Even with the mysterious boy’s continued stares, the game went by quickly, and I found myself enjoying it more than I had thought I would. I couldn’t help but join in with the crowd’s excited screams and cheers; their excitement was infectious, and before long, I was smiling from ear to ear. Ryland was right, a good Rugby game was the pick-me-up I needed. The Whittier Academy team made a scramble toward their line and I got swept up in the screams and hollers of hundreds of boys, anticipation of another goal resonating through everyone.
Ryland’s team had the ball, passing it from teammate to teammate as they ran down the pitch. The ball got to Ryland, only for him to be tackled roughly by the opposing team when two players lunged at him, sending him backwards into three more. All five members of the opposing team and Ryland went down in a spectacular heap of bodies. The ball continued on, but it took a moment before Ryland stood again, a bit of blood dripping from a cut in his lip. I stood in worry. I must have looked ridiculous because I heard Tyler laugh beside me.
“He’s fine,” he yelled over the roar or the crowd. “It’s normal.”
I nodded as I looked back to the field to see that Ryland had already run to rejoin the play. I had seen a few of these tackles during this game alone, but it still seemed rough, given that the players wore no padding. I sat down, aware that Edmund’s bodyguard was staring in my direction.
Ryland jostled back into place among the running bodies. The ball quickly passed to him, but this time, he avoided all of the other players as he weaved around each of them. Once he passed them, the wide expanse of field lay before him. He took off in a dead run toward the goal line, his strong legs pumping him forward until he reached the other end of the field for a glorious goal. Our side of the stadium erupted as Ryland turned around in a sort of victory salute.
“26 – 19 with one minute left. We are State Champs!” Tyler yelled, drowning out the voice of the announcer who tried in vain to say that Ryland had scored the winning points.
Ryland continued to dance and move about as the members from his team surrounded him. He sought me out before blowing a kiss in my direction. I looked around for who his gesture was aimed at before turning back to him in shock. What a dangerous thing to do with his father right there; I wasn’t sure if I should be overjoyed or scared. My eyes locked with his, as my heart stuttered to a stop before he turned and ran back onto the field. I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“I didn’t know you and Ryland were like that,” Tyler yelled suggestively in my ear. My mind clicked back into action and I turned to face him.
“What?”
“You know. I didn’t know he loved you.” He stretched out his vowels in a taunt. I stared at him, unsure of what to say. I looked away from Tyler, not wanting to give him the glory of an answer, confused about what I would say anyway.
The finality of the game explained the excitement level of the crowd. Everyone was yelling at the top of their lungs, jumping up and down. Banners of blue and silver waved all around me as the boys began the deep booming war-cry that was the signature of their team. I couldn’t help but join in, knowing my petite voice would not even be heard among them.
The ending whistle sounded and the stands emptied as the occupants rushed the field. The banners multiplied, and the screaming and yelling increased in amplitude, if that was possible. I was swept up with them in the excitement, forgetting that Ryland’s father was still in such close proximity. But I didn’t care; I wanted to find Ryland somewhere in the crowd and throw myself in his arms and congratulate him.
I made it about halfway to the field before a sharp pain shot into my chest, causing me to stop short. It felt like I had been burned. My hand moved to the pain, shocked to feel Ryland’s necklace red hot under my sweater. As soon as my hand made contact with it, the heat left it, taking the pain away. I looked at my hand and sweater, expecting to see welts or scorch marks, but nothing was there. I continued to stand in place as the crowd jostled me around in their attempts to pass my stationary form.
One perfectly placed shoulder was all it took to take me down. The force of the jolt sent me down hard. I threw my hands out in front of me, but not in time. My knee hit first, meeting the hard asphalt of the track that surrounded the field, a jolt of pain surging through my leg. My hands hit next, sliding against the asphalt in a deep grind that rattled my wrists. I winced with the pain that moved through my joints, waiting for my brain to catch up with me. A warm, stinging sensation spread across my knee, a telltale sign I was bleeding.
The bodies flowed past me in a steady stream I could barely see through. Knees, feet and legs jostled me around, digging my injured joints further into the ground. I looked around for some form of safety from them. I had just caught sight of the home team’s benches when a giant tug grew out of my chest; it felt like someone had grabbed the necklace in an attempt to pull me toward safety. I followed the inward pull, my hand fluttering around my sweater to shoo away whatever was pulling at me.
I pulled myself onto the bleachers, the changing angle sending a sharp sting through my knee. My jeans had ripped, revealing a couple of bleeding cuts. My mom was going to kill me; I only had a few pair of jeans and we couldn’t afford to buy me a new pair right now.
I winced as I removed the loose bits of asphalt from my knee and the palms of my hands; my hands had small scrapes but no blood was drawn. With the asphalt gone, the cuts on my knee didn’t look so bad, but they still stung. I screwed up my face in irritation, resigning myself to sit there until the crowd had partied out and Ryland found me.
