Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens
Three
Rebel
“I’m heading to the Coffee Bean,” I call out to the empty hallway before I leave my house and lock the door. Blossom’s new friend is over and they were getting quite rowdy in the bedroom. I figured they could use the privacy while I head over to campus to get some work done.
I don’t expect a response back and I don’t get one. I walk down the street past Mr. Hucksberry’s house.
“Hi there, Blossom,” he says.
“It’s me, Rebel, Mr. Hucksberry,” I say back.
He’s sitting on the rocking chair on his porch, rocking back and forth. Even with his glasses on he has a hard time seeing at a distance.
“Sorry, Rebel. How are you doing?” he asks.
“Good. Just heading over to the campus,” I say.
“Saw that Blossom has that boy over again.” He shakes his head back and forth. “That boy has always been up to no good.” The side of his nose scrunches and he looks like he has a bad taste in his mouth.
“That boy is now thirty years old and Blossom is twenty-eight. They’re adults. I’m sure they can figure things out,” I say.
“That’s where you have it wrong, missy. Adults don’t have a clue about life. They make mistakes all the time. Some learn from them and some keep repeating them,” he says. “Blossom’s a good girl the way she stepped up to care for you, but she’s barking up the wrong tree just like that mama of yours.”
As much as his words sting, they’re true. Mama fell in love with Papa despite all the warnings my grandparents and the town gave her. She had hearts in her eyes and there was no changing her mind. From what I remember, Blossom even looks like Mama, even though I hope that Preston guy is nothing like Papa.
“I can’t argue that, Mr. Hucksberry. I can only pray she has a better head on her shoulders,” I say. “You have yourself a good evening. I better get going. I’ve got a lot of work to get through.”
“You’re a good girl, Rebel. Keep your head buried in those books. That’s where your future is at.”
I nod. “Will do.” I continue down the street, limping on my bad leg.
Blossom took me in after Papa died. She could have sold the house and left Westfall, but she stayed so that I’d have a home. She isn’t like Mama, because Mama left us when I was ten and Blossom was seventeen.
The sun is setting as the cold November air chills my bones. I make my way slowly down the side streets. We don’t live far from campus. My grandparents bought my parents the house we live in now. It was a steal because no one wants to live too close to a college campus. The off-campus housing is only a couple streets away and it tends to be loud and rowdy.
In under ten minutes, I find myself back on campus. I would head to the library, but I need a bite to eat, so I stop into the Coffee Bean thinking a large coffee and a bagel will do the trick to give me the energy I need to stay up late tonight to study.
As I walk into the shop, I see an acquaintance from class, Antonio. “Hey! What can I get you?” Antonio flashes a nice set of white teeth and a brilliant smile.
“I’ll take a plain bagel toasted with peanut butter and jam and a large plain coffee, please,” I say. My low-budget dinner at its best. Blossom waitresses at a diner on the edge of town, but it isn’t busy and affords us just enough to cover the bills since she won’t touch the insurance money I got from the accident. My work at the bar helps cover my school costs, and we have little left over if we’re lucky. She insists I should use the insurance money for myself. I have used some of it to top off my tuition fees, but I hate to use it. It reminds me of the past, and I don’t like thinking of my childhood or the messed-up events that led to the accident. My memories are best left buried in our backyard with that little time capsule I buried when I was ten.
“You finish that ethics paper?” Antonio asks as he passes me my coffee.
“Thanks,” I take the paper cup. “No, I’m hoping to get some of it done now along with studying for the anatomy and biomechanics mid-terms.”
“Man, the load is heavier this year,” he says.
“Yeah, I feel the same,” I say. “I’ve got a job too, and I find I’m really struggling to stay on top of things.”
“Your bagel should be up in just a minute.” He grins. “Maybe we can study together. My shift is over in like an hour.”
My heart skips a beat and my blood pressure rises. I don’t really study with anyone from class. Other than exchanging simple pleasantries, I don’t have any friends other than Holland. I really don’t want to study with Antonio. It’s not that I'm attracted to him, because I’m not. I just like to avoid questions about my leg like the plague.
