Dare You to Hate Me, page 22
I expect a mountain of a man standing behind the door when I open it, not a curly-haired dirty blond with dark brown highlights and hesitant honey-colored eyes pointed at me.
Oh my God.
“Porter?” I whisper, stepping back in shock as I stare at my not-so-little brother. He towers over me now, something I’m not accustomed to. I look him over, waiting for him to disappear like a figment of my imagination.
It takes him a few seconds, but he slowly nods and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. One of the knees has a rip in it that looks artfully done, and he’s wearing a pair of sneakers that look exactly like another pair of Nikes he loved in the past. His favorite brand—always expensive but…him. “Yeah, it’s me.”
His voice is deeper, the baby fat on his face long gone and in its place a narrow jawline and envious cheekbones all clean of scruff except for a little peach fuzz over his top lip. Those eyes haven’t changed, and I start to wonder if mine show as much emotion as his.
No wonder Aiden can read me so well.
“What are you doing here? How…?” My eyes pop open as I take another step backward into the room as panic seeps in. “Are Mom and Dad with you?”
“He didn’t tell you?” is my brother’s response, face paling over the revelation.
I slowly shake my head.
“It’s just me and…” He glances down the hall and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t know Aiden didn’t say anything. I came to see the game with his parents.”
It’s hard to swallow knowing Mrs. Griffith is here. The only other person besides Aiden that I idolized.
“I lied to Mom and Dad,” he admits sheepishly, cheeks turning from white to pink in a microsecond. He always did that if he felt bad, blushed. “They think I’m staying at a friend’s house for the weekend.”
Friend’s house. He has someone in his life. That’s…that’s good.
Blowing out a breath, I wipe my hands down the front of the shirt and nod to myself over the admission. Porter’s eyes go to the jersey I’m wearing and his lips twitch, leveling again without giving me a solid reaction of what he’s thinking.
“Will they… Will you get into trouble? If they find out you lied, I mean. I don’t want you to—”
“Stop,” he cuts me off quickly, pain in his eyes as he steps forward. “It’ll be okay. I mean, yeah, they’d be upset but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I, uh…”
My heart clenches at his hesitation, and I realize I need to be the person I wasn’t to him before. “You can tell me,” I reassure him. “I can take it. If you’re angry or upset…”
His eyes go back to the hallway, looking anywhere but at me. I get it. I’m nothing like I used to be either and have no clue what to say or what not to. “Ivy, I’m not sure angry or upset quite covers what’s happening in my head right now.”
I run my tongue across my bottom lip, as I glance at the carpet. “That’s fair.”
His sigh is heavy. “It’s not because of what you probably think. Listen, Aiden said some…things he wants left between us. His parents are chill people and agreed to drive me here to see you and the game when Aiden suggested it.”
My heart thuds. “You wanted to see me?” When did Aiden suggest it? “But you never replied to my message.”
“Your account was gone before I could,” he explains quickly. Porter starts taking a step toward me but second guesses and ends up taking one backward instead. “I did try, Ivy. It took me a couple days to see it, and I’ll be honest I wasn’t sure if I was going to respond. But then Aiden showed up at one of my practices at school.”
“He what?” Heart thudding in my chest, I shake my head at the statement I wasn’t expecting.
My brother winces. “Shit. Listen, that doesn’t matter. He thought it’d be good if we had a chance to talk, so he got me a ticket. Plus, er, well I’m being scouted by the Raiders, so I want to see what they’ve got going for them before I make up my mind. But I did try to respond, honest.”
Eye twitching, I wrap my arms around myself and swallow my opinion on the school matter. It isn’t me who has anything against the well-known university, but I can’t help but feel bitter in Aiden’s defense. I wouldn’t want Porter to go through what Aiden did.
“I deleted my Facebook account the other day,” I say sheepishly. I’d checked to see if he’d seen my message and when I saw he hadn’t, anxiety got the better of me. Instead of obsessing or waiting for the moment his message was marked as “seen” without so much as a reply, I deactivated my account and told myself I did all I could.
Porter shifts on his feet when a couple doors open down the hall and deep voices echo. “I think the team is getting ready to leave. Mrs. Griffith told me to come get you. She wanted to come with me, but her husband said to give us some space since it’s been a while.”
Been a while. I refrain from commenting on that understatement when DJ and Matt stop by my door and eye Porter.
Matt asks, “Is this kid giving you trouble? We don’t mind helping out if he is. Aiden would want us to or we’d get our asses handed to us.”
Porter’s eyes round at the way the two men crowd his space. “I’m, er— She’s—”
DJ chuckles and smacks Porter. “Nice to see you again, kid. Glad you decided to come after all.”
What the hell? “How do you know—” I stop when DJ shoots me an apologetic smile.
“I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” he tells me, and that’s when I realize where their trip was to. Haven Falls. Aiden, Caleb, and DJ went to my hometown. Our hometown.
I sigh. “This is my brother, Matt. Stop scaring him. Aiden, and apparently DJ and Caleb, thought it’d be good to surprise me.”
Matt snickers. “You don’t seem like the type to like surprises.”
Porter scratches his jaw. “She never did.”
