Carpe Diem - Jesse 3 (17 page)

Ice sat on the couch, but I was too hyped up to sit. When Santini saw the look on Coach’s face, he complied and slid into the long seat opposite Coach at the table.

Coach pushed his plate to the side and cleared the space on the table between himself and Santini. Then he looked up at me and said, “Well?” and waived his hand with an open palm.

The whole time we were waiting for Santini to get here, Coach was eyeing the laptop Ice held. He probably figured we had something on it to show him. But when I threw the photographs on the table, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. I threw them so hard one of them bounced off Santini’s chest, then landed askew. Coach rotated his head to get a better look and held the pictures held loosely between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it and his head at the same time, until it was aligned directly in front of him.

“So why don’t you tell Coach exactly what you did? Or do you want me to?”

With a smug smile he folded his arms across his chest and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?’ Like this was some kind of a joke.

I was steaming mad. The blood was boiling in my veins and it was all I could do to keep from punching him out, right on the spot. I had to restrain myself in front of Coach but later, if given the chance, I was going to fuck him up bad.

Keeping my voice calm and my temper cool I said, “I can’t believe you’re even trying to lie your way out of this. We know about Paolo.”

Coach’s eyes hadn’t strayed from the photos until Ice shoved Santini’s laptop on the table on top of them. Ice said, “We know all about your cousin in Brazil, your Photoshop expert. Well, you might think he’s an expert but according to a real photographer, these are shitty.”

I crossed my arms across my chest and planted my feet apart in a wide stance. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Santini, it was a brilliant plan. It almost worked.”

Coach’s face was stern the entire time. He was quiet, but watched Santini’s reactions, searching for the truth in all of these accusations.

Santini said nothing. His jaw twitched and he swallowed hard as he stared at the laptop in front of him. Coach took Santini’s actions as a soundless incrimination. This seemed to infuriate Coach and his voice came out like a rumble of angry thunder. “Santini! Is this God damn true?”

Still Santini was speechless. I snorted and tossed my head back in disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Not much to say.”

Coach’s face turned purple-red and there were veins popping out of his forehead like fireworks on the Fourth of July. He rose to his feet from behind the little kitchen table and he roared at Santini. “Pack you shit, Santini, and get the hell out. And consider yourself lucky that Jesse’s not pressing charges.”

Santini bolted for the door, shoving his way between me and Ice. As he pushed past me, I was overwhelmed with the urge to throw him to the ground and beat him into a bloody pulp. And I almost did it. He was so close. I had him by the arm, and I was ready to go through with it but, at the last second, I let him go. He stumbled, twisted away, and wrested himself free, then fell out the door of the RV and hit the ground running.

Anger tore at my stomach, burning holes into the lining, or so I thought, since it felt like someone had covered it with acid. I wanted to scream at Santini, curse him for what he did to me and Niki, but he was gone. It was over. Now I knew the answer to who did this to me, but I didn’t feel any better; without Niki, my life was still one big pile of shit. How was I supposed to heal my broken heart when it felt like my world was falling apart?

With his hand on my arm, Ice held me back and said, “Let him go, Jesse. It’s over.”

Ice was right. There was nothing I could do now except go home to New York, lick my wounds and try to start over again. I turned back to Coach with a last ditch effort and asked sheepishly, “Coach, seems you’re a man short on the team.”

Although he looked tired, he smiled as he rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his hand across his forehead, letting his fingers stop at his temple. “Yes, Jesse. It appears we are.”

“So what do you think? Can I be back on the team?”

“Yeah, I think we can make that happen. Since the charges against you were dropped... I guess you’re back in.”

“Thanks, Coach.” I tipped my head back, as if thanking the gods in the sky. At least I had the job I loved back.

Ice shook my hand with a firm grip and said, “I think the team is going to be ten times stronger, now. Let’s nail this.”

“Thanks, Ice. You’re a good guy. This whole time I’d misjudged you and I’m sorry for that.”

Coach was beaming, a big grin on his face. He joined in the spirit of things and said, “Well, it’s about time we get some freaking team spirit in this camp.”

