began to refocus and the build of nausea started to subside. Sweat burned my eyes, and still, I didn’t feel any less wound-up.

My own fucking mom, caving like that. I didn’t care that she was dating. It was about damn time. But not Gary. Definitely not fucking Gary. He was bald, overweight, and worse than that he bossed my mom around like he was God. He smelled her vulnerability like a rat, sensing she would eventually soften to him because he knew all too well that she had no better options. Even if she wasn’t my mom, any idiot could see she could do better than him. Mom was the only one who couldn’t see it. My dad had done one hell of a fucking number on her confidence, and standing alone at the edge of the massive field with only the floodlights for company, my muscles were bunching to hurt him as much as he had hurt her.

In the showers, I extended my irrational anger to Jordan. He pissed me off, and I never knew him. Angel pissed me off. What the fuck was wrong with everyone? To me, it was simple. Someone is bad, get rid of them. What was so hard about that? I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist, then dried off, getting into sweat pants and a clean T-shirt. I didn’t waste time drying my hair. Now it was shorter it would dry as soon as it hit the air outside.

I should have went home and made an effort to start fixing things with my mom, but I couldn’t face her just yet—I was still too angry. I was wrong, she was wrong. We wouldn’t be able to solve anything tonight if none of us were willing to back down. It was her life, but I wasn’t one for pretending and I wasn’t going to give it a go this late in the game.

I sat in the parking lot and switched on my phone. When the screen finally came on, there was a voicemail waiting. I had nothing better to do, or anywhere to go so I dialed and listened to the message.

It was from an agent, Phil Gartland. I’d heard of him, but I cut the message short, deleting it. Coach wouldn’t have given him my number, and I’d never met him. It was only the beginning of the regular season, I had months of this to come, and I was confident (with good reason) that I wouldn’t be short of offers, bribes, or whatever shit was necessary to secure my signature. And I’d sign, but with the best person. I’d talk to coach first. I was almost positive now that I was declaring my draft eligibility in January, A year early, but I wasn’t dumb enough to do it all on my own. O’Hara might look like the oldest member of NSync, but he knew his shit and he knew the right people. I wasn’t too far up my own ass to argue with that.

I turned over the engine and drove. I didn’t intend on ending up at players, but the noise and distraction was calling to me. The place was buzzing, wall to wall, and I ordered a 7up, staying clear of alcohol when I was already coiled as tight as a wire.

I dissected her voice from the rest of the raised ones, fighting to be heard above the music before Kit got anywhere near me. I’d have to make sure to get checked for an embedded chip that I never knew about. I don’t know how else she found me, but she always did.

“You’re ignoring my calls.”

I put the 7up to my lips, took a drink, and then said, “And here you are.”

“Could we go somewhere a little less loud? I can barely hear you in here it’s so full.”

I turned to face her. She looked prettier than normal, more natural—relaxed. Angel would roll her fucking eyes till they popped out, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if she had dressed-down because she wasn’t expecting me to be here. Big-headed? Probably. But I had no problem admitting that.

“Weren’t you supposed to be having people round at your place tonight?”

“I do,” she said. “I stopped by to pick up some BBQ. You know what the guys are like. They ate everything already.” She tipped her head towards the back patio. “Outside, please? Ten minutes, no more.”

I put down the dregs of my drink and slid past the crowd at the bar, well aware that Kit would follow. Outside, I slouched down into a free chair at one of the garden tables. Kit sat on the other side, her blue eyes focused only on me. She looked unsure. “So what is it?” I asked, spreading my legs and leaning forward. I arched my eyebrows. “Hurry up.”

Her lips didn’t move, not even a twitch. Then she cleared her throat and said, “Julain…”

“Yes?” I leaned even farther forward.

Still nothing.

“Spit it out, Kit.”

“I love you.” she blurted out the confession like she wasn’t sure she meant it.

I sat back, putting distance between me and those unnecessary words. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I have to. I am in love with you, and I can’t carry on the way we are. I thought I could do this no-strings. I was wrong. I can’t. I can’t sleep with you anymore and get nothing back. I need a commitment from you.”

I grunted with laughter. “You won’t get that from me. But I’ve told you this already.”

“We are good together. No—” She moved forward with the shake of her head. “We are
great
together. Perfect.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“Yeah, it’s not going to happen. You might think you love me, but I sure as hell don’t love you. Not even a little bit.”

My choice of words were too strong, but she caught me at a bad fucking time. I might as well have slapped her across her face, the way she pulled back, her growth of certainty cracking in one swift, twisted facial expression.

“And you don’t need to worry about sleeping with me, because that’s off the table now. Me and you, we are friends. You don’t want to fuck me? Then don’t. I never once forced you, so don’t sit there and make out like I did.”

“You used to think more of me.”

“Did I? Tell me when? And in real time, not the love story your warped brain has created. Tell me a time I ever made you think that I wanted more from you?” When she came up with no answer, I said, “I thought what we had was mutual.  I thought you understood that. Guess I was wrong, I’m sorry.”

“Julian, wait.” I was half out of my seat when Kit reached for my arm. “Why not me?” she asked, looking up at me. I could see in her eyes she truly didn’t get it. “Why not me?”

Seconds stretched out as I thought what to say without totally wearing her down. I hadn’t asked for her to drag me out here and bombard me with this shit, but there was no sense in making it any worse. I had to be honest.

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, I told you that. That’s why not you.”

More time stretched by and then kit blinked, shaking away her sense of loss. She stood up, scraping her chair back into the legs of the person standing behind her.

“Watch it.” he jumped back, out of the way, almost spilling his beer.

“I feel like a fucking idiot,” Kit said with an unbelieving smile.

Any form of words to make her feel less embarrassed would have been helpful, but I had none, and she was gone before I could decide whether or not I wanted to chase after her and tell her if she could forget what she had said, then I could.

This was a bad night not to drink. I left the bar and got back in my car. Taj was pissed at me, but he was normally the only person I could stand to be around when everyone else fucked me the hell off. Only tonight, it wasn’t just Taj I wanted to be around.