I squeeze my hands between my knees and stare down. I can’t believe I did this. Dad’s lying for me, and he doesn’t even know it. And now he’s dragging poor Will into this. Please let this be enough for Dr. Salter. Please let it be enough. I promise you, Lord, I’ll never do anything wrong again if you can help me out of this.
I can’t ruin Brian’s life. I can’t.
“Call Corndog down here,” Dad insists. “He’ll tell you the truth.”
“Dad, don’t.”
“Why not?” Dr. Salter asks.
I pause. “My friend likes Will, so we’re keeping it a secret.”
“Which friend?”
“I can’t say. It’s not my place to tell.”
Dr. Salter uses his intercom. “Marti, please summon Will Whitfield to my office.”
I shut my eyes and wish Mom was here. We sit in silence for three minutes until Will comes rushing in the door. He slows down when he sees me, and drops into the chair next to mine.
“Hello, Dr. Salter. Mr. Shelton.” Will nods at them, then lays a hand on my arm. “You okay?” he whispers.
I nod slowly, relieved that he’s playing the part he doesn’t know he’s cast in. I hate myself for this. Hate. Tears prick my eyes. I sniffle. Then I put pressure on Will’s foot, giving him the only message I can. Help.
The principal starts, “Will, I’m sorry to bring you out of class like this—”
“Tell Dr. Salter the truth,” Dad says. “That you’re dating my daughter. Or maybe even doing more with her. I did catch you in her bed that day.”
My chin bobs against my chest, and I let out a low cry. Poor Will. He doesn’t deserve this.
“We’re not sleeping together. No, sir,” Will says quietly. His face turns the pinkest pink.
I step on his foot harder.
“But yeah, we’re dating,” Will says, looking from me to the principal.
“And you’re keeping it a secret?” Dr. Salter asks, rapping the paperweight against his desk. Jesus. The man should forget educating kids and become a detective.
Will glances at me. “Yes, sir. For a friend’s sake.”
“Really?”
“A mutual friend is interested in me,” Will says, then hesitates. “But it’ll never work out. We don’t want my friend to know yet.”
He didn’t say he or she. Will is a perceptive guy.
“Well, your story matches Coach Hoffman’s,” Dr. Salter says to me.
I pull a deep breath through my nose.
“What story?” Will asks, leaning forward.
“Laura Martin claimed she saw Coach Hoffman and Miss Shelton interacting in an inappropriate manner in the baseball equipment shed yesterday afternoon.”
“The equipment shed?” Will blurts. His voice squeaks.
“Yes…” Dr. Salter says, and Will laughs harshly. “What’s so funny?”
Will grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Coach Hoffman caught us in the equipment shed yesterday, and then he told me I was acting inappropriately and asked me to leave. Did Laura see you when Coach Hoffman was lecturing you?” Will asks me. His blue eyes are hard. Angry.
“Um, yeah.”
“You were in the equipment shed with Corn Fritter?” Dad asks me.
“Corndog,” Will, Dr. Salter, and I say simultaneously.
“I think we’re through here for now,” the principal announces, standing to shake hands with Dad. “Miss Shelton? Can I talk to you and Coach Hoffman about your baseball managing duties?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, watching Dad and Will file out.
The principal comes out from around his desk. He avoids my gaze and opens his side door to reveal Brian sitting in an armchair, rapping his foot on the floor. He stands and makes his way into Dr. Salter’s office. We sit back down.
“Hi, Coach Hoffman,” I say softly.
“Hey, Parker.”
The principal runs a hand over his head, then sits behind his desk. He raps his paperweight. “I said your stories add up, but I’m afraid I still need to present this to the school board. I’m required to report any accusations against active faculty.”
“Sir—” Brian starts, looking freaked out.
“But Laura hates me,” I interrupt.
Dr. Salter looks at Brian. “If you did nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about. They won’t find any evidence…right?”
“Evidence?” I ask quietly.
“If the board does an investigation, will they find evidence that you and Coach Hoffman have spoken outside of school activities?” Dr. Salter’s eyes bore into mine. “Have you talked on the phone? Over the Internet? Have you ever gone anywhere together?” He pauses. “If you’re telling me they’ll find nothing, we’ll remove the accusation from the coach’s file. But if there is any reason they might believe something is going on between you two—”
“Sir,” Brian says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What can I do to make this stop right here? I’ll do anything.”
My eyes are watering. I sniffle. “I’ll give up being valedictorian.”
Brian shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
The principal looks from me to Brian, and I know he knows the truth. “Coach, if you resign today, we’ll consider this matter closed.”
Brian doesn’t hesitate. “Done.”
•••
We go into the hallway, where I clutch Dad’s elbow. My teeth are chattering. Will’s hanging his head, and I think he might cry.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” Dad says, shaking Brian’s hand. “I know your parents go to Forrest Sanctuary and that no son of theirs would ever do something wrong like this. My sincerest apologies.”
