Claire (Hart University Book 2) (18 page)

Once dinner was over, we all helped with the cleanup. When everything was mostly done and there were just a few dishes left to wash, people started to drift into the living room until it was down to just me and Sam.

I liked Sam a lot but the two of us never hung out together outside of group things. As I washed the last of the glasses and Sam finished putting the dishes in the cabinets, I wondered if there was something I should be asking him about. A particular class? Some kind of sculpture thing he was doing? I knew he liked basketball. Was he on an intramural team?

“Hey, Will?”

I almost dropped the glass I was holding. “Yeah?”

Sam closed the cabinet door and leaned back against the counter, his hands in his jeans pockets. “So, this is none of my business.”

Uh oh.

“Yeah?”

“But at dinner, I noticed the way you were looking at Claire.”

I stared at him. The fact that Sam and I weren’t that close made it worse. If he’d noticed, probably everyone had.

“I don’t think anybody else saw what I did,” he went on. “But last year when I was losing my mind over Rikki, the face I saw in the mirror was the face you’ve got now.”

I didn’t know what to say. Should I deny it? Not for my sake, but for Claire’s? I was one hundred percent sure she didn’t want anyone to know what we’d done last night, and since she wanted to stay single, I didn’t think she’d want me sharing all the details of my feelings or whatever.

Sam went on. “The only reason I’m even saying anything is that the situation with Rikki had me pretty messed up last year. It only got better after I told her how I felt. I know you’re having a bad time right now, and if you’re into Claire and not telling her, I think that could make things worse. Or at least harder.” He shrugged. “For what it’s worth.”

I frowned down at the floor. After a moment Sam said, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I pissed you off by bringing it up. Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

He started to head out and I made a decision.

“Hold up,” I said.

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“You’re not wrong. I am into Claire. But it can’t happen right now.”

Sam studied me for a second. “You’re not happy about that.”

“It’s not just that. I mean no, I’m not happy about it. But the thing is… before all this football shit happened… I could see us being together when the time was right, you know? And I knew it would be perfect. But now…”

I wasn’t sure exactly what I was trying to say, but Sam seemed to get it.

“I know what that feels like. If I tell you something about me and Rikki, can you keep it to yourself?”

I nodded.

“We were both virgins when we got to Hart. We went to the same high school, and I’d been in love with her a long time. When we started getting closer last year I thought it was meant to be. Like we were supposed to have our first time together and it would be perfect.” He looked rueful. “Then I screwed it up. One night when it seemed like things with Rikki were never going to happen, I hooked up with a girl I didn’t even know.” He shook his head. “That was my first time. Right after it happened, Rikki and I finally told each other how we felt. She said she was so glad our first time would be with each other.”

I knew what was coming next. Everyone knew this part of the story.

“I was planning to tell her the truth, but someone told her before I could. Maybe you know what happened with Jason?”

Jason used to be in Claire’s band, and he’d been into Rikki last year. Someone had sent him a pic of Sam with the other girl, and Jason had shown it to Rikki.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“That blew everything up between me and Rikki, and I hated myself for weeks. How could I have done that? Everything could have been so perfect if I hadn’t fucked it all up.” He paused. “But then I figured out that things don’t have to be perfect. If you screw up, it doesn’t mean you can’t try to fix it. So I did, and Rikki and I got together.” A slow smile spread across his face. “We’ve been together for a year, and it’s not perfect. But it’s so much better than I ever imagined… even though nothing happened like I thought it would.”

I thought about what Sam had said for the rest of the night. We were all hanging out in the living room, recovering from the huge dinner we’d eaten. I’d built a fire, and now I was lying on the rug in front of it with my arms behind my head.

The mood was mellow. Claire must have told Andre that the intervention had been successful, because we didn’t talk about any of my issues—thank God. The conversation had been all over the map, and a couple of times I’d laughed so hard it hurt.

It felt good to laugh with my friends again.

Tamsin and Julia decided to stay the night here. They would drive back with me and Claire in the morning, while everyone else would go back tonight in the van. It was after eleven o’clock and Andre said something about leaving before midnight, but we were all sprawled around in post-turkey contentment and no one seemed eager to move.

The athletes had zeroed in on the single ladies—Tamsin, Julia, Dyshell, and Claire—and were explaining the differences between the NCAA football and basketball championships. They’d already participated in Tamsin and Dyshell’s How Badass is Beyoncé discussion, so they probably felt entitled to a little sports talk.

Claire was sitting on the couch with her legs curled under her, her head resting on Dyshell’s shoulder. Her eyes were drifting closed, which meant I could stare at her without worrying that she’d catch me.

The few times our eyes had met at dinner, it had been like fireworks going off in my heart.

Yeah, I had it bad.

Claire might not have it as bad as me, but from the way her cheeks turned red whenever we looked at each other, I knew she was thinking about last night.

I’d done plenty of thinking about that, too. But right now, watching Claire fall asleep, I wasn’t thinking about sex.

I was thinking about a future with the girl I loved.

Talking with Sam had shifted something inside me. I no longer felt like I’d ruined everything by getting myself concussed and acting like an asshole for weeks and sleeping with Claire too soon. I realized that I couldn’t change anything that had already happened, and that I couldn’t control what Claire was thinking or feeling.

Not that I’d ever want to.

But I could control myself, and I could make changes in my own life. Right now, I wasn’t the guy Claire deserved. And while I knew I would never be perfect, I could be better.

I wanted to be better.

I realized something else, too, sitting in a roomful of friends who’d sacrificed family plans to spend Thanksgiving with me after I’d blown off my own family.

They were right and I was wrong.

There was more to my life than football. Some things I knew about already; others I still had to figure out.

I scrambled to my feet and went upstairs for a little privacy. Then I called my house.

