“It does?” I was surprised she’d noticed, even as a pleased feeling bloomed in my chest.
“You’re not?” Lainey didn’t wait for my response, but instead waved her hand dismissively. “Whew. That’s a relief. I’ve heard the worst things about him. I didn’t want to have to worry about—”
“What have you heard?” I pushed off the wall to move closer. I wanted to know what nasty rumors people were spreading about him. If it was something I could say was a flat-out lie, I would in a heartbeat.
“He’s a freak. Did you know black birds hang out on his car, like there’s something dead inside.” She shivered and wrinkled her nose. “How weird is that?”
“I think you’ve watched too many paranormal TV shows. Parking so close to the trees probably attracts the birds.”
“Seriously, Nara, I think the guy’s off. He hardly talks to anyone. All he does is draw in that notepad.”
I shrugged. “Maybe he’d rather draw than make friends.”
“He’s made friends with you.” Lainey shook her head. “One of the guys knows some people from his last school. The rumors are true, Nara. He was expelled for beating up a guy in his class. Everyone said the guy didn’t provoke it, that Ethan just went nuts and hammered on him.”
I thought about how intense Ethan had been about those two boys who’d offered me a ride home, but he was trying to protect me. “How do we know the guy didn’t do something to him, but no one saw that part.”
Lainey pursed her lips. “That’s the thing. Ethan didn’t say the guy had provoked him. A person who saw the fight said Ethan said something to the other guy, then threw the first punch. When the principal asked why Ethan beat the other guy up, he wouldn’t say.”
Why had Ethan done such a thing? I couldn’t help but wonder, which made me angry all over again, because now I was being swayed by the rumor mill. I kept my tone calm. “There are two sides to every story.”
Lainey snorted. “All that other stuff aside, what really worries me is the fact he draws very disturbing blood and gore pictures, like something out of a horror movie with demons and stuff—”
She paused when my eyebrows shot up. “Oh, Anton grabbed his notebook and flipped through a couple of pages while he was in the bathroom. Another guy in the class said that was the most he’d heard Ethan say when he came back and saw Anton checking out his stuff. Ethan cussed Anton out like no tomorrow.”
I could imagine Ethan in a rage over someone messing with his personal stuff. He seemed so private and contained. Though, learning he had drawn tons of disturbing pictures was a little worrisome. Did one of them look like that monster image I’d seen in the hall? Would he tell me about his drawings if I asked?
My heart sank a little, and I was suddenly annoyed that Lainey had burst my bubble. Ethan had been kind, sympathizing with me over soccer stuff and she’d gone and ruined it.
“I think you’ve got Ethan all wrong, Lainey. He seems like a decent guy. Sure he keeps to himself a lot, but—”
“Nara, what I think is this guy’s some kind of psycho. I’m worried something might happen to you if you continue hanging with him.”
The tension in her voice scared me a little, but when I pictured Ethan, all I could think about was the kindness in his eyes and the gentle way he’d rubbed my tears away. He’d cared, which was far more than any of my supposed friends had done recently.
“He was there for me, Lainey. You’ve been so busy with your new boyfriend, you didn’t even notice your best friend was going through some stuff. But Ethan did, and that’s enough for me.”
Lainey’s jaw dropped, but before she could say anything, I stalked off to my car. With each step I took, my stomach wound tighter and tighter. What did I really know about Ethan? Not a whole lot, but what I did know, I liked. I hated that people were judging him unfairly. Straightening my spine, I decided I was going to find out more about him.
No one spoke to me during soccer practice, at least not on a social level. For some reason Lainey didn’t come to practice, so the entire two hours were torturous. Several times Miranda, Sophia and a couple other girls hammered on me as we ran up and down the field. They’d elbowed and kicked, cutting me off every chance they got. I avoided as many attacks as I could remember from my dream, but I couldn’t avoid all of them.
