First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (10 page)

When I turn to face her, she isn’t in shock. She isn’t fuming with anger. She’s terrified. Of me.

She pushed her chair back against the wall and is desperately trying to melt into it. Wide eyes stare back at me, tears threatening to spill over. She’s shaking like a leaf.

Holy shit. What did I do? My anger bleeds out into guilt for doing this to her. “I’m so sorry, Evie. I…I’m sorry.”

“Did you really hurt all those girls you were with?” She stutters out.

Her petrified expression is so unlike anything I’ve ever seen from her that I suddenly find myself questioning everything I know about her involvement with Hinton last year. “My God, Evie. What did he do to you?”

I’ve gotta bring her back before she goes into a full panic attack. I place my hand on her knee to ground her, and it breaks my heart when she flinches at my touch. “I’ve already told you, I have never been with anyone. Those are all just rumors, including the ten inches. Actually, I’m only eight.” My attempt at lightening the situation falls on deaf ears. “I wasn’t lying yesterday when I told you I’m still a virgin. And even if I were with a girl, I would never hurt her. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not like that, Evie. I swear.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“God, Evie, no…”

“It’s Eva,” she grinds out, her voice stronger.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Eva. Not doing a very good job earning the right to call you Evie, am I?”

She seems to come out of it as she looks at me then back to the desk, switching her gaze back and forth several times. “I’m sorry. Please, I don’t want to have sex with you.” “Eva, you’re still not hearing me. I would never do something like that. My temper got the better of me. I’m sorry. Just listen to me now, all right?”

She doesn’t respond, but nods her head to let me know she’s willing to hear me out.

“You let all the rumors about you last year completely change who you are. That’s your choice. But I’m not like that. People are gonna talk, and I can’t change it. I try not to let it get me down. I try even harder to just ignore it. When you keep throwing shit in my face that I have
never
done, it sucks. Yours is one of the few opinions I honestly care about. You say I don’t know anything about you? Fine. You’re right. You obviously don’t know anything about me, either. I’m trying here, Eva. There’s only so much I can do if you’re gonna keep pushing me away though.” I run a shaky hand through my hair. This whole situation is so insane. There’s no way to know if she’s actually listening or just biding her time until she can escape my presence.

“Look, I don’t really know what happened between you and Eddie last year but you have to stop treating me like I’m him. Because I’m not.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you so angry. I just…I had to be sure. The only reason guys talk to me now is because they think I’m easy.” A shudder racks her body. She wraps her arms tightly around herself in that way that’s so familiar.

I’m so ashamed of myself. I’m just as much of a hypocrite as she is. Anything else I can take in stride but
that
rumor always makes me lose my temper.

That one damn time in the locker room that everyone thought it would be funny to get out the measuring tape has haunted me for years. It seemed like a good idea, a way to get the guys off my case for being a virgin. Man, did that backfire. After seeing what God gave me, they only harassed me more for not using it.

That’s part of the reason that particular rumor always gets to me. Evie thinks it benefits me. Nope. Everyone thinks me having a huge dick is funny or that I’m lucky. Apparently, eight inches isn’t newsworthy enough because the number has creeped up over time. How fucking ridiculous is the concept of a ten-inch dick? Why would anyone even want that? I guess it would be awesome to be so well-hung if your aspiration in life is to be a porn star. That’s not who I am or what I’m about. Although that’s just one more thing I have to hide. Jesus, the guys would have a field day if I admitted any of that aloud.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

Her apology pulls me from my wallowing. “No. I’m sorry. I need to learn to control my temper better. I just reamed you out for letting rumors change you, and I go and do the same thing. I had no right to talk to you like that. I would never, ever disrespect you by doing anything to hurt you or anything that you didn’t want. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. I’m not that kind of guy, Eva. I never have been, and I never will be.
Please
, please forgive me.”

She sucks in her lips then releases a heavy sigh. “I can take people thinking I’m a slut. I know the truth and so does Eddie. What’s hard is people thinking I’m a horrible person. I’m really not. At least, I try not to be. But I’ve been horrible to you, and I’m sorry. I totally understand if you don’t want to tutor me anymore.”

“You still want me to tutor you?”

It seems like she’s throwing this on me, to see if I’ll back out first. I know I should probably just walk away, but I can’t.

She takes a deep breath. “Yes. I need the help. I would appreciate it very much.”

“All right then. I can do that. And I understand that you don’t really trust people anymore, especially people of the male persuasion. I meant what I said before. I won’t expect your trust. I’ll earn it. Okay?”

“Just go easy on me if I slip up and act like a bitch again. I’ve been doing this for a while. Old habits die hard and all that.”

My stomach growls. Embarrassment, hot and sure, creeps up my neck. “Sorry. I told you I didn’t grab a snack so I could take a shower for you.”

Her laughter is subdued but a welcome sound, anyway. She digs in her backpack for a minute in silence, then sets a granola bar on my calc book.

