CHAPTER 9

Reagan

 

“Yeah, tequila is not my friend.” Sawyer’s face twisted into a grimace.

Mari scoffed. “This I know.”

I couldn’t help but draw my attention to Mari, although every time I did it, I felt Sawyer tense beside me. “Yeah? I’d love to hear what dumb things he’s done after drinking it.”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, nothing story worthy. Mostly, dragging his ass home and someone dragging him inside. He’s lovely to deal with the next morning too.”

I laughed. “Tell me about it.”

Heath set his bottle on the table, brows furrowed. “Now, I’m curious what stories you have about Sawyer and tequila.”

I glanced over at Sawyer to see how he’d feel about me telling this story. The pieces of our friendship were still there. Now we needed to mend them back together. If Sawyer didn’t want his friends to know the story I wouldn’t tell it. It had surprised me earlier when his bandmates said Sawyer hadn’t told them much about his life growing up. Mari was suspiciously quiet for the first time all night, and something told me she knew more than everyone else. I also had a feeling she knew exactly why Sawyer disappeared without saying goodbye when we left for college.

Sawyer gave the slightest inclination of his head. For some reason, he wasn’t bothered by them knowing now. No matter what Sawyer tried to say, I still had a feeling it had something to do with me. To get my mind off the thoughts running through my head, I gave them what they wanted.

“It was junior year, during a team building camping trip for baseball.”

Monty threw both hands up. “Wait, wait, wait.” He paused for a second, looking at Sawyer then back at me. “Let me get this straight. Sawyer played baseball?”

That caught me by surprise. My head snapped around to him, my face no doubt relaying the shock bouncing around my head. I could feel my eyes practically ready to bulge out of my head. How could they not know? “You didn’t tell them?” I asked Sawyer. “I thought you went to college together.”

Sawyer fidgeted in his seat, a light flush creeping up his neck. “We did, but no, I didn’t tell them because I gave it up.”

“You what?” I practically yelled.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on the two of us. This wasn’t something I could explain. Hell, I didn’t even understand it myself. Thankfully, Mari asked the question I wanted to ask. For the first time, I realized she didn’t know everything. Seemed as if Sawyer had packaged himself in little boxes and only gave a few to each person, so no one would ever know the whole guy. That made me sad. I wanted to believe that once upon a time, I was the one person who did know everything about him. Apparently, once he left, he didn’t let anyone else all the way in. He let some in more than others, but no one knew everything.

“What did you give up, Sawyer?”

I watched as he reached for his back pocket. Some things never changed. His signature move when he was nervous. Best guess, he’d been looking for drumsticks to twirl in his fingers. For some reason, it always relaxed him. This time he didn’t have that shield and was on his own.

“I…uh.” He twisted the bottle in his hands. “I gave up my scholarship.”

Heath narrowed his eyes. “Scholarship? I thought you didn’t qualify for full ride music scholarship.”

“I didn’t.”

I was at a loss for words. He really hadn’t told them much when they met. “Why would you do that?” I couldn’t stop the question from leaving my lips.

He grimaced. Whether it was because of my reaction or his bandmates’, I couldn’t tell. “I didn’t want to play anymore.”

“Okay, I’m really confused,” Jackson chimed in for the first time in a while. I noticed most of the time he sat quietly observing it all.

“Me too,” Monty agreed. “He’s played drums as long as we’ve known him.”

“That’s not what he got a scholarship for.”

Sawyer sighed. “I got a full ride to play baseball.”

“Holy shit,” Monty exclaimed.

Mari’s jaw had practically hit the table. She seemed to be as speechless as I was.

“Why would you give up a full ride?” Heath asked. “Not that I’m not grateful for it, but you have to be crazy to pay tuition when you didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to play anymore. The scouts came to the game and offered me the money. At the time I felt stupid saying no, but deep down I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to major in music.” Not once did he look up during his confession. “For years I split my time between music and baseball and I didn’t want to do it anymore. I wanted to focus on music only and I couldn’t do that when I’d have to give up rehearsal weekends for games.”

“I thought they told you they’d find a way to work around it?” I specifically remembered the conversation he had with the scout about his previous acceptance letter for music. The guy made it sound like doing both wouldn’t be a problem.

“They did, but then I saw both schedules side by side and there was no way they could make something like that happen. Not without constantly missing one or the other. So, I made a choice and I’ve never looked back.”

Those green eyes locked with mine and I could see the turmoil raging in them. Did he think I’d judge him for the decisions he made? We all had to make our own path in life. Just because mine led me to sports didn’t mean his had to. I clasped him on the shoulder. “I think you made a good decision.”

He smiled, the first genuine one since the conversation started. ‘Thanks, that means a lot.”

“Hold up,” Monty cut in. “I want to know more about you playing baseball. Then we can get to the tequila story.”

“There’s not much to tell. Junior year, I decided I wanted to play again. I’d played in rec leagues with Reagan growing up, but quit once we went to high school. I’d always spend spring break alone while Reagan was down in Florida with the baseball team.” He gave me a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. “When I complained about it sophomore year, he told me to get off my ass and join the team. Then I wouldn’t be alone during break. So, I did.”

