The Red Zone (A Big Play Novel Book 2)

by Jordan Ford

  My jaw works to the side and I manage to force out a short chuckle. “You know, if you’re threatened by me, you should just come out and say it.”

  I expect her expression to flash with some kind of you’ve got me indicator. But she puts on this nonchalant pout and checks her nails again. “I’m not threatened. I’m just trying to be nice. In my world, girls stick together.”

  Another dig at the fact that I ditched her sister. I force my lips into a friendly smile. “Thanks, Roxy. That’s really sweet.”

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Her fake smile matches mine and we play a quick game of pretend, saying sweet goodbyes and waving our fingers at each other. Her hips sway as she struts off. She manages to capture the eye of every drooling freshman the entire way down the hall.

  For a quick second, I wonder if I don’t know her as well as I think I do. Maybe she was trying to be nice and warn me that Mack might be after the long con.

  No, surely not. That girl sends off all the cool vibes I used to parade around my school with. I know her type. I was her type. But not anymore…which is why I need to find her little sister and apologize.

  It only takes me ten minutes. Sammy’s locking up her bike with a thick chain and chunky-looking padlock.

  “Hey, Sammy.” I smile.

  “Oh em gee, you’re alive?” She puts on a surprised face…full of mockery.

  That’s okay. I deserve it. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have ignored you. I just changed my mind on the whole pranking thing and wasn’t sure how to admit it.”

  She gives me a skeptical frown. “Seriously? That’s so incredibly lame. Why are you giving up?”

  I hesitate for a second, my mind scrambling. “I just… I don’t want to get burned.”

  “Chicken.” Sammy runs her long fingers through her hair and glares at me. I’m guessing that’s the first brush her hair’s had this morning. She’s such a scruff, like the female version of my brother Corbin. I really hate that I can’t get to know her better. She makes a clicking noise with her tongue as she looks away from me, obviously trying to hide her disappointment. “See, this is why I hang out with guys. They’re decisive, honest, and uncomplicated.”

  I make a face and point my finger at her. “Don’t you dare call me a princess.”

  “I won’t, princess.” She winks. “Such a bummer, though. I had some great ideas.”

  “You can still do them.”

  Her expression goes drier than the desert. “It only works because of the whole you and Mack thing. That’s what makes it interesting.”

  I try not to openly balk, straining to keep my expression indifferent. “There’s no me and Mack.”

  Sammy’s are you kidding me face is comical. Her wide lips pull into this awkward smile while her eyebrows arch at the sides and dip into a V above her nose.

  Thankfully, she picks up on my warning glare and her expression flatlines. She licks the edge of her mouth and nods. “Too bad. I think you’d look great together.”

  “No, we wouldn’t.” My voice comes out sounding like a squeak. “I… We aren’t… It would never… I can’t, okay? I just… I can’t.”

  The smirk on Sammy’s face is her best one yet. Her thin eyebrows arch even higher than they were before. “Wow. You must have one hell of a backstory.”

  The blood drains from my face. I can feel it rushing to my toes, like a torrent of obvious. Sammy’s smirk falters, her expression softening to one of understanding. Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries to read me but then she straightens her shoulders and slaps me on the arm. “Well, good luck being boring, mate.”

  The way she emphasizes the word ‘mate’ cracks me up. Genuine laughter pops out of me, loud and refreshing. She flashes me a quick grin and breezes past me. I watch her walk away and wonder if we’ll ever hang out again. We only spent a short time together, but I really like her. After the way I ignored her, though, I can’t imagine her investing much more time in me. It’s probably for the best. I don’t really deserve to make best friends with anyone ever again.

  I had the world’s best friend…and I shit all over her.

  #15:

  Unexpected

  Mack

  The beauty of my next prank was a sweet addition Tyler and I added the day before school went back. Rather than getting Kaija on Monday, we decided to let her sweat it out and then lull her into a false sense of thinking they must have given up on the pranking thing.

  So, all week I have been smiling at her, giving her the odd wave or just ignoring her completely when I pass her in the hallways. It’s now Friday and the guys and I are lying in wait to pull off a prank that should make the most beautiful girl I know jump a mile. I’m secretly hoping that she’ll scream, pat her chest or something, and then start laughing. I’ll step into her space so she can lean on me, or hit me and tell me I’m a douchebag. I’ll take the opportunity to rest my hand on that sexy little dip at the base of her spine before offering her a truce.

  Hopefully we’ll shake.

  Hopefully the feel of our hands connecting will be enough to turn whatever we have into something more.

  Is it insane to think one touch will be able to do that?

  “Okay, here she comes.” Tyler’s voice is high with excitement as he hurries around the corner.

  I grin at my other accomplices, Will and Darius, before pulling down my zombie mask and preparing for the ultimate surprise attack.

  I tense, listening to the sound of footsteps in the hall, then quietly count, “Five, four, three, two, one, go!”

  We jump out in unison, our arms raised and loud shouts bursting from our mouths.

  As expected, Kaija screams. Her binder smacks to the floor and everyone around us starts laughing.

  Except Kaija.

