Light Unshaken (Unveiled #2) Page 11

  My face fell.

  He laughed. “Aw, c’mon. I’m teasing, Em. Just trying to keep things from being awkward.”

  “Um, you might wanna try another game plan.” I shouldered him into the empty space on his other side.

  He stayed hunched over, rubbing his arm and laughing harder. I reached for the popcorn again. Scrambling to block me, A. J. accidentally bumped into the students in front of us.

  Two freshman boys decked out in Reed fanfare pivoted in their seats, about to stand up. One look at A. J.’s size must’ve made them think twice.

  A senior girl wearing a student council blazer whipped her long blonde ponytail around. Though she didn’t make a peep, the reprimand in her expression blared louder than the band’s horn section.

  I leaned into A. J. “I’d take on the guys over Blondie, if I were you.”

  Smiling, he pressed his shoulder against mine. “Good call.”

  Ashlea slinked back through the narrow space in front of us and drew our conversation to a standstill. A. J. and I sat facing forward with our attention fixed on the halftime show.

  In perfect sync with the setting sun, a glow-in-the-dark necklace waded down the row. I ignored A. J.’s not-so-subtle smirk as he handed it to me with far too much enjoyment. I clipped it around my neck and brandished a half-smile at Trevor’s cheesy grin beaming from the end of the bleacher.

  “Very techno,” A. J. said from the corner of his mouth.

  I elbowed him. “Oh, shut up, Mr. Finger Paint.”

  He flashed me an incredulous look. “Why you keep startin’ somethin’ you know you can’t finish?”

  “Psh, please.”

  That did it. A. J. maneuvered past my flailing hands and the bill of my hat and almost got close enough to wipe paint from his cheek to mine. He squeezed my side. I squealed right as Ashlea passed a phone to me.

  Riley’s number glared at me from the screen. My stomach tightened. I eased back into my seat and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey.”

  “You all right? You didn’t answer your phone, so I called Jaycee’s.”

  I patted my pockets for my cell. “Sorry. I must not have heard it.”

  “Too preoccupied?”

  What was that supposed to mean? Like he was one to say anything about missing calls.

  “We’re at a football game. It’s kinda loud.” And definitely not the right time or place to tell him about the attack. “Can I call you when it’s over?”

  He didn’t answer at first. “I’m about to go into a rehearsal. I’ll call on my next break.”

  “Okay.” Not that I’d be ready then either. “Bye.” Holding the phone with both hands, I stared at my lap. This was going to be even harder than I thought.

  A. J. shifted on the bench, straightened out his jeans. “Everything all right?”

  Nothing seemed all right anymore. I passed off a smile and Jaycee’s cell. “Yep.”

  I tucked my hands into my hoodie pocket and tried to focus on the game. At least I could put off the call a little longer.

  After far too many drawn-out plays, the football spiraled down the field. I inched to the edge of the bleacher and lunged to my feet at the same time as everyone else. Holding our breath, we all tilted toward the end zone. The ball skimmed past the defender’s hands and landed in our running back’s secure grip.

  Between all the jumping and hollering, I could barely see over the student in front of me. Not that I needed a direct line of sight to the field to know we’d just scored a touchdown.

  The stands erupted in chaos. The sweet taste of victory sent all Reedies practically toppling over each other. At least, everyone but A. J. and me. I didn’t dare hug him with Miss Ice Queen standing guard on his opposite side.

  A tap on my shoulder drew me toward the devilish grin of the burly guy I’d tripped over earlier. His eyebrows bobbed with an open, and entirely too eager, invitation for a hug.

  On instinct, I slid toward A. J. and wrapped my arm around his.

  He peered toward the source of my reaction and laughed against my hair.

  Great. What was I thinking? He’d probably throw me into the ghoulish-looking guy’s arms as retaliation for the face paint crack I’d made. I grounded my feet, but A. J. draped his long arm over my shoulders instead.

