Chapter Nine
The last thing I remembered was doing shots at O’Malley’s. I groaned as the light infiltrated my room. Then I wondered how the blinds got opened. Living on the first floor of the dorm, I kept my blinds closed. Learned the hard way my freshman year when a drunk girl climbed in the wrong window.
“Hey, sweetie,” a soft feminine voice said on the other side of my room.
I flipped over, groaning at the pain that encircled my head. It was nothing compared to what shot from my knee. What the hell?
A blonde sat in my chair, tugging on a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. She smiled, and her face flashed before me from the night before. The waitress at O’Malley’s was in my room, obviously getting dressed. She stood and strode toward me.
“Thanks for a great night,” she said as she bent and kissed my forehead. “Mallory’s one lucky girl. See you around.”
She sashayed out of my room and closed the door behind her. As soon as the latch clicked, I fell back against my pillows, grabbing my head. I vaguely remembered her feeding me shots. I vaguely remembered her running her red nails down my arm. I vaguely remembered… Holy Shit. I didn’t even know her name.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. Twenty until ten. History class didn’t start until ten after. So I had time. Icing my knee seemed like a good idea.
My cell buzzed on the desk, vibrating itself right onto the floor. Chelsea’s face flashed on the screen in one of her classiest poses: tongue sticking out and eyes crossed. I grabbed it and swiped to answer.
“Hey, Chels,” I said, trying to seem wide awake and not at all hungover.
“Fun night in the cesspool of college life?” My little sister rarely missed a beat. “You sound like you ate gravel with breakfast.”
I cleared my throat. “Funny. What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Aren’t you?” A nervous laugh followed, setting me on high alert.
“Seriously, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” I tried to sit up, but that lasted all of two seconds before my head hit the pillow.
She sighed; the burden of the world weighed it down. “You remember Amanda?”
“The one you were glued to forever? Of course.” They were so close, Amanda even joined us on a family vacation the summer before Chelsea started high school. Things went downhill after that. “What about her?”
“She started spreading this rumor that I’m smoking pot behind the gym at lunch. Mr. Evans even asked me about it. Thank God, he’s not the type of teacher to rat me out to Mom and Dad. At least he believed me.” She gulped down another sigh. Or maybe it was a sob. Chelsea kept her emotions in check when she needed to. She’d hold it in at school, but it would all come out later. I felt sorry for the shitstorm Mom and Dad were going to end up in. “The thing is, I don’t have any idea why Amanda started hating me to begin with.”
I knew why, but I never wanted to hurt Chelsea. Amanda came on to me one night during a party. She was drunk off her ass, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing mine. I turned her down and made it clear nothing was ever going to happen between us. Unfortunately, she took her anger out on my sister instead of me.
“I just… It’s not even that big of a deal, but it still bothers me, you know? I mean, she was like my sister.”
I stuck my arm under my head and stretched. The strain on my leg actually felt good. “Betrayal sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” Chelsea sighed again, her favorite silence filler. “Speaking of betrayal, how’s life without Trish?”
I snorted. “Great.”
“Good. I hated her anyway.” A bell rang in the distance. “Shit, I have to go. Thanks, I just needed to get that out of my system.”
“Anytime, sis.”
We hung up, and I thought about Trish. Actually, I thought about how I hadn’t thought about Trish. Chelsea mentioning my ex’s name didn’t cause any great flare of pain or remorse. I felt nothing. I stretched again, and the knee sent a shot of lightning through my nerves.
Ice and an aspirin then off to Monroe’s class. Twenty minutes for a ten… Fuck! I didn’t have time. I was going to be fucking late to history. Rolling off my bed and landing on my good leg, I reached for the sweats, noticing not one but two empty condom wrappers on the floor. Great, I got laid twice, and I didn’t remember either time. Just fucking great.
It took me all of five minutes to get dressed, grab my bag, and limp out the door. I was halfway down the hall when Seth fell into step beside me.
“Guessing you got lucky last night,” he said, glancing down at my limp. “You’re limping pretty bad, Betts. I can help with that.”