“Oh, um…,” I stutter.
“Never mind.” He waves me off. “You probably like to study on your own. Forget I suggested it,” he says, clearly reading my anxiety right.
“No, it’s not that. I need to go over it a few times to make sure I understand it better,” I say. It’s a lame excuse and I want to crawl out of my skin.
“I get it. It’s okay, Rebel,” he says, his cheeks flushing. “You’re totally out of my league anyway.”
I almost want to ask him to repeat those words. I couldn’t have heard him right. “No, it’s not like that at all. I’m not out of anyone’s league,” I say, and my gaze darts to the floor. Antonio is cute and fit, in a runner’s athletic physique kind of way. He has nice hair and dark eyes, and I’m sure he can get any girl he wants.
“I-I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t know what I mean,” I mumble. Goodness, I’m just making this so much worse. Why can I not be awkward?
“It’s fine, Rebel. Honestly. Friends?” he asks.
“Of course.” I sigh. Only I don’t feel like those words are enough. Antonio is kind and friendly. He deserves more of an explanation, but what do I say? “I-I just don’t d-date,” I mutter, stuttering some more.
“Why not?” he asks.
I choke on my saliva. I don’t have a good answer. At least not one that doesn’t involve the clear fact that I’m an amputee. I know how people view me. I’m the cripple.
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a large cappuccino?” a guy beside me asks. I turn my head slightly to see it’s that super-hot hockey player with the blue ocean eyes rimmed with ice. He catches me looking at him and I pull my gaze away fast and walk away. Wolfe. Wolfe Judd, that’s his name. Damn, he is so good looking.
“Sure, man,” Antonio says to Wolfe. “I was at the game yesterday. Sucks you still can’t play.”
“My leg still needs rehab,” Wolfe explains.
“Hopefully you’ll be back for the Frozen Four,” Antonio says.
“That’s the plan,” Wolfe says. Hockey is a popular sport at Westfall. The whole college roots for our team, and of course all the girls drool over the players. Except me. I don’t drool. Well, maybe just a little, but I can’t be blamed. They are hotter than hot sand in the middle of July.
I head over to a table close by and set up my laptop and take off my jacket. Then I limp my way back to the counter for my bagel. Antonio passes me the plate.
“Thanks,” I say, and as I take it and turn away, I glance at Wolfe who must be waiting on his drink. He’s tall. Well over six feet, for sure. His shoulders are broad and muscular, and his eyes meet mine. I pull my gaze to the floor, embarrassed by the way I was checking him out. My cheeks turn hot, like I’ve just eaten a killer chili pepper. He’s going to think I’m a big weirdo. I wish I were a turtle so I could slink back into my shell.
I lift my gaze briefly, and the corner of Wolfe’s lips tug up. His smile is perfect and warm and so damn sexy. Wait a minute… he isn’t smiling at me. No, that would be impossible. I look over my shoulder, but we’re the only ones in the coffee shop. His turquoise eyes are clearly focused on me. And I feel like an idiot because what am I supposed to do? Do I say something? “Hey, you work at the Firken, right?” he asks.
My mouth won’t move. My muscles turn stiff. Is he talking to me? He must be talking to me. But why? My brain has turned to mush in front of this hockey Adonis. Get your shit together, Rebel. Guys like him like a confident girl. Not one who can’t even string a sentence together.
“I work at the Firken,” I finally manage to say evenly and without a stutter. That shouldn’t have been so hard. I wait another moment and Wolfe doesn’t speak so I look at Antonio. “Thanks,” I say.
“Goodluck with your paper, Rebel,” Antonio says.
“Thanks,” I say again. Gosh! They must think my vocabulary consists of two words. I sit at the table and stare at my computer for a brief second, feeling out of sorts. I don’t interact with guys and I just had a conversation with two of them. One of them happens to be one of the hottest guys on campus. I take a breath, needing to chill the heck out.
Wolfe takes a seat at the table across from me.