“Will! I’m so glad you called. Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“That’s all right. Did you get any turkey?”

It was just like her to sound sweet and cheerful and to give me a pass on the way I’d been acting lately… and the way I’d been blowing her off.

“Yeah, I did. My friends ended up buying all this food and cooking a huge dinner.”

“That sounds lovely. And you had a good time?”

“Yeah. But that’s not why I called.”

I hesitated for a moment, and my mom didn’t rush to fill the silence. That’s another thing I love about her.

“So, you know how you said you weren’t going to let me get a second opinion or transfer to another school?”

“Yes.”

“I just wanted to say that I get where you’re coming from. I’m thinking about what you said. And… I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

Pause.

“Oh, Will.”

“Mom, are you crying? If you are, cut it out. Go get Alex, will you? I need to apologize to him, too.”

“I’m walking the phone downstairs now. Oh, Will, I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you, too, Mom.”

After I hung up with Alex I went back downstairs. People were starting to get ready to go, and Claire was still asleep on the couch.

Dyshell looked up when I walked over. “Would you mind taking over for me as pillow? I need to use the bathroom before we take off.”

“Sure,” I said, taking Dyshell’s place and letting Claire curl up against me.

There was nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.

Claire wanted to be single for a while to focus on herself. I needed to do that, too. I needed some time to figure out the next phase of my life.

And then?

Then we’d see.

I wasn’t going to pressure Claire to be with me, but I wasn’t going to give up, either. And I was going to be the best damn friend I could, because that’s what she deserved—and because I wanted her in my life any way I could have her.

If friendship was what we ended up with, I’d take it and be grateful.

But when the time was right, I’d let Claire know I wanted a hell of a lot more.

Chapter Twenty-One

The next few months were pretty good.

I didn’t see much of Will in December, but we were both busy with finals. He pulled himself together and aced most of his, which made me really happy. Then, of course, came Christmas and winter break.

During the week between Christmas and New Year, Will and I got into the habit of texting every night. Nothing sexy or even flirtatious—just friend stuff, sometimes funny and sometimes serious.

It was the best part of my day.

When we came back to Hart in January, Will was in a really good place. He enrolled in a journalism class and did a few pieces on college athletics for the Hart Star, and when one of his articles got some national attention, he started talking about being a sports writer.

I was in a good place, too. I liked my classes and my songwriting was going well, and the band was sounding sharper and tighter every day.

“We need an original love song from you,” was their only complaint.

We covered some romantic ballads in our regular set list, but I hadn’t contributed anything of my own on that theme. I’d written a bunch of angry post-breakup songs, along with a few cynical love sucks-type tunes, but I hadn’t ventured into the positive side of romance since before my breakup with Ted.

Well, except for a song I’d been working on since Thanksgiving. A song I had no intention of ever sharing with anyone.

Will and I started hanging out a lot once the new semester started. He was always the person I wanted to share good news with, and the person I wanted to comfort me if I had a shitty day. We still texted every night before bed.

It seemed like we were building towards something—something really good. I started waiting for Will to bring it up, to talk about moving our relationship forward.

But the days went by and nothing happened.

Then it was February, and my dad and Jenna came to Hart for a visit. My dad made dinner reservations and told me to invite a friend, and Will was the one I picked.

He showed up at the restaurant in a jacket and tie.

“What’s all this?” I asked, waving my hand at his suit while we followed my dad and Jenna inside.

“I want your folks to like me,” he said with a grin.

They didn’t like him.

They loved him.

“Claire told us about the article you wrote for your school newspaper,” my dad said over dessert. “About college athletes and concussion?”

Will nodded. “Claire helped me with the medical research. She’s going to be an amazing doctor.”

My dad looked pleased by that. “She said the article was reprinted in student papers around the country.”

Will nodded again. “The NCAA is taking a look at their concussion guidelines. I’m going to be part of a student group that will talk to them this spring. I’m not sure what the right answer is to the concussion problem, but I know we have to be asking more questions.”

“Well,” my dad said. “I think student athletes will have a good advocate in you.”

It was the best dinner-with-the-parents ever. Every girl’s dream of the perfect first meeting between her boyfriend and her family.

Except, of course, that Will wasn’t my boyfriend.

“Are you coming to Boston tomorrow?” Jenna asked. “To see Claire’s band?”

That was the reason my dad and Jenna were in town. The Red Mollies were doing an east coast tour, and they were playing a Boston club tomorrow night.

Sugar Lane was opening for them.

It was our biggest gig ever. My dad was going to be there, and most of my Bracton friends—including Will.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said now. “I love seeing Claire perform. She’s electric.”

Now it was Jenna’s turn to look pleased. “Yes, she is.”

I was starting to feel embarrassed. “I’m not electric.”

Will frowned. “Are you kidding?”

I shrugged. “Even if I am, that’s just my musical persona or whatever. It’s easy to be all kickass when it’s just an act.”

Jenna started to say something, but Will got there first.

“Or maybe that’s who you really are, and you just need to let yourself be that person in the rest of your life.”

There was a short silence. Then:

“
Thank
you,” Jenna said to him. “That’s what I’ve been telling her.”

Yeah, he hit that dinner out of the park.

“Tell me again why you two aren’t dating?” Jenna asked me when we went to the restroom.

I didn’t have an answer for her.

The truth was, I’d been waiting for Will to make a move. To say,
The time has come. Let us be boyfriend and girlfriend and ride off into the sunset.

But he didn’t.

I started to worry that our window of opportunity had closed. I’d felt good about my decision to stay single last semester, but now that Will was doing so great and I felt ready to be part of a couple—to be with Will—I wasn’t sure he felt the same way anymore.

Of course that had been the risk all along. Sometimes people don’t sync up, Will had said.

Maybe we would never sync up. Maybe we were meant to stay friends.