Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance (45 page)

Chapter 24

Eliza

“So, how long have you been dating my son?”

Junior chokes on his water.
“Mom…”

“What? Is that not an appropriate question?”

The entire Morgan family stares at us from around the dining room table and I feel more on display than the fancy centerpiece Bonnie obviously pulled out from the back of the closet. It’s a sea of brown hair and brown eyes; sharp cheek bones and strong chins. Maggie and her mother could almost pass as sisters but it’ll take Junior about twenty years to catch up to his father’s wrinkles.

“Oh…” I shrug. “Not too long, but I’ve been tutoring him in geometry since the start of the semester.”

Bonnie looks at Junior. “I didn’t know you had a tutor…”

He nods. “Yeah… I needed to get my grade up a little.”

Roy furrows his brow. “You weren’t in any academic trouble were you?”

“No, Dad. I wasn’t… I just wanted someone to check my work and help me study.”

Bonnie points her fork at him. “Get the grade up and keep it up. It’s just as important as
football
.”

He answers through clenched teeth. “I know, Mom.”

“I don’t want you flunking out before graduation,” she continues. “My baby is going pro!”

I laugh. “I can confirm that Junior has made excellent progress. You shouldn’t have to worry about him flunking out. I won’t let that happen.”

Bonnie grins at me, her eyes bright and accepting. I guess I haven’t lost my touch. “And
you
… he’s never said a word about
you
at all.”

“There’s nothing to say, really…”

“Well, you’ve clearly been quite the good influence on him.”

I smile. “It’s nothing he didn’t already have in him. All Junior really needed was the right
incentive
.”

Junior chokes on his water again.

“For heaven’s sake, Junior…” Bonnie snaps at him.
“Chew your food.”
I look over to find him glaring at me. “One thing’s for sure, I need to call up that coach.”

“Why?” Junior snaps.

“To thank him, of course! I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, but if that old coot that ran the team before hadn’t have died then Cary Pierce wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t be on your way to the championship. And if he weren’t here, then Eliza wouldn’t be either. If you ask me, we owe the Pierces a great deal of gratitude.”

He shakes his head. “No, Mom. Really. Don’t call him.”

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my cool better than he is. “I’d be more than happy to pass on any message you have…”

Maggie flashes us a knowing wink. “Don’t bother the guy, Mom. Remember when you harassed one of
my
professors after he wrote me that recommendation letter?”

“I did not
harass
Professor Shelton — that was completely different,” Bonnie argues. “And that recommendation letter got you into graduate school!”

“Correction: Being a
badass
got me into graduate school. The recommendation letter was a formality.”

Bonnie sighs. “Well, I can’t help it if I appreciate those who help my children. Your father and I did the best we could to provide you two with every opportunity but we couldn’t give you everything. Cary Pierce has changed Junior’s life and if we keep our heads up and minimize mistakes, then
nothing
can stop him from achieving his dreams.”

My gut lurches, weighed down by the growing black hole lodged deep inside.

Nothing can stop Junior from achieving his dreams? I can think of something that might.

“Damn, Mom,” Junior laughs. “Maybe
you
should coach the football team. You certainly have the motivational speeches down.”

She smirks. “I may have applied for the job once or twice.”

I pick up the napkin from my lap and slide out of my chair. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

Bonnie nods. “We’re having the one on this floor redone but the one upstairs is fine. Up the stairs and to the right.”

“Thank you.”

“Redone?” I hear Maggie quip as I leave the room. “Since when do we have rooms
redone
?”

I head up the stairs and the voices dim into whispers behind me.

The bathroom is just where Bonnie said it would be and I sneak inside to dab a bit of cold water on my forehead. I hold my hair to the side and let a little drip onto the back of my neck, cooling myself down as I hold my breath.

So, this is Junior Morgan’s family. Honestly, I never even pictured it. Not even once. I knew he had a sister — he mentions Maggie in some way about once a week — but other than that, he doesn’t talk about them.

