Chaos and Control(58)

“How’s it going?”

Angela spins and leans against the sink. “Umm, it’s as good as a first date can be, awkward conversation included. I mean, you assume that the guy you’ve always crushed on probably has some kind of terrible flaw or that he’s a jerk—a third nipple maybe. But Sawyer? He seems legit, pretty transparent. I don’t know about that nipple thing yet, though. Is it weird to be talking about this with you?”

I laugh and lean against the sink next to her, bumping her shoulder with my own. “It’s cool. Who do you think told him to ask you out?”

Her head whips toward me. “You?” I nod. “Well, thanks for that. I doubt I would have ever grown the balls.”

“Eww. Don’t grow balls. Then Sawyer will definitely not be interested.”

Angela laughs and drops her lip gloss back into her purse.

“Men are sometimes blind to good things right in front of them,” I say. I wash my hands before drying them on the seat of my shorts. “They just need a little nudge.”

Her smile is grateful, and I can’t help but return it. “Thanks for nudging, Wren.”

I pull the door open. “No problem. And by the way, there’s no third nipple.” Her laugh carries through the room and out the door before it closes behind me.

Coach and I close and clean up, both of us dead tired and ready to go. After a busy night, it’s nearly two thirty before I turn off the outside sign and exit through the front doors. Preston waits in his usual place, but tonight he’s not writing in his notebook. Instead, the screen of his phone lights up his pretty face in a silver-blue glow.

“Ready?” I ask.

Preston tucks his phone away and nods. “Yes. I’m exhausted.”

I can tell he’s freshly showered, though somehow he still smells like wood. That, mixed with his usual scent, makes me inhale deeper.

“I saw your ex leaving earlier,” Preston says as we walk side-by-side.

“Then you also saw Angela leaving with him.”

“I did. That was a nice thing you did, setting them up.”

“Eh. It was a little selfish, too. I knew Sawyer would keep pursuing me. He’s very persistent. I’m not available, so I had to distract him.”

Preston turns toward me, his pretty lips volleying between a smirk and frown. “Are you not available?”

“Not to him.”

The smirk wins out. “Noted. So, what are we doing, Wren?”

“We’re walking home,” I say, pointing to the empty road ahead of us.

“No. I mean, this…relationship. I know I’ve asked you before, and I know you don’t like labels, but I feel like things have changed between us. What is this?”

“I don’t know. I like you. What do you want it to be?”

He stops walking and reaches for my hand. We’re in between streetlights, so in the gray darkness, I can barely see his eyes searching mine.

“There’s the answer I want to give, and there’s the answer I think you can handle.”

“Maybe you underestimate me.”

He nods. “Maybe so.”

“Give it to me straight.”

“I want us to be a great love story, something this town talks about for years.”

My hand presses to my chest in an effort to calm my racing heart as I suck in a lungful of night air. I blink at him, truly stunned by Preston’s confession. This boy and his words undo me a little more every day. His eyes continue to search mine, gauging me for a reaction. Once again, Preston has put himself out there, made himself vulnerable, and I sit speechless. In a moment of clarity, I realize that his statement scares me, but my heart wants it to come true.

“Wow,” I say.

“Wow?”

“I’m not a poet like you, Preston. I don’t have words like that to tell you how I feel. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel that way.”

He brings our clasped hands to his face and places six kisses on the inside of each wrist. Technically, it is Saturday.

“I don’t need words, Wren. Your smile is enough.”





I never knew rage

There were flits of anger Bouts of opposition

Never this beast

It is a comic-book villain Swelling, thrashing, tearing Out of my skin

This coward who hurt her

With fists and accusations Means to come again

All the constant

Turmoil in my brain quieted As silence spills

Over and kills compulsions

With its poison

There is nothing but rage All-consuming flits and bouts Swelling and thrashing rage And with a protective vow I see she feels safe

Though fear is what I fear most I want to be the hero of her story But am the coward of my own - Preston





Chapter Eighteen


Warpaint


Late Sunday morning, I find Bennie still in her robe.

“Let’s go to the lake again. I’ll see if Preston wants to go, too.”

She gives me a sideways glance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel. You two go and have a good time.”

I plop down next to Bennie and throw my arm around her shoulders. “You wouldn’t be a third wheel. Besides, how many times was I a third wheel on your dates with Joey Holaway?”