3. FIELD

FIELD

M om was sitting at the table when I got home from school, her eyes dragging across whatever she was reading. I snuck through the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, dropping my book bag on the floor and curling into bed.

I had been uncomfortable since that morning, and despite doing my usual routine of class, volunteering in the office and library for an hour after lunch and again after school… I just couldn’t shake the conversation I had overheard.

It wasn’t my first time in that kind of position. Most people didn’t notice when I was around, and it constantly put me in situations where I was left to overhear arguments and conversations I shouldn’t, exactly like the one-sided argument between Ryan and his father. The pit in my stomach wouldn’t let me forget the sound of Ryan’s head hitting metal, no matter how hard I tried.

I wondered how many people knew about how his father treated him. It couldn’t have been many if any at all. The way he had instantly tried to protect his father from criticism suggested he was emotionally carrying the blame for the abuse. A strained, guilty feeling overtook me when my thoughts wandered to what it was like having parents that hit you, and maybe it would be better than having ones that just ignored you.

At least they cared enough to be angry.

But that wasn’t right. I was just mad at my situation and did not consider how horrible Ryan's experience was. Science suggests that stars form from a collection of gas and dust, which collapses due to gravity and starts to form stars. If Ryan were a star, the school, the teachers, the coaches, and his father would seemingly be at that gravity.

It was a lot of pressure to put on a seventeen-year-old.

The more I considered the situation, the more I was glad that my mother barely saw me. I kept my head down and worked hard, and one day, I’d be able to leave this town behind and make a life for myself that felt full. But not before my foolish teenage hormones overpowered every logical thought in my brain about a boy.

I rationalized each intrusive thought of Ryan Cody that brought a foolish smile to my lips or stirred around the butterflies in my stomach. He had seen me twice when I thought I was hidden from the world, and it was doing something to my brain and heart that I wasn’t familiar with.

I chewed on my lip and slipped back out of bed, digging through my yearbooks until I found the one from the year before. I sank to the floor and flipped it open, finding his face quickly. His stupid dirty blonde hair was shorter than its current length, but his green eyes were as flirty and judgmental as ever. The air caught in my lungs, imagining the golden flecks that danced in the shades of green. High cheekbones, perfect cupid bow lips that curled into a devilish smirk that knotted in the pit of my stomach.

He had smiled at me like that today, turning my coherent thoughts into ribbons.

I liked being ignored because it saved me from ridicule. It was hard enough being the mayor's daughter without the attention of the High school star baseball player. I flipped through the book and found the team photo, finding him almost instantly in the front row. His shoulders were pinned back, and that same stupid smile on his face.

I slammed the book closed and tossed it back in the box.

He was just some dumb boy with a pretty smile. It meant nothing.

“Lorraine.” A knock at the door made me jump.

I opened the door to my mother, her face stern and void of the normal olive tone she tans it to.

“There’s a young man on our step,” she said, and my brows furrowed.

“A boy?” I questioned.

“Yes, he claims he’s here for tutoring,” she explained, and I had only more questions.

“I’ll be right down,” I said.

“Lorraine,” she used a tone that meant to pay attention . “You know the rules.”

“No one in the house without an appointment,” I groaned. This was a rule for my father, not for me, but somehow, I was always held to the same standards.

It’s why I stopped trying to make friends. No one wanted to befriend the Mayor’s daughter when they had to schedule a drop-in. When she disappeared from the hallway, I turned back to the mirror, unable to do anything about my mousy brown hair and exhausted-looking eyes. I chewed on my lip and took a deep breath.

It was unusual for anyone to show up on our doorstep, let alone a boy and one who was willing to lie to my mother’s terrifyingly stern face. I took the back stairs and leaned around the banister blocking the front foray hallway. He couldn’t see me, but Ryan Cody was in perfect view from my position. All six feet of him, with shaggy, wavy blonde hair. Those chunky bangs brushed against his temples as his green eyes surveyed his surroundings. His bookbag was over his shoulder, and his hands were in the pockets of his jeans as he waited.

“Send him away,” I whispered to my mother as she rounded the corner adjacent to the kitchen.

“No,” my mother shook her head. “That’s not polite. Deal with your guest. You have homework to do.”

Right. My mother wasn’t a cold woman, but she was unbothered and uninterested in every facet of life that didn’t contribute to our wealth or standing in the town. She had zero patience for disobedience and even less for strange men showing up on our doorstep. She’d feed me to the wolves if it meant protecting her sanity and reputation.

I straightened out, standing tall, and walked to the front door, grabbing the handle in passing to close it quickly and quietly. Ryan backed away as I approached like I might mean him harm and stopped about a foot from the stairs that led down the porch.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him through gritted teeth as I fought against the urge to tell him to go away. Again .

