Put Me Back Together (13 page)

“Hey, Lucas,” Stabber Girl said in a sickly sweet voice. “Who’s your
friend
?”

I would have gladly scurried away at that moment, but Lucas took my hand and gently pulled me back into my seat, and there was something about the feeling of his fingers in mine—and the fact that he wasn’t letting go—that kept me there. Besides, Stabber Girl was still standing in my way.

“Hi, Monica,” Lucas said blandly, his attention mostly remaining with his drawing. “This is Katie.” I plastered a smile on my face as I looked up at her, but she barely glanced at me now. She only had eyes for Lucas.

“When did you start coming to the games again?” Monica said, twirling a finger around a strand of her auburn hair. “You should have told me. I would have saved you a seat.”

From the way she said the word “seat,” I was pretty sure she wanted to find hers in Lucas’s lap. I was wondering how familiar this girl was with Lucas and his lap, when all of a sudden she fell forward and landed directly in it, her short skirt fanning out around her thighs and her arms looping around his neck.

“Oops,” she said perkily as she pressed her ample breasts against his chest. I had to reach up and snap my mouth closed. This girl’s moves put Sally’s to shame, and that was saying something. “I guess I tripped.”

“I guess you did,” Lucas said.

He let go of my hand then, and I couldn’t even blame him. What guy wouldn’t with those long legs and that cleavage and all that hair right in front of him? But I did notice that he didn’t put his arms around her. He was gripping the edge of his seat as she wiggled around in front of him, trying to keep his balance.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over and sit with Taylor and Danny and me?” Monica said as she smoothed the front of his shirt with her fingers, each of which ended in a perfectly polished nail. “You can share my nachos.”

Share my nachos?
That had to be code for something dirty.

“We’re fine right here, Mon,” Lucas said, moving his head to the left so he could see around her pouting face. “Thanks for offering, though.”

I heard the tone of dismissal in Lucas’s voice, but apparently Monica did not. She lingered for a few more minutes, licking her glossy lips and nuzzling Lucas’s neck until she seemed to realize she wasn’t going to get the reaction she wanted. With a
hmph
, she hauled herself to her feet and folded her arms over her chest.

“Well,” she said before she turned away, “you have my number. Remember you can call me any time you want, day or night. I’m always available.” She gave Lucas one more suggestive look before walking slowly down the stairs on her precarious heels.

I looked over at Lucas as he tore off the crumpled page Monica had sat on and started on a new sketch without missing a beat. I hoped he didn’t think we were just going to go on as if
that
hadn’t just happened, because, frankly, I wasn’t that mature.

“Old friend?” I inquired, my tone innocent.

Lucas looked away from the court, his eyes following Monica as she moved through the crowd. “No,” he said. “Monica and I were never friends, that’s for sure.”

I guessed it served me right for asking. All of a sudden I was the one who felt like vomiting. The only thing that stopped me was the entirely disinterested look on Lucas’s face as he watched Monica walk away and the memory of his hand in mine.

A few minutes later we both got up to move. I watched Lucas move down three rows and take a seat on the stairs, and then picked a random seat for myself, trying to shake the image of Monica in Lucas’s lap out of my mind.

I was already folding my pad open to a fresh page when I heard the person next to me squeak, “Katie?”

Emily was sitting in the seat beside mine with an enormous soda in her hand, the straw in her mouth. A guy with light brown hair and nice blue eyes sat next to her, looking from my sister to me with a stunned expression I’d seen a hundred times before. Twin sisters tended to attract attention. “What is happening right now?” Emily said, her expression a cross between surprise and suspicion. “Is this a class assignment or something?”

I leaned over my sister and proffered my hand to her date. “Twin sister, Katie,” I said by way of explanation.

“This is Marty,” Em said dismissively, gesturing at him without looking his way.

“Matt,” he corrected, and Em shrugged. I groaned inwardly. It was typical Emily behaviour to get a guy to take her to some event, buy her ticket and snacks, and drive her there and back only for her to forget him before the sun rose the next day. If she had already forgotten his name, Matt here was a definite goner, and here he was looking all starry-eyed. Poor bastard.

“I’m just doing some sketches, for practice,” I explained, holding up my pad. I hoped Em wouldn’t notice Lucas in the crowd, but just then he stood up and moved down a few more stairs. He looked over and gave me a wink before sitting back down. My sister’s eyes widened with delight.

Oh, crap on a stick.
“You’re here on a date with Lucas?” she whispered excitedly into my ear, loud enough that Matt and the entire row of people behind us could hear.

“Wait, Lucas Matthews?” Matt said, giving me a suddenly far more appreciative look.

“Great, Em,” I said. “Thanks so much.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she said. “Is he a good kisser? Does he have a long tongue? Tall guys often do, you know.”

Though I didn’t look, I could feel the row of people behind us leaning forward to hear my answer.

“Lucas and I are
not
on a date,” I said forcefully. “Remember, I told you, we’re nothing to each other. Well, not nothing. We’re friends. That’s it.” Em nodded at me her nod that said,
I don’t believe a word of this.

“Weren’t you the one that told me he was the school Lothario?” I demanded.