Squeezing my torso, I murmur, “That’s because the surprises I had growing up were never good ones.”
They’re all quiet, making me feel bad for making things awkward. I focus solely on my brother when I say, “Let me grab my stuff and then we can go.”
“Are you coming with us?” DJ inquires.
“Aiden’s parents are taking us,” is all I offer for explanation before disappearing into the room and grabbing my phone and my bag from the bed. The small crossbody purse is nothing special, but it holds what little money I have, Chapstick I’m bound to lose by the end of the trip, and my I.D. cards that are heavily outdated.
When I’m back, it’s just Porter and DJ left. “Where’d Matt go?”
I get a shrug from the blond. “Told him I’d make sure you got down there okay. I haven’t seen Aiden’s ‘rents in a while.”
My brows rise as I close the door behind us and follow him and my brother down the long hallway toward the elevators at the end. “You mean since your not-so-mysterious boys trip like a week ago?”
He presses the button and snorts as the doors open for us. “You didn’t need to know, Ives.”
I grumble my disagreement.
“They come to a lot of our games. Big supporters of Griff’s. His mom gets into it, and his dad—” He stops himself. “Well, he’s a good guy but he’s intense. Wants the best for Aiden and sometimes shows it in a tough love kind of way.”
That grabs my attention. His father has always been a big fan of Aiden, helping him train and learn the playbooks when he played in high school. But he always meant well. “Do they not get along?”
“Nah, that’s not it.” DJ hits the GROUND FLOOR button and turns to Porter and I who are leaning against the opposite wall. “They get along fine. His dad definitely bothers him sometimes with how hard he pushes him, but it keeps Aiden on track.”
“Mr. Griffith seems cool,” my brother intervenes, giving me a one-shoulder shrug. “We talked football the whole way here.”
DJ looks to him. “You play, right?”
Porter clears his throat, looking almost shy over the question. “Quarterback.”
“Ah, big shot. You a leader then?”
Something about his questions makes me snap. “Can you stop with the inquiry, DJ?”
Porter instantly drops his eyes to the floor as we descend to the ground level. DJ presses his lips together and nods, not looking surprised over my reaction.
Shoulders tensing, I glance between the two boys trapped in the little box with me and realize I’m not being fair. I don’t know Porter— his likes, who he’s become, and have nothing to contribute. Having someone else get to know him better before me makes the itch come back under my skin, the pressure that I want to ignore. “I’m sorry,” I say to both of them.
It’s Porter who bumps my arm with his, offering me a small smile when I shift my eyes upward. “I get it. This isn’t easy for me either.”
DJ remains uncharacteristically quiet across from us, letting us have a moment. I’m not sure how many we’ll get before I mess everything up.
Biting on the inside of my cheek, I move my hand down to his and link our palms. For a moment, Porter freezes, but eventually he melts into my touch and squeezes right back.
When the door opens to the lobby, neither of us lets go and the people who greet us at the very bottom instantly smile when they see us walk out hand in hand.
“Ivy,” a voice belonging to a familiar dark-haired, bright-eyed woman calls out to me. It’s hard to breathe when Mrs. Griffith gives me a once over with a big smile. Her hair is streaked with more white than I remember, and the corners of her lips and eyes are wrinkled from years of laughter that I remember being so fond of hearing. “I am so happy to see you, sweetie.”
She envelopes me in a tight hug, and only then does Porter let go of me. I’m frozen, telling myself to lift my arms and return the hug like I used to. I lived for her warmth and happiness and am slammed with the cinnamon and sugar scent wafting from her from all the time she must still spend baking.
“Hi, Mrs. Griffith,” I offer weakly, hooking an arm around her back.
She squeezes me tighter despite my lackluster attempt at a reunited front. “Oh, Ivy. I’ll never get you to call me Emily, will I? You’re as stubborn as I remember.”
I pull away first, managing a smile that she returns easily. “Yeah. Aiden likes to remind me about that.”
Her hands go to my shoulders, rubbing lightly until the friction warms me. “You’re still beautiful too. I’m sure my son has told you that plenty of times as well.”
Before I can control myself, heat gathers in my cheeks. “Er…”
“Emily,” Mr. Griffith calls out from a few feet away. His baritone voice has my eyes shifting to him for a moment. “We should get going or we’ll be late.”
There’s something unreadable in his eyes as they study me carefully. His hair has gone almost completely white, a far cry from the dirty blond he used to be, and his gaze is hazel green and hardened from life and experience. I recognize the silent warning in them that I’ve gotten from others surrounding Aiden and already know this may not play out like my old friend thinks it will.
I know what disapproval and fear looks like because I’ve seen and felt both plenty of times when I look in the mirror. John Griffith is showing me his feelings with one single head nod in greeting.
“Hi,” I greet him, picking my head up as if his armed eyes don’t affect me like he wants them to.
Porter sidles up beside me. “You good?”
I swallow, the lie slipping off my tongue effortlessly because I’ve caused him enough problems by putting myself first. “Of course. Ready to go?”
His head cocks as if he’s contemplating my honesty, but doesn’t say anything other than a short, “Yeah.”
