Caught In A Riptide
Chapter Eighteen
Arlo
"You've got everything?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Mom twists around in her seat, offering me a reassuring smile. "You're gonna be awesome, kiddo. I can't wait to see you out there."
Blowing a big breath out through my nose, I admit, "I'm nervous as hell."
"I know." Her eyes soften, and when she reaches back and wiggles her fingers at me until I hold her hand, I realize it's because she knows I'm more nervous that Lakely won't show than I am about how big of a game this is; we won't win any medals or trophies for this game, but a 'W' on our score sheet would look great going into the season.
I'm desperate to see Lakely, though. I know our friends will be in the crowd because they've already texted me pictures of themselves outfitted in Dolphins colors. I just hope she's there, too.
"Stay sharp and remember what your coach always says."
"Use my team," I parrot, snorting a laugh. "I know."
There's a tap on the door then. It's Watson wearing a giddy grin and Dolphin blue.
"All right, I better go. See you in a bit, Mom."
"Bye, kiddo. You'll be great."
Hopping out, I join Watson for the walk toward the gym, shouldering my bag and wincing when Mom yells "I love you, Arlo!" before I can get inside the building. There aren't tons of people around yet, but there are enough for me to be embarrassed.
Watson snorts and nudges me with his shoulder. "Nice, man."
"Shut it," I grumble, kind of loving that she's so demonstrative even though it's embarrassing as hell sometimes. "You ready, bro? Big day."
It's his turn to grumble, and I briefly feel shitty for redirecting my nerves onto him. "I've practiced as hard as I can. If I blow it today, I guess I'm just not meant to be a starter."
"Whoa, man." I skid to a stop, grabbing his shoulder to halt him, too. "What the hell was that shit? Not meant to be a starter, are you kiddin' me?"
Wide-eyed, he shrugs.
"You can quit that shit right now. You're the best goalie we've got, dude. Don't wimp out on me now. We need you out there and we need you to believe in yourself."
Straightening up, he nods and clears his throat. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."
"You're gonna smash it, bro. You've practiced hard and you know what you're doing. I'm better than all of those Seminoles put together and you can stop me a chunk of the time, remember that."
"All right, I can do that." He's grinning as we continue the trek toward the gym. "Thanks, Arlo. You're a good guy."
I start to tell him that he won't feel that way if we lose today, because I'm man enough to admit that I'm a shockingly bad loser, but I get distracted by a familiar face walking down the hall, phone pressed to his ear.
CJ.
My blood boils as I wrap my hand around the strap of my sports bag and white-knuckle it. I've known the guy since I was four years old and always liked him.
Right now, I'd love to punch him hard enough to wipe the smile off his face.
He turns before we do, carrying a big, empty box. I'm still wondering why he was here when I get to the locker room and the guys are all going gaga over a tray of freshly baked cupcakes.
"Look, man!" Liam grins, stuffing one in his mouth so white and blue icing gets smeared all over his chin. "Cakes!"
"I see that," I mutter, shaking my head when he tries to give me one. They're iced in white with edible dolphin stickers on top. So I guess that's why CJ was here, then.
Thankfully, Coach is as unimpressed as I am to see cakes in the locker room just before our big game. He takes them to his office and growls that anybody who ate one can start our warm-up with monkey rolls, my teammates' excitement turning into groans.
~ oOo ~
Warm-up goes by fast, and I surprise myself by finding my focus pretty early on.
Anticipation hums throughout the locker room when we all pile back in for a pep talk before the game. The stands were filling up while we were out there and trash talk was exchanged with the other team, so we're a mass of pumped up energy as Coach finally steps onto his stool and looks around at all of us.
"Y'all know the drill. Get out there and whup those Seminoles so they go running back to Sanford with their tails between their legs. Got it?"
"Got it!" we boom back, one voice, one team.
His eyes move to me. "Captain, you up to the task?"
I know what he's really asking, in not so many words.
Have you got your head out of your ass?
"Yes, Sir," I bark to the cheers of my teammates. One claps me on the back and another, who sounds like Liam, whoops right into my damn ear.
Coach grunts, watching me for a few more seconds before he smiles and steps down, putting his hand out. "All right. Let's gooooo…"
We pile in, hands and arms one giant mass as we raise them as one and chant, "Go Dolphins!"
The buzzer sounds and the voices of the school radio presenters are muffled, but we all bounce on the balls of our feet as we make our way down the short corridor to the field. I'm up front with Watson and Coach, my heart thumping so fucking hard.