  He must’ve given the guy a look that told him, in no uncertain terms, to back off. When I braved another peek in my seatmate’s direction, he looked as if an invisible neck brace prevented him from turning his head at even the slightest angle toward me.

  I offered A. J. a grateful smile and prudently backed out from under his protective arm. No need to add to whatever suspicions Ashlea seemed to be brooding over. I didn’t know what the big deal was. A. J. and I teased each other same as Trevor and I did. Ashlea had no reason to be jealous of our friendship.

  Trevor squeezed to the end of the bleacher, grabbed my shoulders, and prodded me into the crowd. “Let’s roll, guys. Emma can lead the way with her necklace. Kinda like Rudolph,” he added with an obnoxious laugh.

  He was lucky I didn’t have antlers.

  Our small group of friends navigated through the throng of fans and snuck off to the less crowded path wrapping the long way back to our apartments.

  Becky looped arms with me. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to sit together. Maybe we can—”

  My phone rang from my pocket. I untangled my arm from Becky’s. The number on the screen grounded me in place. No putting it off this time. All the different ways I’d come up with to tell Riley about the assault twisted into a ball mounting in my throat.

  A. J.’s hesitant glance met mine.

  Jaycee corralled everyone forward. “C’mon, guys. Emma will be along in a minute.”

  If I made it through this.

  chapter sixteen

  Lost And Found

  Riley whizzed past the waver in my hello. “Is this a good time?”

  Would it ever be?

  “Game’s over now.” I hustled up the sidewalk away from the racket still brewing on the field.

  “Sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’m just . . .” He released a long, knotted breath. “Overtired, frustrated.”

  Join the club.

  “I’ve had a hectic day—weeks, if I’m being honest. I feel like I’m sleepwalking most of the time. Jess wants me to write a couple songs with piano to add more diversity to the album, but I keep hitting this block. All week, I’ve been up half the night working on this one song.”

  The strain in his voice tore at my heart. He was already dealing with enough pressure without my heaping on any more. I broke off a tiny branch from the bordering shrubs and fiddled with it as I walked. Was honesty really what he needed right now?

  He sighed again. “Sorry. I called to hear your voice, not to complain. How was the game? Did we win?”

  “Yep, thirteen to seven,” I said with more pride than I expected. “Things got a little rowdy at the end.”

  “I bet. Gotta say, I’m impressed your friends coerced you into going to a game.”

  “You and me both.” I spun the plastic tube around my neck. “I’m even rocking a glow-in-the-dark necklace.”

  Riley’s laughter cuddled around me like one of his fleece shirts. Soft, comforting. Its warmth amplified my longing to be with him.

  “Let me guess. Trevor’s handiwork?”

  “Like you have to ask.”

  It felt good to be at ease with him, even if only for a minute.

  A moan seeped through his end of the line. “Wish I could be there. I hate missing these moments with you. Hate not getting to talk all the time.”

  “Me too.” An acute pain followed my honest confession. Riley wasn’t just down the road at his apartment. He was in another state, a world away. Phone calls weren’t enough to fill the hole of his absence.

  I sat on a thick patch of grass in front of the creek and pretended he was right beside me, rather than hundreds of miles away. At least we had right now.

  He ex
haled, probably trying to shake it off too. “What else have I been missing?”

  I faced the sky. God, please help me through this.

  “Actually . . .” I curved the twig in a semi-circle. “Listen, don’t be mad, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

  An electric pause surged.

  “What is it?” he said, each word measured with caution.

  Courage, Em. “Earlier in the semester, I was working late on my Wednesday shift, and Trey had to leave early, so . . .”

  “So?” he prompted. “What happened? What aren’t you telling me?”

  I drew swirls in the dirt, stalling to find the words to tread lightly over the dark memory.

  “So, I had to run out to your car to get my charger, and when I turned around there were some guys waiting for me.”

  “What do you mean they were waiting for you? What guys?”

  “Some teenage thugs from the neighborhood.”

