The Girl I Was Before - Page 97/127

“You said something about a barbecue. Where’s that at?” Ty asks. I’m watching their conversation, only half involved.

“That apartment complex over on Center. Cash lives there along with a few football players,” Nate says.

“Beer?” Ty asks.

“Always,” Nate laughs.

“We’re in. Houston, dinner’s on me,” Ty says, slapping my arm.

“Isn’t it just a barbecue at someone’s house?” I ask.

“Precisely. That’s why it’s on me,” he laughs. I smile and nod, never committing or agreeing, but letting the conversation keep moving onto topics like Ty’s work schedule and the series Nate has next week. If Paige goes, I’ll be there…until I have to go home. I feel bad just leaving Leah with my mom, and I feel like I’ve done that—a lot—lately.

When the game starts, the conversation shifts to every play. Ty is his brother’s biggest fan, and there isn’t a move that happens on that field he doesn’t have something to say about—even if Nate’s not involved in the play. Everyone was right, though, when they said Nate was gifted. He’s not really any bigger than the other guys, but there’s something about the way he carries his bat to the plate that makes him intimidating.

He picked off two people at second. I used to go to a lot of McConnell games with my dad when I was young—at least one a week when I was ten and eleven, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a successful pickoff in person. Nate just made two, and he made them look easy.

Paige stays near her sister and Rowe. The few times I look back, I can tell they’re talking. I’m not sure if she’s telling them about the story in the paper, or if she’s talking about us. I’m in the dark, and it’s starting to suffocate me a little. By the time the game’s over, I’m anxious to stand. I take the steps and stop near the end of the bleachers while Ty waits for Nate, and the three girls huddle together talking even more. After a few minutes, Paige glances up and sees I’m standing alone.

“Hang on,” she says to Cass and Rowe, excusing herself to come talk to me. I think I might be a little offended.

“Hey,” she says. It’s a guilty hey, and now I feel like shit that she feels guilty.

“Hey,” I say back. Lame.

“Cass wants me to go with them, to some barbecue or whatever,” she says. She looks tired, and she looks beaten down. It’s from waiting for the other shoe to drop; I can tell.

“Yeah, Ty mentioned something. We can go…if you want,” I say, but while I’m talking I can read her face. She doesn’t want me to go. What the fuck?

“I was thinking, it might be nice…to have a little time with my sister? I’m sorry. Is that…” she doesn’t finish.

Is that rude? Well not when she puts it that way. But it feels rude, or wrong, or something that is definitely opposite of good. But it’s her sister, and she just lent her reputation to help expose drug abuse in the Greek system—or so the story played out this morning. I guess I can cut her some slack on wanting to go somewhere without me. I might be being a little…fuck, am I clingy?

“Sure,” I smile. “If you need a ride, or…or whatever.” I hold up my phone.

She glances back at her sister and Rowe, and they’re watching us closely. I know she’s not going to kiss me in front of them, so I nod in understanding. It’s okay, Paige. For now, this is still okay.

Ty pushes up next to me.

“Nate will be a few minutes, then we’ll head over to Center,” he says.

“Actually, I’ve gotta run. I’m sorry, but it’s my mom…you know how that goes,” I lie. I hate using my mother as a pawn—almost as much as I hate lying, but the longer I stand here, the more I really want to leave. Paige is walking away with the girls, and she glances back at me once, our eyes meeting, and from this distance I can read them more clearly. She’s saying she’s sorry. I have no idea what for. And it’s making me sick as hell.

Paige

“Why do they only ever serve beer at these damn parties,” I say, my red cup in my hand while I stand in line with Rowe and Cass.

“Because it’s cheap,” Cass says, stepping up to the Keg and filling hers.

“Cheap,” I say. “Exactly.”

I don’t really like beer, but I’ll drink it. I’ll drink dish soap tonight if I have to just to numb the guilt and stress. I had every intention of telling Cass about the video, but the words won’t come out. I’ve searched a few times on my phone, and there still doesn’t seem to be anything about the source in any of the stories. Maybe…just maybe I’ll skate by.