Chapter 3—One More Time

* Riley *

On Tuesday morning, I walked into the locker room. I’d played a good game on Saturday, and the team was now two and one, though we hadn’t played a conference game yet. Coach gave us Monday off, and I’d spent the time between classes studying for a test.

I wasn’t the greatest student. Before coming to live with Uncle Coop, my mom and I moved around a lot and were homeless from time to time, making it difficult to get a basic education. When it came to schoolwork, I’d been playing catch-up for as long as I could remember. Maintaining a C average was a struggle. Uncle Coop had paid for tutors when I was in high school, and Tiff had helped me with reading and spelling. She was a whiz at both. But then she’d been a straight-A student without working at it, and I’d been the dumb jock.

I envied my roommate Gage, who partied every night, skipped classes, and rarely cracked a book but still managed to pass his classes with Bs. The guy was a genius, even though he hated to be pegged as one.

I’d slanted my communications major with an eye to sports broadcasting or something that kept me connected to sports if a pro career wasn’t in my future. Planning a career in any professional sport was iffy at best. A guy could be the most talented guy in the NCAA and suffer some freak, career-ending injury. I’d lived a crappy life until coming to live with Uncle Coop, and I’d never leave myself hanging when it came to a future. I wanted my options open.

It’d been over a week since I’d seen Tiff, and I caught myself constantly looking for her on campus. My heartbeat sped up every time I caught sight of a petite blonde, and there were a lot of women matching that description at the Ty.

Gage sat down on the bench next to me and pulled off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. “So, fess up. What’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal.”

“You’ve got something.”

“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” I yanked on my shoulder pads and practice jersey a little too roughly, ignoring Gage’s knowing gaze.

“Yeah, you do.” My friend lowered his voice, indicating he was willing to keep the convo private, rather than spread it all over hell and back, or even worse, the locker room. These guys smelled blood worse than a pack of wolves, and a smart guy never let them see weakness.

Tiff was my weakness, a big one.

“Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Cuz I’ve been hungover and not thinking straight. When I was sober, you never seemed to be around.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Gage’s drinking and whoring had reached epic proportions in the past year. Not that he’d ever been a saint, but turning twenty-one triggered his inner party-hound like nothing I’d ever seen.

“I’ve been around. You haven’t.”

He shrugged. “New crop of freshman girls.” He offered no additional explanation. He didn’t need to.

I pulled my cleats from my locker and placed them on the floor in front of my size thirteen feet. I kept my focus on those shoes, even as Gage’s eyes burned through me. He had more to say, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. I picked up one shoe and meticulously adjusted the laces, hoping he’d get bored and harass someone else.

“You’re not alone, you know.”

I jerked my head up and narrowed my eyes, studying Gage, certain I hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

“You’re not the only one nursing a broken heart. We all have our scars. So, your past came back to haunt you. Hey, shit happens. Pull your fucking head out of your ass and move on. She doesn’t give a shit about you, or she wouldn’t have dashed out of there like a deer chased by a squadron of gun-toting militia.”

“Wait a minute.” I backed up a few sentences in my head and reran what I’d heard him say. “You? A broken heart?” He’d certainly done his share of breaking hearts, but I’d never once suspected he pined for a girl the way I pined for Tiff.

He shrugged and averted his gaze, refusing to meet mine. He scratched that shaggy blond hair the chicks loved and rummaged through his messy locker. The equipment staff tidied it up every day before practice. Within five minutes, Gage had turned it into a disaster. We’d had a few come-to-Jesus meetings at the house because of his slovenliness. Mostly, I gave in and picked up after him. He had no issue living in chaos. I did. I hadn’t always been like that, but now I liked things neat and orderly, one of the by-products of the shooting.

Gage dressed quickly and stood, staring down at me, a pitying expression on his face. He punched my shoulder and grinned, but his eyes remained clouded with concern. “Let her go, Ry.”

I bent down to tie my cleats and heard his footsteps as he left the locker room. I heaved out the breath I’d been holding and sighed wearily. Everyone in my life was giving me the same advice. Let her go. Move on.

I would.

After I saw her one more time.

* Tiff *

I stared at the sink stacked with dishes and sighed. The dishes hadn’t been washed since Sunday, and it was now Tuesday, but Alisa and I both agreed to stop enabling Wayne. We had a deal. Alisa and I cooked and cleaned the house. Wayne did dishes and took out the trash. We didn’t ask much of him, and he didn’t deliver much, if anything.

Sometimes I regretted the day I’d agreed to let Wayne live with us. The guy was a total, absolute slob, but my mom loved the idea of a gay guy living with two girls. She thought he was protection.

Hardly. We’d have to beat off the intruders with a stick while he cowered under the bed.

Wayne was not your stereotypical gay guy. He was more of a nerd type, didn’t know a damn thing about interior design or clothing, and his idea of cooking was boiling Top Ramen. He loved sports but didn’t play them, and his hair was a tangled mess of too-long, wavy locks. He walked around in a state of perpetual cluelessness, which I admired to a point.

Alisa and I accused him of living with us because he had a mother complex. He was absolutely helpless and never once complained when we mothered him too much. Regardless of his faults, he was fiercely loyal to Alisa and now to me.

