Chapter Twelve
Doc canceled physical therapy for a week and chewed me out worse than Coach did after an error on the field. He wasn’t happy with how I kept pushing too far too fast. It didn’t help that Coach Hummel gave me a second ass-chewing the minute I set foot back on campus. I took it easy on my knee as the week flew by. When I wasn’t in class or in Coach’s office watching tape, I was with Mallory. It didn’t feel like we ever had enough time.
Mallory and I walked toward the lounge for game seven of the World Series.
“Favorite music?” I kept my hands in the pocket of my blue Westland hoodie to fight back the chill in the air.
“Country. I love Jason Aldean, Little Big Town, and Maddie & Tae.”
“Luke Bryan?”
She shuddered as a cool November wind bit against her skin. “Him, too. What about you?”
“Country’s good, but mostly alternative. Imagine Dragons, Twenty-One Pilots, bands like that. They help me think.”
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t get that. Music distracts me. I can’t read or study with it on. The TV, though…” She bounced a finger at me. “That I can have on while I study.”
I faked a gasp when my phone actually rang. I yanked it from my pocket and glanced at the caller ID.
“Who is it?” Mallory asked, clearly recognizing the grin on my face as a good one. As much as she hated me asking her questions, she had no problem interrogating me.
I simply answered the phone and Mallory’s question at the same time. “If it isn’t the world’s most annoying little sister.”
“Very funny, Aaron,” Chelsea replied with a sniffle. Either she’d been crying or she was getting a cold. My bet went with crying.
I froze, waiting for the bad news. “What’s wrong?”
“You know how I applied for early admission into NYU?” Chelsea sniffled louder. “Well, I got in.”
The tension raced from my body, and I breathed out. This wasn’t a bad thing. She’d dreamed of New York since I could remember. “If you got in, why are you crying?”
Chelsea broke into full-on tears then. Between her sobs, I managed to decipher, “Mom won’t let me go.”
“Calm down, Chels. I’ll call Mom tomorrow and talk to her. Just rein in your temper for the night.” Without thinking, I put my arm around Mallory’s shoulders and pulled her closer, tucking her against my body. “Trust me, it’ll be fine, and you’ll get to go. Mom’s probably freaking out like she did when I was drafted.”
“But you didn’t go to Arizona. I am going to New York.” Chelsea blew her nose into the phone.
“I know. And you’ll be great. Let the shock die off tonight.”
“Yeah, okay.” She heaved out a loud, dramatic breath. “You’re the best even if you smell like a cow patty.”
I laughed. “We have the same body odor genes, you know.”
We hung up, and I glanced down at Mallory. She wasn’t fighting to get away from our close proximity. Not that I wanted her to, but the fact she hadn’t shoved me into the grass was a good sign.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
My arm dropped from her shoulders. “It’s fine.”
I wouldn’t bring up the family drama unless Mallory dug deeper. And I knew she would. Her curiosity was infinite. We started walking again. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets to keep from reaching out for her. The entire left side of my body was cold. I wanted to feel her against it again but took comfort in the fact that she hadn’t pushed me away.
We hadn’t gone ten steps—yeah, I counted—when curiosity got the best of her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
Playing coy, I shrugged. “Not really. It’s not a big deal.”
Her head bobbed as if considering my vague answer. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Yeah.” Let the interrogation begin.
“How old is she?”
“Eighteen.”
“Why was she upset?”
“Mom.” Giving one-word answers drove her nuts. Mallory craved information and always more than a simple answer during our sessions. But I was afraid to tell her too much. I was afraid she’d shut down like she normally did when it came to family.
She nodded and took a deep breath before the next question. “What happened?”
“Chelsea got into a school. Mom doesn’t want her to go.”
“Aaron, you’re not being very verbose.”
I snorted. Time for a little truth, even if it hurt. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at the lounge for a moment. “Friends tell each other the truth, right?”
She turned around to face me, and I dropped my gaze to meet her eyes. “Yes.”
I dug my fingers into my palms to keep from touching her. “We don’t really talk about much. Family seems like a…hard topic for you. We keep everything simple. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth, but I couldn’t let her interrupt me now. “It’s okay. Really. But don’t be mad at me if I try to…if I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me because of it.”
She turned away and started toward the student union. I just stood there, not sure if I should follow her and beg for her to talk to me or if I should hustle back to my room. She stopped halfway to the entrance.
