Anything Less Than Everything (5 page)

“Well, I hope
they at least feed you well there. I mean, with roommates on the prowl and
drills that cause you to hurt yourself, there ought to be something good in
it.”

He must have
heard the smile in my voice, because he laughed a little before answering.
“It’s not bad, but they are seriously lacking in the beverage department.”

“What? No Dr.
Pepper??” I teased back, remembering how he had added a bottle to our pizza purchase.

“None. Not at
our group meals, not in the vending machines. Nowhere.”

“How do they
expect you to perform to your full potential without adequate hydration?” I
asked.

“See, that’s
exactly what I was thinking. It’s tragic, really.”  I laughed at his mock
seriousness.

“However will
you survive the next two days?”

“It’s going
to be tough. A bruised hamstring I can handle; a day without DP...I don’t
know.” We laughed together and the conversation moved to other topics about as
serious as the lack of Dr. Pepper. It wasn’t until I heard my parents coming
back into the house that I looked over at the clock on my nightstand. It was
eleven o’clock. We’d been on the phone for nearly three hours.

“I hate to
end this,” I said, “but it’s late, and I have to mentally prepare myself for an
entire day of shopping with my friend Marcie.”

“You’re
right,” he replied. “My alarm will be ringing before I know it to get me up for
morning drills.”

“Talk to you
soon?” I asked. Hoped.

“Absolutely,”
he replied. “Sweet dreams, Brooke.” He was gone before I could reply.

There was no
way I was going to fall asleep, so I went into the kitchen to find something to
drink. Mom was sitting at the counter, the newest issue of
Heritage Rose
in
front of her. She looked up, smiled slightly, and then returned to her magazine
flipping. “Who have you been talking to all night?” she asked.
So she’s
talking to me again
, I thought.

“A friend of
mine.” Vague is always best with parents. It gives them the information they
want without necessitating long drawn out conversations. Unfortunately, by
answering her question I had also admitted that I had, in fact, been on the
phone all night. I tried to backtrack, and said something minimizing the time
spent on the phone, but Mom wasn’t buying it.

“Brooke. I
tried to call you at 8:30 and your phone went straight to voicemail. I get home
at 11:00 and you’re still talking. That’s what I’d call all night.”

I sighed,
exasperated.

“I was
talking to my friend Aaron Davidson. You met him at Nana’s house the other
night. He’s in town at a camp for elite college athletes. He was stuck in his
room icing an injury, so he called to say hi. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”
Mom asked, accusation thick in her voice. I knew what she meant, what she
wanted to know.

“Yes, Mother,
that’s it. Aaron and I became friends over the weekend. But that’s it.
Friends.”

She turned
back to the article she was reading. “Just be careful, Brooke. Making friends
with cute boys is not going to help you patch things up with Spencer.”

I could not
believe what she was saying. No words came; I just stared at her in disgust. I
assumed Jill had told my parents about the fiancée, the cheating. Apparently I
was wrong. Still, her words stung like I’d been slapped. Now I had a choice: to
defend myself, explain Spencer’s indiscretions or go back to my room and pack
faster. I chose the latter.

I
purposefully stayed in bed until I
was sure my mother had left the house for work. I’d been up most of the night thinking
about--no, stewing about--what she’d said the night before, and I was in no
mood to talk to her again.  But then I looked over at the nightstand, saw my
phone, and remembered my conversation with Aaron. Just thinking about it made
me smile. Maybe if I just spent every night talking to him on the phone I could
avoid all conversations with my parents until I moved out. Passive aggressive?
Perhaps. Effective? Definitely. Still, the time I’d spent with him felt like a
gift, and I felt the need to reciprocate. But with what? More of my stimulating
conversation? Yeah, right.

“Tell me
again why we have to go to the University before lunch?”

“I never told
you the first time,” I answered, pulling into the parking lot of the dorm Aaron
told me he was staying in. “Stay here. I’ll be back in two minutes.” The idea
had come to me upon seeing an empty Coke can Jill had left on the counter. A
quick stop at the grocery was all it took to put the plan in motion. I grabbed
the case of Dr. Peppers from the back seat and headed for the entrance, leaving
a very confused Marcie behind.