I’d been living with these two since early summer when I’d finished up my classes in California. Last week, we’d moved into this rental house near campus, which gave each of us our own bedroom. Living with them beat moving back in with my mother, who was embracing the drama of her divorce with the dysfunctional glee of a reality TV star, bad-mouthing my dad at every turn while she proceeded to screw him over every which way. Dad wasn’t totally blameless in this mess. Far from it. But I’d come to realize in my twenty-one years that nothing is black and white, but shades of gray. I couldn’t blame my dad for getting out of a miserable marriage, even if I didn’t care for his methods. I’d always thought they had a good marriage until my senior year of high school when they both dropped the pretenses, took off the gloves, and went at it. I’d avoided going home at all costs and probably hung out too much with Riley, giving him false hope.

Guilt sat heavy in my gut when I thought about how I led him on for my own selfish reasons. I’d been such a mess, and I clung to him because I needed someone to cling to. He’d taken it as a sign I felt the way he did. Only I couldn’t. Loving someone like that wasn’t in me. I didn’t know if it ever would be again.

I owed Riley an apology and closure for both of us. We’d never really dated, just hung out, but we’d had a magical night, one night during which I’d shelved my problems and enjoyed myself. We’d gone to the senior kegger as friends—or at least I had. If I hadn’t been a little tipsy, I’d have picked up on the clues, but I’d been too wrapped up in my own world. I’d enjoyed being in his strong arms, and that one night had stayed with me ever since.

Yeah, I owed it to Riley and myself to tie up loose ends. Finding him shouldn’t be too difficult. I could probably get his number from our high school classmates, but I’d rather not involve anyone else.

I glanced at my watch. Riley should be finishing up football practice. If I hurried I could catch him. Before I lost my nerve, I headed for the door just as Wayne was coming in, and ran right into him.

“Whoa, slow down.” He steadied me with his big hands. “Where’s the fire?”

“It should be in the sink. The only way we’ll ever get those dishes done is with a fire hose.”

He ducked his head and tossed a sheepish smile my way. “I’m a bad roommate.”

I found it so hard to stay mad at this guy. He had such an awkward charm and not a mean bone in his body. “You are. Wash them now. Please.”

He saluted me. “Yes, Princess T. Your wish is my command.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think so, or those dishes would’ve been done days ago.”

Again, he studied me. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Just going to study.” Now I was the one avoiding his gaze. He could read me like a book, even in the short time we’d known each other. Living with two psych majors had it perks and drawbacks. Mostly drawbacks. Psychoanalyzing me was their favorite pastime.

“You’ve been strange ever since you ran into him.”

“I didn’t run into him. We didn’t get within thirty feet of each other.”

He nodded knowingly, and I imagined him mentally thumbing through multiple diagnoses for my issues. I pushed past him and hurried down the sidewalk, not looking back. I got in my car and drove to the parking lot behind the stadium and found it empty. I was too late. I turned my crappy little car around and headed for the barn. Avery would know how to find Riley, and I could trust her. She might be his aunt, but I’d known her longer.

I arrived at the barn in record time. It was my happy place, the one place I belonged and could forget the problems weighing me down. Avery rode a training horse in the outdoor arena. I took a seat in one of the plastic lawn chairs and waited patiently. I could watch her ride all day. Her talent brought out the best in every horse she rode, and I was mesmerized as she put the large animal through his paces.

Eventually, she rode him over to where I sat and smiled down at me, resting her hands on her mount’s neck. “Hey, Tiff. Anything wrong? I didn’t expect to see you back this afternoon since you had a lesson this morning.” Her brow furrowed with concern.

“I’m good, but I need a favor.” My heart thudded in my chest so loudly I feared she could hear it. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“Sure, anything.” She swung off the horse. “Walk with me, I need to cool him down.”

I fell in step with her and the horse, planning my next words carefully. “Do you think you could ask Riley to meet me here at the barn?”

She did an admirable job of not showing her surprise. “Sure, any particular time?”

“I know he has practice most afternoons, maybe tomorrow evening if that works out for him.”

To her credit, she didn’t ask me why. “I’ll ask him and get back with you.”

“Thanks.” I patted the horse on the shoulder and beat cleats out of there. I stopped in the barn to feed Dexter a carrot. He leaned over the stall door and nickered at the first sound of my footsteps on the rubberized cobblestoned barn aisle. Dexter wasn’t the prettiest horse in the barn by far. He was small as far as dressage horses went but was a perfect size for me. He was the kindest horse I’d ever ridden, and he tried hard to please. Dex was also talented and well-trained. Back when I showed him, we cleaned up in the junior classes and some of the open classes, too. He was trained to the highest level of dressage, Grand Prix, but I’d never shown him at that level. In fact, I hadn’t shown him since the incident, as I liked to call the shooting, my way of minimizing the horror of what had happened. Once in a while, Avery or Sam, the barn owner and head trainer, suggested I enter a show, but so far, I’d avoided competition of any kind.

I hugged Dex, and he pressed his broad forehead against my chest. He’d been my lifeline for years, and I didn’t know how I’d survive without him. My parents’ divorce endangered my ability to keep him, but Sam had offered me a job at the barn. We worked around my schedule, and I helped out where and when I could by cleaning stalls, riding horses in training, teaching some lessons to children, and whatever else I could do to earn money, because money was really tight for me right now. On Sundays, I fed the horses in the morning and turned them out.

Giving Dex one last carrot, I walked back down the barn aisle and into the September sunshine, intent on enjoying the last of the Seattle summer.

I got in my old car and drove home, trying not to think about facing Riley tomorrow and explaining the unexplainable, because I didn’t completely understand my behavior. But he’d been a good friend, and I owed him the best explanation I could give him.

Whatever that was.