13. Nora/Wes

THIRTEEN

Running awayfrom my problems isn't new. In fact, I think I've been doing it since I was a kid. I remember getting my first report card, and my initial instinct wasn't to go home and pin it on the fridge. No, it was to run into the backyard and try to bury it. Connor caught me, and because he's a narc, he told Mom and Dad, and they never trusted me to bring my report cards home again. I thought I grew out of it, but apparently not.

Running away from Wes-related problems is… new.

After the first time I kissed him, I did the same thing. I ran straight back to my dorm, only for him to follow me and drop the bombshell that Connor was dating my best friend.

The kisses on the neck? Hot, but it's fine. I can deal with those. Hugs and a little bit of close contact? Also, fine. But full-on making out in a hallway? Nope. Can't do it.

He kisses me like a man starved. He doesn't kiss me like Ryan did, always with one foot out of the door. He gave me everything. It felt alive, electric, timeless. It's like he breathed life into me just for it to rush back out when we pulled apart, reminding me that this isn't real.

Truth is, I've only kissed three people in my life. Two of those being people I ended up in long-ish-term relationships with and the other being Wes. So, if my track record is anything to go by, kissing someone and being intimate is not exactly something I can do casually, even if it's fake. My feelings are bound to get mixed up in the attraction, and I'll form a semi-obsession with Wes if we keep going down this road. My brain is annoying enough to do that to me.

Every couple in Drayton Hills is constantly all over each other, making out in hallways and dry-humping in classrooms. No one would believe us if we didn't throw in a few kisses and ass grabs.

I've got to learn somehow how to turn that part of my brain off. Not every interaction has to turn into a blockbuster or a Hallmark movie. Maybe I'm just wired that way, and I'm always going to crave that sort of commitment. It's much better than dealing with the fear of being alone. My mind is a terrifying place to be stuck in, and I'd rather be distracted with sweet words and orgasms.

What scares me most about Wes is that if he spends more time with me than we already do and peels back layers of me that he's never seen, he might not want me anymore. In any way. He might think I'm completely insane, and he'll leave. I don't think I can handle him leaving, and the only way I might be able to control my feelings is if I don't linger around him after we make out.

The only logical thing to do was run. Now, it feels like a stupid decision because I'm in the bleachers of a very loud and chaotic football game, watching Wes move around the field like a machine.

Coming to watch football games has been one of my favorite things about starting college. The atmosphere is otherworldly. People are constantly screaming and chanting, booing the opposing team, and yelling at the top of their lungs insults to the referees. Only me and Cat are watching today as Elle had a late dance practice, and we are trying our hardest to enjoy ourselves.

There's only one problem.

The Titans are playing terribly.

I have never seen them play so poorly. My brother is shouting louder than I've heard him in years, and everyone is getting sick of them getting their ass beat. We usually try our hardest in the crowds to encourage them, but there's something deeper that a few chants can't help with. We're on home turf; the entire stadium is filled with support, and yet they can't seem to get it together.

Cat said something about them having a few players leave and switch to other colleges, so their spots have been filled, but not to the same standard. She said Connor hasn't been able to stop talking about it and how badly the team is merging together. This isn't something new that happens in sports teams. Players get traded all the time, but for the Titans, they're getting run into the ground with the team from Greenwich. This is the same team they usually beat every season or during friendly games they do during the summer. They're not going easy on the Titans, and I actually feel bad for them.

"This is painfully hard to watch," I mutter, shoving my face into my hands as I check the clock on the huge screen. There's only ten minutes left until the game is over, and I've had enough of screaming at them. Clearly, all I'm going to get out of this is an even raspier voice and a headache.

"Tell me about it," Cat murmurs. I bite the inside of my cheek as I take in her furious expression. It's funny seeing her turn into a football fan in the last few months. Before having to work with the team for the newspaper she was writing, she never cared much for it. I'd always suggest for her to come along to games with me, but she'd say no. Now, she's almost at my level of crazy. "I still don't know what's going on, and I'm pissed. How is this even legal?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," I say as sweetly as I can. I look at the scoreboard, and it"s 17-30 to the other team. I grimace.

It doesn't even have to look bad because, from our seats, we can hear Coach Mackenzie scolding the players beneath us. Connor has said he's been on everyone"s ass this season, and I don't blame him. A lot of the boys take this seriously, but due to the influx of new players who are mostly freshmen, the playing field for those who want to do well and those who don't care is very uneven.

Apparently, the only one who actually cares is Hayes Cohen. His dad is Michael Cohen, Drayton Alumni and current assistant coach for the Colorado Buffaloes. Despite the scandal he was involved in two years ago, he's a God to many of the football players, and now that his son is on the team, everyone expected an easy victory, but we're already getting our asses handed to us.

Listening to Coach Mackenzie talk to Wes in the way he is now makes my heart ache for him. I understand that his dad can't go easy on him, so he's playing fair, but he only reserves a bite in his tone for Wes. I've not been able to look at him the same since I found out what he did. Nolan and May Mackenzie have been like a second set of parents to me since I was born, but I've never felt more disconnected from them than I do now.

