Wild Cards
Page 19

Umm . . . “No. What’s your sister’s type?”
She wipes her eyes and holds in her giggles. “She likes guys who are serious and dedicated and driven. That’s not you at all.”
Nope, that’s not me. And no girl is going to turn me around, especially one who likes guys who are serious and dedicated and driven. Ashtyn and I would never work.
Even if I did want to get tangled up in the sheets with her last night.
Chapter 24
Ashtyn
After my run with Falkor this morning, I go into Derek’s room to check up on him. Bree is there, sitting next to him on the bed. If that vision wasn’t enough to make me feel ill, Bree is feeding him cookies. She’s got her hand poised over his mouth as he opens it like a baby bird about to be fed by its mother.
“Hey, Ash,” Bree says when she notices me. “I just came to make sure Derek was going to survive. I made him carob and wheat germ cookies because you told me he likes to eat healthy.”
“That’s so . . . cute.”
“I know, right?” She feeds him another cookie. He’s all too happy to munch on it while she reaches into the container for another one. “Have fun at practice today.”
I wave bye, knowing that I have no right to be upset that Bree has taken my place at his bedside and wants to stay there permanently. The thing with Bree is that she’ll be happy with whatever attention Derek gives her. If he suddenly gets tired of the relationship, she won’t be devastated. She’ll start crushing on someone else right away.
My emotions don’t work that way, which makes me realize that Landon and I were over long before it ended.
Landon. I have to break the news about him to my teammates sooner rather than later. I’m not looking forward to it, but it has to be done. During practice, I pull Trey, Jet, and Victor aside when Dieter orders a water break.
These guys are my friends and teammates, guys I never want to let down. But they deserve to know the truth.
“What’s up, Capt’n?” Jet holds up a water bottle and squirts water into his mouth.
If they only knew beforehand that voting me captain would make Landon quit the team, they’d have changed their votes. All the guys would’ve made sure Landon got to be captain. I’m finding it hard to ask how they’d feel if I turned down the captain position and offered it to Landon to lure him back to Fremont.
“You know Landon lives on the dividing line between Fremont and Fairfield, right?”
Victor pats me on the back. “We know he’s transferring, Ash.”
What? “You knew?”
They all acknowledge that they know about it, too.
“Since when?”
Jet and Trey both look at Victor. “My dad found out over the weekend,” Vic says. “One of the assistant coaches does business with my dad, and he told him the news. Dieter knows, too. We were kind of waiting for him to break the news to you so we didn’t have to.”
I don’t know if that makes them good friends or bad ones. At this point, I don’t trust anything that comes out of anyone’s mouth.
When I get home, my dad is watching television in the living room. “Dad, I need to talk to you about football camp.”
He lowers the volume. “What about it?”
“You know Landon and I were supposed to drive together in his car, but plans changed. He’s going on his own. I don’t have anyone else to go with and I know my car won’t make it, so I was thinking that maybe you could drive me in your car or let me borrow it.” I’m hoping he’ll feel sympathetic enough to help me out.
“I can’t. I’ve got to work. Find some other friends to go with, or don’t go.” He turns the volume back up. “It’s already costing me a fortune for the tuition, and it’s only one damn week. I’ll be more than happy to get my money back.”
“I want to go.” I need to go.
He holds his hands up. “Then figure it out. You know I think heading off to Texas in an attempt to get noticed by scouts is a waste of time. If you think you’re going to be scouted and get a scholarship, think again. They don’t recruit girls.”
“Katie Calhoun got recruited. She’s a girl.”
“Katie Calhoun is probably going to be cut or hurt her first season. Mark my words,” he says.
I call Monika, but she’s taking summer school and can’t make it. I call Bree, but her acting agent just booked her for a short film they’re filming in Chicago this summer, so she’s out. Trey has to work to save money for college, Jet has to stay home to help his dad open a new restaurant, and Victor’s dad threatened to cut him off if he left town.
Everything right now seems hopeless.
Four days later I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to get to football camp when someone knocks on my bedroom door. “It’s Derek. Open up.”
I open the door and stand there looking at a very annoyed teenage boy. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“You.”
“What about me?”
He throws his hands up in the air. “You’re no fun to live with anymore. What happened to the girl who used to make fun of my smoothies and called me a thug? What happened with the girl who yawned when I took my shirt off when she was in bed with me?”
“I wasn’t in bed with you. I was cleaning your wounds.”
“I mean, c’mon, we set up a routine and now you’re breakin’ the rules. What’s up with that?”