“Can I help
you?” the college student working the front desk asked as I approached.

“Yes. I was
wondering if I could leave these for someone staying here for the ProEdge
camp.”

“Sure. What’s
his name?” She grabbed a sticky note to write down the information.

“Aaron
Davidson. He’ll know who it’s from,” I answered.

“I’ll take
care of it,” she said. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that
it’s. Thanks!” I headed out to the car, trying to hide my smile as I slid in
next to Marcie.

“Are you
going to tell me what that was about?” she asked, a look of utter confusion on
her face.

“Nothing to
tell. I just needed to drop something off for a friend.” She shook her head and
rolled her eyes. She knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to give away
any more information.

We discussed
colors and textures over chicken salad croissants and fruit tea. Marcie had a
lot of good ideas, and even offered to help me make knockoffs of some of the
pricier pieces of art and accessories we saw in the catalogs she brought with
her. “You have a list. Now we’ll just buy what you like and make it fit into
the areas we’ve identified. You can always take back what doesn’t work,” she
pointed out. That made sense to me. I put down the pages of lamp options she’d
printed off and returned to my meal. My phone buzzed before I could take the
first bite, though. I touched the screen to wake it and saw the waiting
message:
You are incredible
, it said.

I quickly
typed back,
I have no idea what you are talking about. ;)

Ha. You
going to be around tonight?

Should be.
Lots of exciting packing to do.

Can I call
you?

That was a
silly question. I texted back that of course he could call me. Hmm, maybe my
plan of avoiding my parents by talking to Aaron every night wasn’t so
far-fetched after all.

“Who is
that?” Marcie asked. I had almost forgotten she was there.

“A friend,” I
replied. It was the truth, but she looked unconvinced.

“Does this
have anything to do with the Dr. Peppers?”

“Possibly.”
That was mine and Aaron’s joke, and I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone
else.

“Okay, what
is going on?” Marcie said in her best teacher voice. Had she been standing up,
her hands would no doubt have been on her hips.

“Nothing,” I
said innocently.

“Yeah, right.”
She starting ticking off my offenses on her fingers. “First you take us on some
covert operation to deliver Cokes to a college dorm, then you start texting at
the table, which you
never
do, and now you’re smiling like you’re hiding
something. So quit hiding and let me in the loop!”

“I’m not
hiding anything.” I wasn’t sure how much to tell her. I didn’t want her jumping
to conclusions like my mother did.

“Will you at
least tell me his name?”  

“Why do you
assume it’s a guy?” I asked.

“Oh, please,
Brooke. I haven’t seen you smile like that in the whole year I have known you.
It has to be a guy.” She had me there. Aaron did have a way of making me smile.

“Okay, he.” I
paused before going on. Why was I hiding Aaron from everyone? A friendship was
nothing to hide. And so I told her. About meeting him at my grandmother’s
house. About seeing Spencer on the lake. About the talk in the garden. When I
got to the part about the almost kiss, I stopped. Other than that brief flash
when Aaron called, I hadn’t even thought about it since that night. Strange.
You’d think that would be all I’d thought about, but it just didn’t seem all
that relevant. Now that it had entered my mind, though, I let my thoughts
linger there. I supposed it was a product of the intensity of the conversation,
of sharing so much with each other. That our emotional closeness kind of called
for a physical closeness. I was certain no one would buy that, not that I was
planning to tell anyone, anyway. I shook the thought from my mind and took a deep
breath, waiting for Marcie to respond.

“I cannot
believe you didn’t tell me any of this.” She almost sounded offended.

“Well, it’s
not exactly fun to talk about. It’s embarrassing, actually.”

“Why?” she
asked, shocked. “You were an incredible girlfriend to him, and he threw you to
the side. Men!” she finished, throwing her hands into the air.

