Chapter Twenty-Four

Elle

       “Elle! Nick! I’m so happy you’re here!” Meredith said, ushering us into the house. “Blake is working and Jack has a football game! Fall is always so crazy!”

       “I know exactly where you’re coming from,” I said, noting that she was dressed in pants suit, looking rather professional.

       “You two don’t even know how big a help you are!” she said, taking a sip from the Styrofoam cup that was in her hand. “Kids! Elle and Nick are here!”

       “So, Jack has a football game. Does that mean that we’re taking Jack, or all of them?” I asked, seeking clarification for the whereabouts of the other two for the afternoon.

       “Though they most likely will protest, Kennedy and Bella are to support their brother at his football game. Get Bella an ice cream or something and she’ll be fine. Kennedy is the harder sell,” Meredith said, as multiple pairs of feet were heard stomping down that staircase.

       “Nick!” Bella screamed, removing her hand from the railing, and gliding past the banister. She charged into Nick, giving him a big hug.

       “Hi,” Nick said calmly, as she backed up from their embrace.

       “What happened to your hand?” the tot asked, pointing to Nick’s… battle wound. As awful as it was, it still made me smirk every time anyone brought up his injury.

       “I hit it against a wall by accident,” he said simply, brushing it off as if it were no big deal.

       “Oh,” she said, accepting the answer.

       “Are you okay?” Meredith questioned, now taking an interest in Nick.

       “I’m fine,” he said, facing her.

       “You look different,” Kennedy stated.

       “Maybe,” Nick smiled. Compared to the first time he had interacted with the kids, he did look different.

       The first point of contact Nick had had with them he was wearing darker colors and looked straight up sketchy. Before we came over, I reminded him about his first impression on Meredith, and we both agreed that his second impression should be one of a higher standard. He was currently wearing boat shoes, a pink polo, and stripped shorts. It was a much better look for him than ripped jeans and T-shirts. Though the style irked me, preppy suited him.

       “I expect to be back at around six or so. I’ll put Bella to bed when I get back, but if you two could do dinner, that’d be great,” Meredith said, slinging a black, hefty, leather purse over her shoulder, and approaching the door.

       “Mommy, don’t go!” Bella cried, running over to her and wrapping her arms around Meredith’s leg.

       “Bella, I love you, but I have to go. Nick and Elle are here, and you still have Kenny and Jack,” Meredith said evenly.

       “Do you want to go color, Bella?” Nick proposed helpfully.

       “Yeah!” she said, detaching herself from her mother and skipping off with Nick to another region of the house.

       “She’s annoying!” Kennedy whined.

       “So are you,” Jack said.

       “Please don’t argue,” Meredith begged, opening up the door. “Elle, I wish you luck. Love you guys! Bye!” She exited the house, closing the door securely behind her.

       “What time’s your game?” I asked Jack, as Kennedy groaned.

       “Two,” he replied.

       “It’s one-fifteen now, how far away is the park?”

       “Ten minutes.”

       “Go get your stuff, we’re leaving now,” I said, allowing no room for further questions or complaints. He left the room, leaving Kennedy and I alone.

       I sighed, deciding it was time to start with Kennedy. I did something I try to avoid, and looked her in the eye. I didn’t blink, and neither did she. It was an unspoken starring contest, and it appeared as though no one would be winning or losing.

       “I’m not going to that football game,” Kennedy said, losing the game by closing her eyes for a brief millisecond.

       “Yes, you are,” I said. In my senior year of high school, my parents pushed me into joining the debate team. I loved it. Arguing for the sake of arguing appealed to me. They wanted me to see how it could be if I decided to take up law. Being a lawyer is one of my options, but considering I’m only in my freshman year of college, I still have time.

       “No, I’m not,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

       “Why not?” I demanded.

       “Because Jack is on the same team as Ben Summers’ brother,” she explained, leaving a vast amount of room for questioning and interpretation.

       “Who is Ben Summers, and why does it matter that his brother is on the same football team as Jack?”

