Almost a month later, my life seems to have changed once again.
Dad and I are close. Closer than we've ever been before. Something about this town and our fresh starts has brought us together in ways nothing else ever could. And I love it. I love feeling less alone. I love how the pain I felt on a daily basis has subsided to almost a dull throb by now. I love knowing that my father is happier than he's been since we lost Mom; that he's starting to heal.
I also have a best friend. For the first time since we left Texas, I actually have someone I love and trust and have managed to not run off. It's weird in the best way imaginable. I love Lana with all my heart. She even comes over, which is also new to me. Before moving to Georgia, Dad and I never stayed in one place long enough for me to make friends. Not that I ever tried to make friends, anyway. I was in a very dark place then where light couldn't seem to reach me at all, simply going through the motions without trying to live life much at all.
On top of all this, I even have a boyfriend, Lucas. He's amazing in all the ways that a boyfriend should be: he takes me out on dates, he holds my hand in the hallways, and he's even come over for dinner a few times. It's safe to say that my dad likes him, though I know Dad would secretly rather have me date a football player. After all, that's his team. He knows those boys better than they know themselves.
As for me and Jack, we haven't spoken since the day he got back together with Lacey. We do see each other around a lot, however. After all, it is a small town. Sometimes I even wave when I see him, offering a smile that is genuine enough. I mean, it was Jack who listened to me when I needed someone to be there the most. Plus, he didn't tell a soul the things I told him that night. He's kept my secret, and I couldn't be more grateful to him for that if I tried to be.
Part of me still thinks about him from time to time. I find myself wondering what could have happened if I had let Jack Crawford in instead of push him away; what things could have been like between the two of us. I think Jack Crawford will forever be one of my biggest what ifs.
Not that I care, that is. It's not like I'm pining over the past, regretting the decisions I made. I mean, things are going pretty great now. I can't sit around hung up over some guy. It's pathetic and completely unnecessary. I'd say I've moved on, and that Jack has too. And I think that's good for the both of us.
"So," Lucas says suddenly, bringing me out of my thoughts. We're walking through the hallway, hand in hand, heading for my locker. "What are you doing for dinner tonight? I can't stop thinking about your dad's pasta."
I wrinkle my nose as I glance over my shoulder at him, turning my locker combination into the lock. "Why would you be thinking of my dad's pasta? He's a terrible cook!"
"I don't know," Lucas admits with a shrug and a laugh. He leans against the locker next to mine, smiling at me as our gazes lock. "I kinda liked it."
"Well then." I close my locker before turning to face Lucas again, smirking as I reveal, "You're disgusting."
"Gee." Lucas rolls his eyes as he pretends to be hurt, though the corners of his lips tug as if holding back a smile. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special."
"I was only kidding," I assure Lucas with a smile of my own. I stand on my tiptoes, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away, I can't help but notice Jack and Lacey across the hall. Lacey is talking to one of her friends, and Jack is waiting patiently next to her. He catches my eye, his gaze drifting between me and Lucas slowly. He waves, so I wave back politely in return.
I turn back to my boyfriend after that, Lucas's warmth seeping into my skin as we hold hands. I lean my head up toward Lucas's, smiling as I murmur, "I guess I'll see you later."
"Call me." Lucas kisses my cheek once more before walking off down the hallway, offering me one last wave before disappearing completely. I wait for the feeling of butterflies to appear in my stomach as I watch him go. I wait for that nervously excited adrenaline to course through my veins that normally overtakes a person when they've just been around someone they really like.
Instead, I don't feel anything. I feel as neutral as if nothing had happened at all between Lucas and I, and I hate myself for that. I tell myself it's not a big deal; that it doesn't mean anything that I don't get all giddy in Lucas's presence. I like Lucas. He's my boyfriend, after all. I'm with him because I want to be.
And though I know all of this, I still can't ignore the feeling that something between the two of us is off.
Before heading home, I decide to give my dad a quick visit on the football field. I haven't seen him at all today, and for some reason I just need to be around his reassuring presence, even if just for a moment.
I start the walk down the field lost in thought. I find that I can't stop thinking about Lucas, and it's not in the ways I should be thinking of him. Maybe I shouldn't have a boyfriend. Maybe I'm not ready for a serious relationship yet. Maybe I should wait to try to date and find the right kind of person I can take things slow with. Because if I'm going to be with someone, it needs to be someone I trust. Someone I can talk to Mom about. Someone who will really be able to understand me; understand why I'll never really truly be completely happy deep within.
Someone like Jack Crawford.
