Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Windy

Deke

Where are you?

Deke

You were supposed to wait for me outside the stadium after soccer practice until I was done reviewing video with my D-line.

Deke

Little girl, ignoring me is a bad idea.

He doesn't even have to be here for me to see the angry frown line I know is pinching his eyebrows together. I'm glad he's not here. That's a lie. I wish more than anything he was right here in my dorm with me while I stare at this stupid statistics textbook. But if he was here, there's no way I'd be able to do what has to be done.

I've wracked my brain all day and the only thing I can come up with is to stall until I can come up with a better idea. There's got to be a way I can keep Director Franklin from ruining Deke without me actually taking the Met-88 like he wants me to. At this point, the best plan I've got is to meet with Director Franklin and tell him I'll do it. Then I'll stay far, far away from Deke so any rumors that might start about the two of us don't have anything to back them up.

If I'm lucky, I can pretend to be on the Met-88 until the end of the season. Then Director Franklin won't care about me anymore and I'll only have to avoid Deke for a few months until I graduate.

Anxiety twists my tummy into a knot, and I push the textbook away to lay my head on my desk. If I bang it against the particleboard top a few times… Well, I'll be pretending it was an accident. Today is exactly why I hate being a grown-up.

Junk like this doesn't happen to little kids. Parents make the decisions, the kid just has to listen to what they're told. No need to second-guess or get sucked into the quicksand of moral quandary. Just do what the adult says, and everything works out fine. Or at least, if it doesn't, then the grown-up is to blame.

So, See? It just makes sense that I need an adultier adult to tell me what to do. If only there was a handy-dandy Daddy around who could tell me what to do. Oh, but there's not. Why? Because less than a day after I find out that Daddies are even a thing and that I might have one, I have to run away from him so he doesn't lose everything.

A bang on the door to my room startles me so much I fall out of my chair and land on the floor with a bruising thump to my backside. Dorms don't have peepholes, so there's no way I'm going to open it up and see who is slamming their fist against the heavy wood. Panic churns in my guts until I spot my cellphone on the floor next to me. My fingers are shaking when I thumb open the text app.

Taryn

Somebody's banging on my door! Are you in your room?

Taryn's dorm is down the hall on the other side from mine. We roomed together for a few years. But considering my style is pretty much if chaos was a tangible thing and hers is unexpectedly very tidy, single rooms have been better for our friendship.

Taryn

Shit! Don't open it! Sending Bhodi down the hall now!

Even though my heart still feels like it weighs a billion pounds of sadness, I'm super glad now that I met Daddy… I mean Deke, when I did. He was so mad at me for not locking my door I'll never forget to do it again. If it wasn't for him, whoever's at the door would already be in the room. I can see the handle jiggling like it does when someone's trying to open it. For a second, I think about calling campus police, but then I hear the deep voice of Taryn's new boyfriend outside the door.

I push my ear against the wood as hard as I can to try to hear what's being said. I'm pretty sure I hear Bhodi say the word ‘coach' and it dawns on me the other man in the hallway is probably Deke. I want to call out and ask, but the lump in my throat is too big to even swallow around. My phone buzzes in my hand and I realize the voices in the hallway are gone.

Deke

Good girl for locking your door, but next time, when I knock, answer it. We need to talk. Name a place and time and I will meet you there.

I can't. This was a mistake.

The phone rings. I ignore it. I can't talk to him. One word and I'll cave. Tears flow unchecked as I fling myself onto the bed and cry for what could have been. What I wanted to be. The loss.

Doing the right thing is hard. Being a grown-up sucks. Zero out of ten. Do not recommend. By the time sleep claims me, I think I've cried enough tears to be as dried up as a cornhusk left in the late fall sun too long.