“Not a good time. I’ll talk to you later.” I popped a prednisone and an aspirin, downing them with the water I’d grabbed and sped up my pace, which wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t a good idea. As soon as I cleared the front doors of the dorm, my knee buckled the wrong way. But I couldn’t be late. And I couldn’t miss class. On top of the agony, I’d forgotten my jacket. The cold, cloudy air drizzled just enough rain to be an annoyance.
I got across campus to Brexin Hall with less than a minute to spare. Yanking the door open, I slammed my knee into it. The slew of curses spewing from my lips would’ve made a sailor blush, but I couldn’t let a little pain stop me. I used the wall for support as I hustled toward the room. Dr. Monroe strolled from the opposite end of the hall, his head down in a newspaper. If I walked into the room after him, he’d chastise me in front of the class and deduct stupid participation points from my grade. Which I couldn’t afford to lose.
Sweat broke out on my forehead as my knee threatened to come apart. I wasn’t supposed to be doing anything this physical yet. My therapist was going to kill me. My doc was going to kill me. Not to mention my dad. At least I made it into the room before Monroe. I slid into my desk, fighting the urge to reach down and grab my knee.
Dr. Monroe glared at me for a moment before setting his worn-out briefcase on the table and jumping into a lecture. He talked for the entire fifty minute period. I swear he didn’t even take a breath. I tried to listen, but my tendons and muscles sawed away at my nerves. It was easy for my mind to wander back to the chick in my room.
Then it hit me like a piano from the eighth floor. She knew about Mallory, or at least her name. What in the hell did I say last night? I already knew what I did, but what did I fucking tell her? I had to get to O’Malley’s to find out. But what did I ask a girl whose name I couldn’t even remember?
Hey, remember me? I know we were getting busy last night, and I don’t have a clue who you are, but do you mind telling me what stupid shit came out of my mouth? Doubted that would go over well.
Dr. Monroe cleared his throat, forcing me out of my daze. Most of the class was gone or almost out the door.
“Is there a problem today, Mr. Betts?” He rocked back on his heels, clutching that ugly ass leather case in front of him.
I shrugged. “No, why?”
“You seem…distracted.” A smile lifted his salt-and-pepper mustache. “Again. I hope this class isn’t boring you too much. Miss Fine says you’re coming along quite nicely in your tutelage, but it appears you are somewhere else during my lectures. Please, do your best to make an effort to pretend to listen.”
I stood and almost crumpled as my knee gave. The groan slipped from my lips.
“And try not to be late. In your condition, it doesn’t do well to run just yet.”
I glanced at my professor. There was something about this man that made me hate him, actual physical hate. The kind that seeped from your pores and made you want to vomit venom all over his cheap shoes. He smirked and strolled out of the room, without a care in the world.
It took me longer than normal to get to lunch. My entire leg throbbed, and I longed for my crutches and a handful of painkillers. And a bottle of Jack. I would’ve gone back for them, but the food was closer. Seth, Barry, and Chuck sat at our usual booth when I plopped down without bothering to get food. I needed a break.
The guys weren’t alone, either. Candy sat by Barry and the blonde from the party clung to Chuck. If Dr. Monroe made me want to hurl chunks, the presence of these girls made me downright bulimic.
Seth’s face lit up. “You give new meaning to ‘let’s get stupid,’ dude.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen you get drunk like that,” Chuck added as he tugged Blondie closer. “This is Hailey, by the way.”
Hailey stuck her hand out and limply shook mine. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Barry smiled at me like he had a secret. By the way Candy was inching closer to him, I bet he did.
“Where’s your lunch?” Chuck asked.
I pulled a chair up and lifted my leg. My knee was definitely swollen. Two bowling balls swollen.
“What’d you do this time?” Seth asked. He leaned over with one eyebrow raised. “This wasn’t from last night’s…exploits, was it?”
Chuck and Barry burst into laughter. The girls stared at the four of us like we’d lost our minds.
“Had to get to class on time. It hurts like a bitch.” I tried to straighten it, but pain tugged the muscles closer to its center. “I just needed to sit down before I get a burger.”
“Gotcha covered, Betts. My treat.” Chuck turned to Hailey. “Babe, could you and Candace get a burger, fries, and a Sprite?”
“Both of us?” Candy asked with her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. We need a minute with our boy here to discuss something,” Barry answered. He reached out and touched her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I suddenly lost my appetite. Seth apparently did, too, by the way he pretended to hurl. The girls left and stood in line. Thankfully, it was a very long line.
