Admit You Want Me Read online

  I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Ward promised me. “I know you will.”

  “How?”

  “You’re smart. Way smarter than me.”

  “You say that, but it isn’t true. You’re plenty smart.”

  Ward looked at me and smiled. “It’s ok. I don’t mind that you’re smarter than me. I’m way taller and stronger than you are.”

  “That’s certainly true.” The way he’d manhandled me in the cab of his truck flickered through me. He’d picked me up like I weighed nothing at all. With his strength and my flexibility… I shook my head to clear it.

  “Fish!” Ward cried, sitting forward and reeling in his line. He pulled up an empty hook. “Well, shit.”

  We slowly worked our way through the beers in the cooler and worms in the can. We didn’t catch a thing for about three hours.

  “I’m not sure your feeling about this spot was accurate,” I told Ward as I baited another hook.

  “Hush. Don’t jinx it,” Ward said. “This is gonna be the time.”

  I settled back into my seat. “Ok. Ok.”

  Moments later, I felt a tiny nibble on the end of my line. Maybe Ward was right. I wiggled it back and forth, feeling the tension. Yeah, there was definitely something on the end of the line.

  “Ward,” I whispered excitedly. “I think I’ve got a fish.”

  “Ok, start reeling it in,” he said, “just a little bit at a time.”

  Carefully, I reeled up the line. Ward got a net ready. From the depths of Lake Austin, a shape began to emerge. It was heavy. The fish was big, oblong, and white. It was… not a fish. It was a shoe. More specifically, an old, nasty tennis shoe.

  “What the fuck?” I laughed. “No fair.”

  Once he got it in the net, Ward snapped a picture of it with his phone. “Catch of the day.”

  He took a picture of us, too. It was a cute picture, two smiling happy people having a nice day at the lake. We looked like friends, not touching and only close enough to fit in the frame together. I guess that should have made me feel good to have made friends with Ward, but it didn’t. The picture just made me feel lonely.

  22

  Ward

  “What do you like about being in school?” I asked Emma. We were down to the last few bait worms. The survivors wriggled around in the cup helplessly. They didn’t know it yet, but their fate was already decided.

  She shrugged, squinting into the sunlight to look over at me. “Why do you ask?” Her green eyes glowed in the light like they were lit from inside.

  Because I want to know every detail about you.

  The little voice in my head came from nowhere. I told it to shut the hell up before it got me into trouble, but just like the bait worms, I suspected my fate was sealed.

  “I’m just curious,” I said casually, “I spent my whole life waiting to get out of school, but you’ve spent your whole life trying to stay in it.”

  “I like to learn,” she said simply.

  “There’s got to be more to it than that. Getting a PhD sounds like torture to me. You couldn’t pay me to do it, let alone make me pay to do it.”

  Emma sat quietly for a bit before answering. “Did you read The Chronicles of Narnia when you were a kid?”

  “The ones with Aslan the lion and the British kids that went through the wardrobe?” I grinned at her. “Of course. My mom read them to me. I liked that the kids got to be kings and queens.” I had fuzzy, happy memories of sitting with my head in her lap as she read them to me right before bed. This was when Kate was just a baby and I had to beg, borrow, and steal every moment I could with my mom. I eventually stopped disliking my little sister for monopolizing our mom’s attention, but there had definitely been a few years when we were both small that I wished I was an only child. The reading time I spent with my mom before bed was still special in my memory. I could almost feel her hand on my forehead and hear her voice in my memory, even now.

  “Do you remember the first book in the series? The Magician’s Nephew?” Emma’s voice was wistful.

  “Um… not really.” It had been probably twenty years since I thought about these books. The actual plots had become extremely mixed up in my head. “Was that the one with the evil talking ape or the one with the prince and boat?”

  “Neither. Those were different ones. This was the first book, set before the other ones. In The Magician’s Nephew, the two English kids find these rings that bring them to this place that they called ‘the wood between the worlds’. It was where they first found Narnia, and also the world that the evil White Witch was from.” I nodded vaguely, remembering not liking that book as much as the others. Fewer battles. Emma continued, “Anyway, that image has stuck with me all this time. That there were all these worlds out there, all these different stories. Not just Narnia. Other worlds too. And you needed the rings to access them, but if you could get it, you could escape Earth and have adventures.”

  “And you thought that school would get you there?” I guessed.

  “Well, yeah. That’s how the magician figures out how to make the rings. He studied and experimented. It turns out I interpreted the whole allegory wrong, and C.S. Lewis wasn’t trying to say any of that, but it worked for me.” She shrugged. “I know that it’s silly, but I’ve always had it in my head that I can get to ‘the wood between the worlds’ if I keep at it.”

  “What do you mean it wasn’t what C.S. Lewis was trying to say?”

  “Well he was writing a Christian-themed fantasy. He says in his writings that the ‘wood between the worlds’ is located in Aslan’s country. That’s essentially heaven, right? The wood between the worlds is where god—Aslan—can enter and exit the different worlds, and presumably where dead souls pass through on the way to Aslan’s country. It isn’t meant to be used by magic using humans to have fun adventures. In fact, the magic using humans who access it get into trouble. Magic is evil and unnatural, after all.”

