Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (4 page)

“Well, Cross, I’ve been reading about you in the paper. Notre Dame is hoping you come out and play for their program, aren’t they?” my dad said. I was shocked. I had no idea my dad knew who Cross was, but my dad followed all the high school sports in the paper.

“I have met with the coach a few times, but I haven’t decided yet where I’m going,” Cross replied, clearly surprised that my father knew who he was.

“Well, it’s a great program. You should keep them in mind,” my dad said, winking at me.

“I’m actually going to the Colts game Sunday. My grandfather and I go to one game together every year. I’m hoping it’s a good one,” Cross said eagerly.

My dad looked over at me, and he could see that I was gazing at Cross. I looked down when I realized my father had caught me staring.

“Well, Cross, why don’t you and your grandfather come up to our box and watch with our family on Sunday? We’d be happy to have you. I appreciate you helping out my little girl tonight,” my dad said with a smile.

I felt my heart start to race. I would see him again. I hoped that he would agree to the invite.

“Oh, wow. That would be a huge honor. Thank you, sir. My grandfather will be very excited; he is a big fan of yours as well,” Cross said. When he turned and smiled at me, I felt my pulse dance with excitement once again.

“Well, consider it done. I will have your name on the list. Just check in at the entrance, and the security guard will take you up to our box,” my dad said.

I wanted to hug my dad right then and there. This was fantastic! I could talk to Cross on Sunday and find out more about him. I was so relieved that this wasn’t the last time I would see Cross Tarantino. “Thanks again. I guess I’ll see you all on Sunday,” Cross said, and he turned and smiled at me. “Take care of that hand, Emerson,” he added in his incredibly rugged, manly voice.

“OK, thanks again,” I said, beaming at him as he walked away.

Paisley and Mila raced over to me, and we all watched him walk off. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I hoped he wouldn’t turn around, because my eyes were glued to him. He stopped at a motorcycle and jumped on it.

“Of course he drives a motorcycle! Only someone that hot could pull off a motorcycle!” Mila said, laughing. All three of us stared, completely entranced, as he drove off.

“Who in the hell was
that
, Emerson?” Paisley asked in awe.

“Cross Tarantino. I’ve never met anyone like him,” I said, gazing off to where his motorcycle had been parked.

“Emerson, he was totally into you. The way he looked at you was intense,” Mila said, knowingly.

“Oh please. He was not!” I countered, but there was a hint of question in my voice. Could he really have been looking at me the way that I was looking at him? It wasn’t possible. This guy was way out of my league.

My parents gave me a short lecture about being more aware of my surroundings and not charging into a pack of football players, and I tried to listen to what they were saying. But I was thrilled that I had almost been trampled, or I never would have met Cross. However, I didn’t dare share that bit of trivia with them. I nodded in agreement to ease their concern, all the while beaming inside about my exciting evening.

When I got in bed that night, I couldn’t get those magnificent blue eyes out of my mind. When I closed my eyes that was all I could see. I wished I could remember the sound of his voice, because when he spoke I was mesmerized. I wished that I was going with Cross to homecoming tomorrow, but knowing that I would see him on Sunday was more than I could stand.

I spent Saturday afternoon up in my bedroom getting ready with Paisley and Mila. We did one another’s hair and helped each other with our makeup. My mind wandered off constantly to Cross. I would get goose bumps when I thought about him rinsing my hand gently with water. I kept picturing those eyes and the way he looked at me. I tried to recall the tattoos on his arm, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were in the dark. I attempted to Google him, but I all that I could find were football articles and stats. He didn’t appear to have any social media accounts. I had asked my dad how he knew him when we got home last night. My dad said that he was in the paper a lot, and he was the number one high school wide receiver in Indiana. He told me that Notre Dame was recruiting him but several other schools were as well.