  Riley’s breathing turned choppy. “What happened, Emma?”

  The creek flowed downstream, gliding over rocks in its path. Why wouldn’t words come as easily? There had to be a way to be honest while defusing his reaction at the same time.

  “They cornered me. I almost got away on my own, which reminds me. I need to thank Austin for all the wrestling lessons he gave me. But everything’s fine. Don’t worry, I—”

  “Don’t worry?” Riley scoffed. “You tell me you almost got away from a group of thugs who tried to attack you, and you ask me not to worry?”

  “You didn’t let me finish. I said I almost got away on my own. A. J. showed up before they could do anything.”

  “A. J.? What was he doing there?”

  It hit me that I’d never told him A. J. took the job as coach. I picked at a snag on the side of my Converse sneaker. “He works there now.”

  Riley’s pause shouted everything he didn’t say.

  I tried to brush past it. “He took the guys down without either of us getting hurt and brought me home safely. I only had a mild headache for a few days. It was nothing.”

  “How can you say that? You could’ve been hurt. You could’ve been—”

  “But I wasn’t. And there’s no way A. J. and Trey are letting me out of their sight again.”

  “You should have told me.”

  The reproach in his tone set off a pang of defense across my shoulders. “And what if I had? Would you have been on the first plane here?”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “No, that’s exactly the point.” I snapped the twig in half and flicked it into the creek. Great advice, Jae. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You can’t rush back here just because I run into some trouble. You have a lot going on in your life right now. You don’t need any distractions.”

  “Stop it, please. When will you understand, you’re the most important part of my life?” He released a hard breath. “Of course I’d drop everything and come home if you needed me. I should have been there. I should be the one to take care of you. Not . . . A. J. Bowers.”

  “Riley.” The damp earth soaked through my jeans with the sting of regret. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want you to worry. And A. J. was just being a good friend.”

  A harsh laugh raked across the line. “Don’t be gullible, Emma.”

  Me? I dug my fingers in the grass. “What, I’m not allowed to work with a friend, but you can go clubbing with your manager every night?”

  He didn’t respond. Didn’t need to. Guilt stabbed on its own.

  “I’m sorry. That was out of line.” And immature.

  The silence stretched past excruciating.

  “Riley?”

  “It’s getting late. We should both get to bed.” The miles between us didn’t diminish the hurt his voice carried or buffer my heart from splintering like the broken twig.

  He’d finish talking about it when he was ready. There wasn’t any more I could say tonight, except for one thing. “I love you.”

  The words throbbed in another agonizing pause, a question begging for a response.

  “I love you too. Goodnight, Emma.”

  His hollow tone swallowed the assurance I craved. Tears pushed through my closed lashes. My phone slipped to the ground. Every one of our calls ended with dissonance. What was happening to us? To me?

  I yanked off Trevor’s hat and threw it on the grass. Gripping fists of hair between my fingers, I faced the sky and fought for some measure of direction. “Dad? I’m scared. What if I’m losing him? I don’t know what to do.”

  The longer I waited, the deeper the clouds shrouded the stars and the memory of Dad’s embrace.

  Alone on the bank, I stretched my hoodie over my legs. I used to be able to find clarity out here.

  The campus transformed this time of night. In place of voices clamoring from the stadium, the crickets’ hum assumed the spotlight as the night’s last performer. Shafts of lamplight swayed along the water’s current. Even the rain-scented mist rising from the grass exuded a peace outside my grasp, but I kept waiting.

  Thoughts held me captive until the dampness crept under the lining of my sweatshirt and prodded me to my feet.

  My body froze at the sight of someone gaining ground on me. I darted a glance down the opposite side of the trail toward the fleeting hope that other students were nearby. After the run-in with Tito, I promised myself I’d never end up in a similar circumstance.

  The hot sting of fear pricked my skin with an imprint that’d always be with me now. The suspicions, the adrenaline.