“What happened to a Beetle in a seven-forty-seven hangar?” I asked Barry.
He shrugged as a huge grin spread across his face. “Everybody’s gotta park somewhere.”
“Man, that is just wrong.” Seth dropped his hot dog back onto his plate.
“Speaking of parking, did you find a new spot to pull into?” Chuck wiggled his eyebrows as if I didn’t get his meaning.
“You could say that, I guess.” I shifted in my seat, not really wanting to discuss this with any of them, but they knew exactly what went down.
“What do you mean you guess?” Seth asked. He took a long pull off his soda, and I could see the light ding in the attic. Now he got it. “You don’t fucking remember? Man, I knew you were drunk, but damn.”
“I can’t believe nobody’d remember bagging that fine piece of ass,” Barry added. He glanced over to check on the girls. They chatted away, oblivious to his stare.
I ran my hand over my face. “Just tell me what happened. Fill in the blanks.”
“Dude, I wasn’t there for all of it,” Seth said with a laugh. Chuck joined in. Barry shook his head and scribbled into his ever-present notebook.
If I had the energy, I would’ve hit all three of them. “You know what I mean.”
“Well, she was eyeballing you the minute we got there, but you needed some liquid courage.” Chuck slapped my shoulder. “Tequila, to be precise. She kept bringing you shots. Man, every time you downed one, you kept saying ‘Let’s get stupider.’ Seth stopped after the fifth shot, but you kept going. That waitress came over, talked you up a bit, then gave you the old ‘I get off in an hour’ line and you were all ‘Maybe we both will’.”
“Please, tell me I didn’t say that,” I groaned. Cheap lines and alcohol, I never thought I’d stoop so low.
Seth laughed. “Yeah, that I do remember.”
“Then she changed her tune. The bar was dead, so she clocked out early and said she’d take you home. That was the last we saw of you until now.” Chuck slapped my shoulder again. “You wanted to get stupid, you got stupid and laid.”
“Yeah, I’ve done worse.” Seth tapped the table. “I think.”
“Blow it off, big guy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Barry drummed his pen against the table. He dropped it and headed toward the food line.
He had a point. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I wasn’t tied down. Why not have a good time? The grin spreading over my face made them laugh.
“Guys, just tell me one thing. What in the hell was her name?” I asked, feeling foolish but desperate for the information.
Chuck and Seth stared at me as if I’d just come out of the closet. Then they broke into laughter loud enough that several of the tables around us stopped to enjoy the show. I joined in, a little self-conscious, but I couldn’t stop myself. It didn’t take me long before I felt like a complete ass. Over Seth’s shoulder, I spied Mallory sitting at her usual table. Instead of reading, her eyes were focused on us.
“You’re too much, Betts.” Seth stood and stretched his arms over his head. A girl walked by, distracting him faster than a squirrel distracts a dog. He took off after her without another word.
“What, or rather who, are you staring at, young whippersnapper?” Chuck asked in his terrible fake accent that sounded like absolutely nothing on this planet. Of course, he thought he was impersonating Jimmy Stewart, although it was highly unlikely he’d ever seen one of Stewart’s movies.
Chuck leaned closer, stinking of sweat and cheap cologne, and peered over the back of the booth. Mallory’s eyes widened, and she dropped her head back into her book.
“Ah,” he whispered. “She’s the reason you feel guilty. She’s cute. Not your usual type, but cute.” He moved back into his own space and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.
“What’s my usual type, Freud?” I wasn’t about to tell him he was wrong.
Chuck shrugged as Hailey bent over him, shoving a tray of food in front of me. The smell of greasy cheeseburger wafted up to my nose, rumbling my stomach in both good and bad ways. I sipped the Sprite and waited for Chuck to answer my question. I knew he would in a matter of time. Normally when I least expected it.
“Hot and innocent,” Chuck said as soon as I stuck the burger in my mouth. I almost choked on the damned thing. He might have planned for that. “Not cute and hiding from the world.”
As soon as I swallowed, I asked, “What’re you talking about?”