“You’re mad because we’re not arguing or butting heads?” I ask, completely confused at why he’d care if I paid him a lick of attention or not. We argue most of the time, so what’s the big deal? Bree’s been hanging around him all week while I’ve walked around completely depressed.
“Did you even realize that I’ve been takin’ your damn dog for walks all week and he’s been sleepin’ in my room every night? Seriously, Ashtyn, I bet my left nut you wouldn’t even notice if I changed his name to Duke.”
“Your left nut?” I ask. “Why not your right one? Guys never say they’ll bet their right nut, only their left. Why is that?”
“Because all guys know their right nut is the dominant one, so bettin’ the left one is a safe choice. Now don’t change the subject and answer my question.”
That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I try to contain my amusement, but a laugh escapes my mouth. “You really believe your right nut is dominant? You’re kidding me, right?”
He doesn’t look amused. “Answer the question.”
I throw my hands up. “Give me a break, Derek. Can’t I be depressed?”
“About what?”
You. Football. Everything. I want to tell him the truth, but instead say, “None of your business.”
“Well, fine. You’ve had a few days since you and Landon broke up,” he says, agitation and annoyance in his voice. “Snap out of it already, it’s annoyin’.”
“How about if I snap out of it when you read that letter from your grandmother.” There, that should get him off my back and divert his attention for the moment. Derek makes an about-face, heading back down the stairs. I follow him. “You’re not about to get off that easy, Derek. You just want me to entertain you so you don’t have to think about that letter. But not reading it is eating you inside, isn’t it?”
“Nope, not even one little bit,” he says. “I haven’t thought about that letter or my grandmother at all.”
“Liar. You want a challenge, I just gave you one.”
Derek almost trips over Falkor on the way to his room. “Talkin’ about my grandmother or that letter is off-limits. Seriously, Ashtyn, I’m not goin’ there. You have no clue what that woman is capable of.”
“Why are you afraid of an old lady?”
“I’m not afraid.” He tries to laugh it off, but I don’t buy it for a second.
“You’re acting like you are. She wants you to come see her before she dies, Derek. You need to go. She knows she made mistakes.”
“You’re talkin’ like you know the old hag,” he says as he opens the container of carob cookies that Bree made him. He takes one bite of Bree’s cookies and winces as if they’re made from dirt. “You know nothin’ about her. You read that letter and think she’s a poor, dyin’ old lady that deserves to have her last wish granted. Fuck that.”
“So you’re saying you have no problem denying an old lady her last dying wish? Really, Derek, you are heartless.”
He holds out the cookie container. “Want one? I warn you, they taste like a mixture between cardboard and mud.”
“Stop trying to change the subject, Derek.” His grandmother’s letter made me cry. I wish I had a family member want to spend time with me as much as Derek’s grandmother wants to spend time with him.
We’re in the den now. Boxes line one side of the room. Derek’s suitcases and belongings are on the other. Derek’s doing his best not to pay attention to that envelope now sitting on top of one of the boxes. I put it there because he needs to read it.
“When I told you I wanted you back the way you were, I didn’t mean the annoyin’ Ashtyn. I meant the Ashtyn who separated her Skittles, shoved an ice pack in my shorts, and didn’t pine after her douche bag of a boyfriend just because he left her—”
“For your information, I’m not pining for Landon.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Ashtyn.”
“If talking about your grandmother is off-limits to me, talking about Landon is off-limits to you.” I don’t want to tell him that Landon is playing for Fairfield as a revenge move on my teammates.
“Fine.”
“Fine. But you still need to read that letter.” I leave his room.
“And Landon is still a douche bag,” he exclaims.
Chapter 25
Derek
I close the door and look at the envelope. Yesterday morning I was tempted to read it, burn it, and never think about it again.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stared at the damn thing for what seemed like forever.
While Ashtyn wants me to read the letter, Falkor doesn’t seem to mind watching me do nothing except stare at it.
“Falkor, catch!” I toss the envelope to him like a Frisbee.
The dog watches the envelope land a few inches from his outstretched paws. He might actually be the most useless dog on the planet.
Ashtyn called me out for being afraid of reading the letter.
I’m not afraid.
I was afraid of losing my mom. The day she sat me down and told me she had cancer, I was scared. Not one day went by after that when I wasn’t afraid. When her blood counts were low, I thought it was the end. When she got dizzy and sick after chemo, it freaked me out. When her hair fell out and she looked fragile, I felt helpless. When I held her frail hand in the hospital when she looked like a shell of her former self, I was destroyed.
I’m definitely not afraid of reading a letter from a grandmother who’s a complete stranger.