“Are you coming?” she asked over her shoulder.
Smiling, I hurried to catch up and took my place by her side as we went into the lounge together. Secretly, I thanked my little sister for calling me and giving me a chance to confront Mallory gently.
We sat in our usual spots on the couch. Mallory wrung her fingers together, her jaw locked tight. She turned toward me. “Why doesn’t your mom want Chelsea to go to that school?”
“It’s not just a school. It’s the city. Mom doesn’t like New York. When we were kids, she took us because Chelsea loves musicals.” I tapped my hands on my legs. “I didn’t want to go, but Mom insisted that I needed ‘culture.’ We were mugged. Mom’s been overprotective since. But that’s just the excuse she’s using. Mom doesn’t want us to grow up. It scares her.”
“That actually makes sense. Grandma didn’t want to leave me alone when she left.” Mallory relaxed and opened up. “I went to New York when I was five. It was Dad’s idea to see all the stadiums. We went to Yankees Stadium and Shea. I wanted to go to the history museum, but we didn’t go.”
“Why not?”
“He said there wasn’t enough time.” Mallory shrugged. “But he made time to spend an extra hour in the gift shop at Yankee Stadium.”
“You’ll get there.”
Mallory smiled sadly. “Maybe.”
Chuck sat on the arm of the couch and quizzed me about the tape Coach had me watch earlier in the day. When I glanced at Mallory, Rosenthal sat too close as he peppered her with questions. By the tight jaw and narrowed eyes, I could tell she was getting more and more uncomfortable.
I leaned over her and shoved him back. “Mind your space, rookie.”
“I was just talking to her, Betts. You need to relax,” he said with a sneer uglifying his pimply chin. I couldn’t wait to face him in live batting practice this spring. Rosenthal was a cocky shit, and he needed to be taken down a notch or ten.
“Go talk to someone else,” I said. Devon and Seth nudged him from behind, forcing him to stand. Seth took his spot, smiling at Mallory but making sure he was pressed against the arm of the couch. I leaned in close. “Are you okay?”
She kept her eyes glued to the TV and nodded.
I sat up, letting her have the space she needed. Honestly, I wanted to pummel that little shit. Rosenthal knew she was off-limits. He knew she didn’t want to talk to him. He knew not to get too close to her. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to get up and put my fist in his face.
“You’re moving around easier, Betts.” Seth smiled and nodded toward my knee. “Getting better?”
“Yeah, much better.” Because I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. With a little extra help.
Chuck leaned over the back of the couch between me and Mallory and asked in his usual no-filter way, “You two need to set a date for dinner. I’ve already got the place, and I know what I’m making. Just tell me when. Or do you want to go double or nothing?”
You two? When did I get involved in this?
Mallory’s mouth crooked up in a lopsided grin. She didn’t glance back at Chuck when she answered. “What did you have in mind?”
“If I win, no dinner and type two of my papers. If you win, I’ll make you and Betts dinner.” He paused dramatically. When I was about to stick a cattle prod up his nose, he added, “And breakfast.”
The world could’ve swallowed me whole.
“That’s interesting,” Mallory said without a missing a beat. She finally looked at him. “It’s a lot of effort to deliver to different places early in the morning.”
Chuck stared at her as the slam on me sunk in. Well, it felt like a slam to me. Why else would she say something like that? I was proud of her for it, too. He laughed loud enough to cause half the room to turn our way. Again, the floor could’ve opened up beneath my feet and I wouldn’t have given a damn.
“That’s ripe, Mallory,” Chuck wheezed between fits of hilarity.
She beamed back and dropped her gaze to mine. The embarrassment must have shown on my face, because that little spot between her eyebrows wrinkled together, and her smile disappeared. I hated that, but she’d actually hurt me in a way I didn’t think possible.
I turned away from her and settled more deeply into the corner. Chuck slapped my shoulder a few times before pushing off the back of the couch, signaling his departure. Mallory’s eyes stayed on me through the first pitch and well into the top of the inning.
After the Yankees went down one-two-three, she asked, “Are you okay?”
I snorted but didn’t answer.
“Aaron,” she said, putting her hand on my thigh and leaning in so that her sweet body pressed against mine. When her lips were on the edge of my ear, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I closed my eyes, memorizing how she felt against me. Her hand squeezed my thigh, and I thought the world was melting from the heat. Opening my eyes, I turned my head toward her and my lips found the edge of her ear.
