I just held her for a few amazing seconds. Finally, she straightened up, looked at me and smiled. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to put all this on you.”
I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before removing my hand from it. “It's okay.”
“So … how's Baz?” she asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“He's great.” I told her a little more about my friendship with him, his brother, and his band. I also mentioned the mutual enemy we seemed to have in Kirk Blaisdell. I still hadn't mentioned Baz's interest in April, and I still hadn't told her about my intentions to sing in front of her. I hoped that there would yet be another chance to surprise Kelsey in that regard.
“I'd always heard he was a cool guy,” she said after I finished. “So that bruise under Kirk's eye came from Baz after all? That's so awesome. I've been wanting to punch that guy for years.”
I laughed. “If he starts something, I'll give him one for both of us.”
She gave an uneasy laugh. “As great as that sounds, I wouldn't want you to get in more trouble.”
“Thanks.” Then something she said clicked. “Um … what do you mean, 'more trouble'?”
She suddenly looked nervous. “I just … get the feeling … you're in trouble, that's all.”
Oh, crap.
How does she know? She can't know! What do I do now?
I dug my fingernails into my palms. I chose the most distant point on the far side of the playground to stare at.
“Kelsey, I ….” I couldn't even finish the sentence.
“I'm right, aren't I?”
“Please,” I begged, almost whispering. “I can't.”
This was going so well. Now I feel like it's all collapsing. Why'd this have to happen?
You knew it was going to happen, idiot. You just didn't want to believe it.
“Ethan, whatever it is, it's okay. You can trust me.”
If only it were that simple. But it isn't.
“Kelsey … I like you. But I can't talk about this. Not with you. Not with anyone.”
I have to get out of here. Now. Before this gets any worse.
She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Ethan, I …”
I jumped to my feet, shaking my hand free of hers. “I have to go.” And without another word, I hopped off the bleachers and walked away as fast as I could. I didn't even dare look back.
* * *
On the ride home, all I could do was stare out the window, watching as the street names flew by.
Logan was in a much better mood than I was. Had to be Sophie. “You okay?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said, not looking at him.
“Any problems at school?” asked Gillian, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. “If there are, you need to tell me, you know.”
“I know,” I said. “It's nothing. Just … girl stuff.”
The car pulled up to a red light. She turned around and faced me again, removing her shades. “Can I help? I was a girl once,” she said, smiling slightly.
I smirked, then shook my head.
My name is Ethan Zimmer, and my life sucks. Big time.
Chapter 20
~ DAY 23 (Tue.) ~
KELSEY
Within seconds of arriving home, I snatched a pint of Ben & Jerry's out of the freezer, grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer and headed right for my room.
Slamming the door almost off the hinges, I threw my backpack into the corner and kicked my shoes off so hard they slid under my bed. I fell into the bed and opened the container of ice cream in one smooth movement. Bruno sat up, glaring at me for disturbing his slumber, but quickly lost interest in me as soon as he saw the container in my hand.
I scratched behind his ears, listening to the sound of his purr. Smiling at how uncomplicated the life of a cat is, I pressed the tip of my finger into the ice-cold contents and held it out for Bruno to lick, which he happily did.
Left to my own devices, my mood hung darkly over me like a cloud. My mind raced with thoughts of Ethan. I could hear my Dad's voice, clear as a bell, inside my head.
'You're a smart girl, Kelsey,' he'd said. 'But there's a difference between intelligence and wisdom.”
I'm great at figuring stuff out, at solving problems. And look where it's gotten me.
I pictured Ethan's face. The image of his pained expression had etched itself into my memory. Ethan's not a puzzle, Kelsey, he's a person. Just like you. A person with feelings and emotions, a heart and a mind, just like you. An amazing, thoughtful, sensitive boy whose personal space you have egregiously violated. First I dump all my girl-crap with Bree on him, and then I get in his face like a cop grilling a perp.
So this is wisdom. And it stings like a mother.