Hailey stared at us in rapt attention. Barry and Candy were oblivious in their own little touchy-feely world across the table. I wanted to tell them to get a room, but they’d probably take me up on that. Or ask for the key to my dorm.
“Look, Trish had this whole sweet angel thing going on, which was totally fake, but you fell for it. And she’s got a smoking bod with a rack that could feed a starving nation. That girl over there is cute in a girl-next-door way, not a bang-your-neighbor way. Besides, just look at her. There’s no reason for her to sit alone unless she wants to be alone. She’s hiding something, man.” He glanced over Barry’s shoulder again. “And she’s not going to let you in on it easily.”
“Wow,” Hailey said in complete awe of Chuck’s insight. She stared at him with idol worship in her eyes.
“Bullshit. She’s seeing some dickhead with a faux hawk.” I, on the other hand, was used to Chuck’s insight. There was a reason Chuck was majoring in psychology. “What else you got?”
“Faux hawk?” When I nodded, he glanced at her again. “Hmm, that might put a damper on things but, considering she’s checked you out a few times, I’d say patience is your best friend.”
Nodding, I finished my burger, occasionally checking to see if Mallory was looking my way. I never caught her. Maybe Chuck was giving me false hope. He was good at that, too. Last season during a slump, he’d convinced me that my swing was back before a game. That was the night I hit for the cycle. I’d only realized what he’d done after the fact.
If patience was my friend, confusion was my lover. Me and Mallory? I barely knew her. And she didn’t even want to get to know me. It didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense.
But what did make sense these days?
Barry took me to therapy that afternoon. He decided to hang around and see if Angela would let him observe. Like me, Barry was a junior. Unlike me, Barry didn’t have a clue what he was going to be when he grew up. He’d been contemplating physical therapy since last spring when his mom got into a car accident. She was fine, but her arm was broken in two places and she needed therapy. Barry went with her over the summer and thought that he might have found his career.
“What in the world did you do?” Angela asked as she examined my swollen knee.
My face burned with embarrassment. “Unintentionally jogged.” Possibly hurt it during a one-night stand. Oh, and I hit it with a door.
“Yeah, to beat his prof to class,” Barry added. I would’ve smacked him if he was closer.
Angela shook her head and spent the next five minutes chiding me for my stupid behavior. Once she ran out of words, she let her job punish me. Hell, she even let Barry observe my torture. He was over the moon.
“Aaron, I have to tell you this isn’t good.” Angela tossed a towel over her shoulder. She put her hand on my arm, stopping me in the middle of the room. Barry headed toward the water fountain near the exit. “I’m going to recommend you lay off physical therapy for a week and rest. If the swelling doesn’t go down by tomorrow, schedule an appointment with Dr. Cooper. He may need to drain it again.”
I nodded, thankful Barry didn’t hear any of that.
“If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll regret it later.”
Dad’s limp popped into my mind. He didn’t get it unless it was cold or wet, then his leg showed its age. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Modern medicine made it possible for a better recovery.
“She’s hot,” Barry said once we were safely in his car.
“What about Candy?” I settled into the torn bucket seat, trying not to think about Angela’s warning. The problem was the season. I’d have no choice but to redshirt. That wasn’t an option. Too long of a recovery could be seen as “injury prone” to scouts, even if this was my first real injury.
He ignored my question. “I’m going for it, man. That was amazing. Everything she mentioned about muscle atrophy and flexibility… She totally blew me away. When’s the next appointment?”
I stifled the yawn. “Should be the same time next Friday.” If I wasn’t taking a week off. Or more.
“Shit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “I’ve got a lab. Maybe next time after that. Am I taking you back to the dorm?”
“Library. I’ve got…a study group.” I stared out the window, wishing the constant throbbing would go away sooner rather than later. All I really wanted to do was go back to my room and fall into unconsciousness from pain meds.
“That sucks,” Barry said.
Not really, I thought as he turned up the radio, putting an end to any conversation and any chance of a fifteen-minute nap for me. Not that I’d be able to sleep without the drugs anyway. Maybe there was a safe, non-med way to get better. Seth had done it. He’d recovered from a torn rotator cuff faster than anticipated. Maybe he knew something.
A smile crept over my face as I turned my thoughts toward spending the next hour with Mallory Fine. No, tutoring didn’t suck at all.