Shut Out

Chapter thirty-one

There was a soccer game going on down at the high school that afternoon. I showed up just in time to watch the last twenty minutes. The bleachers were pretty empty, probably because so many people had left for their fall break mini-vacations, but there were still several loyal fans sitting around cheering. I could see Ellen on the second bleacher, cheering for Adam with all her heart.

The way I used to cheer for Randy.

I sat down in an empty row, pulling my feet up onto the narrow bench and resting my chin on my knees while I watched. It was the first time I'd ever really watched a soccer game. Usually, I'd just pass the field and catch glimpses of the action during practice or on my way to the football field. Sometimes, due to horrible scheduling, the games would happen at the same time.

My family didn't watch soccer and I didn't know any of the rules, but I spotted Cash running in the middle of the field, mostly along the edges. I remembered him telling me at the summer party that he was a midfielder or something like that. I wasn't sure what it meant, and I hadn't really followed his explanation then. Now, though, I wanted to know. I wanted to know what his job was on the team. What they trusted him with, relied on him to do.

One thing I knew for certain — I'd never seen anyone as graceful as Cash on the field. He moved swiftly, smoothly, past his opponents. He made it look like more than a game — like it was an art. I could suddenly see why he loved it. Why anyone might love sports. To me, it had always been just a game, but to people like Cash — like my dad and Randy, even — it was a life, an art, a passion.

The buzzer sounded just as Adam kicked the ball past the other team's goalie. Hamilton won, and everyone clapped and cheered. Slowly, the audience began to disperse, leaving the stands in packs, chattering and comparing their favorite moments of the game. Everyone seemed to be gushing about Adam or Kyle, the goalie. But I'd barely noticed either. Cash was the only one I saw on the field. The only one who mattered.

I stayed in the bleachers, nervously rapping my knuckles against the aluminum bench while the rest of the fans headed back to the parking lot and the teams shook hands on the field. Then the Hamilton players gathered at the bench, high-fiving and discussing the game with Coach Lukavics. When they'd finished, the boys all headed back toward the changing rooms.

All but one.

Cash's eyes met mine and, after a long pause, he started walking up the bleachers toward me. My heart pounded as he got closer. He looked amazing in his uniform — more amazing than usual, I mean — but I tried not to think about that.

"Nice game," I said.

"Thanks," he replied as he reached my place in the middle of the stands. He sat down, leaving a few feet of space between us. "I never expected to see you here."

"Yeah," I said, my knuckles tapping faster. "Can we talk?"

"Sure — but, um, would you rather I go shower and change first?"

I shook my head. "No, let's just… I want to get this over with."

He frowned but nodded. "All right. What's going on?"

I took a deep breath and stared out at the empty green soccer field, keeping my eyes as far away from Cash as possible. I couldn't control how I felt about him. I couldn't fight it off or force it away. Every time he came near me, I melted, and hating myself for it wasn't going to do me any good. I knew I'd never move on if I didn't ask the one question that had been haunting me for months.

"How come you never called me? After that party over the summer, I mean. You kissed me, and I thought… We've avoided the subject ever since, I know, and it was probably for the best, but I have to know, Cash. Why didn't you call me?"

There was a long, heavy silence, and I wanted so badly to look at Cash, but I wouldn't let myself. I didn't want to see the shame on his face. The embarrassment he felt over kissing me multiple times. The awkwardness of telling me that I just wasn't special enough. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, waiting.

When he finally spoke, Cash sounded surprised. "I didn't think you wanted me to."

I turned my head to look at him then, not sure I believed what I was hearing. He was staring at me with the most intense expression in his green eyes, so genuine and sincere, there was no way I could doubt him.

"Lissa, I — " He paused, let out a breath, and laid a hand over mine to keep me from tapping my already aching fingers. "Wow, I'm an idiot. That night — Lissa, it meant a lot to me. I really liked you. I, um, had for a while, actually."

I blinked at him. "What?"

"I'd seen you hanging out with Ellen back when she and Adam first got together." He was the one avoiding my eyes now, his cheeks turning just a tinge red. "I thought… I thought you were beautiful. I was going to ask her to help me out, maybe set us up or something, but then you two stopped talking, and I found out you were with Randy…."

My head was spinning. I couldn't actually be hearing this. Cash Sterling — Mr. Unattainable, the boy every girl wanted but no one could have — thought I was beautiful. This had to be a dream — a good dream, but still, a dream.

Cash looked at me then, and I knew I wasn't imagining any of this. It was real. He was real. Everything he was saying was real.

And I was shaking.