Putting the ice cream down on my dresser, I walked over to my desk, retrieving the small notebook from my drawer. I'd written about ten pages of notes and observations about Ethan in it over the last few weeks. And now, I finally realized, they all added up to precisely nothing.
One by one, I tore every page I had written on out of the notebook, and proceeded to shred them into a hundred jagged pieces. By the time I was done, they were confetti lining the bottom of my wastebasket.
Lord willing, Ethan and I can still be friends. But the investigation is over. As of now.
I heard a plaintive meow from behind me. Turning around, I saw Bruno sitting up on my bed, licking his chops, obviously making a request for seconds.
I stood up, grabbed the ice cream and sat back down on my bed, letting him lick the delicious dairy product off my fingertip while stroking him with the other hand. He turned to look up at me, and for a second I thought I saw gratitude in his blue eyes.
I sat there looking at the puffy ball of white fur next to me, and sighed. “If only human boys were as easy to understand as you,” I said, smiling.
The look he gave me I translated to, Yeah, whatever, more ice cream, please.
Chapter 21
~ DAY 26 (Fri.) ~
ETHAN
I stood there, the others hanging well back, as I faced Kirk. I suddenly realized I was far more scared of getting into trouble with the principal, and with Pop, than I was of losing in a fight to this prick.
I was eating at Baz's table, just like I had been for the last few weeks, when I heard someone whistle right behind me. I turned around only to get Kirk's basketball right in the face. It hurt like hell.
I was up and out of my seat immediately, but once again, Baz held me back. I was so mad, it took all my willpower not to beat the crap out of Kirk right then and there. But Baz had reminded me on several occasions that the principal was a real hard-ass about fighting. After a few choice insults, we decided to settle it during recess at The Big Tree.
The playground at JMMS was huge. The faculty parking lot was immediately south of it, and the road leading away from the school only led in one direction, that being south. Heading north, the road led to a dead-end for cars, but there was a dirt path kids could use if they rode their bikes to school. About halfway down this dirt path was a humongous ash tree that dwarfed every other tree in the vicinity. This was the place where boys went to duke it out and – hopefully – not get caught.
Obviously, a huge crowd sneaking off school grounds would be noticed by even the least observant of teachers, so only I, Baz, Dean, Kirk, and Kirk's idiot friends Jimmy and Rusty went. This suited everyone just fine, and Baz assured me that he and Dean had my back if Jimmy or Rusty decided to get involved.
I'd gotten into fights before, but it had been awhile. The last one was against Ross Albright, the bully at my old school. He liked to talk smack but wasn't nearly as tough as he let on. Kirk reminded me a lot of him. Hopefully the outcome would be the same.
I'd already taken off my denim jacket and handed it to Dean. No sense staining my new jacket with Richie Rich's blood, I thought with a smirk. I clenched my fists and held them in front of me, waiting for him to make the first move. I gave him my best scowl, trying to match the ones
on the faces of the members of Metallica that stared out from the front of my T-shirt.
“Come on, douche bag,” I said. “Let's do this.”
Kirk scowled and then rushed at me, fast. I didn't have time to dodge before he tackled me by my waist, sending us both sprawling in the dirt. I had no sooner landed before I felt his fist in my gut. I gasped in pain, but was able to connect with my right fist, somewhere between his cheek and his ear. He rolled away from me, holding his hand to his face, allowing me to scramble to my feet.
“That all you got, beach ball?” I said with a grin adopting Baz's taunt. I shot a look at Baz, who laughed.
“You wish, monkey boy,” he snarled, and rushed me again. This time, I was ready, and sidestepped him as he ran through the empty air that I'd just vacated. I stuck out my foot and he tripped over it, falling face-first to the dusty ground.
I was tempted to hit him or kick him while he was still down, but I chose that moment to take a couple of steps back. Kirk was an a-hole, but I was not going to stoop to his level. I was going to kick his butt fair and square, though I doubted he would play by the same rules. He climbed to his feet, his expensive shirt covered in dirt. His face was priceless. He obviously wasn't expecting this from me. Good.
