Wasted Words by Staci Hart

He frowned as he closed his door. “Don’t gimme that. Your mom had a list of stuff she needed me to pick up while she did her things this morning.”

“Right. Things. You guys are being weird.”

He waved his hands, mocking me. “Sorry we’re not all big-city fancy pants hot-shots with places to go in a big hurry. Anyway, Darryl just got here, he was running late.”

“Well, you could have just said that.”

He shrugged.

I followed him up to the gates, then into the stadium, thinking about all the ways he was about to kill me as we headed into the bleachers. But when we stepped out of the tunnel and I looked in front of me, I slowed to a stop.

The Nebraska State band was lined up on the field, no less impressive for being in their street clothes, and when they saw us, the drum majors blew their whistles and the band began to move.

“Bust a Move,” if I were being technical.

They danced as they walked across the field in formation, the drum line banging, twirling their sticks in succession. I laughed, the sound drowned by the epic volume of the band echoing off the empty stands, so shocked that I didn’t see Cam until a little bit into the song.

I gaped, not believing my eyes.

She stood at the bottom of the bleachers, just off the field in front of me, smiling, blushing, glowing as she danced. And did she dance.

She moved with abandon, hands in the air, hips moving in time to the beat, shuffling down the bench. She Cabbage Patched and MC Hammered, stopping to Butterfly, her tongue slipping out as she wiggled and rolled. And in between moves, she danced her way up toward me and I stood there laughing, dumbfounded, unable to grasp what in the world was happening.

Dad was laughing his ass off next to me, my mom and Darryl too. I looked up into the stands and saw half the team, all of them dancing and rapping the words. And on the chorus, as Cam approached, she sang the words, telling me if I wanted it, I got it, pointing at me, turning to wiggle her ass. I smiled, mouth a little open, shaking my head as the band played, loud and fierce and she danced.

She’d done this. All of it. For me.

When the band hit the breakdown and the drumline went crazy, they literally all started dancing — all three hundred of them broke it down just when Young MC told them to, and so did Cam.

I’d never seen anything so amazing in my life as Cam Emerson dancing on those bleachers.

When the song was over, the band cheered, whooping and hollering as Cam hopped down, bounding over to me. The drum majors blew their whistles again, and they gathered together, flipping their sheet music before starting the Billie Holiday song we’d danced to at the party.

She looked up at me, her small face open to me, cheeks flushed, dark eyes wide and full of fear and regret and hope. When she slipped her hands in mine, I knew exactly what she would say and exactly what I would say, and I only wanted to fast forward to the moment when I could kiss her. Because this was it. She was it.

Her fingers twisted in mine, her eyes searching my face. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, did you know that?”

I cupped her cheek, emotion burning in my throat.

“But I set the whole thing on fire, and all because I was afraid. If I’d stopped worrying long enough to look, I would have realized how wrong I was. In your arms, I’ve never felt so safe. If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together. I understand now. You were with me, always, and I’m with you to the end, if you’ll have me. I want to burn together. I want to burn with you.” She took a breath, brown eyes begging, sparkling. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I’m sorry I let you down. Will you forgive me?”

I bent down and picked her up by her waist, breathing her in, feeling whole again. “I’ll always forgive you. Always,” I said, my voice tight, my heart thumping. “I love you.”

Her lip quivered as she smiled up at me, a tear falling when she closed her eyes, and then she kissed me, and I knew she loved me too.

WHITE KNIGHT

Cam

I SWORE TO MYSELF THAT I wouldn’t cry, but there I was, in Tyler’s arms as the band played “Crazy He Calls Me,” tears rolling down my cheeks. He pulled me in circles, dancing with everyone watching, like no one was watching. And I didn’t care. It was one of the most perfect moments of my life.

When the song ended, the crowd cheered, and he kissed me, closing the circle, opening the door, and I stepped through it. Like we’d walked through each other, exchanging hearts in the process. I hoped it would last. But if it didn’t, I would love him for every minute that I could and be happy for what I had.

Tyler smiled down at me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I can’t believe you did this.”

I smiled back. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Okay, I can, but how did you pull it off?”

“I had help. A lot of help, really.” My smile pulled up on one side. “I called your dad.”

He looked surprised, his brows pinching together. “How did you even get his number?”

“The emergency folder.”

A laugh belted out of him. “I forgot about that. The one you had us make because you worried I’d die and you wouldn’t have a way to tell my parents?”

“The very one,” I said. “I told him my idea, and he said he’d make it happen, so really we should be thanking him.”

Tyler looked over at his dad, who shrugged. “Your mom helped too.”

He glanced at his mom. “Your thing?”

She leaned into his dad, looking pleased with herself. “Picking Cam up from the airport.”