Waiting on the Sidelines (Waiting on the Sidelines #1)(36)

The stinging sensation on my cheek was warm, almost like a burn. My head was flung to the side and my hair was in my eyes. I didn’t see her arm coming at me, but the slap Tatum delivered to my face in the cold weather made a ringing sensation in my ear. So this is what it feels like to get slapped, I thought. And then there was spit. In my face.

I turned away in disgust and quickly wiped my face with my arms. A nearby coach from the other team came over and grabbed Tatum by the shoulders, moving her away from me. I heard yelling and Becky’s voice was nearby. Suddenly someone was wiping my face with a cloth. It burned. It burned so badly.

I opened my eyes and saw Sean frowning at me. I winced as he touched my cheek. “It’s going to bruise, Noles. I hate to tell you. What the hell? Are you ok? She went all ape shit on you!”

After everything, Sean was still there for me. I was grateful and hopeful that we’d still be friends. I couldn’t process what had just happened, but I knew my fellow runners were getting ready to move into their lanes.

“I, I … I have to run,” I said, handing him the cloth. “I’m OK, really,” I said, looking over Sean’s shoulder into Reed’s stunned eyes. He narrowed them and looked down and when his face came up again he was wearing an expression I’d never seen before. He looked cold. Furious.

I headed to my lane and readied myself for the race, stretching my legs and trying to ignore what was probably a beet red hand print on my face. I turned to see Reed standing in front of Tatum, his hands stretched out to either side of him, his voice raised. He looked livid. She was crying and he was yelling. When he finally tried to walk away, she ran after him and grabbed his arm. He brushed her off and said some words that I couldn’t make out, but I could tell they were cruel, even if deserved.



I came in third overall. It was maybe my best race. I channeled my anger, sadness, confusion and fury over getting slapped in front of everyone into my running. Becky waited for me at the finish line and didn’t leave my side until we were on the bus. She insisted I sit next to her, which was probably the best idea I’d been given all day.

As we settled in, Sean passed down the middle aisle and looked at me with sympathy. He moved on without saying a word. I hoped that in time things between us wouldn’t be awkward.

Reed was a few people behind him. I felt my heart speed up as he came closer to our seat. When he got to us, he stopped for a second. He didn’t make eye contact, but he threw his sweatshirt on my lap. “Keep it for the ride home. It’s going to be cold,” he said. He kept going to the back of the bus and took a seat across the aisle from Sean. I turned to see his feet dangle in the walkway as he sat sideways taking up the entire seat.

Tatum was the last to get on with her groupie friends. They all sat near the front, and huddled around her to console her. What lemmings, I thought.

The drive home seemed to take twice as long. I laughed to myself when we passed the point where I thought my warm-ups were probably strung along the highway. When we pulled into the school, I grabbed my bag in my lap and looked at Becky, shaking my head.

“I’m exhausted,” I said.

“Uh, yeah,” she laughed. “Hey, why don’t you come home with me tonight?”

I smiled. That sounded really nice. But I really just wanted to curl up in my own bed. I may throw myself a pity party. Or maybe not. But I just needed to stop my mind, slow things down. I could only do that in the comfort of my own home. “Thanks, but I’m soooo tired. I just want to go home and drop. I’d love a ride, though?”

She smiled and said no problem.



Becky dropped me off at my house at about 11 p.m. and I pulled the keys from my bag to unlock the door. Everyone was asleep, thank God. I didn’t really want to explain the hand on my face tonight.

I stripped my clothes and pulled on my cotton pajama pants and a T-shirt and climbed into bed. I laid there flat on my back staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of the last eight hours. When I rolled to my side I noticed Reed’s sweatshirt on the floor. I reached over and pulled it to me, hugging onto it. I closed my eyes and started to feel myself drifting when I heard the buzz of my phone.

I reached over to pull it from my night table and saw a text from Reed.



Why didn’t you tell me?



This was tricky. I stared at it for about five minutes before I decided honesty was my new path. Hiding things didn’t work out so well for me.



I was ashamed.



I waited for him to respond. He did instantly.



You have nothing to be ashamed of.



I waited again. He followed it up with more after a few minutes.



I’m so sorry, Nolan. I had no idea. Becky told me about your warm ups. About the eyebrow. You could have told me. I would have believed you.



I shrunk under my covers. I was so embarrassed. Becky knew about the eyebrow. And she told Reed.



I am so embarrassed.



Honesty. I was going to be honest. I waited.



Don’t be. You’re not the one who should be embarrassed. Tatum should be. And so should I, for ever going out with her.



I read his text a few times before responding.



Did you two fight over this?



I waited, knowing what I saw. I wanted details, but I didn’t want to be pushy. It took him about 15 minutes to write back again, and I was just about to give up when my phone buzzed.