Will she be there?
Demetri sent me a selfie a few minutes ago, but I couldn't tell who was with him. I know where he's sitting, though, so my eyes will head straight there when I get outside.
Pausing just before the doors, I suck in a big breath and remind myself that even if she's not out there, I need to focus.
My team is relying on me.
That reminder means nothing when we finally jog out onto the grass to cheers and applause from our excited home crowd. The atmosphere is electric.
This is my turf, my ocean.
This is where I stop being the odd man out middle child and become the big fish people cheer for.
Not the one person I really wanted to see, though.
My heart falls to my feet when I spot the empty seat on the end next to Heidi, Demetri, and Eric.
She didn't come.
~ oOo ~
"Liam, on your right!" I yell, hissing a curse when he's a second too slow and the ball is snatched from his feet.
"Fuck."
Glancing toward the scoreboard as I switch to pursuing the Seminole forward, George, I grimace.
We're losing, two goals to three with only five minutes left on the clock.
I'm panting like I'm dying when I manage to catch up to the other team's striker. A few more strides and he'll be in the penalty box. Ignoring the burn in my calves, I push through and manage to swipe the ball, passing it messily to Liam who spins and sends it heading back toward the right goal.
Coach is yelling from the sidelines. Even with the hoots and hollers from the bleachers, I can hear him telling me to 'Get up there.'
My lungs burn, sweat sticking my shirt to my skin as I fly down the field to get into position. There's no breeze, the heavy expectation of the home crowd pumping through my veins.
Ever since I was little, I've loved this.
The stretch of my muscles, the exhilaration after scoring a goal...the pride when I look into the crowd and see my family and friends watching.
Clenching my jaw after yelling for Newton to cross the ball to Carter, I stop myself from looking behind the goal where my friends are sitting. It takes every bit of the tiny amount of energy I have left to resist.
I don't need to look. She's not there.
It's the first game she's ever missed. The first opener I've ever played without her cheering me on in her custom jersey. Mom had a whole bunch printed when I made the team. My whole family wears my number—13—under their own names instead of mine.
I'm too distracted by the new feelings that swirl around me when I picture my name written across Lakely's back to see the Seminole defender coming.
A curse explodes out of me when he slams into my side, elbow landing solidly in my ribs and his head knocking against mine as we tumble down onto the grass in a mess of tangled limbs.
Pain splits my head in two, and it takes a second for me to realize the groan I can hear is coming from me.
My ears are ringing. I can't hear my teammates over the rush of blood in my head as I press my cheek against the grass and squeeze my eyes shut.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"...can you hear me? Son, can you hear what I'm saying?"
"Yes," I croak, cracking one eye open. Coach deflates, relief covering his face.
"What hurts?"
"My head." Sucking in a tentative breath, I blow it back out slowly. "My ribs, too, a little."
Once the medic has checked me over, Liam and Watson carefully help me up. There's a collective sigh from the bleachers and I have to force myself not to look at Mom. I bet she's freaking out. Honestly, I'm surprised she's not down here on the field tearing the other guy a new asshole.
The medic wants me to sit out the last couple of minutes so he can check me for a concussion, but when the referee calls a penalty and Coach's eyes immediately land on me, I know what I've gotta do.
"I can do it," I tell him, trying not to wince at the volume of my own voice.
Liam squeezes my shoulders, doubt all over his face. "Bro…"
"I can do it," I growl, and at this point, I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince.
I catch the wary glance Liam shoots Coach, but I also ignore it. Striding toward the ref on shaky legs, I nod and swallow the bile that rushes up my throat at the movement. "I'm good."
He eyes me for a moment before nodding and spraying a marker on the grass, waving the kid over with the ball. He puts it on the marker and jogs over to join the other defenders getting into position. The sun is high behind their goal; it makes my eyes water as I assess the goalie. I've faced him before.
Jennings. Number 6. He has black hair and blue eyes that narrow as he bounces in place, clapping his gloves together as he tries to work me out. He's a great goalie.
After the rush of cheers when I walked toward the goal, there's just a heavy silence now. Sniffing, I tip my head side to side until my neck clicks, still regaining my breath when I reach up to rub the back of my neck. It's like...I can feel eyes on me.
I'm no stranger to that, especially not here, but it's...different.
Turning slowly, I frown at the sea of faces staring back at me, breath catching in my throat when I spot her.
Lakers.