Cut that out, I chide myself. You can't be thinking like that. It's not fair to your boyfriend, or you. I thought you were over the whole Jack thing. Jack is with Lacey. And you're with Lucas. And you like Lucas.
Right?
The next thing I know, I'm stumbling over my own two feet.Out of nowhere, I lose my footing, sliding over some mud on the ground. I end up falling on my butt, landing just a foot away from the mud puddle I slipped on. I feel a sharp pain shoot through my ankle as it suddenly starts to throb, and I let out a cry of pain.
Just as I'm wondering how I'm possibly going to stand back up, I hear the sound of familiar voices. The voices are followed by footsteps, letting me know help is on the way. I look up just as Jack and his friend Chris step into my line of vision. Jack's gaze meets mine instantly, his expression going slack like he can't quite comprehend what he's seeing. Then he's rushing toward me, leaving Chris behind in the dust.
"What happened?" Jack asks as he reaches me, leaning down toward me with a worried expression. I don't think about the fact that this is the first time we've spoken to each other in weeks. I'm forced to think about the pain pulsating from my ankle instead, concentrating on the way I can feel my foot throb.
"I tripped," I admit through clenched teeth. I grip my ankle tightly, wondering what on earth I did to it during a harmless fall to make it hurt in such a way.
"Hey," Jack says gently, his voice soothing. I can feel his hands on my skin, sending jolts of electricity through my body. How he manages to do things like that to me with one touch—despite everything else—leaves me baffled. "Let me." Jack removes my hands from my skin, taking my ankle in his hands gently to examine the damage.
"It's a little swollen," he tells me, eyes on the injury while my eyes focus on him. I don't know what it is about Jack that's holding me captive in this moment. Despite the fact that my ankle is throbbing in pain, I can only seem to feel his touch. When he looks up and those green eyes of his meet mine, I can't think about anything else but the fact that he's looking at me.
"It's not too bad, though," Jack assures me, shaking his head as his gaze falls back down to my ankle in his grasp. "Some ice and staying off of it for a while should do the trick."
"Oh," is all I can manage to get out. It seems that it's only just now hit me what's going on here. I tripped and hurt my ankle. And of course, there's Jack, heading to my rescue once again. Will I ever stop owing this boy? It doesn't seem like it, and I'm not sure how I feel about that fact.
Jack waves Chris down, sending him off for my father within seconds. Then it's just the two of us, sitting in the grass together side by side. It's ironic to me that there are so many things I want to say to him, but I just can't seem to find the words.
"There was mud," I find myself blurting without thinking. "I, uh, slipped. I must have twisted my ankle during the fall."
"You're really gonna have to start watching where you're going, Scott." I can tell by the teasing gleam in Jack's green eyes that he's referring to the moment we first met, where he almost plowed me down in the hallway.
"Hey." I once again say the word without thinking it over first. I can feel my lips involuntarily tugging into a grin as I counter, "You were the one that almost ran over me that day, remember?"
Jack chuckles faintly, rubbing his chin sheepishly as if he's thinking about something. "Are you sure that was me?"
"Positive." I shove his shoulder as I say the word, unable to bite back my grin. Jack holds my gaze for a moment as we share a smile, eyes on the other's. It feels so oddly natural just speaking with him in this moment, joking around despite everything. It's almost like I've known him forever, like we never had a fall out, like I never pushed him away in the first place.
An awkward silence falls over us then. No doubt we're both thinking of the last time we spoke to each other. What I said to him, how I treated him. I find myself thinking that I shouldn't have lashed out on Jack the way I did, wishing I could take that moment back.
Only, I can't.
"So," Jack says, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. "How's Lucas?"
I don't want to talk about Lucas when I'm around you. How could I possibly talk about another guy? Lucas isn't the one that I want and I think we both know that.
"He's—we're—uh, good. Really good," I manage to stutter despite my thoughts, wondering where they even came from. I stop short, not wanting to talk about me and Lucas in Jack's presence. I can tell by the way Jack's eyes flash when I say the words that he doesn't really want to talk about my relationship with Lucas, either. "What about you? How's Lacey?"
I'm expecting him to lie. To say virtually the same thing I just said about me and Lucas to him. Instead, Jack's gaze drifts to the grass. He shrugs as he purses his lips, appearing to be at a loss for words. "She's . . . Lacey." Jack swallows hard, opening his mouth like he wants to say something more. He closes it just as quickly, apparently deciding not to let me in on his thoughts. I can't blame him. After everything I've put him through, I wouldn't want to talk to me either.
Shortly after this, my dad and Chris make a sudden appearance. Dad looks worried as he rushes toward me, and the worry in his expression only seems to quadruple when he sees me sitting in the grass, my ankle propped up on Jack's leg.