Seriously? How will I be able to focus with all that male hotness in front of me?
I get the feeling someone is watching me, so I look up to see Wolfe and his gorgeous eyes assessing me.
“Your name is Rebel?” he asks with a cool, deep tone.
There’s no question who he’s talking to now.
I nod.
“Why did your parents call you Rebel?” he asks.
Damn, I heard he was a big jerk. I guess the rumors are true.
“Why did your parents call you Wolfe?” I answer, and I don’t know where my bout of sudden bravery comes from, but I bless it, nonetheless.
“Touché,” he says, and his lip curls again in the corner. The smile is so slight. It lacks warmth but is sexy as hell.
“My roommates are having a party and I needed to get work done,” he explains, like we’re friends. It’s weird. Why is he telling me personal details?
I don’t want to be rude. Once upon a time, I was miss social at school, so it’s not like I don’t have any skills. I’m just not the same girl I used to be. “My sister was having sex with her boy toy and I needed to get work done,” I answer. I want to clap a hand over my mouth because TMI. I also don’t say words like sex out loud. My heart picks up pace.
Wolfe laughs. It’s deep, warm, and hearty and sends tingles through my body.
I want to sigh, but I don’t. This guy has enough girls falling at his feet. Wolfe returns his attention to his computer. I guess the conversation is over.
I feel so worked up from talking to him that I can’t focus on my paper, even though I need to get it done. After a good ten minutes of staring at my screen and replaying the conversation we had in my head, I assure myself that he’s just being friendly and that this isn’t going anywhere. Besides, if the rumors I heard are true, then he doesn’t have a heart, or maybe it’s that his heart is black. He isn’t very nice and he doesn’t sleep with a girl more than once. That does not sound like a fairy tale ending I’d be into.
For the next two hours, I work on my ethics paper and then switch to anatomy. My leg begins to hurt and my neck is stiff, so I stand and stretch by the table. I take a peek to see Wolfe engrossed in whatever he’s doing on his laptop. I took him for a jock, not the studious type. It surprises me.
Antonio walks over and sees the anatomy notes on my screen. “Do you want me to test you?”
I try to play it cool this time. I don’t want to come across as a flake in case Wolfe is listening, even though I don’t know why I care what he thinks. He barely knows I exist. Yet he’s my fantasy man. Everything about him just calls to me from his floppy brown hair and blue eyes to his smoking-hot body. I can just picture what his muscles…
I realize Antonio is waiting for an answer. “Sure, take a seat.”
Did I really just tell Antonio to take a seat? I must be delirious.
Antonio goes on to test me on the functions of human anatomy. He focuses on the cranium and facial bones and then I ask him questions on the vertebral column. It really isn’t bad studying with someone.
“Well, I better close up.” Antonio stands and he wipes his hands on his jeans.
“It really isn’t busy here at night,” I say, feeling like I found a good place to study that isn’t the library.
“Nights are easy around here. Day shift is brutal because it’s crazy. At night, students are out partying or in their dorms getting work done.”
“I’m going to keep this place in mind when I need to escape my house,” I say, and just as I do, Wolfe picks his gaze up and meets mine. A warm flush crawls up my neck to my cheeks. Could I be any more awkward?
Wolfe grins and I pull my gaze from his.
When I look back at Antonio, his brows are furrowed, as if he’s trying to figure out a difficult equation or something.
“I’m going to pack up. Maybe I’ll move to the library,” I say.
“Thanks, Rebel,” Antonio says. “Guess I’ll see you in the gym in the morning.”
“See you there.” I smile but not too much because I don’t want to give Antonio the impression I want him as more than a friend, because I don’t. I stop staring at Antonio awkwardly and pull my gaze down to my laptop. I start to pack up and so does Wolfe. I place all my belongings in my backpack and wave to Antonio before leaving the Coffee Bean. I don’t notice Wolfe behind me until I see him with a backpack slung on his right shoulder.
He’s so tall and handsome, saliva pools in my mouth.