  Totally unexpected is the stark fear in her eyes. It’s not just a surprised flash; it’s a lingering, painful horror. She stares at our masks like she’s looking at a ghost or something. Her skin turns a sickly pale color.

  I whip off my mask, my tousled hair probably looking ridiculous. “Surprise!” I grin, trying to make the best of it.

  It doesn’t work. Her eyes don’t even connect with mine. Instead, they rove the hallway, taking in the snickering faces before glancing back at the guys who are still masked up. Her face bunches with agony.

  “Guys, take your masks off.” I slap Tyler on the shoulder and smack Will’s chest with the back of my hand.

  They all start pulling off the ghoulish faces, but not before Kaija spins and makes a beeline for the exit.

  “Kaija!” I snatch her binder off the floor and chase after her.

  Damn, she’s fast. She disappears around the next corner and by the time I get there, she’s completely vanished.

  “Which way did she go?” I ask a couple of freshmen. They both shrug and hurry away, my angry tone no doubt putting them off.

  A sharp frown dents my forehead. My heart is racing.

  Why did she look like that?

  Why didn’t she laugh and take it like she did all the other pranks?

  An unsettling sickness tears at my guts. The guys bust around the corner.

  “Where’d she go?” Will stops beside me.

  Darius scans the hallway. “Geez, she took that well.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?”

  I glare at Tyler’s question, hating that I don’t know the answer. I thought the game we were playing was fun—a prank war that would lead to an epic backstory in our relationship.

  But this has been a major backfire, and I have to find out why.

  Scrunching the mask in my fist, I stalk away from my confused friends. Loping out of the school, I shove the mask into the first trashcan I pass and head for my car.

  I should have Kaija by my side right now, finally agreeing to go on a date.

  Instead, I’m skipping last period and heading home, feeling like the scum of the earth.

  #16:

  A Festering
, Rotting Mass

  Kaija

  It’s Saturday. I’m safe in my room at the Fosters’ house, yet I’m completely haunted.

  Seeing those masks jump out at me was like reliving my nightmare all over again.

  Six weeks ago, when I got home from school, I found Eloise on my bed. She looked just like those zombies that scared me yesterday. Her face was pale, her eyes were open and red-rimmed. A little vomit dribbled from her mouth…and I thought she was dead.

  I screamed, the exact same sound I made in the hallway when Mack tried to prank me. It traveled through my body like a sickness, ready to take me out. For a second, I froze, my eyes transfixed on the empty bottle of pills in Eloise’s hand. Thankfully, the realization that she’d tried to commit suicide worked like an electric shock, jolting my body into action. I lurched for the phone, calling an ambulance before following the drill I’d been taught in PE class. I checked her pulse and found a soft, minimal beat in her neck, but she wasn’t breathing. I did mouth-to-mouth until the ambulance arrived and took her away.

  Then I went into a state of shock.

  Her ghostly face has haunted me ever since.

  Eloise and I grew apart when we were twelve. Before then, we’d been best mates…then her parents took her away to Myanmar. She started a new international school and I started at Macleans College. I thought it’d be terrifying without her, but I managed to get in with the cool crowd pretty quickly, and by the time Eloise returned two years later, I was immersed in a different world. There was no room for her.

  She was the weird, out-of-touch, foreign kid and, as much as I wanted to pull her along with me, she just didn’t fit.

  So I cut her loose.

  No, I did more than that.

  I snap my eyes shut, hoping to escape the memories. But it doesn’t work. It never does.

  A soft knock at my door pulls me back to Nelson, Idaho.

  “Come in,” I croak.

  The door eases open and Anderson’s face appears. “Hey, you feeling okay?”

  “Yep.” I put on a brave smile. I’ve gotten good at that.

  With a soft sigh, Anderson walks into my room and perches on the end of my bed. I’m sitting cross-legged by my pillow, spinning a pen in my hand. I’ve been attempting to write in my diary, but it’s hard work today. I don’t want to relive the hallway incident. But I’d been a religious diary-keeper since Eloise left me. At first, they were letters to her; we went old school and posted stuff, but then the letters were taking too long to go back and forth and I stopped wanting to share every graphic detail of my life…like how I got completely trashed at my first high school party…or how I let Brayden Wilder feel me up when we walked home from school one day…or how Anna and I skipped school to go shopping in New Market…or how I lost my virginity to Hanson way before I planned to.

  Eloise would have disapproved of my new lifestyle, so I ended up writing for myself. I should burn the damn thing. The secrets inside will be the end of me. But old habits die hard, I guess. I’ve written a little about finding Eloise on my bed. I couldn’t bring myself to write every detail…maybe that’s one of the reasons it’s plaguing me so bad. I haven’t told anyone about the note she left, or the real effect seeing her almost die had on me. Those secrets remain within—a festering, rotting mass that will eventually eat me alive.

  Mom’s worried. She always tries to read into everything. She suggested counseling, but I refused it, saying it’d be more beneficial for me to get away to the States and have a change of scenery.

  Yeah, right!

  Rumors are running rife, of course, thanks to my ex-friends and social media, but no one will ever know the real truth.

  I close my diary and slide it away in the bedside cabinet. I must hide it properly after Anderson leaves my room.