"Morgan!" Dad cries, bending down to my height once he's by my side. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine, Dad," I assure my father, not wanting to make a big deal out of anything. "I just tripped. My ankle's a little sore, though."
"Do you want me to take you home?" Dad questions, furrowing his eyebrows as he scans my ankle with a frown. "I can cancel practice for the day. Maybe you should go to the doctor . . ."
"Seriously, Dad. I'm fine." I force a laugh as I say the words, needing him to believe me. Although my ankle hurts, I'm sure it's nothing. I'd feel bad having my dad cancel practice to take me to the doctor for nothing more than a sprain. "I think I'm just gonna head home and put some ice on my ankle. Just rest for a while."
"Drive?" Dad's forehead creases as his gaze meets mine, looking skeptical. "I don't think I want you driving with that ankle, Morgan."
"And I don't think I want you missing practice," I counter, trying for a I'm fine, I swear smile. "It's really not a big deal, Dad. Definitely nothing to cancel practice over. I'll be fine."
Dad hesitates for a moment. A shadow crosses over his face as he purses his lips, clearly lost in thought as he debates with himself what he should do. Drawing in a breath, Dad asks me, "Are you sure you're all right to drive?"
"Positive." I give him a big look-I'm-smiling-it-can't-hurt-that-bad grin that will hopefully help prove my point. After a moment, Dad sighs, running a hand through his dark hair as he shakes his head.
"Well, if you're sure." Dad appears hesitant as he helps me up, as if he thinks he's making a bad decision. "Crawford." Dad gestures for Jack, who has politely stayed out of hearing range this entire time. Jack looks up, walking toward us as Dad questions, "Would you mind walking Morgan to her car?"
"Oh, that's not necessary," I say too quickly, shooting my dad a look that could kill.
"I'd feel a lot better if Jack went with you," Dad explains as he glances down at me, worry clouding his eyes. "That way, if anything were to happen . . ." Dad trails off, shooting me a pointed look. I roll my eyes, knowing that no matter how much I fight my dad on this, Jack's going to end up coming with me either way. I watch, seething as my dad and Chris walk off toward the field after a few more moments of discussion, leaving me alone with Jack.
"Do you need any—"
"I'm fine," I cut Jack off before he can finish his question, beginning to walk toward the parking lot on my own. If there's one thing I don't want in this moment, it's to be pressed up against Jack Crawford as I hobble like an infant. I guess that's why I push through the pain, making my way to my car as if my ankle is throbbing to the rhythm of my heartbeat and begging me to stop moving. Jack follows after me in silence, evidently catching on that I am no longer in the mood to talk to him.
I don't trip until I'm just feet away from the parking lot. Of course, I have to stumble over a rock, nearly falling all over again. Only, I don't. Jack swoops in just in time, wrapping his strong arms around me so that I don't hit the ground for a second time. For a moment, Jack and I simply stand pressed against each other, gazes locked. I can feel warmth radiating off of him, sinking into my skin. I'm so close to him that I can feel his chest pressed against mine, smell the scent of his cologne drifting into the air surrounding us. This close up, I notice that Jack's green eyes have little golden flecks scattered around his irises that I can't seem to stop staring at.
"You all right?" Jack whispers the words after a long moment of silence, ripping through the moment we just shared.
"Y-yeah," I manage to stutter in response. Despite my answer, he doesn't let go of me. I'd be lying if I said part of me wanted him to let go. Half of me wants to stand here in his arms forever, warm and safe. Being so close to him does that to me, does things to my head that I don't think I'll ever fully understand.
"I-I should g-go." I nearly choke on the words, but that doesn't stop me from forcing them out. I don't think I can do this for much longer. I don't even know what this is. All I know is that whatever is going on here needs to stop, and now.
"Right," Jack agrees with a little nod, releasing me. I suddenly feel cold, and I'm not quite sure why I disappointment surges through my veins. Why is it that whenever I'm around this boy I can't stop thinking right is wrong and up is down?
It was better before, back when I was avoiding him. Now that we've had this encounter, I'm afraid that I won't be able to do that anymore. Jack Crawford is like a drug, and I'm starting to think I might become an addict.
I hobble over to my car, opening the driver's door slowly. I know that I should just go before this can get any worse, while I still have the willpower to do so. And yet part of me isn't ready to let go of this moment I've shared with Jack, wanting to linger a little longer. Before I can think better of it, I find myself turning to face Jack once again, completely unsure of why I do so.
"Thank you," is all I murmur, unable to get any other words out.
