“I’m better. Too exhausted to be bummed out.”
“You played great today.” He squeezes my hand tighter. I feel a trickle of guilt for not clarifying that my sadness yesterday was purely Gregg-related. “You’ll win State, Zephyr actually. I know you will.”
I smile at the nickname. “I wish I had your confidence.”
He scoffs. “Don’t let my manly exterior fool you; I’m a mess on the inside. Same as everyone.” He kisses the top of my head, his lips leaving a shadow of warmth. “I believe in you, even if you can’t right now.” His words soothe like balm. “Hang with me. We can be messes together.”
I straighten and take one last look at the field. “I want to, but we’ve got our final game tomorrow. Coach wants us to rest up.”
“You don’t need rest; you need to keep your mind occupied. You need someone to keep you from stressing about field hockey.” He smiles that coy smile. “And lucky for you, I just happen to be that guy.”
“You are, are you?”
“Convince me you’re not going to go home and obsess about the game and I’ll leave you alone.” He catches my smile and points at my lips. “Hah! I knew it. Hang out with me and I’ll help you keep your mind off things. Besides, I could use some help with my French homework.”
“You must really need help if you want me to be your tutor.”
Alec laughs, tickles my palm with his finger. “So I’m invited over?”
I nod, biting my lip.
He turns me to face him, raises his hand to my mouth and runs his thumb over my lower lip. I release the bite. “No, don’t. Bite it again.” He bites his own lip in demonstration. I mimic him. He caresses the indent, the part of my lip that’s pulled in by my teeth. “I love the way you do that,” he tells me. I only hear the word love.
When I arrive home, Finn greets us, his tail wagging so fast it kicks up a breeze. I bend down to pet his head and he pushes his plump body against my leg.
“Finn, this is Alec,” I say. “Alec, Finn. Shake on it.”
Alec leans down to Finn and extends his hand for paw. Finn stares at him with his oil-black eyes.
“He’s not much into tricks, but he usually shakes.” I give Finn’s head another quick pat and close the door behind us. “Mom! I’m home!”
“In here!” she calls. Mom’s standing at her desk when we enter her study. She’s wearing one of her severe black suits that scream tough day in court. Her desk is piled with papers and miniature repotted houseplants. I can’t figure how she keeps anything straight.
“Mom, this is Alec.”
She steps forward, firmly shakes his hand in the way lawyer moms do. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Doyle.”
Mom crosses her arms and looks Alec up and down without moving her eyes. It’s a seriously enviable trait. “Alec . . . Alec,” Mom says, as if trying to place him. “Are you hockey phenom Alec Lord? The Alec that Rachel Slicer raves about?”
“Mom!”
Alec blushes. “Mrs. Slicer is too kind, ma’am.”
Mom raises an eyebrow, signaling that Alec’s ma’am has impressed the hell out of her. “Well, any friend of Gregg’s is welcome in our home.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to be here.”
“We’ve got French homework to finish, Mom.”
“Are you hungry? I’ve got lasagna warming.”
I’m starving but I look to Alec, who shakes his head. “We’re good for now. We’ll just be in my room.” I conjure nonchalance.
“Door open.” Mom removes a random transcript from the pile of rubble on her desk, though her fingers set on it like it’s the exact document she wanted.
I grab Alec’s hand and guide him down the hall to my room, Finn following behind.
“So this is the inner sanctum?” Alec looks around, spies the carnation lying out on the table next to my bed. He runs his fingers over the flower’s pink edges just beginning to brown. “From someone special?”
“It’s a theory.”
He laughs and I give a quick glance into the corners of my room, scanning for stray underwear or snotty Kleenex, but the space screams neat freak. I grab a change of clothes from my bureau. “Be right back.” I slip into the bathroom where I slap on pit stick, wash my face, and try to calm the train wreck that is my hair.
When I return, Alec’s at my closet, surveying the clothes on hangers. “Your clothes aren’t just color-coded, they’re arranged according to length, aren’t they?”