Wasted Words by Staci Hart

I opened to the page where he’d left off, marked by the ticket to the Giants game.

To say the book was damaged was putting it mildly — the corners were curled, the pages yellowed and dog-eared, passages highlighted over the years, noted in the margins with my thoughts. But on the page Tyler had stopped on, he’d marked one of my highlighted passages.

If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together.

The note next to it in the margin simply said This, Cam.

My heart skittered in my chest, breath shuddering.

We should burn together.

And I knew then without a doubt that I wanted to burn with him. That if it were to end, we would go together, into the fire.

The shelves didn’t matter. Kyle didn’t matter. And those truths found their way deep into my heart, setting me free.

My tears hit the book in my lap with a small splat that wrinkled the page, and I closed it, clutched it to my chest as I sank back into the couch and cried. But my tears weren’t sad anymore. They weren’t full of longing. They were full of hope.

TRUE COLORS

Tyler

HALFTIME HAD JUST ENDED, NEBRASKA’S band marching off the field to the thundering roar of the crowd.

It had been a long break, full of announcements and awards, the presentation of the homecoming court, and of course Kyle’s recognition for the team’s new uniforms. He’d walked up the podium, looking like a hero as he waved to the crowd, sporting one of the new jerseys himself.

I dropped my eyes to the playlists in my clipboard as I stood next to Darryl, the team amped up after halftime. I pointed to one of the formations, and he looked over my shoulder. “You’re gonna want to watch this guy.” I tapped on the X that represented a defensive end. “Campbell is fast and smart. He’s gonna be on you worse in the second half than the first.”

Darryl nodded. “He’s already been all over me.”

“They’ve got a fourth-quarter team this year — the farther behind they are, the harder they play, and they’re losing. So don’t get comfortable.”

He bounced, his dilated eyes on the field. “All right.”

I knew where his head was, full of adrenaline and drive and fury, all coiled up and contained in him, but he was ready to spring. The whistle blew, and special teams took the field for kickoff.

Kyle hadn’t headed back into the stands — I’d seen him moving through the players and the coaches, shaking hands and talking. I kept my eyes down, willing him to keep walking when he approached. And empty wish, I knew.

“Hey, Knight.”

I glanced up at him — he looked a little cowed, not nearly as cocky as he generally did, which was especially strange since he’d just been recognized publicly for his generosity to a stadium of people.

It was like I was in the Twilight Zone.

“Hey,” I said, and looked down again, flipping the page back, looking for nothing.

“Still pissed at me?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed at you, Kyle.” I flipped another page back with a snap.

“Listen, I’m sorry. You didn’t give me a chance to apologize, and you didn’t look interested in talking to me at the party. I talked to Cam for a bit though.”

I turned to him, eyes narrowed. “She didn’t tell me that.”

He smirked. My fist clenched.

“What’d you say to her?”

“Nothing. I bought your drinks and we chatted in line. She looked good, man. I get why you decided to hook up with her, even if that’s all it is.”

Drinks … it was after she’d gotten drinks that I’d lost her to her thoughts for the night. “Don’t you fucking talk about how she looked. You don’t get to look at her. What did you say to her?”

He put his hands in his pockets and puffed out his chest. “She almost tripped and fell, and I caught her. She’s a tiny little thing.”

The thought of his hands on her nearly threw me into a rage. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but my hands shook as I glared at him, wanting nothing more than to get my hands around his neck. I dropped the clipboard to my side, clutching it with sweating palms. “Kyle,” I warned.

“I just told her the truth. She doesn’t belong with you, man. You know that.”

My teeth ground together so hard they ached. “Who I’m with is none of your fucking business. Why the fuck do you care?”

A shadow passed over his face. “Because you haven’t been you since you moved in with her.”

“You haven’t been you since we left this field.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t get it, bro. You dropped off the planet, quit hanging out with me or any of the guys, quit dating, for the most part. You couldn’t hang on to Jess, so, what? You end up slumming it with Cam? She’s pathetic.”

I snapped, roaring as I lunged for him, cocking my fist back and letting it go to hook him in the jaw. The players and staff around us grabbed me, but I shook them off and planted my feet, chest heaving and fist aching.

Kyle laughed and rubbed his jaw, rolling it to assess the damage.

“She’s all I’ve ever wanted, you son of a bitch,” I said through my teeth, “and you’re part of the reason she’s not mine.”

“Good riddance.”

My nostrils flared, fist clenching again, the pain forgotten for a moment as I used all of my power to keep myself still. This wasn’t the place. “Stay away from her. Stay away from me.”

“You don’t mean that.” He smirked.

“I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. Now get the fuck out of here, or I swear to God I’ll—”