       “Ben goes to all his brother’s games. If I go, I’ll see him there.”

       “Are you avoiding him?” I asked.

       “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” she said, beginning to fiddle with her bracelets with the use of her idol hands.

       “Why?”

       “Because Ben asked out my ex-best friend, Maya, the day before I was going to text him,” she said, causing me to think about how thankful I was that I was no longer in middle school. Those years were rough and confusing.

       “Okay… You don’t have to talk to him,” I said, thinking about the situation logically.

       “I do, because two days ago, he dumped Maya and then I heard a rumor that he wanted to ask me out next, but I don’t want to go out with him, because then it would give Maya a leg up, and ugh!” she said, bringing a word I hadn’t thought about in a while into mind.

       Rumors. Of all the bad things middle school was filled with, those gossipy lies were the worst. I don’t know about public school, but in private school, with less than fifty kids per grade, rumors spread like wildfire. One person would say something, and it could ruin a kid. I had my life ruined on more than one occasion.

       In about sixth grade, I was caught hugging this annoying boy named Nick Ross. We were about twelve, and as I remember it, Nick had paint on his hands and wanted to see my reaction when touched by the slippery, wet, gooey stuff. I was pissed to say the least, and because of that small hug, the next day everyone thought I had a crush on him. Ha.

       Middle school is probably one of the worst chapters in life. It’s filled with fake people, and you don’t know whom you can trust, and who will turn their back on you without a second thought. You can’t be yourself and please society. From my experience, I’d say it’s one step up from hell.

       “You don’t have to talk to him,” I reiterated.

       “Kenny, are you complaining about Ben again?” Jack asked, returning to the room with a large duffle bag over his shoulder.

       “Don’t call me that!” she huffed.

       “Nick! Bella!” I called, assuming we were ready to go.

       “What?” Nick yelled back.

       “We’re going!” I said, as they both appeared with pieces of paper in their hands.

       “Where?” Bella asked, handing Nick her paper.

       “To Jack’s football game,” I answered.

       “I don’t want to go,” she said shortly.

       “I’ll get you and ice cream or something,” I said, using the bribe Meredith has suggested.

       “Okay!” she grinned. “Let’s go!”

       “Can I get an ice cream or something too?” Nick requested, pouting.

       “No,” I said firmly, turning away from him. We left the house, and that was that.

Nick

       “You know, I play football,” I said, turning into the parking lot as instructed.

       “You do?” Jack said skeptically.

       “Yeah, I’m playing for Harvard this year, actually,” I said.

       “Sick,” he complimented (at least, I took it as a compliment).

       “I hate football,” Kennedy said, as I parked John’s car into a nice big space. We had borrowed his car (without asking) yet again just in case an outing like this occurred.

       “You don’t hate it, you just don’t understand it,” I corrected her naïve thoughts.

       “Guys running around in tights, jumping on each other. What’s there to understand?” she said, reminding me a bit of Elle’s attitude towards one of the greatest American games of all time.

       “Can you believe her, Bella?” I asked, hoping to add yet another to my cause.

       “No!” she shook her head dramatically. “Kenny just doesn’t understand!”

       “I know!” I said, assuming that Bella had not a clue as to what Jack and I had been discussing.

       “You guys are all so annoying!” Kennedy burst, climbing out of the high car.

       “Aren’t they?” Elle agreed, following in suit.

       “We’re not that annoying,” I objected, getting out of the car as Jack helped his youngest sister with her complicated seatbelt.

       “Yeah!” Bella supported.

       “So, Bella, tell me, do you have a favorite sport?” I asked once she was safely out of her car seat, tugging on my hand.

       “I like soccer a lot because the ball is white and black and I think that that makes the ball prettier than just one color- also, I like to run around and it’s fun!” she said, explaining herself to perfection. John used to play soccer… I think.

       “Oh? Have you ever watched your brother play football?” was my next question.