She offers me a small wave, free hand clutching the barrier as her cheeks flame crimson.
"You're here," I mouth, grinning despite the pain still radiating through my body when she nods and shrugs like duh.
I don't have time to let the relief sink in, because there's a few hundred people waiting for me to take the penalty. The ref blows the whistle and it's on.
I have to push Lakely from my mind as I suck in a big breath that sends a sharp pain through my chest.
I can't think about her when I'm closing the gap between myself and the ball.
I don't let my mind wander to our messy situation, to the baby, making a snap decision to send the ball left.
Picturing it sailing into the net in the top-left corner, I push everything but the movements of my body and the trajectory of the ball from my thoughts.
Three seconds after my foot makes contact, the ball hits the back of the net with a swish.
My teammates rush to sweep me off my feet, but my attention has shifted again. This time to the looks that Lakely is getting from the kids in the bleachers. I don't know if she's noticed, but she's just staring at me with a small, proud smile on her face. Swallowing hard as my heart slams against my aching ribs, I wonder if I'm about to make things better or worse.
Deciding I need to take the chance, I wait until I'm steady on Liam and Watson's shoulders before ripping my shirt up and over my head. It takes a second or ten, but the moment our classmates stop celebrating and start reading the letters I had printed on my thin undershirt just in case Lakely showed today, I squirm free of my teammates and jog toward her. The rosy flush is gone, her face ashen as she licks her lips and stares at my tee.
"Did you...oh, God…"
"Did I just out myself to the whole school?" I whisper thickly, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. I'm not the only one whispering—murmurs of surprise spread through the stands like wildfire. "I did, because it's true, Lakers."
I feel the burn of tears as I smile nervously and tug her through the gap in the barriers, my trembling hand ghosting over her stomach.
"I am the daddy."
She chokes on a shaky laugh, fingertips touching the back of my hand, holding it there as she peers up at me with warm, butterscotch eyes. "You're crazy. Everyone is going to be talking about you now."
"I don't care," I admit, ignoring the babble of voices at my back, my friends asking what the hell is going on, then asking if it's true as they start to put the pieces together. "I don't care if they talk shit about me, Lakers. I'm here for you. Please don't shut me out again. I can't…" Trailing off, I shake my head. "I need you. God knows I'm gonna fuck this up if you don't help me."
Snorting, Lakely sighs and reaches up to wipe my cheek with her fingertips. "I need you, too. I'm so scared, Arlo."
"Me, too." Pulling her into my arms, I press a kiss against the top of her head and shut my eyes, shut out the world. "I'm terrified, but it's the two of us against the world, right?"
Winding her arms around my middle, the words I'm the daddy squished between us along with our baby, Lakely shudders with a big breath. "It's not just the two of us anymore."
More than when I heard Tyler drop the bombshell, more than when Lakely herself admitted that she's pregnant, more than when I broke the news to my parents, and more than when I special ordered the tee...
That's the moment it hits me. Right there on the soccer field after scoring the goal that ties the game, the final whistle having blown in the middle of my team's celebrations.
I'm the daddy.
Oh, hell. I'm gonna be a dad.
~ oOo ~
"Great game, Arlo."
"Thanks, Dad." I smile as he wraps me up in a hug, then passes me over to Uncle Sullivan. Nana and Papa and the rest of the family headed out to beat the line for ice cream once they saw me sink the game-tying goal, so my secret is still safe from them—for now. Uncle Sullivan already knew, and Mom and Dad did, too, obviously.
"How's your head, smartass? What were you thinkin', takin' that penalty? Shit, dude."
Grimacing as Uncle Sullivan bumps me with his shoulder, I remind him I also took a hit to the ribs.
"Then you're even more stupid than I thought." He flashes me a smirk, squeezing my shoulder gently. "It was an awesome shot, though."
"Thanks."
"You did good, Arlo!" Monday sings, waving her little blue pom-poms like the cutie she is. As Mom pulls Lakely into her arms in the corner of my eye, I crouch and swallow the lump in my throat as I wonder if our kid will be a girl who shakes pom-poms at my games, or maybe a boy in the team colors with a soccer ball in his hands.
"Thanks, Days. Did you like watchin'?"
"Uh-huh. I cheered so loud for you. Did you hear?"
"I sure did. You were the loudest of all," I tell her with a grin, tugging her braid before she forgets all about me when she spots the cotton candy cart.
Straightening up, I let my family fawn over me until my friends make their way over.
