Backwoods Backwards

Twelve

I hang up before Duke can reply. I don't want to hear what he has to say.

And yet, I'm allowing him to talk to me in person.

Very contradictory, a voice reprimands me lightly. Way to go.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I sit down on the edge of my bed while I wait for him to come up. This is the only way he'll ever be able to come in, because I don't want another Wesley situation, and I certainly don't want Lindsey getting any ideas. Based on what she knows about my little secret, it won't take her long to put two and two together, and then I'll be screwed.

I can only hope I get Duke out of my room fast enough that she won't even notice he's been here.

Clattering sounds filter in through my open window.

Duke's coming up. He's actually coming in through my window.

Heart pounding against my ribcage, I hold my breath as his lean torso finally comes into view. I try to glance at him impassively, letting my eyes flit across the room and back briefly multiple times to show disinterest, but it doesn't seem to be working too well; Duke has muscles, and watching him heave himself through my window as effortlessly as he does makes that little fact very prominent.

Heat creeps up my neck when my mind wanders to last night, when those arms of his were wrapped around me....

Stop it! I lash out at myself mentally. Don't you dare think about sleeping with Duke right now!

By this point the main thought in my mind is finally standing in my room just in front of me, his expression hard but his eyes anything but. In them I see remorse, and more of it than I think I should.

I don't know how I feel about that.

To feel a little more in control, I cross my arms over my chest, pressing my lips into a thin line.

Duke's face hardens even more when I do.

Silence falls over us both, tense and awkward, but I shove no sign of breaking from my determined state. After what happened today, I have nothing to say to Duke, and I shouldn't.

He finally breaks the silence. "Lacey." Just my name, nothing else.

Perhaps he hopes that'll be enough to loosen me up, make me want his apologies.

Too bad for him that I've been twisted enough that it won't work. Not that easily.

Sensing he won't get me to crack without doing more, Duke sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

Even though I told myself I wouldn't say a word, I can't bite back my retort. "Are you going to say anything that actually means something to me? You sound like a broken record."

It may be harsh, sure, but so am I.

Duke tries again. "I screwed up today, Lacey. I know that, okay? I was a real jerk at the bleachers and said some things I'm not proud of. Things I regret." He looks at me carefully then. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I'm a real tool for doing that."

My arms loosen across my chest until they fall to my sides.

Something about his apology, no matter how unorthodox, strikes me a genuine. Some of the anger I harbored towards him dissolves, but not all of it.

I'm not your classic teenage girl with drama who, upon having a guy confess apology after apology, will just let said guy sweep me off my feet and everything will work out. If that was the case, I'd be in a happy relationship with a nice guy like Wesley, and I never would have had a reason to talk to Duke Henderson, let alone put myself in a situation where an apology or two from him would be appreciated.