“Came to see the love of my life,” He cooed, reminding me that I needed to scold him for doing so when my heart stopped racing at the sound of his voice.

“No one told you?” He looked around, huffing something under his breath before turning back to me. “Mrs. Raymond offered you up to tutor me in English. Apparently.” He smiled, and the urge to shoo him away dulled more. “...You’re the smartest girl in our class.”

“And you’re all bark,” I countered. It was shaky and lacked confidence, but pushing him down a peg felt good.

“She does have a voice,” he smiled brighter. “Alright, Mouse,” he laughed. “It’s true, though…look.” I watched as he dug something out of an ivory school brand folder and handed it to me. It was a school-issued letter with the Longhorn logo and everything. Mrs. Raymond had even signed it.

“Told you.” He winked at me.

“No.” I handed the letter back to him. “I don’t have the time.”

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I know you have the time.” He leaned back against the large white pillar. “Landry told me as much.”

“Markus Landry is an idiot,” I said, “just like every person that enters his house.”

“Including me?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Especially you.”

“Ouch, Mouse.” He clutched his chest in his hand and pouted, “That was mean.”

“Please stop calling me that,” I asked him nicely. “I’m too busy to tutor you, but I’ll talk to Mrs. Raymond in the morning and find someone else capable. I’m sure Carlos can help.”

“Cooky Carlos?” Ryan shook his head. “That kid smells like cheese.”

“And you’re failing English, so I’m sure you’ll be able to get past that. He’s smart.” I turned to go back into the house, but Ryan didn’t move from the step.

“But not as smart as you,” he added as I twisted the door knob.

“No.”

“Then I want you,” he said, and I turned to look at him.

“No,” I repeated myself.

“Why not?” He whined, and the sound broke a wall down.

“Because you’re cocky, rude, pushy, and frankly, I don’t think you’d take it seriously, and it’s not worth my time. Which, by the way, I don’t have a lot of despite Mr. Landry’s assumptions.”

His green eyes took in my every word, never blinking or faltering as he watched me speak. His lips pressed together softly, and for a second, I thought maybe I had finally rendered him speechless.

But I had never been so wrong.

“So, would you like to do it here or at the library?” He asked.

I glared over my shoulder at him, ice in my veins that only fueled my annoyance.

“If we study in the library, everyone will see you getting tutored by the Mayor’s daughter,” I said.

He shrugged, “it’s about time you got some attention.”

“This isn’t a joke,” I warned him.

“That’s the second time someone has said that to me today when I wasn’t making a joke. I’m starting to think I’m not delivering these lines properly.” He clicked his teeth together. “Listen, Mouse.”

“Lorraine,” I corrected him.

“Rae,” he smiled.

“Lorraine,” I groaned.

He nodded and stepped forward. He was so close I could smell the cologne he had sprayed on this morning, tangling with the sweat beneath his hoodie. “I’m taking this seriously. My career is on the line. If I don’t figure out these papers and do it in the next two weeks. I’m benched for good. The game in Perrin is three weeks away. All the scouts will be there. I have to play in that game, Rae. If I don’t, I’m stuck in this godforsaken town forever, and that can’t happen.”

I stared at him for a long moment, considering my options. I weighed my decision based on his words and his current position. He almost looked smaller as he spoke, pleading with me.

“I need your help,” he said. “Please.”

I’m stuck in this godforsaken town forever, and that can’t happen.

I could hear the boy from this morning. The one that would say just about anything to his father to stop the public display of abuse. We both needed out for entirely different but very valid reasons.

“You meet me in the library every day at four,” I said, and he smiled brighter than any star in the sky. “If you’re even a second late, I’m done.”

“Library, four o’clock.” He repeated back to me with a few quick, nervous nods before he found his footing again. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You need to pass that class,” I warned him.

“You need to have more faith in yourself, Rae.”

I scowled, wanting to correct him again but slightly enjoying the elated feeling that purred in my chest when he called me that.

“Go away now,” I said when he didn’t leave my step.

“Alright.” He put his hands up in mock surrender and stepped off the step. “I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t be late.” His smirk was lopsided and hungry for attention.

“Get off my property, Mr. Cody,” I narrowed my eyes at his joke and shook my head.

“Mr. Cody is my dad. You have to call me Ryan.” He called from the driveway.

“In your dreams.”

“You’re right.” His green eyes flickered with amusement as he nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

His causal nature clashed with my anxious demeanor. I stepped back into the house, closing the door behind me and resting my back against it as I caught my breath. A genuine smile formed as I thought about what he said, dreaming about me: no one had ever made me so flustered while simultaneously making me so frustrated.

I looked through the small window pane that framed the doorway and caught the last view of him before he turned the corner away from the gated community.

I’ll see you there.