The second mother to me, the one who I used to pretend was mine when I needed someone maternal to praise and comfort me, guides me, my brother, and her husband out with a hand at the small of my back.
She leans in when we fall back from the others and whispers, “I’ve always believed that the best things in life come after some of our toughest trials. I don’t know what’s happened over the past few years, Ivy, but I have no doubt you’re stronger than ever. But Aiden…”
I try to calm my racing heart, but it does nothing to steady the heavy thumping in my chest that always comes with Aiden’s name being mentioned.
“Aiden has some trials left to face.” When I meet her eyes, mine are shy and laden with confusion as she rubs my back. “Wait for him to sort it out like he did for you when you went to your grandmother’s house. That’s all I’m asking.”
I say nothing in reply, her words twisting my mind with confusion until I realize she has no idea where I’ve been.
And maybe, to preserve what respect she still has left for me, it’s better she doesn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aiden
I never thought I’d step onto this turf again, listening to the rapid chant of Raiders fans filling the recently renovated stadium. The crowd is a mixture of gold and red, with my former team’s colors taking up most of my periphery as I coast the crowd with my gaze to find the only people I care about from the sidelines.
Mom is holding a huge white sign with my number in big red letters, sporting college garb that matches the rest of my family. And while I always appreciate seeing them cheer me on at the games they attend, it’s the long jersey that looks like a dress on Ivy’s body that captures my attention the most.
Coach Pearce got my parents seats at the 50-yard line like he always does, not realizing he’d be adding two more to the group until last minute. And when I told him one was for Ivy he’d given me a look before I shut him down saying, “You’re my coach, not my father and not me. You don’t get to make decisions for me, and you don’t get to speak to the people I care for with disrespect.”
And to my surprise, he’d ensured I’d have the extra space for them and added, “Your girl reminds me a lot of the missus when she handed me my ass during our talk, son. Scared me to hell to know there’s a clone of my Liza. All I can say is good luck. It may be you bringing home the big paychecks, but it’s her who’s going to wear the pants in that relationship.”
If I didn’t know he loved his wife so much, I may take that the wrong way. Instead, it made me chuckle. He slapped my back, I shook my head, and he hasn’t said a word about Ivy since.
Ivy is listening to something her brother is saying, her arms crossed over her chest and a jacket that looks like my mother’s is draped over her shoulders for warmth.
When I decided to make the trek home with Caleb and DJ, I wasn’t sure what I’d say when I showed up at the little white house I’d only been in a handful of times after meeting Ivy. She preferred hanging out at mine, away from her mother and brother since they were always there. Yet, she’d always tell me she’d have to check on Porter if we got lost on one of our adventures, never wanting to leave him alone for long.
It doesn’t matter how many years separated them, or what she thinks of herself for leaving him behind, she never stopped caring about what happened to her family. That’s only proven in the way her arm moves to wrap around her brother’s as she listens with apt attention to whatever he’s explaining to her as he points at something in the field.
“Griffith,” Coach barks, pulling my attention away from the girl who can’t admit how she really feels. Her silence in the truck stung, but I tried not to take it personally. I didn’t say the three words I feel directly, so why should I expect her to when she’s adamant she doesn’t know what love is supposed to be like?
I wanted to tell her, it feels like this.
But would she run?
Turning on my heels, I face Pearce with a nod of my helmeted head. “Coach.”
He puts his hands on my shoulders, squeezing the pads protecting me. “The first quarter didn’t look so good for us, but Wallace managed to get us on the board. That’s something to work with out there. Are you going to be good for the second? We need your full attention if we’re going to beat these assholes.”
“We will, sir.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” The word is bitter on my tongue, tasting of disbelief.
“The boys are talking a lot of smack out there and DJ already got us a penalty for unnecessary roughness because of the shit talk. Last thing I need is getting a player ejected because they’re letting petty bull crap creep under their skin. You’re tough. Keep your head up out there if you want to beat them.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“I knew the second I saw you two together that Ivy has the capability of changing everything for you. You can drool over her after we beat these sons of bitches. Understand?”
My jaw ticks. “Understood, Coach.”
He releases my shoulders and grabs the headpiece on my helmet, pulling me closer. “I didn’t hear you. Are we going to take the Raiders down?”
My nostrils flare. “Yes, Coach,” I say louder. He lets go of my helmet and gives me one last look before clapping his hands and calling us together.
The cement feeling in my stomach only grows heavier with each passing quarter.
An interference.
A 15-yard penalty.
Tripping.
I come face-to-face with one of the opposing defense players who narrows his eyes at me. “I can see why they let you go,” he says, trying to block my opening. Ignoring him doesn’t get the message across, and every move I make he mimics with a sense of challenge that goes beyond the game. “What? Nothing to say. What they say about you must be true then. You’re nothing but a pussy.”
Grinding my teeth, I create an opening just as the ball comes soaring in my direction from Wallace. I’m running with as much speed as I can and avoiding the Raiders coming at me when I catch the ball and cradle it to my chest and make a break for the end zone.
I’m twenty yards away.
Fifteen.
Two guys are hot on my heels, one of them mere inches away when I push myself harder than I ever have before to get to the ten-yard line.