       “I’ve seen Jacky play football lots of times!” she expressed, as we followed Jack, Kennedy, and Elle into the small park the game was being held at. The girls and I hiked our ways onto cool, metal bleachers as Jack dispersed to go get prepared.

       “This is so stupid,” Kennedy sulked.

       “I agree completely, but we’re here to support your- Jake?” Elle gaped. The name sent shivers down my spine.

       A boy I used to look up to, consider a brother, and play catch with had stolen my girl in a matter of months. I knew I was at some amount of fault, considering the fact that I kinda, sorta, maybe let her go by choosing to take skiing pro, but hey, I’m dude, we make mistakes. Letting Elle slip away from me was the biggest mistake I have made thus far in my life. Jake. Of all the people, why him?

       Jake is your average American good ol’ boy. Growing up, his main sports were football and baseball with the addition of skiing in the winter and around five other sports when he had time, much like me. Grades wise he was never the smartest, and that’s where I had the leg up. As dorky as it is to admit, I’m a bit of a nerd. Not a geek- a nerd. There’s a difference. Nerds are intellectually “gifted” and geeks are just lame.

       Anyways, although Jake was a year older than me, I was still smarter. Popularity is where the stats get complicated. In my mind, popularity is nonexistent. It’s a bunch of bullshit for people who have a constant need to be followers. I am mostly definitely not a follower, which I suppose makes me a leader. I never went with the flow or followed trends- I was the flow and started trends.

       Though it sounds terribly conceited, there’s something about me that’s almost… magnetic. People are drawn to me. Maybe it’s because I’m the hottest thing to walk this earth, or because I’m funny and have a great personality- it’s one of those mysteries that will never be solved. All I know is people like hanging with me. I’m Nick Freaking Ross, who wouldn’t love me?

       I think the only thing Jake may have on me is in the politeness department. Yes, I’m incredibly charming and perfect, but he’s a bit more… humble, not that I’m not. He understates his accomplishments and the majority of what he does, which I totally get. It works for him. Fine. I’m still hotter than him.

       “Elle?” the devil said, approaching us with a windbreaker on and a clipboard in his hands.

       “Hi Coach!” Bella said, letting go of my fingers to go give “Mr. Perfect” a high-five.

       “Hey Bella!” he said, smiling at her.

       “Do you know Nick?” the girl asked, pointing at me.

       “I do,” he said, nodding at me.

       “So do I!” she exclaimed. “Once, he came over my house and we played together and he was the pony and it was so much fun because he’s my friend, is he your friend too?”

       Color grew in my cheeks as Jake gave me a look as if to say, “Pony, huh?” I ignored the glance, glaring at him all the same.

       “Last time I checked he was my friend, you should ask him,” Jake said, twisting with the mind of a four year old in a way I didn’t even know was possible.

       “Nick, are you and Jake friends?” Bella questioned as recommended, looking deeply into my eyes.

       “Of course,” I said lightly, noting how Elle was taking it. She was staring at both of us, and I assumed she waiting to jump in at the first snide remark made.

       “Jake,” Elle said, pressing her lips to his cheek, “what are you doing here?”

       “I’m doing some community service work by coaching.” Of course he was…

       “That’s so great!” she said in awe.

       “Coach,” Bella mused, “are you and Elle in love?” My jaw dropped. I briefly turned my attention to Kennedy, wondering how she had somehow stayed out of this conversation. Her fingers were viciously tapping away at her phone, as her expression remained stolid. Kids these days…

       Jake thought about it for a moment, before confidently responding with, “Yeah, I guess we are. Right Elle?”

       I looked over to Elle, and she quickly glanced at me, her eyes filled with regret and remorse. “I guess so,” she said, blindly lying to herself.

       If it took a four year old to influence how they expressed their emotions to one another, that’s a dead giveaway that there’s something corrupt in the relationship. Though they didn’t verbally admit that they loved each other, it was implied, and it hurt. When Elle’s hypnosis eventually wears off, her feelings for me will not longer be invisible. When exactly it wears off, is the true question…