I’d played in my old position in the field the last couple of games. I knew I was rusty, but part of that was due to me spending the majority of my time in the goal, which the team had been fine with so long as I was saving every single ball for them. Apparently now I was lower than dog’s poop on their cleats. If Miranda had her way, I would definitely be riding the bench during the next game.
By the end of practice, while the rest of the team and Coach headed off to their cars, I stayed behind on the bench, feeling beaten on top of every single ache and pain. I saw Miranda whispering to the two other girls who’d helped her and Sophia give me hell during practice. When they all nodded in agreement, like they’d formed some kind of pact, I mumbled, “I can’t believe it. She’s trying to get me kicked off the team.”
“You’re not going to let that happen, are you?” a familiar voice said from behind me.
Chapter Six
I turned around and Ethan was standing on the field, balancing a soccer ball on his knee. My heart raced as I watched him bounce the ball up and down. He kept his gaze on me, yet had complete control. Even though Lainey’s comments about his drawings and the story of him beating up that guy at his old school itched in the back of my mind, he intrigued me. I wanted to know his side of the story and so much more.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might like to practice with someone who isn’t trying to get you kicked off the team.” Ethan spun the ball, letting it roll up his right arm and across his chest, then back down the other arm where he caught it in his hands. “You up for a practice partner?” he asked as he dropped the ball, trapping it between his foot and ankle. Kicking the ball up over his head, he then leaned forward and caught it behind his neck, an expectant expression on his face.
He looked mouthwatering in black athletic pants with white stripes down the sides and a royal blue long sleeved t-shirt. I was suddenly very conscious of my sweaty face, my hair pulled back in a quick ponytail. I was a mess, but his mere presence made me feel special despite the dirt stains on my knees. He definitely knew his way around a soccer ball. I hadn’t imagined the skill I’d seen that day in the hall. “Who’s going to teach me? You don’t play soccer,” I teased, waiting for him to tell me I was wrong.
Shrugging his shoulder, he dropped the ball into his hands and straightened. “I used to play every season: indoor, outdoor, on a travel team. Even taught summer camp, but you’re right. I don’t play. Not any more.”
A look of regret flitted across his face. Ethan was always so controlled; the brief display of raw emotion threw me. Sometimes he seemed much older, like he’d been through a lot. I wanted to ask why he’d quit playing, but he turned and punted the soccer ball toward the goal, calling over his shoulder in an upbeat tone, “Come on, slow poke. We don’t have all night.”
Grabbing my gloves, I followed him over to the goal. “Okay, let’s see your moves.”
He gestured for me to get into position in front of the goal, then dropped the ball on the ground and set his cleat on top of it. “I watched you during some games. I could tell you were tense. Half the time your eyes weren’t on the ball.”
I bristled and started to argue, but Ethan had no reason to lie to me. He was here to help, so I set my jaw and nodded while pulling on my gloves.
As I readied myself for him to kick toward the goal, Ethan set his foot next to the ball. “It’s always important to watch the ball first, but don’t forget the player’s eyes, his hips, his shoulders…and if all else fails,” he paused and winked. “Psych him out. Watch my planted foot, Nara.” He set his foot down. “Where am I going to kick the ball?”
“To my left.�
��
“High or low?”
“Won’t know until it leaves your foot.”
“Look at my body.” He leaned back slightly. “I’m tilted back, so the ball will be high.” He kicked the ball to prove his point. I jumped, snagging the ball above my head, then tossed it to him.
Dribbling the ball back and forth between his feet, he continued, “You’re on the tall side, so you’ll leave smaller angles or gaps when you go after the ball. That gives you an advantage in covering the entire goal.”
I wasn’t ready when he slammed the ball hard. I dove too late and it zoomed past me into the net. Retrieving the ball, I kicked it out to him since he’d moved further out into the field.
Dribbling in a wide circle on the field, Ethan said, “Watch my planted foot and where I actually hit the ball with my kicking foot. The direction of my hips will tell you where the ball is going to go.”
