Blindsided (6 page)

Willow may have appeared mellow and hippy-like, but her enthusiasm rivalled Hunter’s and they made an excellent comedy duo for the evening.

“Yeah, she is,” Isabelle said. “She’s a good friend.”

An awkward silence echoed around us, and Isabelle sighed.

“So,” I began, “What’s up?”

Surprise crossed her face.

Crap. Wrong thing to say. Take it back, take it back!

For a second, I thought she might walk away because I’d embarrassed her. Who the hell did I think I was? I barely knew her, maybe she was always quieter when she was out with a big group of people.

“Why did you think something might be wrong?” she asked, softly.

So desperate not to say the wrong thing, I paused to choose my words more carefully.

“I … I thought you seemed … I don’t know, forget it.”

I picked up my cup of tea, and sat down at the breakfast bar, hoping she would let me get away with that lame excuse for a conversation. I stared straight ahead, waiting for her footsteps to pad out across the hall carpet, but instead, her heels clicked across the wooden kitchen floor.

“I didn’t dress myself like this,” she said.

As I turned my head, she looked as startled at what she’d said as I was.

“What?”

This time, it was Isabelle who tried to back out of the conversation, and she mumbled a few words that sounded like, “Nothing, sorry, goodnight,” before turning away.

“Wait,” I said, standing up.

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

This is it. Time to make this trip miserable for myself.
I could have let it go, let her go to bed, but if there’s one thing I know about girls, it’s that you can’t start a conversation like this and leave it unfinished. Not without driving them crazy, anyway.

“I think you look amazing,” I said.

I waited as the words found their way to her ears and into her brain, where I was sure she instantly rejected them. But whether she liked me or not, someone needed to tell her how beautiful she was.

“Thank you,” she said. “But I really don’t. This dress is … it’s lovely, but it’s not me.”

“So why did you wear it?”

“Because Georgia wanted to give me a makeover, and I was tired of dressing so … boring.. But then Leon was leering at me, and I … I suppose it was my fault for dressing like this, but -”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “First of all, Leon doesn’t have an ounce of class. Most guys would have appreciated how good you look without staring at you the way he did.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Boys don’t usually … never mind.”
She started to walk away, and I said, “What? You think you need to wear short dresses to get guys to notice you? That’s crap, Isabelle. The reason I thought something might be wrong tonight is because you seemed so uncomfortable. You’re… you’re … beautiful, no matter what you wear. Tonight you just don’t look like  ... you.”

“You don’t know me, Jesse.”

“I know you have some weird idea that Georgia’s prettier than you. I know it took you a half hour to relax after Leon stared at you. I knew that dress wasn’t something you’d choose for yourself before you told me so, and that the girl in the photo you didn’t want to show me is one of the most kind, down-to-earth girls I’ve ever met.”

My palms started to sweat because she didn’t move. Had I scared her? Maybe I’d paid her so much attention in secret that she thought I was like Leon, watching her, but saying nothing.

Excellent, now she thinks I’m a perv.

Her shoulders started to shake, and I realised she was crying. I made her cry.

You’re such an asshole.

“Oh God, Isabelle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -” I trailed off. I’d upset her, but I wasn’t sure exactly which part of my grand speech had done it.

Finally, she turned to face me. The sight of tears streaming down her face hit me deep in my gut. I took a step forward to comfort her before I remembered it was me who caused the crying.

“Okay. Maybe you do know me,” she said.

“No, I don’t, I just talk too much.”

“You got it right. All of it.” She wiped some of her tears away, her face red. “I can’t believe I’m crying in front of you. What an idiot.”

When I took another step closer to her, I felt braver. I slowly put my hand up to her cheek, and brushed away another tear with my thumb. “Now I know you’re not used to wearing so much make-up.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you were used to it, you’d know not to cry while wearing mascara.”

Her eyes widened in panic, making me laugh.

“Well this is great,” she said. “The first time a boy tells me I’m beautiful, and I look like I’ve been punched in the eye!”

“You’re still beautiful.”

Isabelle smiled, her face brightening through her tears. “Thank you.”

I wanted to kiss her so badly. I wanted to hold her against me, to wrap my arms around her and keep her close, but I’d already made enough moves for one night. My thumb was still lightly brushing the soft skin of her cheek, and as I was about to let it drop, she covered my hand with hers. She wove her fingers through mine, her touch warming me.