“I need to get more work done too. Do you mind walking to the library together?” he asks.
I’m not sure what realm or alternate universe I’ve entered. Guys like Wolfe don’t talk to girls like me.
“Um, Rebel?” He waves his hand in my face.
“Sorry.” I shake myself out of my trance. “Yeah, okay.”
We walk quietly at first side by side. He smells of forest and sandalwood and just delicious.
“So, what’s your story, Rebel?” he asks.
“I don’t have one,” I answer quickly. I really hope he isn’t going to ask about my leg.
“What’s your story?” I ask him back. “I hate to say this, but I don’t really see jocks studying as much as you do.”
That buys me a laugh. “And you see a lot of hockey players?” he asks, looking my way.
“I see all kinds of athletes in the gym. I’m a kinesiology major. We only started our placements in the gym this year, but all the teams come in to train. My group has been assigned to the hockey team the next few weeks. I spend time volunteering in the mornings. Older people from the community come in to get help with injuries or stiffness they’re dealing with,” I explain. I don’t think he wanted that info dump when he asked for my story, but I’m so nervous I’ve become a blubbering idiot.
“Cool. Did you always know you wanted to major in kinesiology?” he asks.
I nod. “I used to play volleyball at school. I was always athletic and interested in the way bodies worked. I want to be a physical therapist for one of the national sport teams if I can,” I say, and I gaze down at my leg. I had always wanted to train professional athletes, but since my accident… well, the teams won’t want an amputee to train them. I’m talking too much again, but when I look up at Wolfe, he looks genuinely interested.
“How about you? What’s your major?” I ask.
“Poli Sci. I’m supposed to go to law school,” he says.
“What does that mean, supposed to? Are your parents forcing you or something?” I ask.
“Not per se. My dad had a big law firm. He always expected me to follow in his footsteps. I had no intention to, but then… well, it doesn’t matter. Now I need to prove that I can,” he says vaguely.
“Okay. Where does hockey fit in?” I ask.
Wolfe shrugs. “I’ve always enjoyed playing hockey. I happen to be damn good at it. My senior year of high school… uh… anyway, some shit went down with my family. By the time I applied to college, I didn’t want their help. I got a full scholarship to Westfall and accepted. My spot on the hockey team is important to me, but I also need good grades and…,” he trails off.
I wasn’t expecting the conversation to be as deep as it has been.
He gazes down at me. “Sorry. My life is complicated. I thought I had to prove to my dad that I could become a lawyer without him, but I don’t think that’s what I really want. I actually don’t know what I want,” he says, and by the look on his face he looks like he just had an epiphany.
“Is this the first time you’ve said that out loud?” I ask.
He nods and laughs. It’s a shy kind of laugh that is very unexpected. His ocean blue eyes no longer look rimmed with ice and he isn’t the asshole everyone says he is. It makes me feel bad that I judged him based on rumors. I can only imagine what people must think of me. The quiet amputee who doesn’t speak to anyone. Well, until today.
I realize I’ve gone in my head and speaking would be useful. “Well, what are you, in third year or something? You don’t need to have all the answers to life,” I say and then blush, because how would I know what year he’s in. It makes me look like a damn stalker, but everyone probably knows everything about him around here. Westfall isn’t the largest college.
“I need to get my leg working again. If I can’t play hockey, I lose my scholarship,” he says.
“I’ll be at the gym bright and early. If I can help in anyway, let me know,” I say.
“Thanks, Rebel,” he says, and we both make our way into the library slowly but surely, me limping with my prosthesis and him limping with his bad leg. When we reach the entrance, he looks at me and those blue eyes pierce me right in the center of my chest.
“You have a good night, Rebel.” He says my name like he likes the sound of it.
“You too, Wolfe,” I say and turn away, my heart beating at a strange pace. I make my way up an escalator and force myself not to turn around. I was just talking to Wolfe Judd. Freaking Wolfe Judd. I feel like shrieking from excitement, but it dies quickly because I realize that guys like Wolfe don’t fall for girls like me.