I laughed a
little at her outburst. “Seriously, Brooke,” she continued. “I’m your friend. I
understand why you wanted to be alone right after the...after, but I want to
know what’s going on in your life. Good and bad.”

“Okay,” I
said. “I promise to keep you in the loop.”

“Good. So,
this new guy.”

“Aaron,” I
said.

“Aaron,” she
repeated. “What’s the deal with him?”

“Nothing.”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’m not being evasive,” I said. “He’s
a friend, and that’s all.”

“For now,”
she said.

“No, not for
now. That’s just what he is, and I’m perfectly happy with that. Really,” I
added as she started to roll her eyes again. “Besides, he lives 500 miles
away.”

“But if he
didn’t?” I sighed, seeing there was no way out from her suspicions.

“He would
still be just a friend. Guys and girls are allowed friendships, right?”

“Of course,”
she answered. “It’s just that usually ‘just friends’ is a decision made by only
one of the people involved. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Why did
people assume a friendship had to be hiding more? Did I like Aaron? Of course,
but not like that.

“As long as
you’re happy, I don’t care what he is,” she said, softening.

“I’m getting
there,” I said with a smile. “Now, are we going to be sappy all day, or are we
going to shop? I’m anxious to move in.”

“Let’s go!” she said, gathering her purse and idea bag.

F
ive hours and $2,500 later, I had an
apartment full of furniture. Well, sort of. Most everything had been purchased,
and bag after bag filled the living room, but the big pieces weren’t being
delivered until the next day. But this would be my last night in my parents’
house, and I could not be happier.

Mom cried
quietly as I started taking heavy boxes down to the garage so I could load up
my car the next morning. She must have thought I wasn’t serious about moving.
But I was. I wasn’t all that mad at her anymore, though. I’d never told her
what really happened and had not shared my feelings when she suggested a
reconciliation between Spencer and me. For those reasons, I was really as much
at fault as she. Nevertheless, I was ecstatic to be starting over with a clean
slate.

I was sitting
on the couch, Diet Coke in hand, watching some silly sitcom when my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen, then jumped up and headed to my room. I heard my mom
say something about my being on the phone all night as I pressed send and
answered.

“Hey,” I
said.

“Hey yourself.”
Aaron’s voice was an instant day maker.

“How’s the
hamstring?” I asked.

“Better. I
might have worked it a little too hard today, though. It’s sore, but nothing
like yesterday,” he replied. It was his turn to ask a question, but he remained
silent on the other end of the line. He was waiting for me to say something.
Baiting me.

“So…what’s
up?”

“Not much,”
he said, a little too innocently. That was obviously the question he’d wanted
me to ask. “Just hanging out, enjoying some delicious Dr. Pepper.”

“I thought
you were on a Dr. Pepper-free campus?”

“I am,” he
replied. “But the Soda Fairy stopped by while I was at practice and dropped
some off.”

“Hmm. That
was nice.”

“It was the
nicest thing anyone has done for me in a very long time. Seriously. Way better
than flowers.”

“It wasn’t a
big deal,” I said. “I just thought it would make you smile.”

“It did. A
lot.” Now
I
smiled. “I’m having to keep a close watch on them, though,”
he continued. “All the guys are trying to steal them.”

From there we
each shared about our day. He described plays and drills that confounded even
my pretty high football IQ. I told him about shopping with Marcie, about the
many purchases I had made. “So when is it you’re moving?” he asked.

“Tomorrow. My
new bed and mattress are being delivered between twelve and two. I can wait on
the other stuff if I need to, but as long as I have a bed, I’m staying the
night.”

“You sound
awful anxious to leave,” he observed.

“You have no
idea.”

“Oh, come on.
They can’t be that bad, can they?” I didn’t say anything. “Or maybe they can,”
he finished flatly.

“I love my
family. But you saw them at my grandmother’s that night. They are oblivious to
everything but themselves. My mother wants me to get back together with
Spencer—”

“She
what
?”
Aaron practically spat the words. “After what he did?”

“Well, she
doesn’t exactly know about what happened on the lake.” I felt embarrassed
admitting this.