Jack blinks, almost like he didn't hear the words. Bringing his eyebrows together in confusion, he says, "It was no problem. I hope your ankle feels better."
I shake my head, hair falling into my face. "No. Thank you for . . ." I trail off, gesturing with my hand as I try to find the right words to say. "Thank you for keeping all of that stuff I told you to yourself. It . . . it really means a lot to me, Jack."
A look of understanding crosses over Jack's features, his gaze softening as his eyes connect with mine. "You know I'd never tell anyone, Scott," Jack murmurs sweetly. "Your secret will always be safe with me."
His words unintentionally warm my heart. I can feel butterflies beginning to flutter around in my stomach, my heart beginning to pound just a little faster. My palms get sweaty, and I can't control the smile that's spreading across my lips.
This is that feeling, I can't stop myself from thinking. The feeling that I don't get when I'm around Lucas. The feeling that's somehow reserved itself just for Jack Crawford. That feeling you get when you're around someone you like.
"You know what, Crawford?" I can't stop the words from coming out of my mouth, so I just roll with it. At this point, what have I got to lose? "You're a really sweet guy."
The grin on Jack's face after I say the words makes me not regret them at all.
• • •
"How's the ankle?" Dad asks me a few days after I tripped and twisted my ankle on my way to the football field, checking in on me to make sure I'm feeling better. Lana's over, and the both of us are sitting on the couch basically just being lazy, as what else does one do on a Saturday?
"Much better," I inform my dad, raising my leg in the air in proof. "It was just a little sore for a while. I can move it again!"
"Good," Dad says, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he leans over the couch. "Glad to hear that. Hey, Lana."
"Hi, Mr. Scott," Lana greets in response, offering my dad a polite smile.
"Please," Dad says with a slight chuckle, returning Lana's smile. "Call me Matthew. Mr. Scott was my dad. And my grandfather."
I roll my eyes at my father's attempt of a joke, though Lana lets out a small laugh, as if my dad is actually funny. "Seriously, Dad?" I question with a groan, shaking my head at Lana.
"What?" There's a teasing gleam in my dad's eyes that I don't think I've seen since before Mom passed. It's nice to see him this happy again. He must have really missed living here in his hometown. This place has brought back a side of him I didn't think I was ever going to see again. "I don't like being called mister. It makes me feel old."
"What does the team call you then?" Lana asks, turning around to face my dad as if she's actually intrigued. I discreetly roll my eyes. Knowing Lana, she doesn't really care about the answer. She just loves talking about the football team because of the boys on it.
"Coach," Dad answers with a wink and a smile.
"Speaking of the team," Lana says, walking toward the kitchen counter to converse with my father. I follow after her, not wanting to feel left out between my dad and my best friend. "Do you think you're going to make it to the play-offs this year?"
Dad frowns as he nods, his eyes still gleaming as he slices an apple. This time I recognize the shine in his gaze, as it's one of pride. "I'd say we've got a good chance," Dad admits, frowning in thought. "Those boys are good."
"Who would you say the best player is?" Lana presses, raising her eyebrows as she anticipates my father's answer. I'm not sure exactly why Lana cares about this information at the same time I know exactly why: my best friend is a little boy crazy.
Dad doesn't even hesitate before answering Lana's question. It's like he doesn't even need to think about what he's going to say, as his response is just fact. "Jack Crawford. That boy is going places. He tears up the field like he owns it. When he makes it into the NFL, I can't wait to say I coached the kid."
My heart flutters just at the mention of Jack, as much as I hate that. I know it's wrong of me to think in such a way about him, especially when I'm with Lucas. But I have no control over it. It's like my heart and my mind are on separate teams, competing with each other over how I'm supposed to feel toward Jack and driving me crazy in the process.
"I heard colleges are already scouting him," Lana adds, nodding like she agrees with my dad and isn't shocked at all by his answer to her previous question.
This is news to me, as I didn't know this about Jack. I don't know why it even shocks me. Dad's right, after all. Jack is a great football player. Maybe I'm not so much shocked as I am hurt, as crazy and selfish as that sounds. I just don't like the thought of Jack leaving, going to some far-off school where I'll probably never see him again . . .
. . . what the heck am I even thinking? Jack and I aren't even on speaking terms! Well, not really, at least. Ugh! I can't stand myself sometimes. It's like I can't make my mind up about anything, especially when it comes to Jack Crawford. Just when I thought I was done with him, of course he has to reenter my life, only to make it more confusing than ever.
Whatever this obsession is that I have with Jack Crawford, I need to get over it. And soon. I don't think I'm going to be able to make it much longer if I don't.