Crazy Thing Called Love (27 page)

Becky took the card, holding it with both hands as if someone might take it away from her.

“I mean it,” Maddy said. “Anytime.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She would stand by it. Sometimes doing the right thing didn’t give you much of a choice.

“Becky, come here!” Charlie yelled from the kitchen.

“Okay,” Becky called back, tucking the card into the pocket of her jeans. She walked away and Tara Jean followed, leaving Maddy alone with Billy.

He must have run off the worst of the frantic energy, because he seemed much calmer. Subdued almost.

Was it just a week ago he’d given her that ride home from the charity function? Just a few days ago he’d kissed her body as if she were precious. Special.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said.

“Tell Tara Jean that.”

“It would be close, but I think you could take her.”

Maddy laughed. “My girl fighting days are behind me, Billy.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

She blinked, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You going to quit?”

“My job? No.”

“You’re going to go back to the job that just ambushed you.”

“The job didn’t ambush me. Phil did. And, yeah, I’m going back to the job that I love, to try and make things right. I don’t want this to be the only thing people remember me for. I would think you’d understand.”

He stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest. The thin blue sleeves of his shirt stretched across his biceps.

“What are you going to do, Billy?”

“You heard Victor, what can I do?”

Maddy swung her purse over her shoulder. “I never thought I’d see the day Billy Wilkins would go down without a fight.”

“Hornsby doesn’t want me to fight. He wants me to grovel.”

“Isn’t it worth groveling, or doing whatever it is he wants, so you can end your career with some pride?”

“I’ve got pride!” he nearly yelled. “That’s why I’m walking away.”

“Oh, Billy,” she sighed, and though she wasn’t sure what her reception would be, she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for him, curling her hand around his wrist, feeling the bones, the muscles and tendons under his skin. And for a moment, brief and wonderful, she was restored by the reality of him. Recharged. A thin reminder of what it was like to be on his side. “I don’t think that’s pride.”

“Why does it seem like you’re calling me a coward?”

“Because I am. You are the bravest fiercest coward I know. You are the only person I know for whom fighting is the easy way out.”

“You think fights—”

“Stop.” She squeezed his hand. “Stop right there. For you fighting is the easier choice. It’s easier to not think,
to not put anything but your body on the line. You act stupid better than anyone I know.”

She could tell he wanted to argue, but no one knew him like she did. A truth neither of them could deny, much as she might want to.

“You know why everyone liked you on my show? Because you weren’t fighting. You were vulnerable and uncomfortable. You were honest. It was like seeing you when we were young, before hockey got to you. Got to us.”

He grabbed her hand like a lifeline in rough seas and pulled her closer. She knew it was a mistake even as she did it, but she let him pull her into his arms.

They hugged, that was all, just their arms around each other for comfort. Comfort they both needed.

“Stay,” he whispered against her hair.

She pushed back, tried to smile, tried to pretend she wasn’t rattled and shaken all the way down to her bones. “I think you have a full house.”

“I’ll ask Tara and Luc to leave.” His eyes were dead serious.
I choose you
, he was saying all over again.
Over everyone else in my life, I choose you
. “You were my best friend, too.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

“It is for me. It always has been.”

She had no answer for that.

“Now who’s the coward?” he whispered.

Oh, what a weak word for all the fear she felt. She was afraid of him, of her, of how inadequate all the problems in this house made her feel.

She was terrified of the millions and millions of gossamer thin threads that connected them. Past and present. She was scared of being the girl who would give up anything to share what he had.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Billy,” she said, proud that
her voice was clear and strong when the rest of her felt paper thin and torn.

And it was so hard walking away.

The front door closed behind her and she leaned backward, suddenly so weak. She pressed her hands to her face and tried to find her footing.

Remember
, she told herself, trying to pull back from the allure of the past. The allure of Billy.
Remember who you are. Remember how hard you worked to put your past behind you. The woman on television every morning had no memory of the kind of hunger Becky had in her eyes. Not for food, affection, respect, but for a
choice.
A choice that didn’t suck
.

Remember how hard you worked to put yourself back together after Billy broke you into a thousand pieces
.

She dropped her hands, stared straight into the sun.

Truthfully, and she was too worn down to lie; truthfully, she couldn’t stand on Billy’s front porch and tell herself that he was the same man he’d been.

Billy was different. And that was the problem. This man he’d turned into was infinitely more generous and kind and appealing than the boy he’d been. And she didn’t know what to do with that. How to resist that terrible, beautiful temptation.

The last reporter lingering outside Billy’s house started to approach, and Maddy walked to her car, ignoring his questions as she slipped her sunglasses on.

If Billy didn’t go back on the show there was a good chance she would lose everything she’d worked for in her career. But getting him to do it would require her to embrace everything she’d given up in order to be Madeyln Cornish.

And right now, this moment, hounded by a reporter, she couldn’t say which was worse.

Twenty-one years ago

“Oh my God,”
Fiona whispered. “There he is.”

There could only be one “he” that would make Fiona talk like that. Maddy looked up and there, pausing at the end of the cafeteria food line, a tray in his hands, his eyes searching the crowd, was Billy Wilkins.

His eyes landed on her and he grinned, his face lifting, the scar twisting.

Nervous heat prickled all over her skin, like she’d been caught doing something bad. Not sure if she was going to laugh or cry or vomit, she had to look away.

The faded blue jeans and red shirt he was wearing were nothing special, but he was still so hot.

He usually ate out in the parking lot with the rest of the jocks, but for the last week, he’d been coming into the cafeteria to sit with her and the theater nerds.