Ice gave me a genuinely warm smile for the first time since I came to the Milan training camp. Hopefully now Ice and I can pull together and take our team to the top.

Coach glanced over at us and in a jovial voice said, “What the hell are you standing around here for? You have some training to do. Now, get the hell out of here.”

We both headed for the door when Coach called after me, “Jesse, hold up a minute.” I took my hand off of the door knob and stepped back inside the small living room area.

He hemmed and hawed for a while and then said, “I don’t know mean to stick my big nose where it don’t belong, but I guess Niki went home.” He tipped his head and peered at me from under his lashes.

“Yeah, it looks that way. She still won’t answer my calls, either.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t blame her. It’s really my fault.”

“Well, give her time. She’s probably still on the plane — no phones and all. Have you tried calling her friend, what’s her name? Kat?”

“Um, no. I’ve been kind of busy... well, busy having a pity party is more like it, if you know what I mean.”

“Sure, Jesse. I know. I’m not that old.” He touched his fingers to the hair at his temples and smoothed it back. “No gray hairs yet.” He laughed and I gave him a weak smile.

“I remember young love. I had a girl once, a special girl. We met one summer in my hometown, after high school graduation. We hung out at the lake in the evenings, listening to music on the car radio in my Camero, drinking beers I snuck from my dad’s man-cave fridge in the garage. We went everywhere together, did everything together... so in love, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Then, one day, she left.” He paused and shook his head slowly, gazing at the floor like a distant memory had drifted across his mind. “I never thought I would lose her, never planned on that.”

“Why’d she leave?”

He shrugged. “We had a fight. Over something stupid, I don’t even remember now what it was we argued about. But I learned the hard way, Jesse. I never went after her. I should have run after her, but instead I let my male ego get in the way. If I could go back in time, live my life over, I would do things differently. I would buy her flowers, tell her I was to blame and beg her to stay. Instead, I have to sit here and tell you this story of an amazing girl— the one who got away. Take it from me, Jess, don’t make the same mistake I did. Go after Niki and win her back.”

“But what about training? There’s still a week of work and I need...”

“Don’t worry about one week. Just go back and get your girl. You’ll kick yourself if you don’t.”

“Coach, I don’t know what to say. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You wait and see. I’ll put in extra training sessions. I know of a place...”

“Slow down, slow down. Focus on one thing at a time. Just go back and get your girl.” I left him chuckling and rubbing his forehead again as I went flying out of the rattling RV door.

Niki

T
he best thing to do was work. And work I did. I threw myself into my class projects and sought to occupy every second of my time, so my mind wouldn’t wander back to thoughts of missing Jesse. Despite the fact that he blew up on my boss, Gio, and got arrested in a foreign country, I still missed him.

My eyes were dry and I was tired of moping. I had cried every last tear I could squeeze out of them in the days after I had returned from Italy. Returned without Jesse. Returned like a dog with its tail between its legs to all the “I told you sos” of my critical father. I hated it. And I hated him for being right about Jesse. He said it would never work between us. What did I know? I was young and stupid. I wanted my dad to be wrong but he’d been right. I was a mess. I didn’t know what to do.

I couldn’t take one more sleepless night thinking about it. The dirty spots on the ceiling of my bedroom in the apartment I shared with Kat had become etched into my retinas. I wondered, as I stared at them each night, how they got there. Did the previous tenant shake a bottle of cola until it sprayed up to the ceiling? And why didn’t the manager repaint it, between tenants? More importantly, why did I even care? I imagined that the small brown spots arrived when a previous tenant was having fun in this room, laughing, joking and maybe jumping on the bed with a friend, or a boyfriend, with a bottle of Coke and... whatever. The joyful spirit that once filled this room was long gone.

I sufficiently filled the room with my gray mood every time I slipped away behind my closed door. I tried to put up a cheery front for Kat’s sake, even though she never judged me like my father had. That’s what I loved about Kat; she completely accepted people wherever they were in life, no matter how fucked up they were. She never once said, “I told you so. I told you he would break your heart.” But on the other hand, there’s a limit to self-pity. No one wants to hang around a person who carries a box of tissues from room to room— just in case.

