CHAPTER FIVE

 

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DELANEY QUICKLY DISCOVERED that avoiding Travis Forsythe was harder than she could have imagined.

She'd become used to flying under people's radar. Days could go by without another student saying a word to her. Teachers—rather than fight a losing battle—had long ago stopped trying to get her to participate during class. Delaney did her assignments, received excellent grades. In fact, academically, she sat at the top of her class.

Socially, she was… nothing. Someday, Delaney promised herself, she'd push out of her shell. But not now. Not today. Or in the next six months. When she burst from her cocoon, she'd be far away from Green Hills.

Unfortunately, Travis had other ideas. Hard to avoid—sneaky. Why was he picking on her?

His campaign—Delaney couldn't think of any other way to describe Travis' tactics—began the next day.

"Good morning," Travis said with a warm smile.

Certain he couldn't be speaking to her, Delaney kept her head down as she took her books from her locker. The one on the end of the row—where she could get in and out with as little fuss and muss as possible.

"I said good morning, Del." Travis bent over just enough to bring his face even with hers. "Now, you say, good morning, Travis."

Delaney didn't know who was more surprised. The pretty brunette sophomore who—only a few feet to the right—had quite naturally assumed Travis had meant his greeting for her? Or Delaney, who wished she could crawl into her locker and lock the door?

Rather than stick around and contemplate the answer, Delaney scooted around the gaping girl—and several of her friends—careful not to look at Travis. She didn't know what had gotten into him, but whatever his problem, the last thing she wanted to do was give him any encouragement.

"See you in class."

Delaney bit her lip. Hard. But not because Travis' sudden interest upset her. Inexplicably—for the first time in she didn't know how long—she wanted to laugh.

Skirting around the crowd that always seemed to follow Travis from place to place, Delaney couldn't resist taking a peek, hoping he wouldn't notice. No such luck. As if reading her mind, he grinned. And winked.

Delaney concealed her laugh behind a cough. And people called her crazy.

Entering her first period advanced calculus class, she took her usual seat in the back. Travis always sat near the middle. Delaney waited, wondering if he'd break protocol and sit by her. To her relief—honestly, she assured herself, she was relieved—he barely glanced her way as he slid his long, lanky body onto the same chair he occupied every day.

Deciding Travis had his fun and would now leave her be, Delaney opened her book, immersing herself in the one part of her life that always made sense. She loved school. Thrived on learning.

English. History. Science. Math. She embraced them all, her mind a sponge, eagerly soaking up every bit of knowledge.

Advanced calculus was a highlight of her day. Though Delaney had little trouble with the curriculum, Ms. Bennett had the ability to make the subject interesting—at times, even challenging.

"The test on Friday will cover chapters six through ten," Ms. Bennett informed them just before the end of the class. "If you have any questions, let me know."

"Do you have any questions?" Travis whispered as they filed from the room, his voice low so only Delaney could hear.

"No." Delaney knew the smartest thing to do would be not to engage, but she found the reply passing her lips before she could remember to bite her tongue.

"Silly question. You always know the answers."

"No. I don't." Not about anything really important.

Travis fell in step with her, drawing the kind of attention Delaney had always succeeded in avoiding. Until now.

The popular jock and the invisible girl. The oddest of odd couples. Not that they were a couple. God forbid.

Delaney's thoughts raced as she tried to think of a way to get rid of Travis. She couldn't begin to guess where his thoughts ran.

"I would love to know what questions could possibly stump you," Travis said. "Another time. Want to eat lunch together?"

"No."

"I have practice after school, or I'd offer to walk you home. Maybe tomorrow?"

"No!"

Travis didn't seem to hear the horror in Delaney's voice. Or he chose to ignore it.

"Okay." Travis shrugged, obviously not the least bit concerned by her terse response. "See you later."

Dumbfounded, Delaney watched as Travis wound his way through the hall, answering as somebody called out to him. Nodding to his friends. Flirting with every girl as if by osmosis. Acting as though nothing unusual had occurred. And for him, she supposed, nothing had.