It was the strangest thing that had ever happened to her.

After that slumber party, after he’d gotten out of the hospital, she would see him at his house sometimes when she went over to hang out with Denise. But he’d thrown himself into hockey, working harder than anyone had ever dreamed he could. And she went to high school, drifted away from Denise, who was getting into drugs and trouble, and never saw Billy anymore.

It was like they lived down the street from each other on different planets.

But this summer she’d seen him at the pool and it had been … different. She’d gotten boobs and this stupid butt and her red swimsuit was too tight and all the boys said stuff about her.

But not him. He’d just smiled, that sweet twisted smile, and her whole body freaked out.

Maddy reached up to her hair, trying to push away the curls that had gone frizzy halfway through second period. Stupid hair.

“What is he doing?” Fiona whispered and Maddy dropped her hand, feeling foolish for caring when he probably wasn’t really here for her. Maybe he wanted tutoring and didn’t know how to ask?

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. “Stop talking.”

“He’s coming over here. Again!”

“I know. Shut up, Fi!” She could hear his boots on the cafeteria floor, and she knew in her gut she would recognize his footsteps anywhere. She could be blind and she would know when Billy Wilkins was coming toward her.

Oh God. Her heart was going to pound right out of her chest, the hamburger on her plate blurring.

“Hey, Maddy.”

Fiona giggled and Maddy kicked her under the table.

“Hi, Billy,” she managed to say. Billy was the biggest kid at Schelany High School. Bigger than even the seniors on the football team. Denise had told her that all he’d done last summer was lift weights and work out, trying to get bigger so he’d be invited to try out for the National Junior Team.

It had worked. Billy was huge. Nothing but muscle. And word was that he’d been asked to try out for the team last week.

Looking at him made her nervous and happy at the
same time. It was like she could feel her skin from the inside. And all of it felt good.

Denise had said he’d gotten a girlfriend over the summer. Some older girl who gave him blow jobs in her car. And the thought of it, of him … like that … made her heart race. And hurt a little, too.

The sun came in through the high windows and turned his brown hair to caramel. His eyes were the color of chocolate.

She wasn’t totally sure what a blow job was, but if it meant putting her mouth on Billy Wilkins—getting to taste him, even just a little bit—it seemed like a great idea.

“Can I sit with you?” he asked, like it was normal. Like he wanted to sit with Maddy and her overbite and Fiona, who couldn’t stop staring, and the theater nerds, who were doing their homework at the table.

She could feel the eyes of every single person in the cafeteria on them.

Why?
she wanted to ask.
Is this a joke? Some kind of prank you’re pulling with the rest of the jocks?

“Sure,” she said.

The chair he pulled out scraped across the floor and the guys with their homework looked up at him, furious.

“Sorry.” He winced.

Billy sat down, his long body curling and uncurling into a chair. Under the table, his feet touched hers and even through their shoes she felt a zing shiver up her legs to rest low in her belly.

Go
, she mouthed to Fiona and her friend rolled her eyes but moved over two chairs, closer to the boys, giving Maddy and Billy a bubble of privacy.

“How are you?” Billy focused on her like they were alone in the cafeteria. It was crazy how he could do that. How he could make everyone and everything disappear.

“Good.” She couldn’t look at him for too long. It was
like staring up at the sun, if she did it for too long she’d see spots. Or go blind.

“Hey, guys, mind if I join you?” Kevin Dockrill, with his pockmarked face and tiny little eyes, pulled out the chair Fiona had been sitting in and sat down, his tray of French fries clattering on the table.

Maddy stiffened, every muscle in her body turning to concrete. Kevin was a jerk. Always had been, since they were little kids growing up in the same neighborhood. And when the word spread that Billy was going to try out for nationals, Kevin had started riding Billy like crazy.

“What are you doing, Kevin?” Billy asked, not even pretending to be nice.

“A guy can’t talk some hockey with an old friend?”

Billy said nothing, his eyes focused on the edge of the table.

“What, you’re such a big shot you can’t even talk?”

The whole room was silent, pulsing with dangerous energy Maddy didn’t quite understand. But Kevin was staring holes into Billy’s head and Billy was looking away.

“I heard this rumor that you were scared about tryouts. You were crying in the locker room.”

“That’s a lie,” she said, the words erupting from her mouth like they had a mind of their own. “He’s not scared, everyone knows he’s going to make it!”

“Oh, hey, man.” Kevin sat back, his jean jacket falling open over his faded KISS concert T-shirt. “You got yourself a cheerleader.”

“Leave her alone,” Billy muttered.

“I will,” Kevin said, “when you look me in the eyes like a man.”

Billy looked him in the eye, bigger and stronger than ever before. “I’m not fighting you, Kevin. Say what you want. Do what you want.”

“ ’Cause you’re chickenshit?”

“ ’Cause you’re not worth losing my tryout over.”

Suddenly, Maddy realized what was really happening. Kevin wanted Billy to fight because if Billy got suspended from school, he’d couldn’t try out.

She stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Kevin asked. “Where you gonna go?” He opened his beady little eyes real wide like something had just occurred to him. “I heard Billy had some girl giving him head in his car, is that you?”

Billy stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the floor, and now everyone really was looking. People on the other end of the cafeteria were standing up to get a better angle.

“Shut your mouth, Kevin.”

“You want to fight over this girl?” Kevin said. “She must be really good. Hey,” he touched her hand and she snapped it away, “maybe you want to come out into the parking lot with me?”