"So that night this summer, at the party, I was so happy to be talking to you. Getting to know you the way I'd wanted to. I liked you even more, so when I kissed you… Lissa, I meant it. Then you kissed me back…."

"Then why — " My voice cracked, and I had to clear my throat. "Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you try to see me again?"

"I guess I thought it was too much to hope for that you felt the same way," Cash admitted. "You kissed me back, but I thought — You'd just broken up with Randy, and the whole rivalry between the teams…"

He let the sentence trail off, and it took me a minute to understand what he was telling me. But when it hit me, I couldn't help but laugh. Despite everything.

"You thought I was using you?" I said. "Like, to get back at Randy?"

He blushed. "Yeah, I did. And then you two got back together a few weeks later, so I was sure that's what it had been about. But I didn't want to make you feel bad about it or weird around me, so I just didn't say anything. I did egg Randy's car, though."

"Wait, back at the end of August? On Lyndway Hill? That was you?"

Cash nodded, looking ashamed. "Yeah. That wasn't the only time, either. I know it was stupid, but I just… God, I hated the thought of you two together. Not just because you weren't with me but because Randy is such a jackass. I knew he didn't deserve you."

"Cash, I–I thought you just didn't like me," I told him. "I thought… Well, you said at the lunch table that day that you'd only consider dating a girl if she was really special. You looked right at me when you said it, so I thought that was a hint. That I just wasn't enough or something."

He shook his head. "It was a hint, but in the, um, opposite direction. You'd broken up with Randy again, and I was trying to tell you how I felt." He blushed again. "I'm an idiot. Lissa, I'm sorry."

I was grinning from ear to ear, but I looked at my lap, still embarrassed. Cash liked me. He had all along. We'd just been too foolish to confront each other about it. If he'd spoken up — if I'd spoken up — things could have been so different. We could have been together. This whole drama never would have had to happen.

Except, maybe it would have. Because even if I hadn't gone back to Randy, the rivalry would have raged on, and even now, I was proud of myself for standing up against it. Against the hazing and the insanity of fighting a war that has no purpose.

A war that has no purpose…

"Cash," I said slowly, remembering the whole reason I needed to talk to him. "Why did you take over the boys' side? Why'd you go up against me?"

He grinned. "I was actually trying to help you out. When I offered to organize an attack against the strike, it kind of brought all the guys — from both teams — together. It was hard, but we started working together as a group. The strike was a great idea, Lissa. If there's one thing that'll bring a bunch of guys together, it's girls."

I laughed.

"I had another reason, too," he admitted, squeezing my hand. I wrapped my fingers around his, listening intently. "I also did it to get your attention."

"What?"

He shrugged. "You kept avoiding me. I gave you that copy of Lysistrata hoping it would give us something to talk about, but every time we'd start to connect, you'd pull away. You were still

dating Randy then, so I didn't push it, but after Homecoming I couldn't fight it anymore. I wanted to talk to you. To be around you. And you were so invested in this strike that I thought the only way I'd get you to stop avoiding me was to lead the boys' side."

"So you were making me crazy on purpose? How is that any different than what I did to you — trying to…" I hesitated, embarrassed. "To seduce you."

"I wasn't trying to drive you crazy, just to get your attention," he said. "Lissa, I never tried to use you. Everything that happened between us — I meant it. Including that kiss in the library. I tried to tell you the other day at my house. That this" — he held up our entwined hands — "is more than just a game to me. But…"

"But I wouldn't listen."

"Yeah. Not that I blame you. This whole thing has been so complicated." He shook his head. "Obviously, I'm not good at this whole dating thing. I have very little experience."

"It's okay," I told him. "I do have experience, and I've messed this up just as much as — if not more than — you have." We smiled shyly at each other, our fingers still laced. "At least now I know. And it isn't too late."

"It's never too late."

I leaned in then, ready to kiss him, to be with him, to start over from scratch and fix all the mistakes I'd made. But just before my lips met his, Cash put a hand on my shoulder and eased me away.

"Can we… Can we put this moment on pause?" he asked,

though it looked like it was costing him an effort. "Let me go shower and change, and then we can get out of here. Will you wait for me?"

"Ye — No." I stood up, shaking my head.

Cash's eyes went wide. "No? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I told him. "No, everything's perfect. But I know that if we get out of here, the chances of me being able to control myself are slim." The way Cash grinned when I said this made my cheeks burn. "I'm still under oath," I reminded him. "And I won't let this strike be for nothing. The rivalry needs to come to an official end first."

He nodded and got to his feet. "Okay," he said. "You're right. So how do we make that happen?"