"Great goal, man. Nailed it," Demetri says, but he seems distracted, and when his eyes slide down to the where the words across my chest are now covered again by my shirt, I remember that I have some explaining to do.
"Thanks, Dee." Looking between him and Eric, and a few of my teammates glancing over at me, and then at Lakely, I sigh. "What do you say we go for a ride in a bit, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay."
Mom has Lakely's face between her hands when I get over there, but Rylee slams into my side before I can tell Mom to let go of her.
"You didn't win, but it's okay, Lo. I still love ya."
Snorting, I ruffle her hair and squeeze her to my good side. "Gee, thanks, Buster. That's a glowing compliment. Aren't you supposed to be with Nana and Papa, though?"
She beams, her gap-toothed smile making me laugh even though it hurts. "Momma says it's our job to keep y'all bumble, and they know what ice cream I like."
Huffing a chuckle, I shake my head at her. "Humble, Buster. You're supposed to keep us humble, you cute little brat."
She shrugs. "Whatever."
I'm about to tell her that she's crazy when the girl who personifies crazy slinks over, all fake innocence and sickening, sweet smiles.
"Arlo, babe, you were amazing!"
What the fuck? I thought she was leaving at the end of the summer.
I can feel my friends wondering the same thing as Vicky slips her arms around me from the other side, so I have Rylee under one arm and her under the other. Lakely's hands drop to her stomach and I wish I could hug the nerves out of her, but I kind of have my hands full. Mouthing 'I don't know what's happening,' I hope like hell that she believes me.
Shrugging Vicky off, I widen my eyes at Liam over Vicky's shoulder and hope the 'fucking help me' in my eyes is coming across. "What are you doing, Vicky?"
Her eyes tighten, but her smile only widens. "I'm here to support you, silly. I couldn't miss your opening game, could I? That would make me a pretty shitty girlfriend."
Christ, this girl is completely mental.
Tugging her away from my family, I try not to be an asshole—mostly because I'm legitimately scared of her right now. "We broke up, Vicky. You're not my girlfriend. You're nothing to me. Do you hear me?"
If looks could kill, I'd be a pile of ash right now.
"Arlo, baby—"
"No, I'm not your baby. I'm not your anything." Sighing, I rub the back of my neck and try to think of a way to put this without making her want to murder me. "We were never serious, Vicky. I didn't—don't—love you. I don't even really care about you."
Oof.
Wincing, knowing that was a little harsh, I'm totally expecting the slap she lands across my cheek.
I'm not expecting the whirlwind that arrives seconds later.
"Now she's done it," Uncle Sullivan chuckles, Dad and Uncle Gray laughing along with him. Thankfully, the rest of my family isn't back yet, so the kids will miss the show.
Not this one though. She is the show.
"Nobody hurts my brother, bitch!" Before anyone has a chance to say anything, Rylee's blue sneaker is flying. Vicky screeches when it makes contact with her shin, and Rylee follows her solid kick with a growled "That's what you get."
"Buster!" Dad croaks, trying valiantly not to laugh while Mom rushes over to pull Rylee away from Vicky.
"What?" my little sister asks, eyebrow cocked as she looks between Mom and Dad. "That's what Momma called her. Actually...you said she was a skanky bitch, right, Momma?"
Mom goes bright red but she doesn't tell Rylee off. Instead, she pushes her toward my uncles and turns her attention to an equally red-faced, furious Vicky. "So you're the one who gave my son drugs."
Vicky's eyes snap over to me, but if she thinks I'm gonna save her, she's wrong. So wrong.
Leaning in close, Mom pulls out the scary voice. The one we all run from, even Dad. "If I ever see you near my son again, or any of my children for that matter, there will be consequences. My nine-year-old will be the least of your concerns, do you understand me?"
I can tell Vicky wants to fight back, but Mom is terrifying when the momma bear claws come out.
"You can't threaten me," she says, but honestly, even she doesn't sound like she believes it.
Mom laughs, no humor in it whatsoever. "You're funny. And naive. I mean it...Vicky, is it? Stay away from my son, and while you're at it, stay away from Lakely. You do not want to mess with me."
My eyes flash to Lakely, warmth spreading through me. Dad has her tucked under his arm while he whispers something in her ear. She laughs and blushes, staring right at me with a small smile when Vicky realizes she isn't going to win and flounces away.
"We'll make sure the trash is really gone," Heidi mutters, stalking after her with Charlotte on her heels as I suck in a big breath and drape my arm around Mom.