Pictures for the dance were always awkward. You have to stand frozen like a statue with a fake smile plastered on your face for an hour. I tried to look natural, but it was not easy. Johnny was definitely trying to act as if we were dating. He kept wrapping his arms around me, and he tried to grasp my hand twice. I didn’t like it. It felt forced, and it made me totally uncomfortable. The entire time that I was at the dance, my mind kept drifting away to those blue eyes. I couldn’t figure out how someone I didn’t even know could have this effect on me. I made it through the dance and stayed very busy at the after-parties talking to friends, anxious for the night to end. I felt bad about Johnny because he was trying to take our friendship to the next level. I didn’t want him to push it to the point that I would have to say something. I was hopeful that he was getting the message by my lack of interest. Johnny was a great guy, but he was strictly a friend to me.

Luke was at the dance and the after-party with a friend of ours, Sabrina. I was happy that he had asked someone. He was friendlier to me than he had
been since we had broken up, and I was glad about that. I was hoping that we could go back to being friends again. Paisley, Mila, and I were having a great time, and the three of us took a ton of pictures together so we would have lots of memories of our last homecoming dance.

I was happy when I got home. I filled my parents in on the dance and was able to slip into bed quickly. My dreams took me right to those blue eyes and Cross Tarantino. He was as beautiful in my dream as he was in person.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

c h a p t e r    t h r e e

When I saw Emerson fall, my instincts kicked in. Something about her immediately made me want to protect her. I would have to be very careful about keeping my distance. This girl was definitely way out of my league, but I had never had such a strong attraction to anyone like this before in my life. The fact that I had thought about her continually since I met her Friday night was crazy. I didn’t even know her, but I kept picturing her long, dark hair against her perfectly tanned skin. She had eyes unlike any I had ever seen: they were vibrant and green, and it would be easy to get lost in them. Her lips were soft and pink, and Friday I had had to make a conscious effort not to stare at her perfect mouth. I was drawn to a feistiness about her. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds, yet she thought she could charge into a group of large football players and come out the other side unharmed.

A part of me thought I should decline the invitation to sit in her father’s box on Sunday, because I knew the more time I spent with her the more difficult it would be to get her out of my head. Emerson Hollingsworth was from a different world than I was. My world would never meet the standards of someone like her. The fact that I felt so strongly for her so quickly was completely alarming to me.

However, I couldn’t take this once-in-a-lifetime experience away from my grandfather. He saved up all year to take me to one Colts game. He was over the moon about our being invited to sit in the Hollingsworth family’s box. How could I deprive him of this? A part of me knew that I was finding excuses to let myself see her one more time. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, and maybe if I saw her one more time, I would be able to walk away without thinking of her.

My grandfather spent more time than usual getting ready to go to the game. He had been whistling all morning and couldn’t wait to go. My grandmother and I kept laughing at him. He deserved this! My grandparents are the two best people that I have ever known. They had raised me since I was a baby and treated me like their own son. Their only daughter, my mother, had been in and out of jail or rehab for most of my life. My father had died before I was even born, so Bob and Mary Tarantino had stepped up to the plate to care for me. We didn’t have much money, but they always made me feel loved, and they made sure that I had everything that I needed.

My mother had recently come back into town. She did that periodically throughout my life. She had been back for a couple of months this time, and she was trying to rebuild her life. My grandparents were cautious when it came to my mother, but a part of me always wanted to save her. I knew that there was a good person in there somewhere, underneath all the addiction and shame. We had been spending more time together these last few months, and my mom wanted to be a part of my life. My grandparents barely spoke to her, and so we would meet outside of my home. My mom had gotten me involved in underground fighting because she wanted a better life for me. She said she wished she could have provided me with more, and she felt if she could guide me now, I could achieve what she always wanted for me.

She had introduced me to the owner of the warehouse where the fights took place, and by the day of that Colts game, I had already won several fights and brought in a lot of cash quickly. I always told my grandparents the bruises and cuts were from a football game. I felt terrible lying to them, but I was hoping that I could help them financially if I could bring in big money from fighting. I had recently received a couple of football scholarship offers that my grandparents were excited about, but my mom thought I may be able to help them more if I just graduated from high school and started fighting full-time. I still hadn’t decided what I would do, but I had time before the football season would come to an end.