“What’s your point?” she asked. “I saw the way he looked at you at The Limo. Every Lothario has his downfall. ”

“Well, let’s just say I’m not it,” I said and Em’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Lucas has a girl in every class, in every Res, in every club.” And apparently in every gym, too. “You really want me to go for a guy like that? You should be warning me away from him, not pushing me into his arms.”

I wasn’t really angry with her, it was my irritation with that whole Monica moment that was doing the talking, but Em took my words completely seriously.

“You’re right,” she said with a firm nod. “If he doesn’t want you, then screw him! In fact, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

Both Matt and I caught her before she flung herself out of her seat.

“No, no,” I said. “Lucas and I are friends. It’s okay. We don’t want to kill him right now.” I thought of how different my response might have been if I’d run into her an hour before and had to bite back a grin. “I’ll let you know if that changes, though.” I nudged her with my arm and she gave me a reluctant smile of agreement, but I could still see her frowning in Lucas’s direction.

The crowd cheered again as the yellow team—that was us, right?—got another basket. Going by the clock on the wall, it looked like the game was about to end. Matt had stopped listening to our conversation and was watching the court like the outcome would decide the rest of his life.

Sports were so weird.

Lucas stood again and caught my eye, gesturing toward the door. I got the impression he wanted to leave before the game ended and his old teammates could spot him, although it seemed like they’d be hearing about it either way. I could see Monica whispering to her friends at that very moment.

As I stood to follow him, Em said, “Be careful, Katie. You might want to be just friends, but you’d better make sure that’s what he wants, too. Lucas isn’t really the friends-with-girls type of guy, if you know what I mean.”

Did I ever.

I was still thinking about what Emily had said as Lucas drove me home, and when I looked up we were sitting in front of my apartment building. I hadn’t said a single word to him on the drive back. I wanted to ask him about Monica and whether he was dating her or had dated her or still wanted to date her, but it all seemed very un-friend-like, and I couldn’t get the words out. Even though I told him he didn’t have to, he insisted on walking me to my door.

“Where’s your Res, anyway?” I asked. “You never told me.”

“Why?” Lucas said. “Are you going to sneak into my room later tonight? I can tell you which window is mine and leave it open just a crack—”

“You’re sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I said, gracing him with a big eye roll as I unlocked the door to the building.

“Not all the time,” he said. I had to remind myself what a big night it had been for Lucas and that I should give him a break.

“Anyway, I live in Victoria Hall,” he said as we walked up the stairs. I noticed that his legs were so long he took the steps two at a time and sometimes three.

“I should have just met you there,” I said, feeling guilty. “The gym is barely a five-minute walk from here. Instead you had to drive all the way over here in your car just to get me.”

“Actually, it’s my roommate Danny’s car,” Lucas confessed. “He drives like a maniac. I think he dented the door slamming into a mailbox. He was drunk.”

“Sounds like a stand-up guy,” I muttered.

“But I would never have asked you to come meet me,” Lucas said as we reached my door. “I wanted to come pick you up.”

“Why’s that?” I said, feeling bold. I think a part of me was just sick of these little games we were playing. He had to learn that he couldn’t flirt with me mercilessly if he didn’t really want me. I had to draw a line.

“Don’t you know?” Lucas said.

This time my back was already against my apartment door and I had time to think, to see him coming. He stepped toward me gradually, inch by painful inch, and instead of pinning me there with his hands on either side of me, I felt them running down my arms to find my hands. The heat rose between us in a slow boil, and this time I didn’t tremble. This time I was able to meet his eyes and anticipate, and wish, and yearn.

It didn’t stop my heart from pounding though.

“Know w-what?” I stuttered as he pressed his forehead against mine, our breath mixing.

Even up close he was completely exquisite, perfect skin, dark and thick eyelashes, and those gorgeous eyes. I couldn’t stop staring into them—which was exactly the kind of thing friends did, right?

“Oh, Katie,” he said, bringing his hands up to my cheeks and holding them in his palms. I couldn’t believe how incredible it felt to have him hold my face in his hands. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head. “If I tell you now, I don’t think you’ll believe me. You’ll probably punch me in the stomach or something, and my body’s taken enough of a beating today.”

“I’m not violent!” I said, insulted. My hand came up automatically to smack him for what he’d said, but I wouldn’t let it. That’s how non-violent I was.

Chuckling, Lucas let go of my face—I almost groaned out loud—and leaned down to pull something out of my bag.

“Maybe I’ll just let the art do the talking,” he said, pressing his sketchpad into my arms. “That’s what the cool guys do, isn’t it? I’d write you a song, but I’m not much of a writer.”

“You don’t have to write me a song, Lucas,” I said, shaking my head at him.

“But I would,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine one last time before backing away toward the stairs.

“Don’t you want to keep your sketches?” I said, holding up the pad.

“No,” he answered, showing me his dimples. “They’re for you, Hero.”

“Don’t call me—” I said, but he’d already started down the stairs.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and dumped my bag on the couch before making straight for the cupboard. I knew what to do at a time like this. I pulled out a jar of Nutella. I had a spoonful in my mouth when I flipped Lucas’s sketchpad open.

The first few sketches were of the game: a jersey in motion, a player doing a layup, the ball going through the hoop.

Then I flipped to the next page and sucked in a quick breath.

There were ten more sketches in his pad. They were all of me.

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