“Cameron—”
We both chuckled, her eyes twinkling at me. “You go,” she said.
Where did I begin? There was so much I wanted to say. But I couldn’t seem to sort through my jumbled thoughts, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “You know we can’t tell Jason about this.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Right, of course.” Hailee grabbed the door handle and went to climb out.
“Wait, shit… that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”
“It’s fine.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I know it didn’t mean anything. It was just us working out our differences, right?” Her gaze finally slid to mine. She was pissed. And she had every right to be. But I couldn’t think straight.
“Hailee, that’s not—”
“I hope your mom is okay, I really do. Bye, Cameron,” she said before shouldering the door and escaping from my truck. Frustration swelled in my chest. She was running. She could pretend it was my fault, but my fuck up was only an excuse—the out she was looking for to run from me. Again.
“This isn’t over, Hailee,” I said, locking my eyes on hers as she glanced back at me, daring her to deny it. Her lips parted as if she was going to say something. Say something, I silently begged.
But at the last second, she shook her head a little and walked away from me.
Hailee
After Cameron gave me a ride home, I spent the day holed up in my bedroom, working on the art project for Seniors Night. I’d managed to find enough photographs of the senior players in action from the storage room, to use. There were nine of them in total. Which meant nine individual paintings. Mr. Jalin was right; it was going to mean some serious hours in the studio, but I welcomed it.
After this morning at Cameron’s house, I needed a distraction. Something to occupy my mind so I didn’t spend every waking minute replaying the way he’d kissed me, the way my body had come to life at his touch. My skin began to tingle, my stomach clenching as I let the memories wash over me. Frustrated at myself, I shook away the intrusive thoughts and focused on the task at hand.
Drawing had always been a way for me to relax, to switch off from life and lose myself in nothing but the swoosh of a brush against a fresh canvas, or the scratch of a finely sharpened pencil against a crisp page in my sketch pad. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t loved to draw. As a child, I was always doodling and coloring in and getting mom to carve shapes into potatoes so I could make crazy paintings. But when we’d moved in with Jason and his dad, it became much more to me than just a hobby. It was a way to express myself; to work out my frustrations.
And it was mine.
I didn’t need a team behind me cheering me on, or an audience chanting my name. In some ways, art was as far away from sport as you could get, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
But I didn’t only love it, I was good at it.
As I stared down at the sketch of Cameron, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d captured his strength and physique to perfection. Without realizing, my fingers began to ghost over his face, covered by his helmet. Waking up in his bed this morning had been a shock, but it hadn’t been as awkward as I’d expected.
As it should have been.
In fact, there had been moments when it didn’t feel weird at all.
“Hailee, can you come down here please?” Mom’s voice cut through my thoughts and I let out a heavy sigh.
“I’m busy,” I yelled, adding more shading around Cameron’s helmet
“It’s important.”
Relenting, I closed the sketch pad and went downstairs. “Yes?” I dragged myself into the kitchen.
“Attitude, young lady.” Mom gave me a playful smile.
“Sorry, I was working.” I pulled out a stool and plopped down on it. “The art thing Mr. Jalin and Coach Hasson asked me to do.”
“Oh yes,” Kent said. “How is that going?”
“Okay, I guess. It’s not exactly my thing.”
“It’s football, Hailee, it isn’t the devil’s work.”
“Kent,” Mom said quietly.