Everything Ethan was saying were skills I’d learned but never had to worry about using. Now that I focused on what he said, instead of worrying I’d miss every ball that came my way, my confidence began to build.
This time he kicked the ball in one direction, but it curved back toward me. I dove, grabbing onto the ball before it went in the goal. “Except curve balls,” I said as I kicked the ball back to him.
“Exactly, but you can watch the players throughout the game to see which ones have the talent to do curved shots with any kind of accuracy.”
After that, Ethan just kicked the ball toward me. He changed it up a bit, tasking my ability to watch the signs he’d suggested while I kept my eye on the ball.
At one point, he stopped and just stood there staring me down. Crouched and waiting, I locked my gaze on him, my adrenaline pumping. I got tired of waiting for him to decide which way he’d kick it, so I took a small step to the left, then dove to the right, saving the ball he’d quickly kicked in the opposite direction I’d stepped.
I stood up with a wide grin. “Psyched you!”
Ethan nodded. “You’ll be playing goalie full-time again soon.”
His reminder that I could be riding the bench half the time rubbed salt in the wound, so I threw the ball his way and asked, “Why did you give up soccer?”
Stopping the ball in the air with his cleat, his gaze followed it to the ground. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, his jaw tense. Glancing up, he said in a gruff tone, “I quit playing when I was fifteen,” right before he hammered the ball at me.
I tried to stop it, but the dew-coated ball shot past my gloves into my chest. The impact threw me back and pain splintered as I collapsed on the ground, coughing and wheezing.
I must’ve zoned out for a second, because when I opened my eyes, Ethan sat beside me. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders as he held me off the ground. “Nara, talk to me. Are you okay?”
I coughed once more. “Ugh, not the best way to find out you’ve been holding back on me.”
Ethan’s brows pushed together. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to kick the ball that hard.”
I gave a wobbly smile. He had a few freckles on his nose and a chicken pox scar next to his left eyebrow, both things I’d never noticed. “I’ve never caught air like that before, but I’ll live.”
“Jumping back to soften the blow was pretty smart.”
I didn’t jump back, I wanted to tell him, but the gentle sweeping brush of his thumb across the hollow of my throat distracted me. Tiny shivers shot through me when I realized his palm was resting on my chest. Holding my breath, I glanced down and saw the dark edge of a tattoo on his arm where his shirt’s sleeve had ridden up slightly. Curved and intricately designed, it looked like some kind of tail that curled all the way around his forearm.
Lainey’s comment about his scary drawings came back to me, along with that horror image I’d seen in the hall. Secrets swirled in Ethan’s eyes, making me shudder with conflicting emotions of hesitation and curiosity.
“You’re cold,” he said, gripping my hand. “Can you stand now?”
“Yeah.” I felt like a complete wuss.
Pulling me to my feet, Ethan scooped up the ball. “We should pack it in anyway. You’re probably tired from the extra practice time.”
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, whooshing to the rhythm of my thunderous heartbeat. I could do this all night, so long as Ethan was involved. “Thanks for your help, but yeah, I should get home and start on my homework.”
As we headed toward the bench, Ethan tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “Want to practice some more tomorrow?”
“That’d be great if it’s not too much trouble.” A thrill went through me as we stopped at the bench and I kicked off my cleats to slide into my flops. I couldn’t believe how much I’d grown to like his company, but I did. A lot.
Ethan grabbed my bag’s strap before I could. “It’s a good refresher for me, too,” he said, hoisting my bag onto his shoulder. “Heads up.”
I caught the soccer ball he tossed my way, and then we headed for the parking lot. When we reached my car, he dropped the bag into my trunk and I tossed his ball back to him. “Thanks for everything.”
“Anytime,” Ethan said.
“See you tomorrow,” I called as he walked off toward his car sitting across the parking lot. Why did tomorrow have to be so far away? Climbing into my car, I’d never felt more energized. I wasn’t really sure what was going on between Ethan and me, but I definitely wanted to spend more time with him.