“Forgive me, please,” she added.
“Always.” I meant it completely.
Mallory was shy, quiet, brilliant, but she was also awkward and off-balance. Standing in front of a room of students wouldn’t faze her; standing in a room of people who want to really get to know her was not in her comfort zone. If she asked me to run away and live in a cabin in the wilds of Montana, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat, knowing how comfortable she was without other people near her. Her body made my mind go numb, and I planted a soft kiss on the skin just beneath her ear. She shivered at the contact. This girl was seriously testing my powers. I pulled my head away from hers slowly, letting our skin barely touch until all that was left was the burn of where we’d been connected.
Mallory moved back into her spot in the center of the couch. Her face flushed a sweet pink. Hope spun like a whirlpool in my chest. Maybe this whole patience thing would pay off after all. Seth glanced at me with a huge grin.
We watched the rest of the game in intense silence. The Cards would take the lead, then the Yankees would take it right back. In the bottom of the ninth, local hero Jason Carter stepped to the plate. He’d graduated high school in Madison about six years before and went straight into AA. When he was nineteen, he made his Major League debut and won Rookie of the Year. Not that I’d admit it, but the guy was kind of my hero.
He fouled off the first two pitches. Mallory and I both moved to the edge of the couch, wondering if he could do it, if he could win the series with one swing.
The next pitch was low and outside.
The fourth pitch was high and tight. With the count two and two, the pitcher had little leeway.
Then the pitcher threw the heat straight down the middle. It must have come at Carter in slow motion. He kept his head down as he dropped his shoulder, swinging in one fluid motion. The sound of the ball meeting the ash of the bat was all anyone needed to know the game was over. The crowd erupted as the ball soared through the air. Mallory’s hand found mine, and she squeezed the life out of it. Both of us knew it was gone, but until the ball cleared the fence, we weren’t going to believe it.
Those three seconds felt like an eternity.
The right fielder leaped, his glove clearing the fence, but the ball bounced off the end of his mitt.
Jason Carter hit a walk-off home run, giving the Cardinals a World Series title.
Mallory and I jumped off the couch, screaming. I couldn’t have cared less who won, since the Sox weren’t in it. But, as a player, that was one of the best games I’d ever seen. Mallory must’ve felt the same by the way she was celebrating. She high-fived my team and beamed from ear to ear. Her eyes lit up with pride.
She turned toward me and wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest. Initially, it felt like a friendly hug. But she didn’t let go. She held me tight. My left hand snaked up her back, entangling my fingers in her wild hair. I couldn’t hear her sigh, but I felt it. I felt how her body relaxed into mine. My head dropped, burying my nose in those soft locks. God, she smelled like fresh roses. Somewhere the celebratory hug turned into something more. I didn’t want it to end.
Unfortunately, Chuck’s a dumbass sometimes. As insightful as he was, he often failed to see things right in front of his face when he wasn’t looking. He grabbed both of us, pulling us into a bear hug.
“Damn straight, boys and girl,” he screamed.
When he let go to torture other unsuspecting people, Mallory and I fell away from each other. She stared at me, confusion covering her face once again. I hated that. The careful control she held so high had disappeared for a moment. And she was truly happy. I knew it in my gut as I knew that the last walk-off home run in game seven of the World Series happened in 1960 when the Pirates won.
I smiled, anything to defuse the tension rolling from her. “Do you want to watch the rest or leave?”
She sucked the corner of her lip into her mouth as she considered her options. “I always liked it when the commish gives the trophy to the team.”
“Okay then.”
We sat on the couch, casually discussing the game. In the back of my mind I wondered how many moments we’d had where it felt like there was more than just friendship between us. There had been quite a few, but Mallory only really ran when I initiated anything. If I told her the truth, she didn’t run. If I acted on my feelings, she shut down. When she initiated it, like the hug we’d just shared, she got confused and tense. That was what I had to let her work through.
Chuck pushed Seth out of the way and sat beside Mallory during the postgame. When it came time to announce the MVP, we all cheered for the obvious hero. Jason Carter won a sweet new car to go along with the trophy. He beamed like a kid in a schoolyard.
“Jason, congratulations on winning the World Series and being named series MVP.” The announcer was interrupted by the cheers of the home crowd. “How does it feel?”
