The Genesis of Evangeline (The Lost Royals Saga Book 1)

by Rachel Jonas

  “Just give me a sec,” I answered before catching Evie’s eyes and getting in a few last words. “If I don’t get to talk to you after the game, text me later. I’ll be up.” When she smiled, it made the center of my chest tight. “Or… if I’m not up… I think you’re worth getting out of bed for.”

  Her lips, the color of sangria with an inviting shine, parted when her grin widened… because of me.

  “I’ll do that,” she promised and, right after, I had the pleasure of watching her walk away.

  The spirit of the game wasn’t the only thing that had me amped up.

  —

  Chapter Nine —

  Evie

  The sun was taking it’s time setting—a sign that summer was still hanging around. Although, a few days out of the week, it felt like we were in the dead of winter, today wasn’t one of those days.

  As the sky turned a peculiar shade of lilac, coral-colored clouds wove their way across the expanse like ribbons. The crowd of rowdy students, parents, and even several members of the school staff, gathered to watch the season’s first game. There was a charge to the air that couldn’t be ignored. I was excited to see Nick play. I know most girls aren’t into contact sports, but I’ve never been that girl. There was something about the display of strength out on the field, hard bodies colliding like the clash of the Titans. The sound of helmets cracking against one another was unmatched. It was almost as addictive as watching the steam rise off their padding during really intense games. It was the rawness that attracted me.

  And it only made it ten times better that I’d get to watch Nick out there today, kicking butt and taking names, no doubt.

  I spotted Beth at the far end of the home bleachers. She was seated up high like she said she’d be, far from the old folks—i.e. people our parents’ age. She and her teammates were all sporting school colors—navy sweats with matching hoodies and the hems of gold tee-shirts hanging from beneath them. A few, like Beth, had painted various players’ numbers on their cheeks. Hers was #15. I’d have to see who that was once the game started.

  “You made it!” she beamed when she spotted me, her raspy voice calling more attention to me than I usually liked. The aluminum bleachers rattled with each step as I climbed all the way up.

  Beth patted the seat to her left and I apologized my way past her teammates who were already seated. The cold metal bit through my jeans when I sat, gaging my view of the field from here.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d show. You know… due to the perpetual skittishness and all,” she teased. If I’d known she was so easygoing, so laidback, I might not have waited until the last minute to approach her.

  “You got wheels?” she asked, glancing my way for a moment before lowering her eyes to an incoming text.

  “I do,” I answered, rephrasing right after. “Well… I have permission to drive my mom’s car when I need to. Or when they don’t feel like driving me around. My car conked out right before we moved.”

  Beth nodded and her fingers pecked away at the screen.

  “What about you?” I asked. “You drive?”

  A long breath puffed from her lungs and her eyes darted toward the sky. I had a feeling I was about to be told an interesting story; however, before she could even respond, a second voice chimed in—a gentler voice, one less rough around the edges than Beth’s.

  “Not anymore,” the conversation crasher replied. “Thanks to a terrible case of lead foot, her parents put her in driving jail.” A smug grin touched the mouth of the girl beside Beth. She looked familiar, like I’d seen her once or twice around school, but, then again, she had one of those faces that kind of looked like everyone else’s. Nothing prominent or noteworthy, but she was pretty. Especially, her hair as it framed her thin face. The dark waves shimmered in what was left of the sunlight, picking up high and low lights that might not have otherwise been visible.

  Whoever she was, Beth didn’t look happy to have her around.

  The stranger extended her hand to introduce herself. I reached out as well. “I’m Roz,” she said, sounding chipper in contrast to the scowl on Beth’s face. “I’m Beth’s cousin and current mode of transportation for the foreseeable future. You know… until her parents unthaw her keys from the freezer,” she said, adding, “If… they unthaw them.”

  I smiled a bit, but kept it hidden.

  “Nice meeting you,” I replied, only to have Beth mumble right after.

  “No, it isn’t. And it won’t do us any good to feed the girl’s delusions.”