“Uh, yes, sir.” Brian releases Dad’s hand. Pain covers Brian’s face. “I’m sorry if this misunderstanding embarrassed you and your family, Mr. Shelton.” He heads down the hallway toward his office.
By resigning, Brian basically admitted guilt just now, and if and when people hear the rumors, I bet my family will be more embarrassed than ever.
Dad cups my neck with a hand. “I’m sure your being caught in the equipment shed with Corndog was a one-time occurrence. Right, Parker?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Definitely. A one-time occurrence,” Will mutters, rubbing his eyes.
“We’ll pray about this and your brother later.” Dad shakes his head at me, gives Will a dirty look, and ducks into the bathroom across the hall.
Gee, thanks for the support, Dad. I press a palm to the trophy case and wipe a tear from my face. Brian’s resigning. Because of me. Jobs are hard to come by these days, and I ruined a good opportunity for him. And I lied. I sinned. I’m a terrible person. I miss Mom.
God, where are you? I’m sorry I keep doing these things. Can’t you help me be a good person? Please.
Will’s still standing next to me, silent.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Why won’t you go to prom with me? The truth this time, please.”
“I didn’t say no. I need to take care of some things, I told you that.”
He stares at me sideways. “What are these things?” His voice is rough.
“I need to talk to Drew.”
“And?”
Tears are rolling down my face, and I don’t know what hurts worse: my heart, or that Will isn’t rushing to comfort me. He inches away from me, folding his arms.
“Is it true?” he asks. “What the principal said? About you and Coach Hoffman?”
I look over my shoulder, to make sure no one’s listening. Tears blur my vision. I don’t say anything. That should be enough of an answer for Will, the smartest guy I know.
“I thought you were someone else,” he says. “I came to the conclusion
that you weren’t who I thought you were—a girl who gets around with every guy she sees. I thought I had it all wrong. But I guess I was right the first time. You messed with my friends. I don’t know why I was so damned stupid to think I’d be different—”
“But you are different—”
“Don’t.” Will shakes his head. “I’m just glad I never kissed you. Or worse, lost it to you. What a waste that would’ve been, huh?”
I lean against the trophy case. Tears soak my shirt. I feel my makeup melting off. “A waste?” I whisper. I never wanted this for me.
And worse, I threw Will under the bus. For nothing. Brian had to resign anyway.
The bell rings, and students start moving through the halls. Will stays next to me but says nothing. People are pointing at me. That’s when Drew comes rushing up. “What’d you do to her, man?” he asks Will. My best friend pulls me into his arms. I rest my chin on his shoulder. Will slams the glass door open and stalks toward the parking lot.
Dad exits the bathroom. “Parker,” he says quietly. “I love you and care about you, but I don’t want to be called away from work again because you got caught in the equipment shed with Corndog. Understand?”
“What?” Drew whispers. “You what?”
“Yes, Dad,” I say, sniffling, and he leaves, not looking back at me.
Drew’s face falls. “You lied to me? You’re really fooling around with him?”
“Corndog only pretended that,” I exclaim. “To cover for me. With Brian.” I move to fall back into Drew’s arms, but he scoots away from me. “We’ve never hooked up or kissed or anything.”
“You were messing around with both of them? Did you use Corndog to cover up who you’re really interested in?”
“No, no.” I reach for him again, but he steps backward. “Will lied. To help me. To help Brian.”
“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “I stuck by you. Through everything. All your mood swings and cutting out the world. I told people you weren’t a freak. I told them you were shy and cared about school.”
“Drew—”
“And I told you my secret,” he whispers. “And then you took it from me.” His big brown eyes go glossy.
“Drew, that’s not what happened. Can you list—”
“Everything with you is such bullshit. You probably got Tate to talk to me so you could have Will all to yourself. Right?”
I tried to be a good friend…And now he won’t even listen. I had a chance with Will. I turned down a date to prom. A real date with a real guy who truly wanted me. All for a friend who won’t even hear me out.
I don’t have anything.
“I’ll see you later, then,” I whisper, and decide to skip school today. I leave to go home.
Wherever that is.
I run into Laura, Allie, and Mel on the way to the bike rack. They start whispering. So I start shouting.
“Thanks for turning me into Dr. Salter, Laura. I’ll pray for you. Lord knows you’d never do it for me because you’re so jealous. Judge thy neighbor, eh?”
They shut up and stare at me. I’ve never said anything like that before. And you know what? I didn’t get struck by lightning. I don’t even feel guilty.
I tell my eyes to stop crying. Fat chance of that.
alternative spring break
21 days until i turn 18
“Don’t call me again.”
Will hung up on me.
When I called Drew, he sounded like he was choking on his tears. “I can’t talk to you right now. I really can’t. Bye.”
When I called Brian, no answer.
He quit his job. Because of something I basically forced him into, something I was ready to give up the moment I had feelings for Will. Brian’s right. I am immature. I try calling his cell, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s not on Skype, and he defriended me on Facebook! And after a couple of hours, he doesn’t return any of my emails. It’s after 6:00 p.m., so I open the church directory I stole and find his parents’ address. I Google map directions, and I’m on my bike and pedaling down the road in less than a minute.