“I really like you, Jesse. I just don’t understand why you like me. Whenever a guy has shown interest in me before, it’s always been to get closer to Georgia.”

“You think I don’t get what that’s like?” I asked. “I’m a soccer player. Any time a girl hits on me, I never know if it’s because she likes me, or because she wants to be famous. My ex-girlfriend only dated me so she could meet Radleigh McCoy.”

“What? That’s awful!”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s a time in my life I’d like to forget.”

“I never even thought about that. I mean, I know you’re famous in America, and I’m sure girls must chat you up all the time. But I was just thinking -” she trailed off, blushing.

“What were you thinking?”

“That … you’re really good-looking, and friendly, and funny. I liked talking to you. I
like
talking to you.”

I couldn’t help it, I put my hands on her waist, and when her arms slid around me, I pulled her in close.

I’d held Taylor against me this way a million times, but it never once felt the way it did with Isabelle. She was warm and soft, and …  there was a connection between us. How could I have thought I was in love with Taylor, when just having Isabelle in my arms was so much better than anything I ever experienced with her?

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” I asked. “Do you wanna go out for a coffee or something?”

“Like … on a date?”

“Yeah. A date.”

Isabelle smiled up at me, her mascara streaked face perfect to me. She started to giggle. “I’m going on a date with a professional footballer.”

Lame as it is for an eighteen-year-old guy to feel all mushy, Isabelle’s laugh had the ability to shed me of any coolness I possessed.

“I thought you didn’t care about that,” I teased.

“I don’t. But it’s still funny.”

The desire to kiss her was getting stronger, but I still wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Instead, I tightened my arms around her, and kissed the top of her head.

“We should get some sleep,” I said. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah. I suppose we should.”

She sounded reluctant. I felt the same. I didn’t want to let her go. Even though nothing had happened beyond us admitting we were into each other, it had felt like I’d waited so long to get close to her, I wanted to hold onto her a little longer.

“Can we stay here for a few more minutes?” Isabelle asked, burying her head into my shoulder.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

Chapter
Six – Everyone Is Good At Something

Isabelle

“Georgia, wake up!”

My sister let out a small, muffled whimper and covered her head with her arm.

“Georgie!” I said, poking her shoulder, “Wake up, I need to talk to you!”

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled, her blonde hair flicking across her face as she wriggled to get away from me.

“Fine,” I said. “I won’t tell you your makeover worked and Jesse asked me out.”

A moment passed, then Georgia’s eyes sprung open and she sat bolt upright. “What?”

I leaned over and switched on her bedside lamp, causing her to blink a few times at the brightness.

“What did you say?” she asked.

A grin spread across my face. “Jesse. He said … well he said lots of things, but most importantly, he asked if I want to go for a coffee with him tomorrow.”

Georgia’s face lit up, and she threw her arms around me. “This is so amazing!”

“I know!”

“Wait, you need to tell me everything! How did this happen? What did he say?”

Georgia shuffled over on her bed so I could sit down more comfortably – or as comfortably as possible in my tight dress which, suddenly, had become my favourite piece of clothing ever.

“Well,” I began, “Jesse was in the kitchen and I went to say goodnight and he … he asked if I was okay.”

“Ooh, romantic,” Georgia said, with mock sarcasm.

“Shut up! Anyway, he said he thought I seemed a bit … uncomfortable tonight. And he said I don’t need to wear dresses like this to make me look good.”

For a second, I thought Georgia was going to defend her poor judgement, but she sighed.

“Yeah. About that. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have forced it on you.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry. I really do love the dress, it’s just a bit more exposed than I normally like to be. But, it was the thing that got the conversation between Jesse and I started so … I think you made the right choice. You always know what to do when it comes to boys.”

Her face clouded over for a moment. “Not always.”

“Oh, Georgia, I’m sorry, I -”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “I think that gigantic mistake is going to haunt me forever whether we talk about it or not.”

Before I could say anything else, Georgia smiled, and gave me another hug. “So … what else happened?”

Even though we were close, I didn’t want to share every single word he said with her. Not because I didn’t want her to know, but because I wanted to keep them for myself, to process them, and hear them over and over in my mind. If I said them out loud, all I’d be able to hear was me saying those wonderful things. It was his voice I wanted to replay, not mine. I also didn’t need to tell Georgia – or anyone – I’d cried in front of him. I’d had the foresight to at least wash my face before bursting into her room. It was a weird moment, one I hadn’t been expecting. I’d blurted out my insecurities to Jesse, and instead of thinking I was stupid, he showed me I wasn’t invisible.

