“Ivy,” Coach says, snapping me out of my daze. “Step to it.”
I grab my backpack and head to the exit. When I get to the parking lot, Luca is propped against the car. I’m glad he is ready, so I don’t have to sit here or walk home. Then he says, “There’s a memorial for Remy.”
“Yeah. And I don’t want to go.”
“Maybe we should.”
He was Luca’s friend, not mine. “You go ahead; I’ll wait here.”
“I want you to come too.”
“Why? I didn’t even know the guy that well.” I clear my throat, trying to keep the anger out, but it’s useless. “I don’t want to sit in a room of people who pretend to know him, say nice, sympathetic things about him while crying over him when they didn’t give a second thought to him when he was alive. It doesn’t matter what they do now that he’s dead. They should’ve said whatever they had to say before he died, when it would’ve actually counted.”
His hand catches mine as I turn to walk away. “What do you wish you would’ve said to your mom?”
It’s true. I was talking about her. But it’s not what I would’ve said, it’s what I shouldn’t have said.
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter now. She’s dead.” I yank my arm out of his clutches and hurry away. We’re miles from the house, but I can walk. It’d actually be beneficial right now. Because I need to rein in my emotions.
Pulling my blazer off, I shove it into my bag, then untuck my shirt and loosen a few of the buttons. Luca is right on my heels, not that I figured he’d give up easily.
“Ivy, just talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck and forget or maybe even get some food. So, if it’s not one of those, then we have nothing to discuss.”
Swiftly, he’s behind me, his chest to my back as he bends me over, my hands steadying myself on a random car. “Just fuck right here. That’s what you want?”
“Not necessarily right here, but I certainly don’t want to go to a goddamn pep-slash-death rally.”
He turns me to face him. The same anger I first saw in him is there as he tells me, “You’ve been running from your own demons since the moment his death brought them to the surface. If you keep on, they’ll consume you until there’s nothing left.”
I swallow down the ache that I don’t want to acknowledge, because I don’t want to cry. “Thanks for the advice.”
He surprisingly doesn’t stop me when I march away from him. And I’m so very thankful. Because I feel it on the surface; something is bubbling up that I’ll say and regret later. But no matter what, it won’t be as bad as what I said to her.
I’m about a mile from school when he pulls the car halfway out of the lane and up to the side of me. I keep walking as he crawls along beside me. Thankfully, my nerves are steadier, but he’s wearing on them. There’re vehicles honking and swerving as they zoom past him. When I stop, he does too but when I turn to look at him, he keeps his gaze on the road ahead like this behavior is normal.
Fucker is going to make me insane.
I pull open the passenger door and drop in the seat. “It’s too fucking hot to walk anyway.”
There’s a sexy smirk on his mouth as he says, “Whatever you have to say, because you gave in so easily.”
“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s working,” I tell him before he reaches over, his palm on my thigh as he squeezes.
“Good.”
He drops me off at my house and surprisingly leaves. When I see Anthony, we have a quick conversation in passing before I head up to my room and shower because I feel irritated and dirty. I pull on a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt, then lie across the bed and stare at the ceiling.
A message dings and I think it’s going to be Luca but it’s Brooke.
Brooke: The memorial sucked. Cain tried to speak but got choked up. I just cried the entire time. There’re planning to do something else before kickoff too and at halftime. I’m going to need hard liquor to get through the freaking night.
That actually sounds appealing.
Ivy: The drinking I’m on board for. Not going to the game though.
Brooke: Okay. Meet me in the parking lot. You don’t have to go in the stadium.