At his house, I locate the stairs leading to the apartment above the garage, then lean my bike against a tree. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, take a quick look around the neighborhood to make sure no one sees me, then quietly climb the steps. I knock and knock and knock. I knock until my knuckles feel raw.
“He’s not here,” a man calls out from down below. I recognize him from the Forrest Sanctuary church directory. Mr. Hoffman.
“When will he be back?” I ask.
The man lifts both shoulders. “He went to Birmingham to visit a friend. I’m not sure when he plans to come back. He said he quit his job over at the high school. Any idea why?”
He left without saying good-bye? Without checking to make sure I was okay?
I’m nobody.
My mom left me.
My dad thinks I’m a big fat sinner.
My brother is on another plane of existence.
Drew’s angry with me.
Will…
Nothing. I’m nothing.
“You go to Forrest Sanctuary, right?” Mr. Hoffman asks, narrowing his eyes at me. “David Shelton’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir.” My hands shake.
“Can I give Brian a message?”
“No message.”
I turn and make my way down the steps and climb on my bike before anyone else sees I’m here. I pedal home, where I find Ryan curled up in a ball on the living room couch.
“Hi,” I say to him.
“Yo.” He rests his head on a cushion, not bothering to ask about my face. My tears.
Dad’s sitting in his armchair, reading the Bible. He looks up at me and shakes his head, then goes back to reading. Bags hang under his eyes.
“I wish you hadn’t given up on Veena so quickly,” I tell Dad.
He jerks his head up and finds my eyes. “What happened with Veena is none of your business. I prayed about it.”
“Prayer doesn’t solve everything, Dad. It’s not going to solve Ryan’s problems. Or mine. You had a good thing with Veena, but you’re so damned stubborn, and you have to listen to everything the people at church say. You only gave up because they told you to. I’m sorry you’ll keep on being lonely like this.”
Dad takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his Bible.
I focus on my brother. “And Ryan? I’m feeling shitty. Thanks for asking. And no, I’m not making you dinner tonight. Make it your damned self.”
He doesn’t open his eyes.
I stalk down the hall to my room, and without bothering to put on pajamas, I crawl under my covers and cry, cry, cry. Brian quit his job. Because of me. I might drown in the guilt. Neither Dad nor Ryan knocks on the door. I don’t get any texts. Drew doesn’t come over to read Cosmo with me. Will doesn’t show up by way of a lawnmower.
“Please, God,” I whisper. “Please. Tell me what to do. Please.” I clear my head of all thoughts. I imagine how good it feels to swing at a pitch. To connect. To send a line drive over the second baseman’s head.
God, please.
My cell beeps. I jump. Look at the text from Mom. It reads: I love you. Night.
Suck in air. Hesitate. I can do this. Squinting through my tears, I dial her number. It rings. She picks up.
“Mom,” I cry.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I need you.”
She sucks in a breath. “I’m leaving now. I can be there in three hours.”
•••
Mom wakes me the next morning.
Her light brown hair hangs loosely around her shoulders, and her lips are painted a pale pink. She’s as beautiful as ever, but something’s different. She’s glo
wing. She’s happy.
“French toast?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder.
I love the smells wafting into my room. Fresh coffee. Eggs. Bacon. “No, thanks,” I reply. I don’t deserve French toast.
“How about you take a shower, and then we’ll get you some breakfast before your game,” Mom says, threading my hair between her fingers.
“I’m not going,” I reply, focusing on her beautiful face. It makes me feel better already. “How’d you know about the game?”
“Your brother told me you’re managing, and I found the schedule on the refrigerator.”
“I didn’t even know he and Dad noticed.”
She pushes hair off my forehead. “Why aren’t you going to the game? I’d love to come with you.”
Thinking of baseball makes me remember Brian and Drew and Will and Laura, and that makes the tears start up again. I cry so hard and for so long Mom has to get a towel from the bathroom because Kleenex isn’t doing the trick. She doesn’t press me, doesn’t do anything but rub my back and kiss my head.
“Did you bring your dog? Annie?” I ask, sniffling.
“She stayed home with Theresa. She’s a real sweet puppy—I hope you’ll come meet her sometime soon.”
“Mom? I’m sorry…for how I’ve acted. For not calling and all.”
For judging you. For not thinking about your feelings.
Mom pats my knee. “No apology needed. I understand. I’m glad you called,” she whispers. “I hate to think of you crying alone. What happened?”
I sniffle. Mucus clogs my throat. “When you hear what I did, you’ll hate me.”
“Impossible. Do you want to get out of the house and go for a walk before the game?”
“I’m quitting managing.”
“You’re no quitter.”
“I already quit softball, you know.”
“So you took a couple seasons off. Nothing wrong with that.”
“You shouldn’t be so forgiving. I’m an awful person.” I let out a sob.
“You’re one of the best people I know, Parker. You’re compassionate and you love so hard.”
“You don’t know me anymore.”
Stealing Parker (Catching Jordan) Page 18
