Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Seven

Rebel

“Why did you sneak back here without saying hi?” Holland asks from behind my back as I wash a few of the dishes left over from lunch.

“I didn’t sneak,” I say, even though it’s a lie. I’m still reeling from the drive here with Wolfe and that deep conversation. My head is swimming with feelings of infatuation for him and worrying about my sister’s stupid mistakes.

Holland stands with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “What is going on with you? Don’t go retreating inside yourself.”

She’s referring to the time after the accident. I hadn’t wanted to see any of my friends from school. I hid out at home, hoping I could hide the reality that I lost my leg.

“It’s not like that,” I tell her, because I know first-hand how persistent she can be. After the accident, she was the only one who kept coming over, even when I ignored her. My other friends slowly melted away, as if I never existed once they saw me with my prosthesis. It had been a warm summer, and I tried to hide my leg with a baggy pair of sweatpants, but it didn’t help. My friends were in shock that I actually lost a limb. Then the whispering and staring started and I couldn’t bear it. I shrunk back inside myself. Went to school and came straight home. Lost my spot on the volleyball team. I lost everything.

“What is it like then,” she asks, and her edgy tone deflates. “Come on, Rebel.” Her soft pleading tone reminds me that she is not the enemy. My walls don’t need to be up around Holland.

“I caught Preston doing drugs in the bathroom,” I say, resigned.

Her perfect dark brows draw together like she has no clue who I’m talking about and then I watch as she has that moment of understanding. Like a light turning on in her mind. “Shit.”

“Big time shit,” I say. “I was freaked at first and then I confronted him about it. He asked me to keep it from Blossom. Can you believe his nerve?” My blood starts pumping hard in my veins. “Oh, and get this. The jerk is on parole.”

“Has Blossom lost her mind?” Holland asks.

“Apparently. She’s all I can think about,” I say. Plus, a handsome hockey player, but I push that thought aside. “I’ll catch her first thing in the morning and knock some sense into her.”

She hasn’t had a boyfriend in over a year, and now she finds the biggest loser in Westfall. How do I tell her what a loser he is? I pause and look at my friend, who is biting her nails.

“I thought you broke that habit,” I say.

“Oh, I did. You just made me really nervous right now and it’s clearly still my go-to when anxious feelings arise. Maybe you should come stay over tonight,” she says.

Holland lives with her dad. Her mom died of cancer when we were eleven years old. He’s a doctor and puts a lot of pressure on Holland to become a doctor too.

“Thanks for the offer, but I need to go home. Blossom needs me. I can’t abandon her. I won’t,” I say.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Holland offers.

“Thanks. I appreciate you being here for me,” I say.

“You don’t need to thank me. We’re here for each other,” she says.

I nod.

Darren walks through the swinging door that leads into the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt, but the dinner crowd is growing out there.”

Holland gives me a last glance and frowns. “We’ll figure something out,” she says before she leaves the kitchen.

There’s nothing to figure out. Blossom needs to dump Preston, and fast. I stop washing dishes and dry my hands, then I put in my ear pods and crank up some music. I don’t want to think right now and I’m hoping the music will help. I finish with the dishes and head over to the loading dock to bring in the bread orders. I bring the first box over to the kitchen and Matt says something, but I point to my ear pods and tell him I can’t hear him. He nods. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m just not in a social mood.

Holland drops a bunch of dishes off at my station and then runs back out front. Probably to take more orders. I slip on a pair of plastic gloves and start washing again. “Roses” by the Chainsmokers comes up next and I sing along to the song. I turn around to make sure no one is in the washing area and then I crank up the sound and begin moving along to the beat. I can’t dance like I used to. My movements are more rigid, but as the song plays, my mind drifts back to high school, to a time when I was whole. I had been popular. I was on the volleyball team, destined to get a scholarship to college because I was that good.

Someone taps my shoulder and I yelp. When I turn around, I see Wolfe. “Holy shit balls.” I clasp my chest and turn around, completely mortified that I got away from myself.

This is so embarrassing. The crippled girl doesn’t have moves.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, lifting his hands in the air like he’s a soldier surrendering in a war.

“It’s fine,” I say, feeling heat crawl up my neck.

“What song you listening to?” he asks with a small smile. Gosh, those eyes of his are so alluring.

“‘Roses’ by the Chainsmokers. I needed to get my mind off things.”

He nods. “About that. I realized I told you to call me if you needed a ride and you don’t have my number.”

Holland chooses that moment to walk back into the kitchen to drop off more dirty dishes since we don’t have a person who clears them from the tables. I look at my best friend briefly, and her brown eyes are wide as saucers, her plump lower lip is dropped, and I just will the powers that be that she keeps her mouth shut.

“Rebel?” Wolfe says my name because I haven’t taken the piece of paper from him. “Take my number in case you need to get a hold of me.”

I take the paper. “Thanks.” I slip it into the back pocket of my jeans.

Wolfe turns and looks at Holland. “Would you give us a second?”

