PLAYING FOR KEEPS

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PLAYING FOR KEEPS Page 14

by MacLeod, J. E.


  “You want to wait and see if your parents are coming?” I asked, even though I wanted to get far away from the cops and from any questions they might have about Mac.

  “No. They’re at the rehab place with Josh.”

  I nodded, remembering Josh’s predicament.

  “Hailey has a crush on him,” I said, feeling like a traitor.

  “Yeah, I thought so. Well, he’s going to need some good friends when he gets back.”

  I nodded again, wondering if she still had a thing for him after what had happened between us.

  “I can’t believe Mona killed herself,” I said.

  A tear fell from Jane’s eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. I glanced up and saw Mac’s father rushing across the front lawn of the school, not even bothering to use the sidewalk.

  “Let’s walk,” I said to Jane, nudging her along and away from the chaos of the school.

  She nodded and we began to move. “She was my best friend, Zack.”

  “She was? What happened?”

  Jane didn’t say anything for a while. She looked around the parking lot as we crossed it.

  “We never said a word about it. Not to anyone.”

  “About what?” I frowned, not sure what she was saying.

  “We were in the eighth grade. I was babysitting for a kid who lived a couple blocks away. Mona came with me—we were inseparable then; and the family didn’t mind it was both of us. The kids were little and they were sleeping when we got there.” She stopped and took a deep breath.

  “After the parents left, Mona got on the phone. She sort of idealized Candy then, since Candy was new at school that year. I didn’t like her much, and we didn’t really discuss it. Anyway, Mona and Candy had a bit of a thing for Trevor--Mac, I mean. Honestly, even I didn’t think he was that bad back then. At least not until, well, later.” She sighed, but I didn’t speak. I waited for her to continue.

  “About an hour or so later, the doorbell rang. I went to the door and cracked it open a bit. Mac pushed hard against it, knocking me against the wall. There were a couple of older guys with him. They pushed right past me and went down the hallway, past the family room and into the kitchen. They opened the fridge and cupboards, helping themselves to food and drinks. Then the three of them shared a beer.”

  I sucked in my breath as I waited for her to continue.

  “They were whooping and hollering. When I think about it now, they were probably drunk. But I had no idea at the time. I mean, we were thirteen.

  “I kept telling them to be quiet, to leave. I was so afraid they’d wake up the kids. They lit up a cigarette in the house, and I started freaking out. I told them to get out. They were being so loud and obnoxious. I was standing in the kitchen, yelling at them and almost crying. Mona was in the living room, trying to stop one of the guys from turning on the stereo.

  “I heard Mona laugh a little, but she sounded kind of nervous. The guy, Richie, had stopped fooling with the stereo buttons and was playing with hers. Our eyes met for a moment, and I saw the fear in Mona’s. But there was something else, too. Then I started crying.

  “I didn’t know what to do with these three crazy guys who were bigger than we were, and who just wouldn’t leave. All I could think about was how much trouble I was going to get into.” She stopped and gnawed on a fingernail before she spoke again.

  “Mona started sounding more nervous, telling the guy to leave her alone. He had his hand up her shirt and his mouth buried in her neck. She was leaning back, trying to get away. I yelled at him, then started down the steps to the living room. But that’s when the other guy grabbed me. His name was Terry. He held my arms behind my back.”

  She made a face and shook her head. “At first, Mac seemed almost confused. I was asking him to help us, but the guy holding Mona was egging him on. He grabbed Mona and ripped open the zipper on her jeans, then stuck his hand down her pants. Then he told Mac to have a feel.”

  I swallowed, my anger building.

  “She tried to get away but she couldn’t. She was always tiny and they outweighed her by at least forty or fifty pounds.”

  My hands clenched into a fist.

  “Then the guy holding me called Mac, and told him to do it to me, too, to compare. And he did. He stuck his hands down my pants. And then the guy holding Mona yelled. She’d bitten him or something. Mac went back to Mona while the other guy held me. Mona, well, she was a lot more developed than I was. So Mac took her shirt off. And then he started doing other really rude things to her. I was crying and wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t let Mona be all alone. Mona was crying, too, and finally I just lost it. I started screaming, loud. To hell with waking the kids.

