Broken Beautiful Hearts(61)
“But if you don’t take a chance, you’ll never know.”
Cam walks beside me, shoulders hunched. “At least I won’t get my heart stomped.”
It’s a hard point to argue. I’m always surprised when I see people set themselves up to get hurt. They hold their hands over a fire, then they’re shocked when they get burned.
“Looks like Owen cooled off,” Cam says.
At the opposite end of the hallway, Owen leans against a bank of royal-blue lockers watching us.
“Should I be worried?” Cam asks.
“About what?”
“The fact that Owen Law is hanging out in the hall, waiting for my cousin.”
“He’s not waiting for me.” I’m not admitting it to Cam, but Owen does look like he’s waiting for someone. “He was probably at his locker when he saw us coming, so he waited. Isn’t that what a good Southern boy would do?”
“Yep.” Cam lowers his voice. “There’s just one problem with your theory.”
“What?”
“Owen’s locker is on the other side of the building.”
Without thinking, my eyes go straight to Owen. He’s looking right at me and he stands straighter as we walk toward him.
Owen says something to Cam, but I’m not paying attention. I’m thinking about what Cam just said.
Owen’s locker is on the other side of the building.
Suddenly, I’m the person holding out my hand. I see the fire, but I still want to hold my hand over the flames.
“I’ve gotta hit my locker before fifth period. Do you know how to get to your next class from here?” Cam asks.
I realize he’s talking to me.
“I’ll get her there if she doesn’t,” Owen says.
Cameron gives him a warning look.
“We’re just walking,” Owen says.
“Good to know.” Cam takes off.
Owen smiles at me.
It’s like there’s a little girl inside me, holding a bunch of yellow balloons, and she releases them to take flight inside my chest.
CHAPTER 25
Caught Up
WHEN I FINISH PT that afternoon, I return from the locker room freshly showered to find Owen pacing in front of the ring with his cell phone to his ear.
“Come on, Mom. Pick up.” Owen tugs at his hair like he’s trying to yank it out. “It’s bad enough that you’re ignoring my texts, but now you’re sending me straight to voice mail?” He stops pacing and leans against one of the ring’s padded corner posts with his arm above his head and his forehead pressed against the padding.
“Don’t do this, Mom. Please. Not tonight,” Owen begs. He hangs up and hurls his phone at the floor. It hits the concrete and explodes. “Shit!” He grips the ropes and shakes them, shoulders slumped, and hangs his head.
I walk over, watching his shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath. In the dimly lit gym, his black track pants and hoodie make him look like a shadow.
“Owen?” I say his name softly and touch his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
He takes one hand off the ropes and lays it on top of mine, curling his fingers around the side of my hand. He slides his thumb under my wrist, sending a ripple of shock waves up my arm.
“My mom is playing her trump card. She doesn’t want me fighting, and by the end of tonight, I won’t have a shot at the regional championship.”
“I need you to give me more than that. What did she do? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
Owen’s hand slides off mine and he turns to face me. The top of my head doesn’t even reach his shoulder. “You would help me?”
“It depends on what we’re talking about.”
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his touch gives me goose bumps.
“There’s nothing you can do, but knowing you’d help me means a lot.” Owen scrubs his hands over his face. “My mom was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago so I could drop her at home and use the car. The semifinals are tonight outside of Nashville. If I’m a no-show, I’m disqualified and I can’t fight in the finals.”
“What about Cutter? Can you ride with her?”
He shakes his head. “She’s meeting me there. UT has a big game on Friday night and they needed her at practice today. Even if I called her now, she wouldn’t make it back in time to pick me up.” He sounds defeated, and I understand. Getting disqualified without having a chance to compete isn’t something I could stomach, either. “Maybe I could ask your cousins for a ride when they come to get you?”
“They’re not picking me up today,” I say calmly. “Practice doesn’t end until seven, and Cam said it might run longer because we don’t have school tomorrow. So I drove myself.”
Owen’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since when do you have a car?”
I take out the keys and dangle them from my finger. “My uncle let me borrow a Jeep he’s working on.”
“You’ve gotta give me a ride, Peyton. I’ll do anything. I’ll pay you or carry your books for the rest of the year. Whatever you want. I just need a ride.”
“To a fight?” I take a step back.
Owen drops to his knees and steeples his hands. “Please.”