"She's not done," she whispers, leaning into my side.
Frowning, I cock my head. "What do you mean?"
"I saw the look on that girl's face, Arlo." Looking up at me, Mom shakes her head with a sad smile. "I always knew you'd be a heartbreaker one day, I just didn't think you'd pick the crazy ones."
"I don't pick the crazy ones," I protest, gaze sliding back over to Lakely and Dad. She's watching Heidi and Charlotte marching Vicky past the bleachers, and I smile without thinking when she relaxes once Vicky is out of sight.
"Not all the time, I suppose," Mom teases, reaching up to tap my cheek. My ears heat up, which only makes her laugh. "All right, come on, Romeo. I think it's time we all went home and had a proper talk, don't you?"
"Actually, I uh...I kind of need to fill the guys in. Can I meet you at home in an hour? Please?"
Glancing between me and my friends loitering nearby, she finally nods. "All right, but only an hour. And your team medic needs to sign you off first. We've got a lot to discuss."
"Thanks, Momma. You're the best." Kissing the top of her head, I jerk my chin at the guys and wave Lakely over, draping my arm around her shoulders as I offer to drop her off at Burger Co. if she doesn't want to come with me to explain everything to our friends.
Sighing, she shakes her head and leans into me. "We've both been secretive enough already. I think we owe them all the truth now."
~ oOo ~
Hours later, I crawl into bed exhausted, my body aching and my head pounding. The medic caught me and hauled me away for a check-up before I was allowed to leave, so I know I'm fine, but man. I'm still going to be feeling this tomorrow.
After filling our friends in on...everything, Lakely and I sat down with my parents and had the conversation we probably should have had a week ago. I grin at my ceiling as I remember Mom's face when I asked if Lakely could stay over once we were all talked out.
.
"Are you kidding me, Lo? No."
"Why not?" I ask, throwing my hands up in the air as Lakely babbles that she doesn't mind going back to the apartment. "It's not like she can get any more pregnant."
Dad snorts, earning himself a pretty lethal stink-eye from Mom. "What? He's kind of right, short stuff."
With an eye roll and an exasperated sigh, she gets up from the table and grabs her keys from the kitchen counter. "I'll give you a ride back to the apartment, Lakely."
.
After watching them drive away an hour ago, my bed feels weirdly empty. I only make it a few more minutes before I reach over to the nightstand and unplug my cell, hitting the little Facetime icon.
After three rings, she picks up, her face shadowed until she reaches over her head to turn on a lamp.
"Hey. Can't sleep?"
"Naw," I admit, rolling onto my back as Lakely props her phone on...a pillow, I guess...tucking her hand under her head and lying back down. "You?"
"No. I'm so tired, but my brain…"
With a rueful smile, I tell her I get it. "It's all a lot to process, huh."
"Understatement," she snorts. "Your parents were really great about it all," Lakely finally breathes after a few minutes of heavy silence.
"Yeah. They've been awesome so far. I'm lucky."
As soon as the words slip out, I wish I could take them back. Watching her pull her lip between her teeth in the low light of the lamp above the bed, I grumble a curse.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"Hey, it's okay. I know you didn't mean anything by it."
"Have you heard from them?"
Shaking her head, Lakely quickly reaches up to wipe her eyes.
"Fuck. I'm sorry, Lakers."
"It's okay, it's not your fault. Your mom says she's going to try calling them tomorrow, so I guess...I guess we'll probably see if they've changed their minds about me after that."
"If they haven't, they don't deserve you, Lakers. You're sweet and smart and you don't deserve the way they treated you."
It makes my blood boil just thinking about them tossing her out onto the street like trash. She's their daughter, for Christ's sake. And she made a mistake—we made a mistake. But that doesn't make her the devil. It makes her human.
Watching her cry over her asshole parents kills me, but I remind her that I'm here for her and so is my family, staying with her on the phone until she's all cried out and admits that she just wants to be able to sleep without reliving that day, without seeing her mom and dad's disappointed faces over and over in her dreams.
Whether her parents pull their heads out of their asses or not, she has us, all of us. My parents aren't over-the-moon excited about me becoming a dad at seventeen, but at least I know they'll support me with whatever we decide.
Lakely...Lakely doesn't have that same reassurance, but she does have me, flawed and clueless as I am.
I wish she were here. I wish I could hug her and tell her everything's gonna be okay.
I guess all I can do is try to show her that things will work out instead.
It would just be nice if I had a clue where to start.