  “Mac freaked! He looked me in the eye, and then he kind of jumped off Mona. He told the other guys they’d better go, before someone heard me screaming. He looked right at me and he said, ‘You totally deserve this, you little cock tease.’ And then they finally were gone. They just pushed both of us onto the floor, and then they took off.”

  Jane stopped talking for a second, a little out of breath. “Mona put on her clothes and went home. I had to stay, of course. I couldn’t leave the kids by themselves. I cleaned up the mess and opened up all the windows, trying to clear out the cigarette smell. And when the couple got back, I went home without telling anyone what had happened. I thought it was all my fault. And Mona probably thought it was hers. We never talked about what happened that night. Not ever.

  “After that, she started hanging out with Candy and the wilder crowd. She started drinking, and eventually she and I just stopped talking to each other.”

  I reached for her and pulled her close. She let me hold her for a while. She kept talking into my chest. “That’s when I dyed my hair black. My parents hated it, but since I’d never done anything bad before, they couldn’t do much about it. They were too busy worrying about Josh to really worry too much about me. But I knew I didn’t want blonde hair anymore. I didn’t want boys looking at me like that ever again.”

  I held her tighter for a moment, and then I stepped back. I took a breath and told her about the scene I’d found when I went back to check on Mona. I wanted to tell her the truth, and I told her about the fight with Mac. But I didn’t mention the part with Hailey on the ride home.

  Jane’s eyes filled with tears when she heard what Mac had done to Mona.

  “I’d like to kill him myself,” she said.

  “You wouldn’t look good in stripes,” I joked.

  I pulled her close and breathed in the fresh scent of her hair. God! I liked this girl. I really did.

  “You should tell the police. About what happened.”

  She shook her head and pushed me away. “No. I mean, it wouldn’t really change anything. And I don’t need everyone to know. I mean, no.”

  “Okay.” I understood. I reached for her and we were still hugging when I heard my name being called.

  “Zachary? Zachary!”

  It was my mom. She came running and then slowed down as she got closer.

  “I heard about that girl. Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  “You?” she asked Jane.

  I was glad she included Jane.

  “Jane and Mona were friends,” I told her.

  She nodded. “Your parents coming to get you?”

  Jane shook her head. “They’re busy with my brother.”

  “Do you want to come with Zachary and me? We could all go somewhere to talk. I’ll take you kids to the store. You can chat with Aunt Diane and me about it. Would that help?” She wrung her hands, not really sure what to do.

  “Thanks, Mom. But I don’t know. I think we’ll stay here for now. They’re kind of having us gather in the gym for counseling. I’d kind of like to go back there and listen.”

  Mom nodded and rung her hands some more. For the first time she was out of her element. Claire would have left me and run to my mom for a hug of reassurance. Jane would never think of doing something like t
hat.

  “Okay. Well, can I get you kids anything?”

  “Mom, it’s okay. Go to work. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

  “I’ll pick you up after school. If you need me, you call, okay?”

  “Uh, yeah. Actually, I think I’m going to go to the rink, Mom. There’s a practice at 4:30. Jane can probably drive me.”

  I glanced at Jane. She nodded. When I turned back to Mom, a look of joy washed across her face, and then she looked a little guilty.

  “Oh?” she said in a calm voice that didn’t fool me at all.

  “Yeah. I’m going to lace up. My equipment is at the rink. I’ll do a little skating. Might as well get ready to get back in the game.”

  She nodded her head, her eyes shining with emotion.

  She smiled at Jane, in case she was the reason for the sudden change in my attitude.

  She rocked on her heels and then smiled, and finally said goodbye.

  When she was gone, Jane turned to me. “You’re going back to the team?”

  “I am going to kill him in a completely legal way.”

  Jane nodded, her eyes wide. “Yes. Hurt him!”

