Every Little Secret (Second Chances #2) (9 page)

The chair falls back when I shoot up from the table. I don’t have time to pick it up but grab my bag and practically race to the exit. The air has dropped in temperature. I keep walking, letting the sprinkling of rain hide my tears. It’s better I hurt him now and walk away, let him think I’m a bitch. That’ll get him running in the opposite direction.
 

But then he’s right there, next to me. “So, how about that walk?”
 

Exasperated, I swing my book bag that has fallen off my shoulder back in place. “Fine. Do you promise to leave me alone, then?”

“Definitely. As long as you at least talk with me, just a normal conversation. I promise I won’t ask any deep and philosophical questions.”
 

Somehow I don’t quite believe him, but I go with it. He’s given me an excuse to accept his offer, one that’s comfortable for me. I appreciate that and my heart melts a little bit more. As we walk along, he casually slips his hand into mine. It’s a nice, comfortable grasp as he takes the lead.
 

“Where are we going on this nice, short walk?” I emphasize the nice and short as the breeze shakes droplets of water from the trees above us. I squeal and dart forward, dragging him with me.

He laughs at my girlish behavior. “Don’t know. Just walking. We could end up anywhere.”
 

He leads me past the main academic buildings and the library, heading toward the athletic fields. I believe it when he says he’s just walking but it seems like he has a radar for the soccer fields, a place where he’s comfortable. I glance at the swollen cloud right above us. A stronger wind, warm with the promise of a downpour, ruffles my scarf.

“Um, maybe we should head back? Incoming rain?”
 

“Nah, we’ll make it. This is the best place to walk in the morning.” He grows thoughtful as we reach the edge of the fields. “Seeing the stretch of grass, empty and quiet.” He breathes deep, a sad sort of longing falling on him. “The smell of fall is in the air. It reminds me of being a kid when a big field was just an invitation to run and run and run.”
 

I huff. “Smells like rain to me.”
 

He slides my book bag off my shoulder. “You up for it?” A mischievous, excited smile takes hold of him. It lights up his entire face, showing a vulnerable side to him that he rarely shows.

I can’t help but back up a few steps. “What do you mean? Up for what?”

He grins. “Running. Straight across the field.”
 

“No way.” I grab for the strap of my book bag but he jerks it out of my grasp.
 

“I’m serious.” He turns his gaze to the field in front of us. The grass is cut short, the smell of it still lingering. “Don’t you ever just want to run?”

I snort. “No.”

He leans over and unties his shoes, slipping them off and taking off his socks. “In bare feet, too. It’s the only way.”

“I said, no!”

“I promise, once you do it, you’ll remember what you loved about it as a kid.” Then he crouches and unzips my boots.

“You make a lot of promises.”

He stands up, his gaze on me, sending my stomach into a flutter. “I promise you’ll feel better.”

“Fine. But then can we go back? We’re running out of time.”

He tags me. “You’re it!” He takes off across the field.

“No fair!” I shout.
 

I sprint after him, the feel of the damp grass cool on my feet. He runs like the wind in sharp zigzags. I feel dizzy just watching him. I try and cut him off at an angle but he changes direction into a full-out sprint straight to the goal on the other side.
 

“Come on!” he yells over his shoulder. “Go for it!”

Hoping he’ll never make me do something like this again, I go all out. The wind lashes through my hair and blows the ends of my scarf around. My legs burn and a stitch cramps my side, but I’m determined to make it. I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the combination of the wind and the fact that letting go in one area, frees up other areas. The cares and worries of my life fall off bit by bit as I run all out, faster than I’ve run in years.

He’s at the end, leaning against the goal post, cocky and sure of himself. I tackle him and we land in a heap, a tangle of arms and legs. “You’re it,” I gasp.

We untangle and lay on our backs, our breaths short puffs of air that the wind snatches right away. He was right. It felt good. A drop of rain lands on my nose.

“Gosh,” he says, “I think we’d better get back. Looks like rain.”

