A Cross-Country Christmas(34)

Lauren’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment at the reminder that he’d overheard her conversation with Maddie earlier.

“Or was it that I’m a really decent guy?” He mockingly put a finger on his chin and tapped, professor-like.

How much did he hear? The whole thing?!

His thumbs rhythmically drummed a beat on the steering wheel as he kept his eyes on the road. They were heading to the address Joe had given them for the best possible viewing of this torchlight parade—a ski resort nestled right into the mountains.

“It’s nice to know all the hard work in the gym is being admired.” He comically made a muscle. His teasing tone almost made her rethink what she was about to say, but it wasn’t in her nature to let anything go.

Why couldn’t she just let it go?

“It was about your baseball scholarship.”

Will fell silent.

Even in the waning light, she could see the color had drained from his face.

“I didn’t know you’d lost your scholarship,” she said. “Spencer never mentioned it.”

His tone changed. His whole demeanor changed. “I asked him not to tell anybody.”

“But, baseball was. . .Will, you were really good. Like, really good.”

Will sighed and glanced sideways at Lauren. “Thanks. I. . .” He shook his head, stopping mid-sentence. “I thought maybe Spence had told you. I figured that’s why you were so standoffish when we first started this trip. I can’t imagine what you must think of me. I mean, school was always so important to you, and you always did everything right.”

She frowned. She wouldn’t lie and say she’d had nothing against him when she absolutely did, but she could honestly say it had nothing to do with his scholarship.

“What happened?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

“I mean, if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I was just curious.”

Will looked at Lauren, as if deciding.

“Nosy. I’m being nosy. I’m sorry.”

“In. . .500 feet. . .turn left.” The GPS had impeccable timing. Will turned into a neighborhood lit by Christmas lights. Lauren stared up ahead, waiting for the ski resort to come into view.

“No, it’s fine,” he finally said. “I mean, I don’t go around publicizing it, but it’s my past, and I can’t change it. I only hope other people can learn from it.”

Lauren sat, quiet and unmoving.

“Uh. . .” His nervous laugh told her he was flustered.

How often was Will flustered?

He drew in a breath. “I don’t know how well you remember me from back then. We weren’t really in the same social circle.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said. “I went to prom with my cousin, remember?”

He laughed. “I think I relied on Spencer a lot more than I thought,” he said. “He kept me out of trouble.”

“He had to grow up a lot faster than he should’ve. He was the only adult in our house at the time.” She tried not to dwell there. Anger reared every time she thought about her parents and the way they’d behaved. Because of them, Lauren and Spencer had a stunted childhood, cut off long before they were ready. It was like getting thrown into the deep end of the pool with no floaties.

Start paddling or sink, your choice, kids.

Maybe that’s why sledding today had first scared, then exhilarated her. She’d missed out on those carefree kid days with no agenda and a singular purpose: fun.

“Well, I had two adults in my house,” Will said. “And I was still a mess. I got away from the stability, and I don’t know—I think maybe I was homesick and didn’t want to admit it, and the first friends I made apart from my teammates were guys on my floor who were into some pretty heavy partying.”

He pulled into a parking lot of the sprawling resort, bustling with activity as the locals and tourists alike prepared for what appeared to be a favorite event in El Muérdago. As much as Lauren wanted to know what a torchlight parade was, she wanted to know Will’s story even more.

He drove the SUV around the lot until he found a space in the corner. He parked but didn’t turn off the engine. Instead, he turned to face her.

“I’m really not proud of the guy I was back then.” He didn’t look away. “I was selfish and egotistical. I’d been heavily recruited by some of the best baseball programs in the country and ended up with a full ride at my top choice—a school that professional scouts paid a lot of attention to.”

“I remember that. There was a big press conference, right?” His signing day at that D1 university had garnered serious attention in Pleasant Valley. Lauren remembered watching it on TV and feeling simultaneously proud of him and heartbroken for herself. He was moving away—and she might not ever see him again.

“Yeah, it was surreal. I mean, I worked hard and felt I deserved it, but I also thought I was untouchable,” he said. “When I got on campus, I treated people. . .pretty badly. Like they weren’t important, or worse. . .like they were disposable. I skipped classes. I stayed out late every night. I was drunk more than I was sober. I started missing practices and tanking games and every time my coach would get on my case, I’d clean it up—but just enough to convince him I’d turned things around.”