And now his mother sees me as the Messiah’s beautiful daughter, sent down from heaven above to make all her baby boy’s dreams come true.

Whoops.

I step out into the hall and turn back to the stairwell when I pause, reading the tiny, faux license plate attached to the door across from the bathroom.

JUNIOR

Curiosity takes over and I twist the doorknob to let myself in.

The room is decorated black and blue with enough posters on the walls to cover up most of the white paint. Sports trophies line a shelf with medals and certificates flashing Junior’s name, most of them in gold.

I smile at a photo above his bed showing a pre-teen boy flexing in swim trunks over his big sister’s teenage head. No real muscle mass, no sign of tattoos. Just little Junior Morgan before he became who he is now.

“Ellie?”

I spin around to the door as Junior pokes his head in. “Hey,” I chuckle.

He inches towards me with suspicious eyes and nervous, pink cheeks. “What are you doing in here?”

“Snooping,” I shrug, glancing around again. He flips the picture frame down while I’m not looking. I pretend not to notice. “Sorry if I’ve invaded your private space…”

“It’s all right,” he laughs. “I honestly don’t remember most of what’s left in here.”

I scan the walls and my eyes land on a familiar face above his shoulder. It’s an old poster of my father; poised and strong in his jersey, holding a football and winking right at the camera.

“Even that?” I point.

Junior follows my gaze. “Oh…” he winces. “No, I remember that. I’ve had that for like ten years…”

“I guess you weren’t kidding when you said he was a hero of yours.”

“I really wasn’t.” He blinks at me and smiles wide. “So…
who the hell are you
because you are freakin’ amazing…”

I laugh. “I make a decent impression.”

“No shit.”

“I, uh…” I pause, searching my memory for the best explanation. “I used to spend a lot of time at friends’ and neighbors’ houses.”

He furrows his brow. “Okay.”

“My father was nonexistent and my mother often disappeared for days at a time. She’d leave me some money — a little chunk of my dad’s child support and take off with the rest until it ran out. Eventually, she got sick of coming back to check on me so she put me into that boarding school. I saw her about once a month… maybe.”

His mouth opens and closes. “Oh.”

“Before then, people started to notice, so they’d take me in until she got back. I never wanted to be a burden on anybody but more often than not, I felt that way.” Junior stays quiet. I think to shut up but the words just keep spilling out. “I was
that Pierce girl
, once again taking up space in places where I didn’t belong but I did chores, helped make meals, and worked to earn my keep wherever I stayed. In the process, I learned a lot about manners and making a good impression from the grateful mothers of my friends.”

“Wow,” he says, his eyes soft on me. “That would explain it then.”

I nod. “Couple that with a natural acting ability and you have the perfect girl to bring home to your parents.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry about her, by the way, she can be…”

“Like Maggie?”

“Maggie 2.0, really.”

I laugh. “They’ve been great.
Really
great…”

He steps forward, studying my eyes a little closer and I realize I’ve dropped my guard. “What is it?”

I bite my cheek, hesitating to say anything but I’ve already started the avalanche of weight falling off my chest.

My feet carry me away from him and I let my eyes wander again. “I’ve always wanted a family like this.”

“Like what?”

“Boring.”

Junior scoffs, feigning some fake offense with his hand on his chest. “You think we’re
boring
?”

“You know what I mean…” I rub my palms together. “
Normal.
Your parents love each other. They’re still
together
. You have a sister and you get along. Birthday cards and Christmas cookies.”

He gives a short nod. “I don’t know if we’re
normal
anymore, honestly. My family could easily be considered weird to most others.”

“Well… it just seems a hell of a lot better than having a famous dad you barely see or a mom that couldn’t even remember whether you’re allergic to peanuts or penicillin.”

“You’re allergic to penicillin?”

“Peanuts.”

“Noted,” he smiles. “Come on, Ellie, look around. You grew up in
New York
going to fancy schools. All we ever had was each other.”