  “I think I might have a little already. His reputation, anyhow. Besides, this is only hockey, but I’ll do what I can on the ice, where it matters to Mac. We’ll see what I can do off the ice, too.”

  #

  A few days later, Mr. Wright smiled at me as I walked backstage during the Grease rehearsal.

  “You’re sure you want to go through with this, Zack?” he said, grinning at me. “There’s still time to bail. This is only the dress rehearsal, and if I had to, I could find someone else to dance with the T-Birds and do the guitar solo.”

  He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand, frowning as he studied his notes. He’d gathered everyone from the play together before rehearsal, and we decided to dedicate the play as a tribute to Mona’s memory.

  “You know, for a teacher, you like to taunt me a lot. Maybe I’m a little nervous.”

  He glanced up from the clipboard and winked. “You’ll be great, Zack. I’m not worried about you.”

  I hesitated before I spoke again. “I have a hockey game, you know, on opening night.”

  Mr. Wright nodded. “Big game for your team, win or lose.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m used to pressure.”

  He studied me and then spoke again, his teasing tone gone, his voice more serious. “You know, I really can get someone else if you have stuff to do after the game. You know, if it’s too much. I know you’re under a lot of pressure.”

  “No--I’ll be here. There’s enough time for me to make it back after the game.”

  Backstage, kids were scrambling. Everyone was in costume. Cassandra hurried by, waving at me. She was playing one of the Pink Ladies. She was clearly the best singer, but someone thinner got the part of Sandy. Cassandra hadn’t been too upset about it, but Jane was hopping mad.

  Mr. Wright nodded and waved at Cassandra, assuming her greeting had been for him. “Okay, it’s your call. Don’t let us down, Zachary. If you commit to it, you’ve got to get back here for the play. This is as important to the cast and me as your hockey game is to you.”

  I grinned at him. “Maybe this is more important: my new career. Zack Chase, actor. Maybe next year, I’ll be the star of the show.”

  “You could do it if you wanted. Your voice is good enough for a lead.” He started towards the entrance of the stage.

  He waved his hand and called over his shoulder. “You’ll figure it all out. You have to decide what you want to do, Zachary, you. It’s up to you and nobody else.”

  He disappeared into a circle of teenagers who were fretting and jumpy from stage fright.

  Decisions. That’s what it always boiled down to. I needed to figure out what I wanted. Myself. I smiled.

  Before any of that, I knew I had a few things to do first.

  I decided I would walk. The police station wasn’t too far from the school. And I had something important to talk to the police about.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ZACK’S BACK

  Whack.

  I was back.

  A kid had checked me and it hurt like hell, but I just kept skating, ignoring the pain. I expected the other team to exploit my weakness. We were in the playoffs now and it was all about winning. And winning was what Zachary Chase had been born to do.

  I skated after the puck, my eyes focused on the little black object I lusted after. Once I felt it on my stick, I knew no one could stop me. I would barrel over anything in my way. Without even realizing it, while I’d been off the ice, the whole time I’d been waiting to score.

  The guys on the team still seemed kind of shocked at my resurrection. They’d seen me play before, but never like this. After Mona’s death I woke up. I creamed Mac once for her, another time for Jane, and gave him a bonus creaming for me, and then I played hard. I had points to make; I wasn’t kidding around anymore.

  Now, weeks later, the Huskies were in the playoffs. I’d helped to make it happen. Not single-handedly, but I was a force to be reckoned with.

  This was it. The playoffs. There were two minutes left in the second period, and we were behind 2-1. If we lost this game, that was it, we’d be eliminated. There was only one little problem with that. I wasn’t finished playing hockey! I wanted to win. I really was a hockey player. Deep inside.

  My skates dug into the ice, spraying slush as I flew across the surface, my breathing fast and urgent. Focusing on the puck, I ignored the opponent racing me. I hustled and saw Josh skate up from the right, beating me to the puck. He glanced over, and I imagined his goofy trademark smile. Then, like there was a magnetic force between our sticks, he passed the puck in a beautiful straight-on delivery. And it was right where it belonged, on the end of my stick. It was my puck now. I focused on the net, eyeing the goalie, and gauging in nanoseconds where to slap my little captive.