I had made enough money off two fights to get my mom a car. It was a clunker, but it gave her the freedom to attend her AA meetings, which would help keep her on the right track. She had found a great deal on a car through a friend, and I was able to make the money for her quickly. I felt bad not giving the money to my grandparents, but my mom was trying to get better, and I couldn’t turn my back on her.

My grandparents and I just got by each month. We lived in a pretty rough neighborhood, but we knew everyone well, so it felt like home to me. We had a one-bedroom apartment, and I slept on the couch. My grandfather had been saving up since I was a little boy to buy me a car, and we ended up choosing a motorcycle. I loved it. It was the one thing in the world that was my very own. My mom had encouraged me to sell it because we could buy two used cars for the price of my motorcycle, but I could never do that to my grandfather. Providing the money she needed from the two fights caused her to stop badgering me about selling my motorcycle.

When Grandfather came out of the bathroom, Grandma and I burst out laughing. The man had on enough cologne for a small village.

“Wow, Grandfather. You really lathered that on today, huh?” I said, laughing.

“I want to make you proud today, my boy. This is a big day for us!” he said, smiling at me, and then he twirled Grandmother around the kitchen.

“I’m always proud of you, Grandfather,” I said, and I meant it. Bob Tarantino was a good man. Everything he did was from the heart.

“That’s why we named you Cross—because God sent us an angel from heaven when he brought you to us,” Grandfather said, and he hugged me tightly.

“He sure did,” Grandmother said, smiling at us.

We left for the game, and my grandfather seemed genuinely nervous when we arrived.

“Relax. You’re going to have a great time,” I assured him. I was nervous too, but not about sitting in the box. I was hoping that I would be able to erase Emerson Hollingsworth from my mind after today.

We checked in with the security guard, and he graciously took us up to the Hollingsworth box. I reminded myself that I needed to keep my distance and, after this game, return to my normal life just the way it was before I ever met her.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

When the door opened, I looked up, meeting those perfect, deep-blue eyes dead on. Thank goodness I was sitting, because the way he looked at me would have caused me to swoon if I had been standing. Mila elbowed me to get up, and I pulled myself together and walked over to greet them. I immediately loved Cross’s grandfather, Bob. He was such a sweet man, and he had wonderfully warm eyes. I gave Cross a hug, and I probably extended it a little longer than was natural. Hopefully he didn’t notice. I felt my breathing accelerate just from the contact. I introduced them both to everyone, and my grandpa, Jack, started a conversation with Cross’s grandfather.

I led Cross to where I was sitting and introduced him to Mila, Paisley, and C. J. We all made small talk, and then he and I sat down to watch the game. It was a little quiet at first, and then he asked, “How’s the hand doing?”

“Oh, it’s good as new,” I said as I stretched out my arm to show him my healed hand. He took it into his hand and inspected it. I felt a surge of electricity run through my body from the brief contact. The voice in my head reminded me that my entire family was sitting in this room, and I should get myself under control.

“That’s nice that you and your grandfather go to a game together every year. Do you see him often?” I inquired.

“I live with him. He and my grandmother raised me,” he replied quietly.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” I said nervously. I felt bad because I hadn’t meant to ask a somewhat personal question.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Emerson. You can ask me anything you like,” he said in a serious tone as he stared out the window onto the football field.

“Really?” I asked excitedly.

He started to laugh and turned to look at me. “Is there something you want to know?”

“I could come up with something. Now that you’re open to questioning,” I said, also laughing.

“Every time you ask one, I get to ask you one back,” he said more seriously and resumed staring, stone-faced, out the window.

“Deal. I’m an open book,” I said confidently, enthusiastic for the challenge.

Mila, C. J., and Paisley were deeply involved in a conversation, and they were far enough away from our chairs that they couldn’t hear our conversation.