  I backed to the edge of the path and bumped into a lamppost. It’s fine. We’re on campus. Nothing’s gonna happen. I crouched and pretended to tie my shoe. He’d probably pass right by me.

  “I thought we talked about you not being out at night by yourself.” A. J.’s grin beamed above his outstretched arm.

  An elongated exhale released my unwarranted panic. I grabbed his hand and rose, relief warming me. “I think our campus has a slightly lower crime rate than downtown Portland.”

  “You can never be too careful. Especially not after we just beat our rival school. Never know who might be lurking around, ready to take vengeance.”

  I dusted off the gravel from my hands. “Come to think of it, I might’ve heard of some sketchy basketball players sneaking up on innocent girls in dark parts of campus.” A sassy grin latched on to my mock accusation.

  “Guess we better get you back to your apartment, then. I hear those basketball players can be quite charming. You’d never see it coming.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It’s their greatest weapon. Just one dashing smile, and it’s all over after that.” He flashed a spread of brilliant white teeth.

  I exaggerated an uninterested yawn. “Good thing that kind of charm doesn’t faze me.”

  “Heart of steel you got there.” His laugh soothed. He nodded to the trail. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

  In a pair of mesh basketball shorts and a hooded Nike sweatshirt, he must’ve been headed for the gym. Maybe I wasn’t the only one in need of a stress reliever.

  He tucked a basketball against his hip. “You seemed kinda tense on the phone. Back at the game earlier. You sure you’re good?”

  Did falling apart count as good? I nudged a rock into the grass with the tip of my sneaker. “I told Riley about that night with Tito.”

  Understanding touched his eyes.

  “The strain of being apart . . . it’s too much sometimes. I just want it all to be over, you know?”

  He kept his focus ahead of us. “I know,” he said softly.

  Unlike Jaycee, he wasn’t quick to offer advice. Didn’t press. We simply walked. The tension lessened with him nearby, even in silence.

  Every few steps, I snuck a glance his way. The lamplight caught flakes of white face paint left in the whiskers along his jaw line and the bits of brown hair peeking out from under his backward hat.

  “I like your beard, by the way.
”

  He balked. “It’s not a beard. It’s scruff.”

  “Scruff?”

  “Adds to my rugged mystique.” He ran his knuckles along his cheekbone.

  I bit my cuff, barely squelching a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”

  “Considering the girl I’m walking home is laughing at me, I’d say not too well.”

  I shoved him forward. “With a girl like Ashlea hanging all over you, I’d say you’re doing just fine, buddy.”

  He scuffed his Nikes along the concrete, keeping his head down and whatever he wasn’t saying hidden.

  “I really tried,” he said a minute later. “With Ashlea. But something’s missing.” He spun the basketball in his hands. “Trev told me to go for it. Just let myself fall in love with her. Guess we both know it doesn’t exactly work that way.”

  Did he always have to say stuff like that?

  Branches of nearby trees rustled in the wind with an excuse to look away from him. The blackberry stains covering the sidewalk passed under our feet. I had to believe I could undo the stains I’d left on our friendship as much as I had to believe A. J. would find the right girl.

  “Give it some more time,” I said. “It can be hard to know when you’re really in love if you’re afraid to find out.”

  The breeze carried an echo of his soft laughter ahead of us.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He stopped and faced me. “Actually, I think that’s how you know you’re in love. When the feelings inside you are so overwhelming they literally scare you.”

  My gaze strayed away from the intensity in his.

  He lifted his hat, ruffled his hair, and slid it back on. “Ashlea’s great. We hit it off. That should be enough, but . . .”

  “It’s not.” I knew exactly what he meant. “It’s like music.”

  “Music.” His forehead crumpled. “You’re not getting all Dr. Phil on me, are you?”

  I stole the ball from him. “Okay, smarty pants, just think about it. You like all the songs on your favorite album, right? The lyrics, the energy, the riffs.” I tossed the ball around as we walked. “But there’s always that one song that stands out from the rest.”