“What’s this?”

“Food,” she responds. Her tone suggests I’m a blind idiot.

“I know that. It’s just…why would you give me anything?”

“Peace offering.” She gives me a small smile and turns to open her book to the page mine is on.

I wonder if I’m actually sleeping through class right now, dreaming. If I am, then this ranks as one of the weirdest dreams of my life. “Time to keep up my end of the bargain. Lemme see your homework from last night.”

She silently hands over her work. Jesus, she has no clue what’s going on in this class.

“You really should have called me last night.”

“Good girls don’t call boys, they wait for boys to call them,” she recites in a sarcastic tone.

Huh. Even if it’s for show, playful Evie is something I could get used to. It’s another little reminder that my girl is still in there somewhere, no matter how much she tries to deny it. “Yeah, well…I don’t have your number, and it’s kind of ridiculous to expect me to call you at random times just to check in and see if you’re doing your calc homework and need help. Besides, that crap about girls not calling boys is totally sexist.”

I should know. My phone rings all the damn time. Thank God for caller ID. If it’s not someone I want to talk to, I don’t answer it.

“Uh huh,” she says. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe me.

“What? It is.” I probably couldn’t get up the nerve to call her even if I had her number. I haven’t talked to her online for the past three years even though I came home from my first day of freshman year and immediately friend requested her. When she accepted, I actually kissed my laptop. That was pretty much the extent of our online interactions.

“All right, you’re still way behind. Work some problems from what we went over last night. I wanna make sure you’ve got that down before we move on. I can’t promise you a miracle for the quiz this week, but I’ll make sure you don’t fail it at least.”

She sets to work while I watch her quietly. Whatever happened with her and Hinton last year was way bigger than it seemed. It’s time to start digging. I can’t read a defense without knowing what I’m up against.

“So are you excited for the season opener next week?” She asks as she works through a problem.

“Yeah, can’t wait.”

“Are you having practice Friday since there’s no game?” Her brow is furrowed as she speaks. When she’s silent, her tongue peeks out of the corner of her mouth.

Jesus, she’s killing me. I wanna take her tongue, pull it into my own mouth, and suck on it… Dammit. What did she ask me again? Oh. Right. Practice. “Yep. You?”

“Yeah,” she responds, still concentrating with her tongue peeking out.

“Why do you ask, Eva? Wanna go out Friday night?” God, I wish.

She gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t date jocks.”

Funny how I wasn’t even seriously asking her, but she still shot me down. This is exactly how I always imagined it would be if I did actually ask her. “I don’t think calculus is really the most romantic idea for a date, anyway.”

She laughs as she continues her work. “You think the diner is a romantic date.”

“Now, where would you get an awful idea like that?”

She finishes her problems and turns to me with a strange expression. “Uh, because I work there. I get the pleasure of waiting on you and your crew for most of your group date nights. You really should spring for somewhere nicer than that, and maybe you know, just the two of you. Girls like feeling slightly more special than that.”

“Oh, this is rich. Dating advice from the girl who doesn’t date at all. I’ll have you know those aren’t my dates. They’re technically Alex’s. He makes me his wingman. And I kind of owe him, so there’s that.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“You’ve never seen a girl walking around school with my jersey on, have you?”

Another stupid thing out of my mouth. Probably because I’ve been saving it for her. If she’s not gonna wear it, then no one is.

“I thought that was a tradition reserved for only girlfriends of players? I didn’t think, as chauvinistic as it is, that you guys just gave them out to the flavor of the week.” Her tone lacks any real bite. She’s just genuinely curious about this rather than accusing.

I decide it’s safe to answer her honestly. “No, that’s true. I guess that’s why you don’t see too many girls wearing them.”

Most of my teammates don’t have serious girlfriends. They’re like Alex. They wanna take as much as they can get as easily as they can get it.

“Oh.”

“Let’s keep moving with calc. We can talk more later.”

I hope.

I
nsomnia sucks. The last time I checked my phone it was one in the morning…an eternity ago. My cat, Gatoula, purrs at my side, seemingly oblivious to my tossing and turning. His constant noise is usually more soothing, but tonight the sound is the equivalent of a clock ticking. Not even the feel of his soft orange fur beneath my fingertips lulls me to sleep.

I wish my damn brain would just shut off already, but nooo. No, instead of being immersed in a pleasant dream, I’m stuck in reality, lying here and wondering where in the hell I went wrong. I mean, I know exactly where I went wrong. I’m just trying to figure out how it got to this low point.

I’m not about to pretend last year didn’t change who I am because that’s absurd. What I really can’t put my finger on is whether I’m happy with the person I’ve become. Honestly, after that showdown with Rob in the library, I’m not so certain anymore. Sure, the guy’s turned into an obnoxious jock that I can’t afford to let my guard down around, but there’s no denying that he certainly hit the nail on the head when he pretty much called me a hypocrite. I absolutely hate that he’s right. Loathe it.