Giving herself a mental shake, Delaney took her seat. She couldn't worry about Travis Forsythe and his whims. He'd forget about her soon enough when something bright and shiny caught his eye.

But still. Travis was a puzzle.

 

THE WEEK PASSED quickly. Travis didn't have time to pursue his friendship with Delaney. She would have been surprised to find out how often she entered his thoughts. Usually when he was lifting weights or running laps.

When his body was occupied with repetitive workouts, his mind always drifted. More often than not, he ended up thinking about Delaney.

As long as Travis could remember, he thought she was strange. If he thought of her at all. Now, he realized the problem didn't lie with Delaney, but with him. With all the students at Green Hills High School. They were so wrapped up in their own lives that they couldn't be bothered to see what had always been right in front of them.

Delaney wasn't strange. She was lonely.

One look into her eyes and he knew. Perhaps the age difference was the culprit. Or the fact that she was just so much damn smarter than the rest of them. For whatever reason, she hadn't made friends after the administration skipped her ahead a few grades.

The idea that he could help curb a bit of Delaney's loneliness might seem odd. But in some ways, Travis needed a friend as much as she did.

Weighed down by expectations, he sometimes felt isolated from the people he'd known his entire life.

Travis' father wanted him to be a success. Alan Forsythe's dreams rested on his son stepping higher than he had. Pick an occupation. He didn't care. Baseball player. Mathematician. The job didn't matter. Alan didn't want Travis to live from paycheck to paycheck, always wondering if next month would bring the day he didn't have enough money in the bank to meet his obligations.

Then there were Travis' friends. His peers.

The girls wanted to hang off the arm of a famous athlete. The guys wanted to latch onto a future superstar. Even Eddie—the person Travis would have once sworn could never be blinded by celebrity—seemed more and more interested in the time when he could start sponging off his famous buddy.

Eddie always laughed off his comments. But each time—delivered with increased frequency—Travis felt a wave of unease he found harder and harder to shake off.

"There you are," Eddie called out. Dressed in street clothes, he fell in step with Travis, puffing hard before they finished a half lap of the track. "What's the deal running during lunch hour?"

Travis had a fairly steady workout routine. In fact, most days one could set one's watch by it. However, there were times when his dad needed help on a job. After school today, instead of hitting the gym, he'd be on his way to the nearby town of Prescott.

"If Dad doesn't finish Mrs. Banks' roof today, he'll miss out on the job rewiring Mayor Detwiler's hunting lodge."

"So, skip running for one day."

"Can't," Travis said, not missing a stride when Eddie stopped. "Don't want to fall behind.

Eddie bent over, resting his hands on his knees. Using the last of his breath, he yelled, "You're a freaking machine, man."

Travis chuckled, increasing his speed. Four more laps. He could have easily done ten, but time wasn't on his side. Tomorrow, he promised himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, Travis caught a streak of dark gray. Delaney rushing toward the music room. Funny. A week ago, he wouldn't have noticed how fast she was when she wanted to be. Or how she stayed as close to the buildings as possible in an attempt to blend in—to go undetected.

Those days were over.

At least as far as Travis was concerned.

 

IF SHE WERE asked, Delaney wouldn't have been able to explain exactly how Travis managed to finagle his way into her life.

If he'd pushed, she would have been able to push back—in her own way. Force she understood. After living in the same house as Munch Brill for seven years, Delaney was practically an expert.

Travis wasn't a bull, getting his way by smashing everything in his path. He was more subtle. Like a big, blue-eyed puppy. Seemingly harmless and impossible to resist.

Her original plan to simply avoid him had been doable; she was certain he'd grow bored with the novelty of hanging around the weird girl. Travis didn't really want a new friend. He wanted a challenge. A new, unusual way to pass his time between school and working out—he always seemed to be running in circles or lifting weights.

Or—what was the term—shagging balls? Why did so many things that had to do with sports sound slightly risqué? Even downright dirty?