  “Wait. What? It was a Christian themed fantasy the whole time?” I blinked. That was news to me. “Magic is evil?” Everything in those books had magic. The animals talked.

  “You didn’t notice the Christian themes?” She smirked at my ignorance.

  “No.” I doubted my mom even knew they were Christian themed fantasies, though I’m sure she would have approved if she had known.

  Emma giggled at me. “You didn’t think it was odd that all the animals in Narnia celebrated Christmas? What about all the apple themed imagery? Or the fact that the evil character is a witch? Aslan even tells the kids at one point that ‘in their world, Earth, he is called by another name’.”

  “I was just a dumb little kid!” I said defensively. “I wasn’t exactly looking for hidden Christian messages. Even if I had been, I wouldn’t have known what they meant. I just liked that the kids got to wear armor, fight battles, talk to animals, and have fun adventures. I suppose your parents explained all the metaphors and stuff to you?”

  Emma nodded and then giggled again. “They did, yeah. When I said I wanted to go to ‘the wood between the worlds’ they were really worried about me. They thought that I wanted to commit suicide or something, since the only time you were supposed to go there is when you’re dead. They were relieved when I told them I really just wanted to go to school and read and write.”

  I smirked at her. That was a very Emma-type story. “Your parents must be very proud of you for going for your PhD.”

  She shrugged uncomfortably. “They like that I’m following in their footsteps. But…” she trailed off and looked suddenly nervous.

  “But what?” I probed.

  Her little sigh was frustrated, and her hands gripped her fishing pole a little tighter. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by getting my PhD.” Her admission was soft.

  “What do you mean?” I was surprised to hear that Emma had any doubts. She always seemed so focused when she talked about her studies.

  She pu
shed her hair back from her eyes while she looked for the words. I waited as patiently as I could. “I feel like the more time I spend around academics, the more I realize they’re all mostly all just huge phonies.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I had always thought my teachers were secretly full of shit—especially my English teachers.

  Eventually, Emma added, “It’s like they think they have everything figured out. They pretend like they’re so much better than anyone who just reads for fun, because they’re analyzing and interpreting everything. I mean, it’s good to try and understand what you’re reading, but you can’t act like you know what someone was trying to convey in their writing on a subconscious level. It just feels like it sucks the joy out of reading sometimes, but they act like they’re superior humans because they don’t enjoy anything but negativity and criticism. And god forbid you ever disagree with them.”

  “I always felt like my English teachers were trying to suck the joy out of everything,” I admitted. “I liked reading as a kid, but then later on it was just a chore. The more I hated reading something, the more my teachers acted like I was dumb.” I remembered making many a diorama in school that felt like huge wastes of time. And my essays were always terrible, too, mostly because I hated writing them. Kate and I were both solid C students in high school. We did the absolute minimum to get by and only went to college on athletic scholarships.

  “Exactly! It’s so fake. So many people pretend they’re intellectuals when really, they’re just snobs that want you to agree with them. There’s legitimate literary criticism and then there’s bullshit, pointless, self-indulgent criticism that just tears another person’s art or opinion down. I’ve met some very distinguished professors that think they’re doing the former when they’ve really spent their whole careers cultivating the latter.” She looked around herself uncomfortably, as if one of her professors might be scuba diving beneath us and listening in.

  “As long as you know the difference, it seems like you’d be in the clear though, right?” I feared I was quickly getting out of my depth. There were literal libraries full of things I didn’t know about literary criticism. Emma didn’t seem to notice my worry. She was clearly too focused on her own insecurity to worry about mine.

  “That’s what I’m concerned about. If I spent too much time around academia, I might end not being able to tell the difference between thinking critically and critical thinking.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” I told her, “you’re a genuine, honest, good person. I’m sure you’ll always know the difference.” I may not know about much, but I believed Emma was a good person. She might be a little bit on the snobby side at times, but there were much worse qualities that a person could have. Plus, she was currently out fishing with me. So, she clearly wasn’t too set in her ways.

  “You’re a genuine, honest, good person, too,” Emma said to me, worry coloring her voice, “and you still ended up engaged to Jessie.”

  Ouch. I felt myself wincing, and then saw Emma’s eyes turn huge in apparent guilt. Her cheeks turned that familiar pink.

  “Oh god. Sorry, Ward,” she said, placing a tiny palm on my arm. “I really didn’t mean to…”

  I shook my head at her, making myself smile to reassure her. She looked horrified. “No, no. You’re right. I did end up mixed up with someone toxic and fake.” I stared down at her hand, enjoying her touch and then feeling deprived when she pulled away a second later. “I really fucked my life up good for a while.”

  She was still frowning and unsure. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just thought she was someone better than she was. That’s not a weakness. You gave her the benefit of the doubt because you were in love.”

  The truth was, I just thought she was pretty and I was stupid enough to believed her when she said she loved me. Jessie’s true loves were money and attention. She only loved me when I could provide those things. “Being gullible is definitely a weakness, I’m able to admit it. We were happy for a while, though.” I cast my line out into the water a bit more forcefully than was really necessary. The bobber hit the water with a distant little splash.