This time it was Jackson’s turn to have the frozen, mute look on his face. Somehow he located his voice. “And you made the team after not playing for two years?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I was the last one to make the team.”

Anything but the last one to make the team. I rolled my eyes. “Yep, hitting a homerun at tryouts definitely makes you sit the bench.” The sarcasm was so obvious in my tone I might as well have hit them over the head with the truth.

“Damn,” Monty exclaimed.

Sawyer shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is,” Mari insisted. “You gave up a full ride for music. That says a whole helluva lot.”

“I gotta go with Mari on this one,” Heath agreed. “That’s impressive as hell.”

“Thanks.” The slight flush spread from Sawyer’s neck to his cheeks. He’d never been great at accepting compliments for things he thought didn’t deserve it.

Silence settled over the table. I didn’t know much about the others, but I had a feeling they were thinking about how little they truly knew about Sawyer, someone they’d been playing with for years. The tension closed in on us like a vice.

“Can we get back to the tequila story now?” Monty whined and brought the glass to his lips. “All of this talk is too serious for me.”

The rest of the table broke out into laughter, the tension draining from the room. “Fair enough. Anyway, we were on the camping trip and a few of us had snuck alcohol into our bags after they’d been checked by the coaches.” I held up the bottle in front of me. “Most of us brought a beer or two. Not Sawyer, though. That idiot brought a whole bottle of tequila.”

“On a school trip?” Jackson seemed slightly shocked.

“Oh, please.” Monty elbowed him. “Like you never brought alcohol anywhere you weren’t supposed to.”

“Not all of us have your track record of doing crazy shit. Of course I brought it places, but not on a school trip.”

“Well, Sawyer wanted to prove he could handle the tequila,” I continued. “After the coaches had gone to bed that first night, everyone met up in our tent with whatever they brought. Most of us got drunk off the one or two beers we’d brought. Sawyer kept taking shot after shot of tequila before eventually passing out. A few of the guys almost passed out and we forced them back to their tent.”

“Did he puke in the tent?”

“Did he wake up the coaches?”

“Did he sleep in the wrong tent?”

The questions were coming at me so quickly I couldn’t tell who was asking what. I tried to answer them all at once. “None of those. I left him alone for maybe a minute while two of us got rid of the evidence. I figured he was asleep, he’d be fine.”

The corners of Sawyer’s lips twitched as he tried to fight off the smile. The one that always brought one to my own face. It made me feel at home.

“I’d been so fucking wrong. When I got back to the tent he was missing. I woke up a few of the guys who I knew weren’t too drunk. To help me find him.”

Mari wrapped her hand around my arm and moved in closer. “Where did you find him?”

Sawyer’s nostrils flared, but I had no intention of calling him out in front of his friends. Whatever was going on between the two of them, they could deal with it when they were on their own.

“More than three hours later, we found him trying to take a bath in the river. From what we could find of his clothes, he’d strip—”

Sawyer wrapped his hand around my mouth. “Okay, that’s enough.”

For the briefest of moments, I thought about licking the palm of his hand. Something we did as kids when one of us tried to shut the other up. But something I couldn’t explain stopped me. For some reason, it didn’t feel right.

Monty shook his head. “Oh, no. I want to hear the whole thing.”

Sawyer kept his hand firmly over my mouth and tried to stare down Monty. When that didn’t work and Monty simply rested his head in his hand waiting, he threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. Tell them.”

Once again, I looked at Sawyer to make sure he really was fine with it. Sawyer and I may have work to do to repair our relationship, but he was still my friend. I’d only met the people at the table a few hours ago. Someday we might become friends, but at the moment Sawyer was my only concern.

When no one was looking, he gave me a quick wink. A strange feeling settled in my gut. Nothing that I had any hope of explaining, but I never wanted to do anything to cause Sawyer pain. None of this pissed him off, he just wanted to give his bandmates a hard time. I rubbed my fingers along my chin, making them wait longer for the story.

Mari bumped her shoulder with mine. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Well, apparently Sawyer had tried to take a nap, by hugging a tree.”

Sawyer winced. His hand reached down below the table. Probably trying to make sure everything was all in one piece.

“Oh, fuck,” Monty breathed. “Naked against a tree?”

Sawyer said nothing, but he gave him a nod.

“Damn, was there anywhere you didn’t have scratches or splinters?”

Sawyer shivered. “I don’t want to think about those. I told you tequila wasn’t my friend.”

“No shit.” I chuckled and turned back to the rest of the group. “Apparently, he got in the lake to get rid of the splinters.”

We were lucky that no one fell out of the booth. Even Sawyer couldn’t stop himself from laughing. It was nice to see the way his face lit up around his friends. For some reason, I had a feeling that keeping everything bottled up hadn’t been easy for him. I doubt he let go most of the time, afraid he might slip up. The question was, slip up about what?

I pushed the thought out of my head and just let myself enjoy the moment. There was no way our friendship would be completely salvaged if all I ever worried about were the secrets Sawyer kept. Whatever he left unsaid had to do with him and not me, and I needed to remember that. Eventually, at least I hoped, Sawyer would be ready to talk and I’d be there to listen. For now I planned on getting to know the members of the band. The whole ‘any friends of Sawyers and all that’ and hope like hell that eventually was sooner rather than later.