18

Piper

The Lanky Boy In The Kitchen

For a moment, Adam didn't say anything. The cocky layer to his words was gone, and without it, he was a little more hesitant. A little more cautious.

"I think…Coach Lawson is going to ask me about you," he said softly.

Oh. Of course.

The more he knew about me, the more he could prove to his coach that the program was going swimmingly. It made sense. I guess I just hadn't thought about it like that.

"My school's paid for, even when I transferred." I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked around to the front of the desk, thinking about my phone, which was mercifully turned off in my back pocket. "My scholarships always cover everything. But…I never had the whole college experience. The actual college experience." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't know if you know but Thomas and I…we were together in high school…"

"I know that."

The past memories, threatening to bubble up, stopped in their tracks. "I thought you said you didn't know we were together?"

"Sorry." He flashed me an apologetic smile. "I mean—we met at a high school party. So I put two and two together."

"You and…Thomas?"

"You and I."

The soft way he said ‘you and I' made butterflies flutter in my stomach, but I didn't understand what he was talking about. I didn't meet Adam Russell before college.

"Adam, I met you…um…" I wracked my brain, trying to think of the earliest memory of Adam. "I met you at the KYU pool party. The one where you lost your shorts on the waterslide."

I thought he would have laughed, but he pushed past it. "No, Piper. We didn't meet there."

"Yes, we did?"

"I met you at a high school party when we were sophomores." His voice lowered. "It was at Sullender's parents' house. There was a cotton candy machine outside that you tried to fix, but it kept smoking." He paused. "You were wearing this pink dress with a big skirt and these heels you must've just been breaking in. You kept wobbling in the kitchen. I tried to convince you to trade shoes with me, and you told me next time you'd consider it."

What?

My mouth fell open. I was stunned into silence.

He's right.

The pink dress my aunt bought me from a vintage marketplace, the cotton candy machine that we tossed out a few weeks later, and those heels—I hated those heels. And those parties—good god. They were so much work, just for me to fade into the background when Thomas took center stage.

I'd wanted to sit down for a second with how much those heels hurt, but that was only part of the reason why I hurried to the kitchen. The anxiety crept up on me from all those people filling up the house.

And then there was…Adam.

The lanky boy in the kitchen. The red tint in his hair. The lopsided grin on his face. His jeans, a little too short on his legs from how fast he must've been growing. There was a crack in his voice, asking if I wanted to trade shoes when I kicked mine off.

The way he got down on his knees to slip my heels back on when I'd groaned about it…I could see it all.

I blinked. "I…forgot about that."

His eyes didn't leave mine. "I didn't."

For the last couple of days, I'd been so incredibly irritated about how Adam tossed back things he didn't care about. Nothing was important to him. He could breeze past all of it, just like he breezed through his football career and his sponsorships and his hookup record. Not caring what happened or who he hurt along the way.

All of that was true. Yet, I couldn't mix that idea of Adam with an Adam who remembered all those little details about when we first met. It didn't make any sense.

A flush crept up my neck and I hurried back behind the desk, pretending to be busy. "Well, anyway—um—Thomas and I were together for a long time. And when the…" I winced. "When the bleacher bunny picture came out—and all the stories—I didn't realize how much of my…life…was tied to…him and…"

"Everybody left you."

When I finally met his eyes again, they blazed. His shoulders were stiff. His whole body tensed.

I swallowed. "Um…yeah. Something like that."

For long moments, neither of us said anything. I didn't know what to say. My words were spent, finished, I explained what happened, and nothing good would come out of dwelling on the hurt feelings. But Adam seemed to be wrestling with something.

"Piper…"

A sharp knock echoed on the door and a guy with a blue baseball hat poked his head in. "Uh—is this the sex class?"

I jumped so fast, I knocked my highlighters to the ground. They scattered everywhere. Some went under the desk, some went under the chairs, one of them ricocheted off to the table in the corner, and I hurried to grab them all, just to find Adam in front of me, with half already in his hand.

"Yes!" I hurried to say. "I mean—no—this is the sexual education course and how to broach the topic with your residents."

"Uh…okay, it just says sex class on the form."

I gave the door a long look. "Oh. They must've cut off the title. Um…"

"It's going to be fine," Adam reminded me, placing the highlighters on the desk. "Yeah, it's the sex ed class. File in and get a seat and don't make a fucking sound."

" Adam ."

"Sorry. Shut up. Is that better?"

I watched in dismay as Adam took a seat in the third row.

He's staying for the presentation?

Why?