  He shuffles a little closer, his long fingers splayed on my bedspread. “I’m really sorry Mack scared you like that. He’s such an asshole.”

  Ah, the venomous tone. That’s plain old jealousy right there.

  My only response is a lame, closed-mouth smile.

  Anderson’s fingers glide further up the bed until they’re resting just beneath my knee. His index finger pops up, tapping my jeans. “You know I’d never do that to you, right?”

  What the hell is he doing?

  I straighten my legs, stretching them out so his tentative hand is out of range. Running a hand through my hair, I smooth out my long locks and shake my head. “I’m okay, Anderson, really. You don’t need to try to comfort me.”

  “I just heard you got a really big fright.”

  “Yeah, I bet the whole school was talking about it.”

  “Well, you did ditch last period. It must have been bad.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” Another closed-mouth smile should do the trick.

  Anderson grins back, moving a little closer and leaning down so our faces are aligned. “I love how tough you are. You don’t let anyone beat you.”

  He doesn’t know shit.

  I am beaten. I’ve spent the last six weeks slowly disintegrating.

  He touches my cheek, the pads of his fingers brushing against my skin.

  “What are you doing?” I flick his hand off me.

  “Oh.” He jerks back, his cheeks burning so bright I think they might catch fire. “I just thought… Well, now that you’ve figured out that Mack’s a total douche… I mean, I just thought that maybe we…could…” He swallows, his Adam’s Apple looking large and pointy in his skinny neck. “Well, we are going on a date today and…”

  “A date?” I frown. “I thought we were going to a museum?”

  “We are. But it’s the first time we’ve done anything just the two of us, and I figured…”

  “Don’t figure. Please, don’t figure.” I sigh. “Look, Andy, you’re a nice guy and everything, but you’re my host brother. Brother. You get what I mean? I don’t see you as anything more.”

  His expression crumples.

  Crap!

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything. I just thought we were friends. I want to stay that way. Is that cool?”

  “We just got along so well over Thanksgiving. You were so nice to me, I figured…”

  “Don’t figure!” I jump off the bed before he tries to kiss me or something.

  Snatching my bag off the chair, I quickly pull on my boots and head for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “A walk. I need to walk.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  I can’t help shooting him an incredulous glare. For one of the smartest students at Nelson High, he can be pretty stupid.

  “What if you get lost?” he murmurs.

  “I have GPS on my phone.” I tear out of the room and race down the stairs before he can chase me.

  I probably shouldn’t have left him alone in my room, but I guess it’s not really my room, anyway. Skipping down the stairs, I power-walk past the Carmichaels’ place. I have no idea where I’m going. I just need to be out. Away.

  Maybe I should go home, as in Auckland, New Zealand.

  Mom’s been bugging me to make it back for Christmas. She’s been selling the kiwi summer sun and our annual trip to Pauanui Beach. I could ring in the New Year gazing up at the stars with my toes buried in the sand.

  But I don’t want to.

  Anna’s family holidays at the same beach. What if I bump into her? What if all our friends are with her?

  Crossing my arms, I hunch over myself, wishing I’d grabbed a jacket. The cool wind whips my hair, but I press forward, walking aimlessly through Nelson until the icy cold gets the better of me and I’m forced into the next restaurant I pass.

  The waitress smiles at me, leading me to a booth near the window. I point at the one by the wall and she nods, agreeing to let me have the privacy I’m craving. Before finding Eloise on my bed, I would have wanted to sit front and center…all eyes on me, please.

  Not anymo
re.

  Sliding into the booth, I take the menu and then scan the empty eatery. The food must be totally crap because I’m the only person here. I check my watch—ten o’clock. I guess it’s not really breakfast or lunchtime, but still.

  Clearing my throat, I open the menu and start thumbing through it.

  My nose wrinkles as I assess the glossy images. Yeah, I’m totally right. The food here is going to taste disgusting.

  The waitress returns and I order a coffee.

  “Nothing to eat?”

  “No, just the coffee, thanks.”

  She grins at me, obviously noticing my accent. I look down, silently begging her not to pursue some kind of conversation. Mercifully, she walks away. I follow the line of her white sneakers, tracking their path until I’m brought up short by a large pair of olive-green Vans. My breath hitches as my eyes travel up those jean-clad legs, over the navy and cream letterman jacket before coming face-to-face with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever encountered.

  Damn those eyes.

  I want to hate them.

  But I can’t, because they belong to Mack.

  #17:

  One Touch Can Change Everything

  Mack

  Kaija’s eyes fill with tears, and I feel like shit all over again. Rushing to the booth, I slide into the seat opposite her, placing my hands on the table.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  She dips her chin, her long, silky locks hiding her face from me. “Please, Mack, just leave me alone.”

  “Not while you’re crying. I’m not going anywhere.”

  With a loud sniff, she swipes at her tears and sits up, staring at me with the same brave face Layla often wears. I see straight through it. Tipping my head with a skeptical frown, I tell her so without saying anything.

  She sighs, her expression bunching as she fights more tears. “Have you no mercy? It’s the weekend. No one’s here to laugh at the joke you’re about to make at my expense.”