Who I Am With You (Imagination #10) - Staci Stallings Page 0,11

looked hurt by his flippancy. “No. I mean, you… you know, when we were back in high school, okay… I mean, I thought… Well, everyone did. But looking back on it now. You held down a job through most of it. Your grades were decent, you did orchestra, and you did the band with us. That couldn’t have been easy.”

With a half-laugh, Greg shook his head. “Just trying to stay out of trouble.”

“But you didn’t party,” Taylor continued. “It’s not like you were a wild child or anything.” She put her head down. “Not like me anyway.”

His gaze came over to her as the sun began to warm everything around them. “I’m not sure we were in the same party league.”

She nodded but never lifted her head. “True.” A moment and her gaze came back up to him. “But I don’t think that was a bad thing. You had friends, the guys and stuff. It wasn’t like you were an outcast.”

He tipped his head. “Felt like it sometimes.”

True concern went across her face. “What are you talking about? You were you. You did you better than anybody else who ever went through that school. You weren’t on some power trip or trying to make your mark. You just… lived and that was cool.”

“Hm.” But he said no more.

“Why? You didn’t think it was cool?”

Greg shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Always felt kind of in the way, like everybody was just putting up with me until they found somebody better.”

“Better?” Taylor ratcheted back and shook her head in frustrated surprise. “Are you kidding me? We all thought you were…”

“Annoying? Pointless? Stupid?”

“Irreplaceable.”

That yanked his eyebrows up. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. In Rev4, you could do everything.”

“Not like Nelson,” he said.

“Well, no, but let’s face it, Nels is Nels and nobody can do that. But you were always right there in the thick of things. You did whatever we needed you to do—played piano, guitar, electric… you sang, hooked stuff up, carried stuff all over the country. Whatever we needed, you were always right there to help.”

“Yeah, but anybody would do that.”

Taylor let out a breath as she looked at him. “No, Greg. Not everybody would. In fact, I know a lot of guys who would’ve let the whole thing go to their head and gotten all arrogant about it. But you never did, not once.” She thought for a second. “I think that’s why everybody likes you so much.”

His gaze snapped over to her.

“What? They do,” she said with a shrug. “The guys would throw themselves in front of a train for you, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know Paige still has feelings.”

“Paige?” he asked in horror. “That’s not… No.”

“I’m not saying she’s going to ditch Nelson and come running. I just mean, she cares about you—a lot.”

Slowly Greg nodded. “Well, I care about her a lot too. She’s great. Nelson’s a really lucky guy.”

“But even that… didn’t you say Clara’s with that other guy now?”

“Ryan.”

“Right. Ryan. Why is Clara with Ryan?”

It didn’t take much thought to come up with that answer. “Because she’s in love with him?”

“Right, but she was in love with you too.” Taylor grinned at him. “And don’t try to deny it either. I saw how she looked at you the night of your party.”

What could he say? Nothing. So he didn’t.

“You broke up with her, right?” Taylor asked, and there was no point in denying it. “You broke up with her so she could be with Ryan, didn’t you?” When he said nothing, she narrowed her gaze at him. “Didn’t you?”

Finally Greg shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?”

“That’s what I mean. You’re such a good guy, always looking out for what everybody else needs. You don’t even think about what’s best for you, what you might have to sacrifice.” She looked up into the ball above them. “You went up there with me and you didn’t even think about how dangerous it was.”

“I kind of did,” he said.

“Kind of… for you or for me?”

The question hit him true, and he shook his head and put it back again.

“That’s what I mean,” she said. “Nobody does that. Not like you do. You will do whatever it takes to make sure everybody else is taken care of with no thought to yourself.”

Barely moving, he shrugged. “Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

“Maybe,” she said, winding her arm through his and putting her head on his shoulder, “but you actually do.”

One heartbeat and he laid