“Surreal. I feel so blessed right now. These fans are why we’re here today. Without them, there’s no way we could’ve won this game.” Jason waved at the crowd who started chanting his name.
I glanced at Mallory. She stared at the screen with a calmness on her face that I’d never really seen before.
“You got a tattoo before the playoffs and said if you won the World Series, you’d share the meaning behind it.”
Jason tugged up the sleeve of his left arm. On his bicep was the 23V32 tattoo that brought a lot of speculation, especially since he got it the day after the Cardinals clinched the division. Not the best time to get a tattoo.
“I lost some people very close to me once and promised myself that if I ever made it this far, they’d be with me.” Carter pointed to the sky, and I swear there was a tear in his eye, but it could’ve been sweat. “Coach V, Danny, I never would’ve gotten here without you. I miss you every day.”
He kissed two fingers and saluted his fallen friends.
I glanced at Mallory, expecting the usual girly tears from such an emotional declaration. That’s not what I saw. Her face was as pale as a corpse as she stared wide-eyed at the screen. She wrung her hands together in her lap, scraping her nails over the reddened skin. I reached toward her and covered her hand. Her head snapped toward me, and our old friend fear reflected in her eyes. No, not fear, complete terror.
“Do you need to leave?” I asked slowly, enunciating each word.
She couldn’t speak even as she opened her mouth to answer me. So she nodded. I helped her to her feet, held out her coat, and let her lead from the lounge. We walked the old familiar path to her car in silence. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped her keys three times before I took them from her and unlocked the door with the remote.
“Talk to me,” I whispered, leaning against the driver’s door so she couldn’t climb in and get herself killed.
Her voice still hadn’t returned, and she shook her head again. I watched her for a minute. She kept her head down and shuffled her feet with nervous energy. Reaching out, I touched her shoulder and opened my arms. Mallory glanced up at me with wary eyes.
“Come here,” I whispered.
Whatever was warring inside her mind, the need for comfort won out. She collapsed in my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I held her close and ran my fingers along her spine, making shushing sounds and telling her it was okay even though I had no idea what caused the sudden onslaught.
Her tears slowed, and I pulled my head back to look down at her. “Let me take you home.”
She sniffled and finally found her voice. “I can drive.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think you should, and I would never forgive myself if you were in an accident. Please, Mallory, let me take care of you.”
Her lip sucked into her mouth, but for once, she didn’t think too long. “How will you get back?”
“Don’t worry about that. Seth or Chuck will come get me.” I steered her to the passenger side and helped her in. Once I settled into the driver’s seat, I turned the key, enjoying the low rumble of the engine as it roared to life. “I knew you’d let me drive it sooner or later.”
Mallory let out a small laugh. “Just take it easy, cowboy.”
“Cowboy?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “I like the sound of that.”
She rewarded me with an eye roll. Her phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and stared at the screen for a moment. I waited to back out until she gave me directions. Whoever was on the other end made her hesitate. Finally, she swiped the screen.
“Hey.” She turned away from me while she listened. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Why’d she turn away from me?
She sucked a sob back in. “We’ll talk about this later, Cutter. Just… Not now.”
Cutter? Why’d she feel the need to hide?
“I’m sorry. That was… Anyway, turn right out of the lot.” She sat ramrod straight in her seat. “My house is pretty easy to get to.”
Mallory lived on the edge of town not far from the campus. The closer we got to her house, the more tension built in her body. Whether it was from the phone call or from me being so close to her house, I didn’t know.
As instructed, I parked in front of a small shotgun style house that had a room sitting on top of the back. It looked like an L that was tipped over from the right and was nestled between two small A-frames.
I followed Mallory, feeling eyes on me from every direction. When I glanced around, there wasn’t anybody in sight. It was creepy even though I knew it was just a nosy neighbor. Mallory unlocked the front door, took a visible breath, and stepped inside, flicking on a light.
She dropped her keys into a tortoiseshell bowl and hung her coat on a hook in the short hallway. A gray tabby leaped on the bench and meowed. Mallory scratched it behind its ears as she set her bags beside it. The cat jumped down and disappeared into the small living room, but not before glaring at me. Mallory followed it. The room had a plum couch and matching chair. It didn’t fit her. On the far wall was an old TV surround by photos in ornate frames. I took in every part of the house; each bit seemed more old lady-ish. A crocheted afghan hung over the back of the chair and lacy doilies centered every table. Just past the couch was an open kitchen with almond countertops and appliances. Beyond that was another short hallway, steps to the upper floor, and three doors. I wanted to explore the rooms to see if there was any space that was hers and not her grandmother’s.