I slap his arm, laughing. The splatter turns into steady, light rain. “Oh, my God. We’re going to have to run back.”

He jumps up and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go.”
 

We jog back across the field and slide on our shoes. He grabs my hand again and we head back in a fast walk down the trodden paths. I sense the man besides me, his desire for love and happiness, his willingness to put his trust in me. Other than a short race across a field, I fear I’ll disappoint him. I’d rather him remember this moment, instead of delving into the crazy that is my life. The words lay heavy on my heart because I think he’s hoping for more.

Before I can say anything, the clouds burst open, the rain pelting our bodies. We sprint through campus. The outside turns into one big blur as students race to their next class or into the nearest building.

The rain seeps into my clothes and into my skin. I shiver. I run back to my dorm for a change of clothes and an umbrella. He follows. Almost there, I stumble over tufts of grass. Outside the door to my dorm, Noah grabs my arm and whirls me around. We both stand there, shaking, breathing heavily. The emotion pulses between us. I’m desperate to escape it.

“You broke your promise!” I tease. “You said it wouldn’t rain.”
 

“Sorry. I’m not perfect.” He smiles and it reaches into my heart, urging me to fall for him.
 

Then I remember he didn’t call for two days, leaving me waiting, wondering. Is that something he does often? The last of the exhilaration fades as the cold settles on me.

“What’s wrong?” he yells above the crack of thunder.

“I’m not good for you, Noah. Go find someone who’ll make you happy and not screw with your heart. Some nice little girl from a normal family.”

He pushes me up against the building. The hard bricks rubbing through the thin material of my shirt. He rests his hands on either side of my face, inches away from me. My breath hitches.

His face softens and he backs away. “Hey,” he says. “You let me be the judge of that.”
 

For one second, I want to trust him, give into his kind words, his trusting smile. Give myself over to what could be an incredible relationship if given the chance. That’s all we need. A chance.

I duck under his arms before I give into the urge to kiss him. I push open the door. “Sorry, Noah. Not today.” Then I let it slam behind me, safe inside my dorm, knowing that would send him running for good. I should feel relieved but instead I’ve never felt worse, the empty hole inside growing bigger and pulling me down.

Noah

The anticipation starts in my stomach and rises up through my chest. I find myself out of breath as I shower and then choke down breakfast. I’ve never done anything as crazy as I have planned for today. But it’ll take something crazy to reach Carly, to pry open the edges of her heart. After catching a glimpse of the real Carly as she sprinted in the rain yesterday, laughing, I want to see that again.

On the drive over I can’t stay still. My fingers tap the wheel. I fiddle with the radio stations until I jab at the knob, turning it off. Before I know it, I’m parked outside her dorm. I hold onto two words. The last two words Carly said to me before she slipped into her dorm building and the door closed.
 

Not today.

She said nothing about tomorrow. Or the next day. Outside, I lean against my car. I send a series of texts.

Me
:
Ready for some fun, secret friend
?

Me
:
I’m just outside
.

Me
:
It’s your choice
.

Me
:
No pressure
.

Me
:
Just me and you and fun
.
 

Me
:
And maybe some ice cream
.

I wait and wait and wait. After the last text, I wonder if I’m making a complete ass out of myself. She might not even be in her room.

Me
:
If it’s not today, I’ll come back tomorrow and the next day and the next
.

I think I would, anyway. Not sure I can take that much rejection.

My phone vibrates.

Carly
:
After our day at the beach I didn’t hear from you for two days. Are you sure you want this
?

Oh my God. I can’t believe that she was looking to hear from me. Frantically, I text back before she signs off and ignores me.

Me
:
I was trying to give you space. I didn’t want to overdo it
.

And then nothing. The texts stop. I wait a few minutes, which feel like hours, with my eyes not leaving the door. Finally, with a sigh, I climb back in the front seat. I turn the key and the engine comes to life. This time I blast the radio, blocking out my humiliation, mad at my careful planning that exploded in flames.
 