  A well-timed hiss and clawing gesture from Roz toward her cousin was my cue to retreat. This was their battle and I didn’t want to be in the middle of it, so I changed the subject.

  “Heard our team went undefeated last year.”

  Beth’s blonde waves shifted when she nodded. “And, for the record, our girls’ soccer team did, too, but, ya know, who’s keeping score.” She breathed on her nails right after and pretended to buff them on her shirt.

  I smiled. “Wow… kids around here must be pretty phenomenal athletes.”

  She smiled, too, but there was a trace of something behind it she didn’t share with me. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Roz seemed to notice that ‘something’ behind the expression, too. I guessed as much when her eyes quickly shifted to Beth after the vague statement.

  Down below, on the track surrounding the field, offkey squawks of trumpets and trombones fluttered up into the stands. The band was starting to warm up, and the cheerleaders, too. Blue and gold pompoms fluttered about, accompanied by high-kicks and stiff dance moves.

  “You coming out to eat with the team after the game’s over?” Beth’s brow lifted when she turned toward me again. She actually seemed kind of hopeful I’d say yes. Unfortunately, I had to burst her bubble.

  “Can’t. Homework,” I explained.

  Her effervescent laughter fluttered up into the air. “Homework? On a Friday night, Evie? If you didn’t want to go, the ‘I have to wash my hair’ excuse might have been better.”

  My cheeks tightened when I smiled. “No, seriously. When I got permission to go to the falls tomorrow, that was one of the stipulations—get my homework done first or it’s not happening. My folks have this strict policy against doing homework on Sundays because they think I’ll rush through it and, since I have plans Saturday, that day is out, so… Friday it is.”

  One corner of Beth’s mouth turned up when she chuckled. “Your parents sound like mine.”

  I had a feeling all our parents were pretty much on the same page when it came to being overprotective and a bit overbearing. Kind of came with the territory of raising teenagers, I think.

  A loud cymbal crash rang out into the air and, like they’d been commanded to do so, every person in the stands rose to their feet, cupping their hands around their mouths, hooting and howling. Beth’s fingers patted my shoulder and, when I looked up, she motioned for me to stand, too, so I did, having no earthly idea what was going on.

  The band hit one solid note, holding it, sounding far more uniform, more skilled, than I imagined they would be based on the warmup drills we sat through. Another loud cymbal crash, this time punctuated by the thundering of bass drums.

  Being tall was to my advantage in situations such as this. I was able to see clear to the bottom without others’ heads blocking my view. A spotlight aimed toward an inflatable, navy blue tunnel with our school’s logo and mascot printed on the side. The front was covered by a thin layer of vinyl that caught the breeze every so often and bellowed in the wind.

  That charge that had been in the air was practically electrified now. It went all through me—excitement, anticipation. Another cymbal sounded as the sky grew darker by the second, and then, as I stood holding my breath, the vinyl flap was shoved aside and the guys stormed out onto the field. It was all lights and music; energy. My heart raced like you wouldn’t believe and my hands applauded loudly just like the rest of the crowd.

  I searched for Nic
k, but realized I had no clue what his number was. I studied each one, measuring the span of their shoulders, their height. It wasn’t long until I spotted him, which was kind of a dead giveaway that I spent too much time staring at him over this past week, and before. It may have also helped that he was already watching me from beneath the visor of his helmet—a deep, intense stare I could feel.

  This big, dumb smile overtook my whole face and there was nothing I could do about it. I waved, letting him know I saw him—#26.

  Glancing right, Beth was watching me, too, grinning because she knew how I felt about Nick, knew I was deep into him even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone else. I gave her arm a playful shove and she laughed, turning straight ahead again when it was time to sing the national anthem.

  I surveyed the crowd. Most, if not all, had just put a long day behind them—school, work—but you’d never guess it from watching them. They were energetic, screaming their lungs out as the guys stood on the sidelines, getting last minute instructions from their coach.