I had only sat still a moment before Ryland burst through the rambunctious crowd in front of me, his brow furrowed in worry. His chin was dribbled in dry blood, his battered lip now swollen and blue. He looked at me before catching sight of my knee and dropping down to inspect it.
“Are you all right? I got here as quickly as I could.” His hands hovered around my knee for a bit before deciding the jeans were a lost cause; he reached out, obviously intent on ripping them more.
“No, don’t!” I pleaded.
“What?”
“I need these jeans, Ry.” I hoped he would catch my meaning without my having to profess my poverty.
“I’ll buy you some more,” he smiled shyly at me before pulling his hands apart, ripping the jeans down to the seam.
Great, my mom was going to kill me now. They weren’t even patchable. I highly doubted she would let Ryland actually buy me a pair of new jeans, either. The cuts weren’t even that bad; they just liked to bleed a lot.
“Did you see me fall?” I asked, wondering what he had meant before.
Ryland looked up at me, a confused look on his face.
“You got here ‘as quickly as you could’?” I asked, repeating his phrasing.
He still sat at my feet trying to find something to stop the bleeding.
“Yeah, I was standing over there,” he said, jutting his chin in the direction he came from.
He looked around a bit, as if he were looking for someone rather than something. Seeming not to find anyone specific, he sighed and removed his Rugby jersey.
My heart stopped. His muscles rippled as he removed the shirt, sweat glistening off every part of him. I should have been disgusted, but I couldn’t tear my dumbfounded stare away from him. His muscles were more spectacular than I would have expected: large defined shapes, dare I say, chiseled into his skin. He had a large ace bandage wrapped around his right shoulder, as if he were nursing an injury. I didn’t know that he had been hurt, though; he normally told me about these things. The whole image of him standing before me was like a bad cover on a romance novel. I forced myself to look away as he wrapped the shirt around my knee.
“It’s not the most sanitary, but it will work for now.” He tied the shirt before sweeping me up in his arms, careful to hold me away from his sweaty body.
“Ry! Put me down! I can walk!”
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, a small smile playing at the
edge of his lips as he carried me out of the stadium.
I looked behind us and saw the horde of people jumping and cheering and felt a pain of guilt.
“You’re going to miss your party,” I whispered, knowing the pleading was evident in my voice.
He didn’t slow his pace, but his jaw hardened and his hold on me tightened.
“Don’t worry about it.” His voice was controlled.
“Ry, it’s your senior year; you just won State. You. You scored the final points. You need to be there!” He didn’t respond as he set me in the passenger seat of his bright yellow Lotus.
“Okay, how about I take you home and then I’ll come back. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
“I can stay, Ryland,” I pleaded. “It’s just a little cut.”
“It’s not safe for you here.” He shut the door behind me and walked around the car. I turned my head toward the party. I wanted to stay too, whether it was “safe” or not.
“What do you mean, it’s not safe? Is it because your dad showed up?” He threw the car in reverse, ignoring my question.
“Ryland?”
“It’s just… Private school guys tend to drink a lot and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
It seemed like the lamest excuse I had ever heard; my forehead must have wrinkled in surprise. Ryland laughed and then reached over to smooth my forehead with his thumb.
“You think I can’t fend off a bunch of drunken brats?” I was affronted. I may come off as timid but I could defend myself. Or, at least I hoped I could.
“I know you can’t,” he said.
“Have some faith in me, Ry.” I don’t know why, but my pride bristled. Ryland looked at me with obvious concern.
“Drinking, drugs. We are all just spoiled boys. You shouldn’t be around that.”
“We?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t counting himself among them.
“Just trust me, ’kay? I know it kinda sucks, but I want to protect you.” His comment was odd; it still made no sense why I couldn’t stay.
“Protect me?”
“Yes, Jos. There are just some people that you shouldn’t be around.” His voice seemed distant and far away as if he were thinking about something different. I opened my mouth to say something, but I blew off the idea of asking any more questions. He was set in his thoughts and not likely to respond.
He drove far too fast, his car weaving in and out of traffic in a mad rush to get back to my tiny apartment. We didn’t go to my house though – we went to his. He pulled through the large wrought-iron gates, speeding back to the door by the kitchen. His sporty Lotus looked ridiculous next to my mom’s rusty station wagon, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
I moved to get out of the car, but Ryland rushed around and picked me up before I could stand. The car ride had rid his skin of the glistening sweat, and he now held me close to his chest. The warmth from his skin seeped through my sweater and spread over my skin comfortably.
“I can walk, Ry,” I protested, albeit half-heartedly. He smiled down at me as he walked across the parking lot and into the kitchen that was empty except for my mother.
“What happened?” my mom asked, her eyes bugging out of her head.
“She fell on some asphalt and cut her knee. I need to get back but wanted to make sure she was okay first,” he explained to her, his eyes never leaving mine. I heard my mom exclaim and rush out of the kitchen, presumably for a first-aid kit.
Ryland lowered me to the barstool I usually sat on. His movements were slow and controlled, his face lingering near mine for longer than was necessary. I was overwhelmed by his smell as he moved away from me, his face stopping inches from mine. My mind filled with images of our interlocked lips, but I didn’t push them away this time.