As I pull out, I check the rearview mirror. Carly stands at the curb, waving. I screech and throw the car into reverse. Once the car is even with her, I roll down the passenger window.
 

“Looking for a ride, beautiful?”

She leans her elbows on the window, her long dark hair cascading into my car and the scent of her perfume washing over me. A light, happy feeling fills my chest. Then I find her eyes, dark and careful, questioning me.

I hide my nerves. “I happen to know of the best kept secret this side of the country. The best ice cream with any flavor you could imagine,” I say, my mouth going dry, like some nervous schoolboy.

She shivers. “It’s kind of cold.”
 

“Nah.” I wave my hand. “Ice cream is cold on the outside but warms the soul.”
 

She hesitates, her eyes searching mine as if she’s pleading with me not to hurt her. “Fine. But the ice cream better be good.”

Thirty minutes later, after a rather awkward car drive, we pull into Hannigan’s Farm Ice Cream Parlor. I want to get back a little bit of what we experienced yesterday, but today, she seems to have all guards up. “Wait just a second.”
 

I run over to her side and open the door. I offer my hand but she doesn’t take it. “We’re friends, remember?” Then she softens her words. “But thanks anyway.”
 

I don’t dare take her hand as we walk up the stone path. Something shifted between us, and the easy casual banter we usually have is gone. Shit. I’ve been away from this scene so long that I forget that if you like a girl, she needs to be reminded. And I have a feeling Carly needs that and a little bit more.
 

When I open the door, a bell rings above us and warm air welcomes us. She tugs her coat closer around her as if to protect herself. I flash her a smile but she barely smiles back. I lead the way to the counter, welcoming the worn wood floors, the post and beam structure and the familiar smells of some kind of nutty coffee. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.

She orders a strawberry. Nothing else. Not even sprinkles or sauce.

“Plain strawberry?” I gasp in fake shock and point to the list of kinds. “There are a gazillion flavors like Cookie Monster Crumble and Triple Oreo Delight.”

She gives me a pointed look. “Sometimes simple is best. I don’t need the razzle dazzle flavors to love ice cream.”

I cough and frown in a pretend serious look. “Quite right. Quite right.” But I don’t even get a hint of a laugh from her. I turn away. This is going to be harder than I thought. “Inside or outside?”
 

“Inside.”

We find a table on the far side next to a large glass window that overlooks a portion of their fields. I start into a long explanation of the history of the farm and how it’s a third generation business but I notice her gaze wandering and her interest waning. I conclude my lecture.

She doesn’t pick up the thread of conversation or offer anything new.

“How are classes going?” I ask, anxious to fill the awkward silence and get past this hurdle.

“Fine. Even though I was late to one yesterday.” She doesn’t crack a smile but I sense the jest behind her words.

“Well, sometimes, there are other priorities.” I fall silent. I think back that it hurt her feelings when I didn’t call for two days. I want to be able to ramble off a list of things that kept me busy that would explain why I didn’t call but I have nothing. I did study but I spent a lot of time on my butt thinking about her and scared shitless of a real relationship. And trying to forget about the last time I trusted a girl. Then it hits me.

She’s just as scared as me. That’s why she has the walls up, freezing me out. I hurt her. When I didn’t contact her for two days, which to a girl is probably more like two weeks, she took it as if I didn’t care enough, not that I might be scared.

I grab her hand. Her eyes shoot up toward mine.
 

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you all week. It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

It’s my chance to explain everything about Dalia and the scandal, because not many people know about it. Carly is just enough years behind me that she might not know the details. Hell, she couldn’t know or she wouldn’t be with me. But if I risk telling her, I might lose her anyway. I falter.

She sighs. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go. I’m done.”
 

I drive home, miserable, unable to explain and tell her what she needs to hear for her to trust me.

***

Dalia pulls me into the shadows. The party rocks on inside and every once in a while someone stumbles in and out of the door. They don’t even see us. I lean into her, my face pressed against her hair and her intoxicating smell. All our times in the janitor closet at school return and suddenly I’m more than ready.