  I gazed toward the field again, just as our team took to the 35-yard line. The ball was placed at the 40 and you could have heard a pin drop. That is, until the kickoff. After that, everyone went wild. I couldn’t take my eyes off Nick. He was quick, powerful, moving across the field with ease and agility you usually only saw professionals possess. He and the others on his team dwarfed their opponents, but I had a feeling that happened often. They were all larger than normal, and Nick was larger still. They looked inhuman out there—giants among boys.

  A feeling crept over my skin. The one you get when someone’s watching you. Naturally, I scanned the crowd when I couldn’t shake it and, sure enough, a pair of icy, blue eyes were locked on me from the other end of the bleachers—Nick’s mother.

  I was trying to put the weirdness of meeting the woman behind me, but she was making that difficult. First, waving me down like that, and then, when I come over to speak, thinking she’d be cool and sweet like Nick, she says absolutely nothing. As soon as I got close, her face went slack and it was almost like… like she’d seen a ghost. Like, once I was in her space, something about me jarred her.

  I couldn’t let whatever issues she had with me put a damper on this experience, though. So, with her still focused on me, I focused on the game.

  We all sat again. Apparently, while I wasn’t paying attention, the visiting team turned the ball over to Seaton Prep and #15 was barreling his way toward the end zone, trampling over members of the opposite team like bowling pins. After a while, after enough of them felt his wrath, they just sort of stepped out of his way, parting like the Red Sea.

  I looked at the number painted on Beth’s face. It matched the one on the jersey of the red-haired kid who’d just made the first touchdown, so I nudged her.

  “Number fifteen… Is that your guy?”

  Beth only looked at me for a moment before turning toward the field again, a coy smile set on her lips. “Lucas? No,” she chuckled. “He’s sweet, though. And he attempted to do a pretty brave thing to impress me last week, so I thought I’d let him know I noticed.” Her smile grew. “It’s not every day a guy tries to swim across a reservoir to get your attention.”

  When she mentioned being at the reservoir the week before, an image of Nick shoulder-checking a vehicle, stopping it cold as it barreled down a hill, flashed in my thoughts. I wondered if the incident Beth spoke of occurred on the same night. I wondered if she was there.

  There was a moment that I hesitated to ask because, honestly, I got the distinct impression the whole thing annoyed Nick for some reason. Whenever people mentioned it, he became almost defensive. So, I never brought it up again after the one and only time we discussed it.

  Leaning toward Beth so she could hear me over all the noise, I watched the game while asking my question. “So, you saw what happened last weekend? With Nick, I mean?”

  She took a deep breath, one that made her shoulders rise and fall noticeably beneath her hoodie. Her chin dipped with a nod. “I did.”

  It wasn’t lost on me that her answer was short. Nor was it lost on me that she was not readily jumping to gossip about it like everyone else seemed to be itching to do. I wasn’t sure why she was so reserved.

  “And… based on what you saw, you really think he’s okay?” was my next question. Because, if she and I saw the same thing, which I was positive we had, there was no plausible explanation for how he survived.

  A curtain of dark hair appeared behind Beth’s blonde when our conversation garnered the attention of her chauffer for the evening—Roz. Her eyes were aglow as she absorbed each and every word exchanged between her cousin and I. Beth noticed and angled her body toward me, literally, turning her back on Roz.

  “It wasn’t as big a deal as everyone’s making it out to be,” Beth replied. “Maddox was already pressing on the brake pedal, so the truck really wasn’t moving as fast as everyone keeps saying. And even those who were there have blown the whole thing out of proportion. Probably because they were hopped up on adrenaline when it happened.”

  I nodded slowly, processing everything she said. From over her shoulder, Roz rolled her eyes, mumbling something to herself. It seemed like she was growing more irritated with Beth as the seconds ticked past.

  The explanation rolled around inside my head and something wasn’t sitting well with me—the part about Maddox pressing the brake. Because, from the clip I watched, two half-naked bodies, bundles of pink flesh, were struggling to even get into the front seat, so the likelihood of one having the wherewithal to press the brakes was farfetched to say the least.