  We both watched it, lapsing into an uncomfortable silence. I thought the conversation was over, until Emma asked,

  “What was it like when you were in love with her versus someone else who loved you back?” Her voice was soft and wistful. “Can you tell the difference when it’s real?”

  “What?” My heart was pounding all of a sudden.

  “What was it like? I thought I was in love with Adam, but he didn’t care about me. I’ve never been in love with anybody that loved me back. So, I wonder if it’s a different feeling.” She looked genuinely curious to know the answer.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t help you there. Other than Jessie, I’ve never been in love. I’ve never been in love with anybody that loved me back, either.”

  “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Emma’s voice was a bit bitter.

  “I guess we are.”

  Somehow, the thought didn’t make me feel alone or bitter. If anything, it was nice to know someone else understood, even if it meant we were both damaged goods.

  23

  Emma

  “Did Kate tell you she broke up with that guy she was seeing?” I asked Ward, wanting to change the subject away from Jessie as soon as possible. I don’t know what I’d been thinking to bring her up in the first place. Ward was clearly still not over her. He was as wounded by her as I was by Adam.

  Ward’s face told me that he hadn’t heard the news about Kate yet. “Good riddance,” he said after a moment, grinning from ear to ear and looking relieved. “I really didn’t like that guy. Speaking of phonies, he definitely qualified.”

  “Really? I never met him.” All I knew was that Kate said he was bad in bed and boring to talk to. I wasn’t going to tell Ward about the underwhelming sex. Some things were not meant for her brother’s ears.

  “The guy, who I literally only met once for fifteen minutes, told me he owned two Rolexes.” Ward looked disgusted by the prospect of this man’s conspicuous consumption. I didn’t know anything about Rolexes other than that they were expensive.

  “What was he wearing one on each wrist?” It didn’t sound like a good look.

  Ward laughed. “No, but he probably would if he could. He just talked about them.”

  “Maybe he was just trying to impress you so that you’d like him and think he was worthy of Kate?” I offered halfheartedly. It did seem tacky, at the very least.

  Ward rolled his eyes. “I don’t think he was trying to impress me.” He certainly didn’t sound impressed. “I do think he was trying to intimidate me.” He didn’t sound intimidated either. I imagined that it would take quite the man to intimidate Ward. Ward generally did the intimidation.

  “I haven’t had a real watch in years,” I mused. “I just use my phone. If I don’t have my phone, I’m just late.” I shrugged my shoulders and watched my bobber floating on the water. Had it moved? No, it was just my imagination.

  “I don’t think he was trying to make sure I knew how on time he always was.” Ward’s voice was dry.

  “Yeah, probably not,” I agreed. “Well, it sounds like Kate won’t be seeing him again. She said he was really boring. All he ever talked about was finance stuff.”

  “He was probably bragging about his salary.” Ward looked completely grossed out. “Kate’s not the type to be impressed by money. We were never well-off growing up and she got teased in high school about it because most of our school was from a much richer area. She hates it when people act all superior just because they have money.”

  I nodded. I’d known Kate for long enough to be certain that her heart was in the right place about a lot of things, including money. She wasn’t one to be swayed by money, or even be very impressed by it. It was just a thing that was nice to have for Kate. The fact that her brother was able to pay off all her student loans
in her sophomore year had been a huge deal for her, but she never bragged about Ward’s money, or seemed to take it for granted. She worked her ass off, lived modestly, stayed in college and finished her degree. To this day she was working at the bar and saving up her pennies. One day she’d have enough to finance her dream of one day owning and operating a boutique, but she’d sworn back in college that she’d never ask Ward for money, and as far as I knew, she never had. I wasn’t even sure if Ward knew that’s what Kate wanted.

  “It must have been weird for your family to have you suddenly get really rich when you were playing in the NFL, huh?” It would have been like winning the lottery.

  Ward’s face was bemused. “You can say that again.” He drummed his fingers on the railing of the boat in a display of apparent discomfort. “I had a lot of second cousins and friendly acquaintances come out of the woodwork looking for handouts.”

  “That must have been really bizarre.” I couldn’t even imagine how I’d deal with it. Probably poorly.

  “It was awful. I hated those conversations. There’s no nice way to tell your cousin you haven’t seen since junior high that you aren’t going to buy him a monster truck.” From the look on Ward’s face, this was a real conversation he’d had.

  “Did you buy any monster trucks at all?” I felt like I had to ask. Ward seemed like he might drive a monster truck if it were an option. Hell, his regular truck was a monster, and it was still technically just a normal vehicle.

  “No, but I did buy my mom a Ferrari for Mother’s Day.” He looked proud of it, and I couldn’t blame him. I would buy my mom an expensive, fancy car if I could, too. Although she’d probably insist on something dull and practical instead. Like a used Volvo station wagon or a Prius or something. Trying to imagine my mom behind the wheel of a Ferrari wasn’t possible. She’d hate something so ostentatious.

  “That’s actually really sweet,” I said, shaking my head. I liked that Ward had such a good relationship with his mom. “Did you buy her the ranch she lives on too?”