Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(27)

“Don’t downplay yourself for anyone.”

Her gaze holds mine, unblinking, amber eyes intense. And I want to say more—to tell her something else to make her keep looking at me like this. Like I’m someone to her. It’s so intense, and happens so quickly, a trickle of fear skates down my spine.

I cough to clear my throat, effectively breaking the moment between us. I’m a coward.

“Tonight. Eight,” I say.

“Right.” She nods. “You better go. I think Vee and Haley are sick of standing around.”

I give her a wink before I take off toward my own table. I’ve missed lunch, which my stomach will punish me for later, but it’s a small price to pay for getting the girl of my daily torment to alleviate my suffering.

I give Gavin a quick wave as I pass by. “I’m heading to class early. Have makeup work.”

“Dude!” He’s on his feet. “That’s wrong, man. I want details later. Did you talk to her about the—” He stops short and looks around. “The underwear shit?” he hisses in my direction.

I chuckle, just giving him another wave. “Later.”

I hear his loud, annoyed groan as I breeze past. A full smile breaks across my face.

I promised the guys that I’d have a “word” with Ari. Offering her their apologies and in return getting her to drop her attack. It’s not that they’re afraid of a girl—though I don’t doubt some of them are—but rather they understand that I’ll make them follow through with whatever punishment she dishes out.

But I don’t feel like assuaging Gavin’s panic at the moment. I’ve had writer’s block for the past couple of weeks, Professor Collins telling me to “dig deeper” and write through the block. Find something that resonates.

And today, now, I have the overpowering urge to get down the ideas filling my head. It’s like they’re going to split my skull if I don’t let them out. I thought for a long time that the story would be about my father. And football. Football and my dad and my life flitting between the both. Some kind of memoir I’d dedicate to him. Well, after I finished with the pros. But that story never actually took root. Me feeling like I somehow failed my dad all over again.

Because in the end, I think, the story has to be mine. And though football covers one aspect of my life—a huge one—it’s not the whole of me.

With a sideways glance, I spot Ari scrolling through her phone, her friends talking around her. A quick realization flickers above the many thoughts crowding my head.

I want to tell a different story. Maybe even live it.

As I head down the hallway toward my writing class, hesitance and resignation slow my steps. I’m not really in a hurry to get there any more.

I never thought I’d fear actually figuring it out—because ultimately, I’d just keep plodding along, the dream of what I’d do after football always just out of reach. Too far away. And I was fine with that. Until now.





13





Ari





“Oh, crap.” I’m throwing clothes around the room, angry with myself for being so out of it lately, for forgetting.

“Ari, just relax.” Vee plunks down on her bed and proceeds to peel a layer from her cinnamon roll and pop it into her mouth. My belly twists, a queasiness coating my stomach lining.

I haven’t eaten anything since lunch—and even then, I pushed aside my tray after Ryder’s invasion, having only taken a few bites of dry salad and toast. Subconsciously, I was aware of tonight, my body on high alert, even if my brain wasn’t keeping up.

“Ugh, where is it?” I’m practically growling. “I can’t believe I forgot about tonight. Why didn’t Becca call me, like she always does? She never misses a beat to wear me out.” I straighten my back and drop the hamper to the floor. Giving up, utterly. “It’s like she did it on purpose.”

“So what. Eff your stepmom.” Vee sits up, crossing her legs underneath her. “You said she was having some gown made, right? Just go on over and let her doll you up. Or”—she bounds up and comes toward me with a devilish glint in her eyes—“you could blow off the rents and go out with Ryder, instead.” She cocks her head, challenging.

“Right. Because my family wouldn’t make me pay dearly for that disgrace.”

Vee shrugs and tosses the last bite of roll into her mouth. “You only live once, A,” she says around a mouthful.

I look up at the ceiling and release a heavy breath, my constricted chest heavy. Vee’s words remind me so much of what Mel would say in this moment. Maybe it’s good advice. Maybe for once telling my father and Becca where they can stick their pretentious ways would feel damn good.

Only the knowledge of what I’d suffer during the aftermath stops me. It’s not worth the headache.

Or the fallout.

Normally, a charity function wouldn’t be so critical for my father. But with him trying to rebound his reputation from the recent tarnishing, I’m expected to support him publically. Upstanding children—who will probably marry one of their sons—matter to this crowd.

I have to be at my best.

“At least I have his number,” I say, going right for my nightstand table. I pick up my iPhone and tap the message icon. The last text I sent was to Ryder. “I’ll just tell him it’s off. For now.”