  I kept my theory to myself, though. Beth had closed herself off to the conversation completely by standing to her feet and cheering the team on. When she rose, Roz’s eyes were locked on me and I felt like… I don’t know… like she hadn’t drank the Kool-Aid either, like she wasn’t buying the sugarcoated explanation any more than I was. But the more I thought about it, rationalized it, Beth had no reason to go through the trouble of covering for Nick, so I let it go. Maybe I did see wrong. Maybe Maddox did manage to brake a little.

  By halftime, it was clear from the scoreboard we had this game in the bag. The big, fat zero on the visiting team’s side was kind of spoiler. The crowd had died down a lot, too. The thrill of the conflict was gone. There was no question who’d get the victory tonight.

  In the last quarter, after a talk from the coach that I was sure had something to do with good sportsmanship, our guys let the others score a touchdown. They barely hustled, practically handing the other team the points. The bleachers thinned out more with each passing minute as people headed toward their cars to beat the rush. By the end, there were maybe a hundred of us left. Nick’s family stuck around. His mom wasn’t watching me anymore, so I was able to get a good look at them all.

  Nick’s dad, Mr. Stokes, was tall and broad just like Nick and his other sons, but they all towered over him, including Nick. The four sons were all dark-haired and handsome, but of course I was partial to one in particular—#26.

  A yawn slipped out and it hit me hard that I still had homework to do tonight if I wanted to hang out tomorrow. And I definitely wanted to hang out tomorrow. So, with the game being over, I decided to cut out.

  “Thanks for inviting me,” I said, turning to Beth as I checked my pocket for my phone.

  She smiled that sneaky smile of hers. “I’m sure you would’ve shown up even if I hadn’t asked you to.” Her eyes widened, darting toward the field suggestively, toward Nick.

  She was probably right about that.

  “But, hey, I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t forget the cookout is a surprise.”

  I knew there would be food, but I thought that meant potato chips and Zebra Cakes at best, not… a full-fledged cookout.

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  I turned to leave, catching the tail end of a look from Roz, one I couldn’t place. Treading lightly, I cleared the creaking bleacher steps and thanked my lucky st
ars to be on solid ground again.

  I managed to get Nick’s attention before leaving and he smiled, mouthing the words, “Text me.”

  That dumb grin of mine took up residency on my face again just as a couple of the cheerleaders turned to see who he was talking to. You could practically feel the hatred rolling off them. I ignored it as heat spread across my cheeks when I nodded.

  He’d hear from me.

  The girls at this school, and no one else for that matter, would stop me.

  —

  Chapter Ten —

  Nick

  They were quiet all through the victory dinner. That was the first sign something was wrong. The second—they’d gone straight to their bedroom and closed the door when we got home. Behind it, I heard muffled conversation, a few words here and there that came out a little louder and harsher than the others.

  Something was up and the only way to find out what, was to eavesdrop.

  No, sitting outside my parents’ door with my ear to it was not my proudest moment, but, after the way my mom treated Evie, and the silent treatment that followed, I needed answers.

  My phone vibrated in my hand, right as my mom accused my dad of being ‘innately naïve’, and I smiled at a text from Evie. About the twentieth one exchanged between us so far tonight. I got impatient waiting for her to send the first and gave in while the team chowed down on dinner—and I finished up my second entree. Maybe part of the reason I reached out first was because I needed to feel her out, needed to make sure my mom hadn’t scared her off. She seemed fine for now, so I didn’t bother bringing it up. As long as she was talking and seemed cool with everything, I’d leave it alone.

  I quickly texted back, picturing her in her bedroom, at her desk working on an assignment for History like she said she was doing. For a moment, I nearly forgot my parents were arguing in the next room, but then their voices picked up and I was promptly reminded.

  “Jackie, you’re jumping to conclusions. Have you considered it might have been cigarettes?”