Ryland lifted his hand to my face, resting it against my jaw line as his thumb caressed my cheek. I was so confused. Wasn’t it just this morning he had worried that I had gotten the wrong idea from the necklace? Wasn’t it just this morning that he told me he just wanted to be friends? Wasn’t it? My heart beat uncomfortably in my chest as he moved his head towards mine, his eyes darting down to my lips before returning to capture my gaze. My mom cleared her throat behind me, and we both jumped.
“See you on Monday, Jos,” Ryland smiled at me before turning and rushing out the door. I sat still, in shock, feeling like I was robbed of something important to me. I stared at the door longer than was necessary as I tried to wade through an endless sea of confusion.
My mom huffed and came over to me, first-aid kit in hand. “You can’t have him, you know,” she said, her voice a calm whisper. She didn’t even look at me; her focus was on my cut knee.
“I know,” I said, surprised at the sadness in my voice. “Just this morning he was saying the necklace meant nothing and he was just my friend. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“Him?” my mother asked. “There seemed to be a lot of you in that equation.”
I sighed in response. I knew she was right. Whether he was the one to initiate something or not, I would not be the one to stop it. What had happened to us in the past few days? Couldn’t we go back to playing conquer the castle and destroying monsters on his Play Station?
“What’s going on?” I threw my head into my hands.
“You love him,” she said.
“What?”
“Well, you do; you always have – both of you. Now, it’s just grown into something a little bit more mature.”
“But I still can’t have him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“No, honey, no matter how many amazing, rippling muscles he has,” she laughed. “Your being with him is like a serving girl marrying a king; it’s not going to happen. Life is not a fairy tale.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Leave him alone, make new friends, and forget about him.”
My heart plummeted at her words. I didn’t want to do that. Forbidden romance or no, he was still my best friend, and soon, he would be leaving me forever.
“I can’t do that, Mom. He’s leaving for Oxford in just a few months; then… then I’ll never see him again.”
My mom sighed at me. I could tell she didn’t approve. She wanted me to walk away from him, but she couldn’t stand to see me hurting either.
“Weren’t you telling me just a few days ago how love changes you? How wonderful love is?” I couldn’t keep the accusatory tone out of my voice, no matter how hard I tried.
“This is different.”
“How is this different, Mom? It doesn’t feel different.”
“You will be able to tell the difference when you experience the real thing... when you experience something you can keep.”
I looked at her for a long time. The way she had talked about dad before, I could feel that same desperate longing in me now, and it kind of scared me.
“How many times have you been in love, Mom?” I asked her. I saw her hesitate, her chest heave.
“You need to remember that he is your friend, Joclyn, not a boyfriend.” She avoided my question. “Give your heart to someone who can take it and not break it, honey, because in all honesty, I’m not sure what Edmund would do if he found out.”
And that was the real reason anything between Ryland and me could never work.
Edmund would kill me.
Chapter Five
I had been picking at the remains of my cafeteria pizza for about the last ten minutes, my eyes unfocused and looking off into space. I could hear the ebbing noise in the cafeteria, a sure sign that lunch was almost over, but I wasn’t going to move until the bell rang. I sighed as another piece of pizza crust fell away from the whole and onto the plate.
I had been lost in thought for most of the day, my mind jumping back to my roller-coaster of a weekend. No matter how many times I revisited each event, I still couldn’t make sense of it. Crazy father, awesome best friend who keeps trying to kiss me, and a mother who – although she is right – wants me to stay
away from Ryland forever. I sighed again, in hopes that some of the stress would leave my tensed body.
“You must be new, too.”
I looked up from my decimated pizza as a girl plopped down across the table from me.
She was small for a high school student, her frame appearing almost delicate and breakable. But her large, brown eyes did not seem young; instead, she almost looked like she had seen and experienced too much of life. She had shoulder length auburn hair that gently curled around her heart shaped face. She moved her hand onto the table and about thirty hard plastic bracelets clinked against the melamine surface. I had to smile at her choice of clothes: the “Styx” t-shirt was obviously vintage and looked like something my mom would have worn in high school.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, recovering from my shock.
“Well, you’re sitting alone.”
“Ha,” I laughed humorlessly. “You are the new one. I always sit alone.”
“I’m Wyn.”
I took her extended hand and she shook it over-enthusiastically, plastic bangles clinking together. “Joclyn.”
She grinned as if my name had made her happy.
“I just love your name!” she squealed, her joy was either infectious or nauseating – I couldn’t decide. “It’s like something out of 17th century literature. Who were you named after?”
“I don’t think I was named after anything,” I said. I was actually named after my Dad’s favorite aunt, but I wasn’t about to share that with this obnoxious girl I just met.
“That’s lucky. My full name is Wynifred and my mother named me after some ancient relative who is supposed to be a queen,” she chattered.
Kiss Of Fire (Imdalind Series) Page 5