Holy fuck balls. I don’t know what’s happening. Why has one of the golden boys given me his cell number? I must be living in an alternate universe where my fantasies are coming true.

“Yeah, sure,” Holland says, then she looks at me and smiles so wide I think she’s blinding both of us with the radiance of it. Her reaction makes me blush more.

After Holland leaves, Wolfe turns to me and his features turn serious. “Look, Rebel, if you ever need me for anything, please call. I mean it. If you have trouble with your sister’s new guy. If he ever gets out of hand or whatever.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I can handle him on my own,” I say.

“I’m not saying you can’t. I just know how intense things can get when someone is using. You don’t know what this guy is capable of, and we’re practically neighbors. Just hang on to my number,” he repeats, looking intense.

“Okay,” I say quietly while staring into his baby blues. How did I ever think they were icy?

Darren walks through the swinging door. “Sorry, man, but patrons aren’t allowed back here. Insurance policy rules,” he says to Wolfe.

“No worries. I was leaving anyway,” Wolfe says and then he turns back to me. “You have yourself a good night and be safe.” He leaves before I have a chance to answer, or maybe I’m so stunned I’m frozen silent again. Dammit.

“Everything okay, Rebel?” Darren asks.

“Just great.” I smile.

Darren nods and heads back out to the bar.

I get back to washing dishes. This time, I don’t play the music as loud so I can still hear what’s going on around me. As the night wears on, the dishes pile higher and higher.

Holland comes to the kitchen for our break and we head out to the loading dock together and sit, our legs dangling over the edge.

“What in the hell is going on between you and Wolfe Judd?” she asks. “Geez. I can’t believe I had to wait two hours to ask you. He came in and ate dinner all by his lonesome and then he just walked into the kitchen like he owned the place. I had no idea he was coming to talk to you. Darren didn’t see him walk by and—”

“Do you want to know? Or what?” I ask playfully.

“Tell me already,” she groans.

“I honestly don’t know. He was at the Coffee Bean the other night when I was studying. We got to talking. Then he was training in the gym this morning and asked me if I could recommend some upper body exercises,” I say.

“That boy doesn’t need work. He is pure male perfection,” she squeals.

“I know, which is why I don’t understand the reason he’s paying me any attention.”

“Come on, Rebel. You’re so beautiful.”

I shake my head. “It’s definitely not that. He told me he wants us to be friends.”

Holland’s dark brows almost raise to her forehead. “The golden boy of hockey wants to be your friend?” She says it with distaste in her mouth.

“It was definitely a buzz kill. Not that I can complain. I’m way out of his league. I know that, but he’s been nice. He gave me a ride home from school and then I was walking to work and he gave me a ride here too,” I say.

“You walked to work?” Holland frowns.

“It’s not a big deal.” I shrug it off.

“It’s a huge deal. Are you in a lot of pain?” she asks, referring to my leg.

“It’s manageable,” I say. I would lie and tell her I’ll soak in the tub after work, but in the middle of the night I’ll be exhausted and probably faceplant on my bed.

“Next time you need a ride just call me. I’m happy to swing by your place,” she says.

“Thanks, but it’s fine. I’ll talk with Blossom tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll get rid of Preston and everything will be fine.”

“Okay, but if for any reason she can’t drive you, you call me.”

“I will. Thanks.” I smile. When I think of how Wolfe gave me his number on a piece of paper, I want to shriek. “Did you see how he gave me his number?”

“That was awesome. I can’t believe he did that. From talk around campus, I heard he’s a real a-hole. He only hangs with the hockey team and hooks up with bunnies and tosses them aside. A friend of mine from organic chemistry told me that she hooked up with him and he’s completely heartless. He had sex with her in his bed, they showered together, and when they were done, he asked her to leave. He was cold and he doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“I’ve heard that too,” I admit. “But he’s been nice to me. I don’t know why that is. I mean, it’s not like I’m miss social. You’re my only friend.”

“So why is he being so nice to you?” Holland asks. “He never puts in work to get a girl.”

“I told you that wasn’t it. He isn’t interested in me in that way,” I remind her.

“Just be careful, Rebel. Falling for a guy like Wolfe won’t end well,” she warns.

“I know. Besides, there isn’t any falling. We have these deep talks. It’s weird,” I say, because I never really had a close friend who was a guy. Most guys back in high school were mostly interested in getting in my pants.

Holland bobs her head, but I can tell she’s worried about me. “Just promise me you’ll keep your guard up.”

“Promise.”

Holland stands. “Break’s over.” She gives me a hand so I can get up. I head back into the kitchen and Holland heads out to wait on tables. I don’t play any music because for the rest of the night I’m trying to figure out why Wolfe is being so nice to me. After a couple more hours, I still don’t know what his agenda is, so I tell myself I need to relax. He seems to be genuine and he was kind enough to give me two rides today. He can’t be the heartless guy everyone thinks he is. Can he?