“You didn’t
tell her?”

“No. It
seemed easier to stay quiet on the subject. Telling her would have meant
talking about it for hours. I was not in the mood. I’m still not.”

“But she
wants you to get back together with him?”

“Yes. And Dad
wants to ignore anything even hinting of romance where his daughters are
concerned. Jill wants me to move out so she’ll have a new place to make out
with Dave,--”

He cut me off
again. “But what do you want, Brooke?” I thought about it for several seconds.
It was a difficult question to answer, seeing as how I hadn’t been asked that
in who knew how long.

“I want to be
left alone to make my own decisions. And I want to spend the evening talking to
you, but about happy things,” I added.

“I like that
answer,” he said. “Especially the second part.”

“You mean my
drama doesn’t scare you?” I asked with a joking voice, but the question was
serious. So far our friendship consisted of Aaron picking me up after
embarrassing moments and me crying. it had to be getting old.

Aaron didn’t
miss a beat. “I have sisters, Brooke. I’m used to drama. But your drama isn’t
self-inflicted, so it’s different.”

“Different
how?” This I was interested to hear.

“When you
bring drama on yourself, you annoy your friends and run them off. When other
people force you into their drama, your friends circle around you and help you
through it. And, it so happens that I have really long arms, so I can make that
circle around you by myself if I have to.”

I imagined
him actually wrapping his arms around me, how strong and safe that would feel.
There’s no way I could tell him that, of course, as he might think my feelings
for him were more than platonic. I was afraid that if said it my feelings for
him might
become
more than just platonic. “Well, then I’m glad I have
you as a friend,” I said instead. “But it stinks that you’re leaving tomorrow.
It would have been nice to see you again.”

“My thoughts exactly,”
he said. I smiled, relieved that that hadn’t scared him off. “I wish I had a
later flight, then we could have lunch or something, but Nashville to Detroit
apparently isn’t a popular route.”

“Well, maybe
next time.” He didn’t respond. We both knew there would be little reason for
him to come back to Tennessee any time soon.

I decided to
steer the conversation to safer topics. “So you’re going back to school? Not
home?”

“Nah,” he
said. “I’ll go home at least once for a visit before fall camp, but I stay at
school for the most part. We can’t practice, but we can use the facilities for
working out and stuff.”

As much time
as I’d spent watching football games, I’d never given much thought to what the
players did in the offseason to prepare. I imagined Aaron lifting weights,
running, watching film. He laughed when I told him that.

“Well, yeah,
I do,” he said, “but there’s lots of video game playing, trips to the lake and
work in there, too.” I knew that Aaron worked at a golf course across the
street from campus. Basically he rode around in a golf cart fetching beers and
whatever else the rich country clubbers wanted. It was hot, he’d said, but the
pay was good, and he could play all the golf he wanted for free.

Our
conversation continued, but it was only a matter of time before it returned to
his leaving. I wasn’t sure why it mattered; it wasn’t like we’d been hanging
out the last few days or anything, but something about him being only a few
towns over made our new friendship feel more certain. I was afraid of what
would happen once he got back to school and all his friends.

Neither of us
had said anything for a several moments. I didn’t want the conversation to end,
but we both needed to go pack, though for very different reasons.

“Hey.
Brooke,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “I’m really glad Brad asked me
to ride down with him.”

“Me, too. I’m
not sure how I would’ve handled this weekend on my own.”

“You’d have
been fine, but I’m glad you didn’t have to be.”

“Yeah. Will
you call me tomorrow to let me know you’ve made it home safely?” I asked.

“You know I
will.”

My phone
beeped then. The battery was dying. “I guess it’s trying to tell me we’ve
talked enough for one night,” I said.

“We’ll just
have to save some things for next time.” I smiled. Becoming friends with Aaron
was the last thing I expected when I spotted him in my grandmother’s living
room, but it was by far the best thing that had ever happened to me there.

“Sweet dreams,
Brooke.” And, as just like before, he hung up before I could reply.