“Take off your coat,” Mallory instructed, motioning to the coat rack.
I wasn’t expecting her to let me stay for very long, but I also hadn’t texted Chuck to get me yet, either. After hanging up my coat, I followed her to the couch. There was one single personal touch in the room that screamed Mallory. Her books were stacked on the table and beneath an end table. Her cat watched me from its perch on the back of the couch. The photos around the TV were clearly family. Curiosity got the best of me and I stood, stepping over to them. An old black-and-white photo of a beautiful brunette in a wedding gown holding hands with a guy with wild hair stood in a silver frame next to a similar photo of a woman with wild curly hair, holding the hand of a trim, athletic man.
“My grandparents.” Mallory pointed at the black-and-white photo then moved her finger over to the other one. “My parents.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. Mallory’s gaze stared off into another place, maybe another time. I picked up one of Mallory in a red graduation gown holding her high school diploma. Her expression was blank, neither happy nor sad. The rest of the photos were of her parents or her grandparents. There weren’t any more of her.
Mallory sniffled, and I drew my gaze back to her. She curled her legs to her chest, resting her cheek on her knees while she watched me. One last tear trickled from her eye.
I opened my arms to her. “Come here.”
She shook her head.
“Then talk to me.” I paused before adding, “About anything you want. You don’t have to tell me what set you off tonight, but for the love of all things, Mallory, talk to me.”
I couldn’t say how long we sat like that, staring at each other. Waiting was torture, but that was the only thing I really knew how to do with her.
“I’m not good at this,” she said.
“Good at what?”
She didn’t answer. The silence pressed on my chest. I stood to relieve the pressure of the frustration building inside. It had been growing for a long time and I didn’t want to let it out now. Five weeks and I still knew so little about her. I paced the room for several minutes before kneeling in front of her. My knee popped, sending electric shocks of complete agony through my heart. The only thing I could do was to ignore it. Focus on Mallory. I could see myself and the desperation on my face as I stared into her eyes.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” I asked.
Neither one of us blinked as I waited for her answer. “I don’t… Aaron, I don’t really talk to people.”
Closing my eyes, I released a frustrated breath. Bullshit. She talks to her friend in L.A. And her friend in St. Louis. The Hipster, the people in her classes. And Cutter, whoever that was. “Don’t or won’t, Mallory?”
Her body started to shake again, and I moved beside her, pulling her into my arms. The tears erupted as soon as her face was buried in my chest. Christ, even if I could get her to talk, what would she tell me? There was something dark lurking just beneath her surface. She fought it every day. She made herself an island.
“It’s okay, Mallory,” I whispered into her hair. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I meant it. Every fucking word. I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d started this thing with Mallory Fine to solve the mystery of her, but it had grown into so much more. Solving the mystery was one thing, but unraveling all the knots that tied her up was another. I wanted to do both.
“My parents died when I was fourteen,” she said through a round of sniffles. “They…they were on their way back from a baseball game in Iowa City when a tractor trailer rear-ended them.” She raised her head, meeting my gaze. “I…I was at a softball tournament in Council Bluffs when…Grandma came to the field and told me.”
Her head fell against my shoulder. I couldn’t imagine what she must have felt. My parents weren’t perfect, but I still had them. But why weren’t they at her tourney? Why did they go to Iowa City for a baseball game? A piece of Mallory kicked into place. Her mom and dad chose baseball over her. And it cost them their lives. If they’d chosen Mallory, they never would’ve been on that road, never would’ve been in that accident. No wonder she hated the game so much.
An hour and a half later, I left Mallory asleep on her couch. The gray tabby reappeared, curling up beside her and hissing at me. I covered her with the afghan, barely missing the claws of death swatting my way. The cat glared at me as I left the house. I caught a cab back to the dorm. I fell into my own bed, colder than I’d ever felt. For the first time since grade school, I had nightmares. When I woke the next day, a cold sweat covered my body and all I could remember was Mallory walking away from me no matter how much I begged her to stay.