So I found myself living with Kat again and dreaming about the way things could have been with Jesse. If he just hadn’t done this... if he just hadn’t done that, it was like a swinging vine, back and forth. On the one hand, Jesse was arrogant, strong-willed and thick headed, always solving his problems with a fist to someone’s face. But, on the other hand, I loved him. He could be sweet and charming, and oh so sexy. The muscles that rippled under his skin always caught my eye and I would stare at him, with my mouth practically hanging open. His eyes were liquid blue, yet could turn dark like steel when they are burning with passion, and then he would flex his arm, pushing the long unruly stand of hair back with his hand, making his “Carpe Diem” tattoo ripple and swim.

I covered my mouth at the thought. I thought I might gasp out loud just dreaming about him. I glanced around my bedroom, as if an imaginary person may have heard me, although I was alone. My shoulders slumped.

I sat cross legged on my bed with my design project fabric swatches strewn across the bedspread. I had intended on putting a dent in this project hours ago, but as usual my mind was my own enemy these days.

I picked up a swatch of crepe de chin and flipped it back and forth between my fingers fanning the air with it, deep in thought when I noticed a figure filling my door frame. It was just Kat.

“What?” I asked flatly. “You have a strange look on your face.” She sucked in her bottom lip, like she was struggling to keep a smile from popping out.

“Kat, I don’t want to talk to my dad right now,” I said and turned back to my project.

I threw the fabric swatch down onto the bed and adjusted my position with my back more to the door and put my head down. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone my dad, and I couldn’t look him in the eyes, for fear he might see the sadness I was hiding.

“It’s not your dad, Niki.”

It was Jesse’s voice. I spun around on the bed to see him standing behind Kat. That smile she had tried to stifle was released and sped across her face from ear to ear. She was so proud of herself, she was practically hopping from foot to foot, just like the cat who’d caught the mouse.

“Kat, why did you let him in?” I said evenly and rolled my eyes. I bit my lip and looked away. If I looked him in the eye, he would disarm me and I would melt. He would do something like push his hair up out of those oceans of blue and I’d fall to pieces, wanting to fall back into his arms again. I knew he had a pull on me. Yes, I missed him and longed for his kisses and his touch, but until this moment when I saw him standing there all gorgeous and looking apologetic, I hadn’t realized how deeply bad boy, Jesse Morrison, affected me. I could easily let him walk into this room, and the minute he touched me, the minute his lips brushed mine, he would be right back in my heart again and we would fall onto this bed, frantic with desire, soaking each other up like someone who’d gone without water for days and I’d be lost in his love all over again.

“I think you might what to hear what he has to say.” Kat shot me a knowing look and disappeared, leaving Jesse still standing in the doorway. He knew better than to enter. He hadn’t been invited in— yet. I pinned him to the doorway with a deadpan stare. He wasn’t getting off the hook that easily.

He ducked his chin to his chest sheepishly and asked, “How are you?”

But his question spurred the anger which had been brooding inside of me and the flood gates opened. I snapped back, “How do you think I am? I’m a fucking mess. You broke Gio’s nose. It’s never ending with you, Jesse, is it? Always solve things the same way, the violent way.” What are you doing her in Santa Monica, anyway? I thought you’d be stewing in an Italian jail, right now.”

My last remark struck me slightly ironic, as I imagined Jesse charming his way out of jail by convincing a female guard to unlock the door and let him out. I wouldn’t put it past him, he had the ability to make a girl’s head spin with a look and a hello. He could turn any girl into a hot mess and before they knew what hit them they’d be complying with his wishes. I smiled. That was Jesse. He could charm the wet panties off a girl in seconds.

“Good to see you too, Niki.” A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth as I let down my guard. “Actually, Gio came to see me in jail. He didn’t press charges.”

“You should consider yourself lucky. That’s more than you deserve.”

“I know but I had a good reason.”

“You always have a good reason. You thought we were fucking and you immediately went into one of your usual jealous rages. You’re very predictable, you know.”