After a week and a half of mostly silent dreams, the unknown still scared me on some levels—but, not knowing what to expect had a wonderful, exciting flipside—like opening my eyes to Ethan holding me close. I didn’t want to question why he hadn’t starred in my dreams, because experiencing “Ethan-related” events for the first time in person (and not in a déjà vu scenario) was something I could become addicted to.
***
I enjoyed my “after-practice” time with Ethan. While we played, he didn’t just shoot on me in goal. Part of the time, we chased one another up and down the field, trying to out-maneuver each other’s ball-handling skills. He dominated a good bit of the time, but there were times I beat him too.
As Ethan helped me stow my gear in my car, he said, “Would you mind helping me with a project? I need an accomplice.”
“An accomplice?” I laughed nervously. “Sounds illegal.”
“I’m fairly certain it is.” He leaned on my car door. “Actually, I’m sure it is, but it’s something I think you’d understand and agree with.”
Adrenaline shot through me, edged by curiosity. “Hmmm. What’s the project?”
Ethan rested his chin on his forearm and the brisk wind ruffled his sweaty dark hair. “Rescuing an abused dog.”
He knew just how to reel me in. “How do I fit into your illegal activity?”
Excitement filled his eyes and he jerked his head up. “You’ll do it?”
“You wouldn’t have asked if there was another way.”
He nodded, his expression hardening. “I heard someone talking about this dog’s sad situation at CVAS. He’s a Shepherd mix, chained on a short leash and the links are digging into his neck, causing sores. Patches of bald skin litter his coat and he’s malnourished. The owner’s a big man, so people are afraid to act. All I need you to do is distract him while I get the dog out of the backyard.”
“Is the dog friendly?”
Ethan held my gaze. “Over the past week and a half I’ve driven by and snuck up to the fence, feeding him hamburger, hotdogs and chicken. He barks until he sees me, but he’s not vicious at all.”
At least there won’t be rabies shots in our future. This probably wasn’t going to go off without a hitch, but now that I knew about the abused dog, I was all in. “How much time do you think you’ll need?”
“Ten minutes max.”
Ten minutes would feel like an eternity. “I’ll think of something,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“Thanks, Nara. This dog won’t
get help without us.”
His appreciation bolstered my shaky confidence. Plus, this was an excuse to spend time with Ethan outside of school and soccer. “When do you want to do this?”
He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Would you be able to do it tonight?” When I nodded, he continued, “Great. I’ll meet you back here in the parking lot in an hour. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, that works.”
***
As I pulled in beside Ethan’s car sitting in the school’s empty parking lot, he got out and shut the door. Dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie jacket, he swept a surprised look over my jeans and Three Wise Monkeys sweatshirt when I stepped out of my car and tugged my backpack over my shoulder. “You changed.”
I nodded. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to commit my first crime wearing cleats. They’re hard to run in on asphalt.”
Worry crossed his face. “Are you okay with this, Nara? You don’t have to do it.”
I gave a reassuring smile. “I’m committed now. Plus, I’m wearing my ‘Don’t I look trustworthy?’ sweatshirt,” I said, pointing to the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil monkeys emblazoned across my chest.
When his frown curved into a small smile, I unzipped my backpack and pulled a thick coupon book out. “Oh, and I brought this to ‘sell’ to the man. My mom bought it from some kid selling them for his school last week.”
Admiration flickered in his eyes. “That’s perfect.”
Warmth flooded my face. I was surprised how much I liked his approval. Glancing away, I tucked the book into my backpack. “I’ll drive.”
“I’d planned to drive.”
I pointed to his car. “It’s too loud. We need stealth, not startle.”
Ethan smirked. “Deal, so long as you don’t slam on your breaks when we park.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as he opened my car door.
Dark Roses: Eight Paranormal Romance Novels Page 62