He took two steps toward me, approaching much more cautiously this time. He's quick and athletic, gotta remember that. Suddenly, he raised his left hand as if he was going to swing it in a wide arc, but as I dodged, I moved into the path of his right hand, which caught me on my chin.
I staggered back a few feet, but he was already attacking again, this time with his left. I saw it just in time to duck underneath it, balling up my fist and driving it into his gut. I could hear the breath leave his body as he clutched his stomach. I'd hurt him.
He backed up, standing in front of his two friends. I thought he was going to take the coward's way out and have them join the fight, so I backed up a few yards until I was flanked by Baz and Dean.
Covered in dirt and too out of breath to even insult me further, Kirk stepped forward again. He's losing, and he knows it. He probably outweighed me by a few pounds, and was fairly muscular, but what he didn't know was that I'd taken a couple of self-defense lessons at the YMCA when I was eleven. Those lessons had come in handy against Ross, and they were coming in handy today.
Screaming in anger, he rushed at me again, arms outstretched, considerably slower than the first time. I went in reverse, grabbing his arms while falling backwards. I lifted my feet up before he could fall on top of me, braced them against his stomach, and then, using his own momentum, flipped him into the air and over my head. He landed on his back with a thud, sending a cloud of dust flying upward.
Baz and Dean ran to my side, both offering me a hand. They hauled me to my feet, and I turned to look at Kirk, who was barely moving. Jimmy and Rusty rushed forward, wondering if their friend was okay.
I took a step toward Jimmy and Rusty, who looked a lot more scared of me than they did a few minutes ago. Glaring at them, I hissed, “Make you guys a deal … you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. You got it?”
Likely not wanting to piss me off any further, they simply nodded. Kirk was still lying on the ground, trying to chase the cobwebs out of his head.
“Let's go, boss,” Baz said, tugging at my sleeve. I nodded, brushed as much dust off my clothes as I could, and then walked back toward the school, with Baz and Dean falling into step on either side of me.
Dean chuckled, handing my jacket back to me. “You're a freakin' badass, Ethan.”
“Yeah, no kiddin',” said Baz. “That was flippin' impressive, pal.”
I nudged Baz with my shoulder. “Thanks. Amazing what two judo lessons and a lifetime of Jackie Chan movies can teach you.” They both laughed while I rubbed the spot on my chin where Kirk had punched me.
“Yeah, boyo,” Baz said. “Maybe you can teach me some of them fancy moves sometime?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “I thought all you Irish knew how to fight. You beat Kirk before, right?”
His face reddened. “Actually … that fight with Kirk was the first one I'd ever been in. In me whole life.”
“What?!” I asked, shocked.
He grinned. “Well, like you said, everyone thinks that all Irish people know how to fight, so all I had to do is get in a few punches for him to back off. Truth is, I don't know a thing about fighting. I'm a rocker, not a fighter.”
“So that lucky shot he said you got in …”
“Was a lucky shot.” He lowered his voice, even though there was no one within a hundred yards of us. “Don't tell anyone.”
Despite the pain, I couldn't help but laugh.
* * *
Logan and I went to Baz's house again, but it wasn't until we got there that we found out that Elijah had sprained his thumb a couple of days ago, and since Joey didn't have his driver's license yet, rehearsal was effectively canceled.
That didn't bother Logan at all, as he and Sean just took their spots in front of the video-game console and began their latest war against the French Army. Baz and I went into his backyard, where he dug a couple of bottles of root beer out of an outdoor cooler. He offered me one, and we sat down on some very comfortable chairs that were next to an expensive-looking barbecue.
We passed the time by talking about music, mostly. Our favorite bands, our favorite songs, et cetera. Since meeting Baz, I'd spent a lot of time in my room listening to the local classic rock station on my clock/radio, and I felt like now I could have a conversation with Baz about his favorite genre without feeling like a total hypocrite.