He saw me.

“There were lots of things,” I told her. “Mostly, I liked it when he said he thinks I’m beautiful.”

“Well, you are!”

“I never felt like I was until he said it.”

As soon as the words left my lips, I cringed at how cheesy I sounded. And not only cheesy, but lame. I’m sure it’s written somewhere in the Girl Handbook that you shouldn’t need a man to tell you you’re pretty. I didn’t
need
it though. I wanted it.

“You’re so cute,” Georgia laughed. “Did you just talk or did he …?”

Wooziness washed over me as I remembered the way he’d held me close to him, and kissed the top of my head. Small steps, but they meant a lot.

“He didn’t kiss me,” I said. “Just as well, I don’t think I could have handled it. Everything happened so fast.”

She reached for my hand, and smiled. “It’ll happen.”

I nodded. “I know.”

My head began to swim as the evening’s events caught up with me.
Jesse Shaw thinks I’m beautiful. He asked me out! We’re going to spend time together tomorrow, without anyone else around.
But before all that, I needed to get some rest. It was almost one in the morning, and I didn’t want to be puffy eyed for our date.

“I should go to bed,” I said. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay. It was definitely worth it. I’m so excited for you!”

“Thanks, Georgia. Sleep well.”

“You too, Izzy.”

In the morning, I woke up with a huge smile on my face. I didn’t even know it was possible to wake up that way, but my cheeks hurt as if I’d been grinning for hours. Snuggling into my duvet to think about the day ahead was tempting, but starting the day seemed like a much better idea.

After I showered, dressed and dried my hair, I headed downstairs to the kitchen. Mum, Dad and Hunter were sitting around the dining room table eating cereal.

“Good morning,” I said, brightly, taking a seat at the table and pouring myself a cup of tea.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Dad said, “You’re up and about early this morning.”

“It’s nine o’clock!”

“Exactly,” Mum laughed. “You don’t usually get up until at least ten on Sundays.”

I shrugged. “I woke up early. No point lying in bed when I could be up.”

My parents exchanged a look of confusion, as if I was an imposter at their breakfast table.

“Hunter was telling us about your night out,” Dad said. “Is there anything you’d like to tell us?”

“Like what?” I asked, casting a puzzled glance at Hunter.

“Leon,” Mum said, pointedly.

“Oh, him..”

“Yes. Why didn’t you mention it?”

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a chance, but also, I forgot.”

That much was true. Leon’s appearance really soured our good time for a while, but I was so used to him popping up at random intervals, I’d become skilled at pushing him to the back of my mind. Plus, with everything that happened with Jesse, Leon just wasn’t in my head.

“Is Georgia okay?” Dad asked. “I know how she hates talking about him.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“Georgia’s fine,” I insisted. “Leon didn’t hang around for long, and he didn’t do anything that would be a cause for concern. Elliott saw him off.”

I had no idea why Hunter even brought him up in front of my parents. Leon had done many more disturbing things in the past. The things he said in the restaurant counted as polite conversation where he was concerned.

“I was worried about you,” Hunter said, sensing my irritation. “About both of you. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

For someone who’d spent so little time with us, he had slotted into our family as if he‘d been here forever. We’d always been as close as it’s possible to be when you’re in different countries, but I hadn’t expected him to be so concerned about Leon based on that one tiny incident.

Unless we aren’t as good at hiding our discomfort as we think.

I smiled at him. “I appreciate it, but honestly, we can handle him.”

Dad studied me, his brow furrowed. “
Was
he looking at you?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t think he’s going to start bothering me too.”

“If he does, I want you to let me know.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t worth telling him, even if Leon did decide to start harassing me. Nothing could be done unless Leon harmed us. It was unfortunate, but unless he seemed like a real, genuine threat rather than a horny college guy, nobody would take a complaint seriously. At least, that’s how Georgia saw it.

Hunter gave me an apologetic smile, but it was lost on me because Jesse walked into the kitchen, making me forget everything else. I felt my cheeks colouring as I took in his early morning appearance. I loved the way his blond hair was always messed up at breakfast time, and how he looked a little bleary-eyed, but still completely gorgeous.