And there's only one person to blame for that.

My head is thumping. My ears are ringing. My pulse is hammering against my neck and on my wrist. It feels like my chest is caving in on itself, and at any given moment, I'm going to stop breathing.

Since the second I got on that field, my dad has been using me like his punching bag. For one of the first times, I actually wanted to play well. I know how bad we've been in training sessions, and I want us to win this season, no matter how out of reach it feels right now. But as soon as my dad started to get pissy with my defense tactics – the ones he's instilled in me since I could walk – I was ready to throw it out of the window. He made me sub over five times just within the first half and only let me back on the field for five minutes of the second half.

I'm agitated and pissed, and the last thing I want to do is to be stuck in here with the team as everyone complains about how poorly we played. Coach hasn't been into the locker room yet, and I'm about to get showered and out of here as fast as humanly possible.

Connor sits beside me on the bench when the team rushes in after I've showered and gotten ready. He's finishing up the pep talk that he loves to give after a game. We need one of his famous speeches now more than ever. Although most of what he says is negative, I know we have to take it with a grain of salt. Connor's the best leader our team could have, and I hope to God he isn't doing that pathetic thing where he thinks that everything is his fault.

Knowing I won't be able to let it go, I knock my knee against his. "You did good out there."

He sighs, tilting his head back. "Could've done better."

I shrug. "Nah, you were fine. It's the rest of the team. They're not taking it seriously."

Connor hums. "Yeah, you're right," he says. He shakes his head before adding, "About them not taking it seriously, I mean. I wasn't fine. I was less than my best, and it shouldn't piss me off as much as it does, but it's true."

Connor worked hard on letting go of the team and being able to let us do our best without the pressure of the world on his back. He's constantly trying to make sure we're always incredible, but that's impossible. We're going to have days like today, games like today, and sometimes there's nothing we can do about it other than train harder and listen to whatever Connor or my dad has to say.

I take in a deep breath, changing the subject. "Do you want to grab some food after this?"

"Can't," he says simply, which is code for I'm going to work out my frustration by fucking my girlfriend into oblivion where the whole house can hear.

I'm honestly sick of those two. If I'm not getting any action, why should they? I'm also sick of Cat trying to sneak out in the morning like I didn't know she was there. I think they're still caught up in the fact that they had to hide their relationship. She's over at our place nearly every night, and I have no idea when Connor is going to pop the question and ask her to move in.

"Ah, it's cool. I'll see if anyone else is free," I say awkwardly. I sound desperate. This guy is my best friend. Of course, I'd rather him hang out with me than his girlfriend.

He pushes himself up, grabbing his duffel bag from the space next to him, but he turns back around and frowns at me. He rolls his eyes before pointing a finger in my face like I've done something wrong. "You've reminded me."

"Of what?" I ask.

"My parents invited your parents to ours for Thanksgiving if you want to come. I know things are hard, but I don't think they know yet, and I haven't told them," he explains. "Now that you and Nora are… together, they want you around more. So, if you want to swing by with just your mom, feel free. Just let me know if you want me to make up an excuse for why Coach can't go."

Thanksgiving with the Baileys is magical. Their life is like a fairy tale come true, and holidays are no different. Their lodge in Aspen is filled with the childlike adventure that I've always loved. It's tucked between huge forests, winding roads, and mountains, and it feels like somewhere you can escape. I could really use some of that right now, but I can't.

It's always the time of year when all of our families can get together without any stress. Christmas usually makes everyone freak out, and we'd rather spend it with our biological families, but Thanksgiving is always special. It was always special. Now it's just going to be another day trying to talk my mom out of her mind and encourage her to leave the house while my dad does fuck knows what across town. I know my mom wouldn't want to be around people and couples in love, so I plan to spend the day with her instead.

"What reminded you of that?" is what I ask. "The fact that you're blowing me off to hang out with your girl?"

His eyes narrow. "No, Wes, it was the sad look on your face. You look like a puppy who hasn"t been adopted at the pound."

I don't know why his words sting, but they do. I don't want his pity. I don't want to look like a lost puppy. I want to be Wes Mackenzie, the funny friend with the jokes, smiles, and an endless line of girls. I don't want to be the one who is always on edge and stressed over things that never seemed to matter before, like my career and my future and all that bullshit.

I settle for a joke instead of my actual thoughts. "Oh, shut up. Girls love it when a guy is miserable," I say, chuckling weakly.

Connor shakes his head. "Yeah, usually when they are the ones making a guy miserable." Then he looks at me and reminds me of the answer to all of my problems. "Besides, Wesley, you've got a girlfriend now, remember?"

The second the words leave his mouth, the rest of the team swarm around me like I'm a piece of live bait. Connor blows me a kiss as he walks out, knowing the guys are going to torture me on every detail about my and Nora's relationship.

Luckily for them, I could talk about her for hours.