“You were wealthier than I was, Junior.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

I take a step back, hoping it’ll hide the river of tears just begging to fall from my eyes. Years of repressed thoughts and feelings build up in my chest but I fight the hormones down. This isn’t the time or the place for it and the last thing I want to do is get emotional in front of Junior. We’ve been exclusive for less than a
day,
for fuck’s sake, and yet…

“I became an actress just so I could escape my life. Be someone else — even for just a little while. It wasn’t about being noticed, it was about disappearing.”

Junior pauses and he stares down at me with kind eyes, completely void of judgment or annoyance. “I became an athlete so people would notice me.”

I stop a tear before it falls. Once again, we find ourselves standing at the opposite end of a long spectrum from each other, but I’ve never been anywhere else that makes as much sense.

“That’s some mighty green grass you got over there, Junior Morgan.”

He gives a short smile. “Looks a lot like yours, Eliza Pierce.”

“Sorry...” I turn away. “I didn’t mean to bring up this shit… I just felt like talking and you were standing there…” 

“Hey.” He places his hands on my shoulders to draw me back to him. “You don’t have to apologize. You can talk to me anytime about anything. That’s why I’m here.”

For a second, I believe him. I believe that everything will be okay and that I really can tell him everything.

The second passes.

“
Don’t let them see your weaknesses,
” I quote. “Isn’t that what Cary Pierce always says?”

He shrugs. “Well… I hate to say this, but… Cary Pierce is kind of a dick.”

I laugh and Junior pulls me closer, wrapping his large arms around me in a perfect embrace.

“There she is…” he says, reacting to my smile.

I hold him tighter, entwining my fingers together behind his back to stay there forever.

His lips graze my head and he smells my hair. His arms flex slightly, holding me with an even tighter grip and I nearly cry again.

“We should get back downstairs…” I say, pulling away. “Before they start wondering what we’re doing up here…”

Junior nods but his eyes say differently. “Wait...”

“What?”

“You look really beautiful right now and I don’t want to waste it.”

He pulls me closer and kisses me. Happiness grows in me and I cling to his wild lips on mine. Every taste, every smell. Everything about him drives me as crazy as it always has.

“You’re perfect, Eliza Pierce,” he says.

I chuckle. “Promise?”

Junior steps back and draws an X over his chest.

***

“Eliza! Is that you?”

I shove the paper sack into my messenger bag, hiding it away as I kick the front door closed behind me. “Yeah!”

“Come here for a minute.”

I shake out my tension and throw on a smile before walking into the kitchen. “Hey, Dad.”

He sits at the counter with a cup of coffee in one hand and a sports magazine in the other. I lay my bag down on the counter’s edge, along with my stack of notebooks.

“Where have you been?” he asks. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“Yeah… I, uh…” I walk to the fridge and pull it open. “I stayed the night on Grant’s floor,” I lie. “I was up a little too late doing homework and today we did some shopping.”

Dad stares at the notebooks. “What kind of homework?”

“Just memorizing a scene for class this week.”

He pulls a loose page out from the notebook on top and I cringe on the inside. “Why do you have Junior Morgan’s math homework?”

Shit.

“Oh…” I keep a smile and wave my hand. “He was having some trouble and asked if I’d take a look at it for errors.”

He raises his brow. “I didn’t realize you were friends.”

“We’re not,” I shrug. “I mean… we don’t hang out or anything. Someone must have told him I was good with math so he asked me to help him.” I study his cold, stern eyes. “Is that okay?”

He sets the paper down. “Sure. That’s okay.”

I clear my throat and grab my things, eager to get away from the suspicion in his tone. “I’ll be upstairs.”

“All right.”

I rush to the third floor, firmly clutching the paper sack hidden away in my bag, and lament the lack of lock on my bedroom door.

***

If knowledge is power, then this moment shouldn’t make me feel so weak.

It’s not exactly how I pictured it. I’m not sure if I ever did, but it’s pretty vivid now. That awkward look down the pharmacy aisle because you can just feel someone watching you, but there’s no one in sight. All the different
choices
involved. How in the hell can there be so many colors and variations for sticks you pee on?