There were two vacant seats at the table, and Jesse chose the one directly opposite me which made me both happy and nervous. I hadn’t thought about telling everyone that we planned to go out, and if they caught us exchanging secret smiles, questions would be asked. Even so, at some point during the day, it would come up.

“Good morning,” he said, reaching for the Cornflakes. “How is everyone today?”

“Fine, thank you,” Mum answered. “I expected you boys to have hangovers today!”

Jesse laughed. “No ma’am, we only had one beer each.”

“I’m impressed. I felt sure you’d both get carried away!”

“Aunt Janet,” Hunter said, with mock hurt. “What kind of badly brought up boys do you think we are?”

“I think,” she laughed, “you are well brought up boys who are legally allowed to get drunk. You wouldn’t be typical eighteen-year-olds if you didn’t think about it.”

“We thought about it, but we are far too polite to puke all over your carpets.”

“Much appreciated,” Dad said. “But you’re more than welcome to have a few beers, as long as you keep out of trouble.”

This time, it was Hunter and Jesse who exchanged a look. I dreaded to think about the kind of trouble those two had got into in the past.

“We have no plans to get into trouble,” Hunter said. “Only to have fun.”

“And what is on your ‘fun’ agenda today?” Mum asked.

I gave Jesse a shy grin, trying not to twitch in my seat with excitement. Okay, we were only planning to go for a coffee, but I didn’t care what the plans were, I just wanted to spend time with him.

Neither Jesse nor I wanted to be the first to speak, so instead, we stayed quiet.

“Did I say something wrong?” Mum asked.

Hunter was the first to get a sense of something brewing. “What’s with you two?”

“Nothing,” I said, quickly, “It’s nothing, there’s nothing … and … it’s nothing.”

Jesse burst out laughing, and tried not to splutter out his mouthful of cereal. I was pleased he realised it was nerves making me mumble, not that I’d changed my mind.

“What’s going on?” Dad asked.

“I … Isabelle and I were … we were gonna go out and grab a coffee this morning,” Jesse said.

“Just the two of you?” Hunter asked, and Jesse nodded.

I had a flashback to when I was twelve and I asked my parents if I could go to my first sleepover. The same level of silence and tension filled the room, before Mum and Dad began firing questions at me about who would be there, what we’d be doing, what time we were planning to go to sleep, and what time I’d be home.

“That sounds nice,” Mum said, giving me a sneaky grin. “Just make sure you’re home in time for lunch.”

Sunday lunch was always reserved for sitting down as a family for a roast. I feared, even when we were thirty, Georgia and I would still have to drag our bums back to Notting Hill every Sunday so we could eat together.

“We will,” Jesse said. “I would never miss your Sunday roast!”

“I’m very impressed with your sucking up skills,” I said, as Jesse sat down opposite me in Starbucks, and handed me my latte. “Telling my mum you wouldn’t miss her roast dinner is one of the best compliments you could ever give her!”

“I wasn’t sucking up,” Jesse laughed. “I meant it. We don’t do the Sunday lunch thing in our house because a lot of the time I’m at training, or at away matches. It doesn’t count as sitting down as a family if someone is missing.”

“Good point.”

“I like home-cooked meals. My mom tries, but she’s missing the cooking gene. She actually prefers if I eat at the training ground, because she knows I’ll be getting something healthy instead of burnt dinners or takeout food.”

I smiled. “Then your mum must have some other talents. Everyone is good at something.”

“She is an amazing mother,” Jesse said, thoughtfully. “You know how some people seem to be born to do one thing? For my mom, it was being a parent. She has that natural, nurturing thing going on, and a lot of my friends would go to her when they needed to talk about something they didn’t want to share with their own parents.  She’s pretty special. I’m lucky to have her.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have a younger sister, Kayla. She’s fourteen and a total pain in the ass.”

He smiled when he spoke so I knew he didn’t mean it, and a little shiver ran through me. I loved the idea of him having a younger sister to take care of. I imagined him to be the protective type. Not in a scary big brother way, but in a way that let her know he would always be there for her.

“What does she think of you being a football star?”

“Well, at first she hated me. When we had to move to L.A, she told me I ruined her life because she had to leave all of her friends behind in Phoenix. She didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

“Not at all?”

Jesse shook his head. “Not a word. It really sucked because we always got along, but the move was rough on her. She eventually came around the first time she watched me play for the Warriors. Then she realised having a soccer player for a brother made her super cool at her new school.”