Delaney smiled at her wayward musings.

"Want to share the joke?"

She glanced at Travis, swerving back to her original train of thought. He walked her home most days. Through the back alleys where nobody could see them. The first time, Delaney had insisted he stop two blocks from her house. Travis hadn't asked why, as if understanding the subject wasn't open for debate.

Maybe that was the secret to his method. Travis recognized Delaney's boundaries, immediately backing away when she tensed or became uncomfortable. Yet, he never gave up.

A month of walking by her side. A month of innocent conversations about school. Or his father's current job. Or how old Delaney was when she first began playing the piano.

They were on the cusp of friendship. Which was why Delaney felt comfortable enough to tease Travis for the first time.

"Why do guys who are innately homophobic have no problem playing with each other's balls?"

Travis stopped in his tracks.

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Baseballs. Basketballs. Footballs," she clarified.

When Travis' expression didn't change, Delaney wondered if she'd made an error in judgment. Had she offended him with her joke? And if so, how would he retaliate? She inched away, ready to flee. Then, to her relief, Travis threw his head back and laughed.

"You are full of surprises. Smart and a sense of humor." Travis wiped the moisture from his eyes.

As Delaney tipped her head up so she could look Travis directly in the face—a move she wouldn't have considered until recently—she automatically raised a hand to push her glasses up her nose. But they weren't there. The moment they were alone, Travis would take away the frames with the clear glass, keeping them in his pocket as they walked.

At first, Delaney protested. Travis simply ignored her. Now, she handed the glasses over without a second thought.

"Don't you miss riding your motorcycle to school?"

Travis shrugged.

"The damn machine is broken down more often than not. Besides, I like walking. With you. Unless I can talk you into riding with me."

The twinkle in his blue eyes told Delaney Travis wasn't serious. He was so sure she wouldn't agree to get behind him on his bike. But he was wrong. If circumstances were different—if she weren't certain Munch would blow a gasket—Delaney wouldn't hesitate.

She wanted to believe her streak for adventure—the one she'd embraced as a child—lurked deep inside. The longing to take a ride behind Travis gave her hope.

"I want to. But…"

"When you're ready, I'll take you." Travis sent her a sideways grin. "If the motor on that old machine cooperates."

"Really?" Delaney heard the neediness in her voice but didn't care.

"I promise."

"Thank you."

"I haven't done anything yet," Travis said, his smile warm.

"Yes. You have."

Before Travis could ask her what she meant, Delaney snatched her glasses from his pocket, turned, running the rest of the way home. She slowed her gait before entering the house—Munch insisted she conduct herself in a ladylike manner. Taking the stairs, she shut her door, falling onto her bed with a happy sigh.

Travis had given Delaney something to look forward to—even if she never found the chance to take him up on his offer

"Delaney?" Alma's voice echoed down the long hall. "Put your things away and come help me with dinner."

Carefully, Delaney placed her school books in a neat pile on the small desk. Neat as a pin—just like the rest of her room. Before she left, she smoothed the blanket on the twin bed, straightening her pillow.

She hated the faded pink sheets splashed with pale yellow daisies. Just as she hated the twin bed with the carved white headboard. And the pile of stuffed animals that seemed to mock her from their perch on the window seat. Even the attached bathroom was pink from the walls to towels to the toilet.

The decor was Munch's idea. His way of keeping Delaney a little girl—until…

Hastily, Delaney left the room. With a firm pull, she closed the door, wishing she could shut off her thoughts as easily. Why couldn't she have held onto the dream of riding on Travis' motorcycle just a little longer?

Because this house is filled with fear and sadness. The walls seemed to sniff out any hint of happiness with frightening efficiency. Not so long ago she would have said the same about the town in which she lived.

Abandon hope all ye who enter here. True, Dante hadn't written about Green Hills However, the sentiment fit well enough.

Lately, when Delaney walked outside, she could feel a change in the air. She had a friend. She had somebody to laugh with. Something to look forward to.

Delaney—at least for now—had Travis.