  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, another player skated at me, threatening my on-target shot. I heard my name being called, just as Mac skated in. Now, he was the one in the position to score. I took a quick glance at the goalie, then made my split-second decision. I chose to take a risk.

  Screw you, Mac, I thought.

  I fixed my eye on the speck between the goalie’s glove and the net, then slapped at the puck with all my might. I watched in slow-mo as it ripped apart molecules on its way. The goalie’s glove reached up, while his black Cooper skates rose off the ice. He lunged his bulky, padded body to try and block the puck’s trip towards the white threads of his net. For what seemed like forever I held my breath.

  Then the green light went off and the buzzer sounded. I lifted my stick in the air, hollering at the top of my lungs.

  In the background I heard the crowd going crazy, cheering, stomping their feet on the metal bleachers. The noise sounded like gunshots, and filled my ears like a beautiful song.

  “Yes!” I shouted, pumping my stick in the air with both hands. Score!

  I lowered my stick and took a quick look at the bleachers. Hailey jumped up and down in the front row, whacking on the glass with both hands. She’d taken the day off from the canteen, just so she could watch the action close up. Her face glowed, she looked beautiful. I searched the stands for Jane, who I spotted a few rows up. She was laughing, clapping, and there was no book in sight.

  My mom and aunt were in the front with Hailey, jumping up and down, hugging each other and waving to me on the ice. I smiled as I skated towards the bench, getting slaps on the back from my line-up and the guys coming to replace us. But the game wasn’t over—not yet.

  Before I reached the bench, Mac’s blades tore up behind me, spraying me with ice.

  “Hey. Chase. We’re a team, remember, asshole? I could have had that goal. I was clear.”

  I turned. “I don’t know, Mac. Your shots on goal average is pretty grim. Not such a problem with mine.” I said it low, so only he could hear me. Then I opened the door and hop
ped inside our team’s box.

  Coach Cal slapped the back of my helmet. “Good goal, Zack. We need a couple more like that.”

  I didn’t answer, but I couldn’t sit down yet. I leaned forward watching the play. The water boy, the coach’s son, handed me a water bottle.

  “Good play, Zack Attack,” he said, a little bit of hero worship in his voice.

  “Thanks, Blair,” I grinned at him, taking the water.

  “You’ve been on fire since you got back,” he added, eyes wide.

  A few players down, Mac cursed from his seat on the bench. He had a right to be bitter. While he’d been dealing with the police and accusations about what he’d done to the girls in town, especially the one who killed herself, I’d rallied the team and done everything a good captain should do. Except I wasn’t captain; Mac was. And he was a captain with problems.

  Fortunately for him, the police questioning led to nothing. Even with what I’d witnessed they couldn’t do much. It was my word against his. Mona wasn’t around to press charges, and nothing could be proved.

  I didn’t know if he ever found out I’d told the police what I’d witnessed. And I didn’t care if he found out. As it stood, I hadn’t heard anything from him or his dad. But I was sure there had to be a reason. There were rumors floating around the school about other girls he’d molested, and Mac was lying pretty low and keeping quiet. Still, he was a free man. I imagined that before long, he’d be back to his usual cocky, obnoxious attitude. I hoped he’d actually learned something, but somehow I doubted it. Not everyone learns from their mistakes.

  Blair waited reverently for me to finish my water, and then handed me a clean towel. The horn blew, signaling the end of the second period. As the team retired to the locker room, I hung back on the bench, waiting for everyone to leave. Mac was pacing the locker room by the time I got there.

  “We’re a team, loser. Try passing the puck once in a while,” he snapped at me, as soon as I walked in.

  “He’s doing a pretty good job of scoring goals, Mac. Which is more than anyone can say for you,” Josh yelled from the bench where he was slumped, trying to catch his breath.

 

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