“I know; he can be a jerk. I get that,” Hailey nodded. “It’s just that you didn’t meet the Grant I met this summer. He was special, and I knew it right away. We got really close so quickly, and I thought…”
Misty recalled how she had spent hours listening as Hailey excitedly replayed every detail of her summer. “You thought he was the one…”
Hailey smiled. “We spent two perfect weeks sneaking off to see each other every free second we got. I naturally assumed that he was feeling everything I was feeling…”
Misty cut Hailey off. “Hails, I’m a girl; I get it. There is something irresistibly charming about the guy, but please promise me you’ll stay away from him…”
Hailey rolled her eyes. “He’s on my basketball team; he lives in my house. How exactly am I supposed to manage that?”
Misty exhaled, knowing that her warnings would go unheeded. “Just guard your heart, Hailey, that’s all I’m really asking. He broke it once, and guys like him will do it again.”
“That’s just it,” Hailey gulped. “You say guys like him…and, all I can think is, I don’t think there is another guy like him.”
Misty groaned, realizing all at once that she was too late. “Just promise me something, Hailey,” she sighed as the girls walked along the dirt road. “Promise me that you won’t let Grant hurt you again?”
“I promise,” Hailey nodded slowly, wondering if anyone can ever really make any promises at all when it comes to matters of the heart.
When Hailey got home, the house was quiet, and she was surprised to see Grant sitting on the couch. He glanced toward the door when she walked in, and, though he quickly glanced away, Hailey was sure she detected a hint of a smile. Hailey moved slowly, sitting down on the couch and resting one hand on Grant’s knee as she gently ran the fingers of her other hand through his hair. “Does it still hurt?” she gulped.
Grant looked into Hailey’s eyes, then, his eyes moving toward the ground, he put his arm around her and eased her over to rest against him. “It doesn’t hurt nearly as badly as watching you walk to his side of the court,” he said softly.
Hailey backed away and stared at Grant. “But you said…”
“I know what I said, Hailey,” Grant replied. “And I don’t blame you for making the choice you made, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there was a little part of me that was hoping you would tell Paul and the misfits to stick it.”
“They’re my friends,” Hailey said softly.
Then, she sat frozen as she felt Grant’s lips against the side of her cheek. “And what are we?” he asked in a whisper that made her tremble.
Hailey reached over and weaved her fingers between Grant’s, and, though she wasn’t sure that was exactly how she wanted to respond, she felt powerless to stop it.
They sat that way for a lingering moment, both contemplating Grant’s question; neither of them daring to answer it.
“Just because I went and stood with the rest of the team doesn’t mean I wasn’t secretly hoping you’d kick his butt,” Hailey said finally, snatching her hand away from Grant’s.
Grant grinned. “So, I was doing a little research on your kind via country radio,” he nodded, “and isn’t it written somewhere in some sacred manual that you’re supposed to stand by your man?”
“No, see you were listening to the wrong song,” Hailey laughed as she sank easily back into Grant’s arms. “If you had been listening to the right song, you’d know that any man of mine better walk the line.”
The team was gathered in the locker room after another spirited, for lack of a better term, practice when Jack opened the storage closet and pulled out a dusty, cardboard box full of game jerseys.
“Grant, what jersey number do you wear?” Coach Nelson asked as he grabbed the jersey on top of the pile, and, recognizing the number, tossed it over to Paul.
“I always wear number three,” Grant replied.
“Oh no you don’t! Not here!” Hailey exclaimed.
“Hailey, give him a break,” Jack sighed.
“Let me guess?” Grant laughed.
“That’s right,” Hailey nodded, “number three belongs to me.” She stood, so that she was taller than Grant, who sat on the bench next to her.
“Okay,” Grant gulped. “That’s fine.” He hung his head and stared down at Hailey’s shoes. “She can have it; it’s just that number three has always been a little special to me because my brother wore that number before he died, and, ever since, I’ve worn it in his memory. It’s just a sentimental thing, you know? Probably silly.”
“Come-on, Hails,” Jack sighed.
“I don’t buy it!” Hailey insisted.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Grant gulped.
“Yes,” Hailey said boldly. “You’re a liar, a good one, but a liar none the less, and I can prove it.”
“Have a little compassion, Hailey,” Jack scolded.
“Oh right,” Hailey nodded, put off that her father was apparently taking Grant’s side. “He’s new here; he doesn’t have any friends, and, with a personality like his, it’s highly unlikely he’ll ever make any, so why don’t I just give him my jersey number to appease him, right?”
“Well,” Jack frowned, “I’m not going to get in the middle of this, but, as your coach, who would like to finish handing out these jerseys sometime prior to our first game, I suggest the two of you settle this in a timely manner.”
“It’s settled,” Hailey blurted. “Number three is mine! It’s always been mine, and it will continue to be mine! End of discussion!”
“I’ll play you for it,” Grant suggested.
“Is that your answer to everything?” Hailey exclaimed. “There is nothing to play for…the jersey is taken!”
