Chapter Two: A Match to a Ball of Lies

The pressure had been building for weeks. Every time he smiled and nodded as Lyla made another plan, he felt like he was adding bricks to an unsteady pile that would one day topple and crush him. He told himself he just had to get through the summer. Billy always said not to burn bridges. But it was hard, feeling like he was trussing himself up in a series of little lies and glib assurances.

Tim realized he had to light the match and watch the fire burn just as Lyla was kissing a hot, lazy trail down his chest, her hands deftly popping open the buttons of his fly as she murmured about going to visit him in San Antonio over the homecoming weekend.

"Hold on a second," he rasped.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked, barely pulling her mouth away from his skin. She popped the last button, and he felt sharp nails pull back the waistband of his briefs to allow hot, soft fingers to slip inside.

His breath caught in his throat, and it was so tempting to just shake his head and let her continue. But the rain pounding on the windshield sounded to him like the truth demanding to be let in. He grabbed her hands and eased them away. Lyla pulled back from him. He could see hurt and confusion on her face.

"Tim?"

He rebuttoned his fly and pulled his shirt closed, then took a deep breath and raked his hand through his hair. When he looked over at Lyla, she'd shifted over to the passenger side of the truck, her back pressed against the door and her expression still uncertain. He was grateful for the distance, since it would make it easier for him to think, but it was a bitter moment because he knew she'd never touch him again, certainly not that way.

"Lyla, I been thinking about this a lot. You and me. You need to go to Vanderbilt without any strings or commitments."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, I want you to have the whole, the best college experience. Parties, friends, everything. That's not going to happen if you're tied to me."

"But I love you Tim. You're the one I want and I don't care if you're a thousand miles away. There's the phone and email and cheap airfare and if we want to stay together badly enough, we can."

"I love you too.....so much. But Lyla, it's not enough."

She looked at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. He could nearly pinpoint the exact second that her confusion gave way to anger and suspicion.

"What's going on here, Tim?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this really about what's best for me? Or do you want to go to San Antonio State a free man? Are you the one who really wants the whole, best college experience?"

"It's not like that."

"Oh, really Tim? Then what is it like? Explain it to me."

"I'm not going."

"What are you talking about?"

"College. San Antonio State. I'm not going." He was amazed at the relief he felt, like he'd pushed that pile of bricks over and managed to leap out of the way with only a few scratches.

Momentarily at a loss for words, she blinked several times before responding. "But Tim. You're not....I don't know what you think you're doing, but this opportunity – you can't just throw it away."

"I'm not going."

"This is ridiculous. Does Billy know?"

Tim looked down at the steering wheel and shook his head.

"Then let's go talk to Billy. Maybe he can convince you that you're making a terrible mistake. Because you are, Tim. You are."

"No, I'm not. It's my decision and it's done. My scholarship is gone. My place is taken. It's all done."

"What? But when?"

"Two days after Billy's wedding."

"Tim! That was three months ago."

"I know." He'd always lived by the rule that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission, but he'd known for weeks that this was a situation where he'd get neither. Certainly not from Lyla.

She turned her head and stared out the window into the rain. A flash of lightening lit the sky and Tim counted in his head until the thunder rumbled. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she slapped it away.

"Take me home."

"Lyla-"

"Now."

He looked at the stubborn set of her chin. The tightness of her folded arms. The stiffness to her back. He sighed and started the truck without argument. Before he put it in gear, he tried one last time.

"Lyla, look at me."

She refused to turn her head. He opened his mouth a few times before giving up. The fifteen-minute drive to her house felt like three lifetimes.

When he pulled up at her place, she waited until the truck stopped and then climbed out calmly. The only sign of their fight was the barely controlled slam of her door. She walked slowly, like she didn't notice the rain. He watched and waited until the door closed behind her, then he drove away.