Of course, being thirteen-year-old boys, the conversation inevitably became about girls, and I told him everything that had happened between me and Kelsey. He just sat there and listened. He didn't tease me, or insult me, or give me the benefit of his experience as a budding rock star that all the girls went gaga over. I told him about as much about myself and my life as I'd told Kelsey, and I was thankful that he wasn't as naturally curious as she was.
“You've had a hell of a year, Ethan,” he finally said, taking a swig from his root beer bottle, draping his leg over the arm of his chair.
“Yeah, I know. And the year isn't even over yet. That's a scary thought.”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But at least ya got Kelsey. She really seems to like ya, so that's somethin'.” He smiled broadly. “Givin' her the pretzel two days later … that was freakin' brilliant, man.”
I grinned back at him. “Thanks. I wish she could have been at the show, though.”
His eyes widened. “Hey, that reminds me … there's a dance at school in a couple of weeks. Me dad made a few phone calls to see if me and the guys could do the music, and guess what, we got the gig.”
“Really? That's awesome!”
“I know. So maybe you'll get a chance to sing in front of Kelsey after all.”
The thought rolled through my head. Me and Baz, mikes in hand, singing “Blitzkrieg Bop” to a cafeteria full of cheering classmates. And Kelsey, front and center, smiling at me with that awesome smile. I smiled, holding out my fist. “I'm so in, man.”
“Yeah, buddy!” he replied, returning the fist-bump. “That's what I'm talkin' about! It's gonna be epic!”
I looked at Baz. What a great friend he was. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like we'd been friends for years. No one had ever had my back like him. And he's freakin' cool, too.
“Hey, Ethan, ya doin' anything tomorrow night?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, what's up?”
“Joey and Elijah are going to this party at a friend's house. It's a few blocks away, on Cedar Lane. They asked me to tag along. I'm sure they'd let you come along too, if you wanted to.”
“A party? What kind of party?”
“Dunno. Mostly high-schoolers, I think. There'll be girls there …”
I frowned. “And you think they'll talk to a couple of eighth-graders?”
“Well … maybe we'll leave out that
piece of info,” he said, grinning.
“I don't know, Baz … I don't want to get into trouble with my Pop. Or Kelsey.”
“Well, just think about it, anyway.” He stood up. “If you wanna come, be here around six, and we'll go over there together. If not, no worries.”
“We'll see,” I said, also rising to my feet.
“Ya wanna give the song another try?”
“Sure,” I said, grinning as we walked back to the garage.
My name is Ethan Zimmer, and I wish it would stay that way.
Chapter 22
~ DAY 26 (Fri.) ~
KELSEY
A few more days passed. Ethan and I hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other in that time, but I didn't get the sense that he was avoiding me either, for which I was grateful.
I hadn't revealed to my friends that my relationship with him had hit a bump in the road. If it was simple jealousy that Bree was exhibiting, then news of the abrupt way that my last conversation with Ethan ended would probably make her feel better. And that would make me feel even worse, because I just couldn't believe that the Bree I'd been best friends with since fifth grade could be that petty.
I'd made it a point every day to look for that black car sitting just outside the entrance gate while on my way to sixth-period Social Studies. Every single day, it had been there. Its position changed somewhat every time, and once I even thought I saw the car vibrate slightly, as if someone was moving around inside it, causing the car's weight to shift, but I figured it was just my overactive imagination playing tricks on me.
I'd kept a respectful distance from Ethan since Tuesday, but with the weekend looming, I was hoping we could patch things up enough so that we could resume our talks, maybe even plan another date. I needed to know that we were still cool. After fifth-period ended, I ran to catch up to him.
“Hey, Ethan,” I said, falling into step alongside him.
“Hey,” he said, slowing down a little.
Ethan's Secret (James Madison Series Book 2) Page 12
