by Kai Juniper
He laughs. "Of course not. He's just joking."
"What if they are? What if that guy knows something? Maybe Miles told him they're going to do something."
He eyes me. "Why are you so concerned about the Legion players?"
"I'm not. But I don't want the guys on our team beating up another team just so we win. Or what if they got arrested and couldn't play?"
"I think you're worrying far too much about this. Harris was just making a joke. He didn't mean anything by it." Brock looks back at his phone and sighs.
"What's wrong?"
"I haven't heard back from an audition. I was supposed to hear something by today."
"Is this for the show that shoots in Canada?"
"No, that one's out. They cast someone younger. This was for the movie Morgan is doing."
"She's the star of it, right? Can't she do something to make sure you get the role?"
"She could, but I doubt she will. She'd have to demand they give it to me and threaten to leave if they don't. I can't see her doing that, not when she's working her way to the top. When she's a bigger star, she can make those types of demands but she's not there yet."
"So you don't get the role. You'll get another one."
"It's not that easy. There aren't many roles for men my age. And when there are, they cast men who are ten years younger. I've been going on auditions all summer and haven't even been asked back." His jaw tightens. "I can't keep auditioning without getting a role. It's going to ruin my reputation."
"I'm sure something will come along soon," I tell him.
My phone dings with a text from Trystan. You're seriously sitting with my dad?
I look across the field and see Trystan looking back at me as he walks with his friends toward the student section.
I didn't want him to sit alone, I text back.
Yeah, right. You're just sucking up after getting in trouble.
Trystan and his friends take the row a few up from the field. There's at least ten of them, and I see more following behind. It must be the whole soccer team.
"Is that Trystan?" Brock asks, his eyes on his phone.
"He just got here. How'd you see him? You didn't even look up."
"I meant on your phone. I assumed that's who you were texting." He looks up, scanning the bleachers. "Where is he?"
"Over there." I nod in Trystan's direction, not wanting to point when everyone's watching. People have been staring at me since I got here. They probably think the principal forced me to sit here as punishment for hitting Kristen. "He's behind the cheerleaders."
Brock spots him, then does something on his phone and brings it to his ear.
"I want you home by midnight," he says.
I watch as Trystan stands up, his phone to his ear, staring in our direction.
"I don't care what your plans were," Brock says. "You spent all afternoon with them. And you're with them now. You don't need to be with them all night." Brock leans forward, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not arguing with you about this. I want you home by midnight or you lose the car." He listens. "You know why. Every year something happens after the first game. I'm not replacing another car because some stupid kids got out of control." He sits up, staring across the field at Trystan. "Your brother has to go out. He's part of the team." He straightens up even more, gripping his phone. "Enough! You keep talking and the car is gone. As in sold. Or I'll give it to Rumor. Then she'll be the one driving YOU around." He puts his phone down and shakes his head. "Some days I wish I never had children."
"Why? What'd he say?"
"That he hates me. Thinks I'm a terrible father."
"That's just something kids say. You can't take it seriously."
He turns to me. "Did you say that to your mother?"
"No. Never. But it was different for us. We were best friends."
He sighs. "I'm sorry."
I shrug. "Shit happens."
"Rumor, I—"
"I don't want to talk about it." I point to the field. "Look. The band's here. The players will be out soon. You think Braden's nervous?"
"He is, but he'll hide it. That's where his acting skills come in. He'd never act in a play or on TV, but he'll act in real life. It's why he's successful. He knows when to play a role and when to be himself."
"You mean he's a good liar."
"We all lie." Brock smirks, his eyes on the field. "Some of us are just better at it than others."
The band starts playing. They're not very good but it's probably hard to get a good band together in such a small school.
"I heard Twisted Pine lost two of their best players," I say casually.
"Two?" Brock asks. "I only know of one."
"Which one? The guy who went to Legion?"
"Yes." He looks at me. "The boy who lives down the street. Who was the other one?"
"The guy who died. They said he had a heart problem. I think his name was Jason."
Brock nods. "That's right. Braden and him didn't get along."
"They didn't? Why?"
"Braden wanted to lead the team but the coach picked Jason. Everyone said he was a better player but Braden disagreed. He said if he'd been given more time on the field, he could prove it. And eventually he did."
"Because Jason died. If he hadn't, Braden wouldn't be quarterback, right?"
"I suppose not, unless the other boy wasn't playing well. But from what I heard, he was very good. Colleges were keeping their eye on him."
"It's strange he just died like that. At 16? That's really young."
"It was probably a condition he'd had since childhood and it just wasn't diagnosed."
I pause. "Did they do an autopsy?"
Brock looks at me. "That's rather morbid. Why are you asking?"
"I just wondered. I watch a lot of crime shows. Sometimes the killer makes it look like the victim died of a medical condition when they really didn't."
"You're saying Jason was killed?" he says with a smile. "And what would be the motive?"
He thinks I'm kidding, which is good. I'm trying to be casual about this, like I'm just filling time before the game starts. I don't want Brock thinking I'm in any way serious, even though I am.
"I didn't know the guy so it's hard to say what the motive would be. I guess maybe if someone wanted to make sure he never played football again."
Brock laughs. "Oh, so now you think Braden killed him?"
"No!" I shove his arm like I'm just kidding around. "I'm just doing like those crime shows do and coming up with ideas of why someone would want him dead. In those shows, they'd have at least one of the football players be a suspect. And then probably the guy's girlfriend, and maybe someone from his past."
"Have you considered writing for TV?" He smiles. "You might have a future in it."
I look out at the field. "I was just trying to come up with something to talk about it." I pause. "So Jason and Braden weren't friends. But Braden was friends with Jackson?"
Brock's eyes are on me but I keep mine on the field. "You're good at remembering names. First Jason, then Jackson. Even I can't remember them and they both used to hang out at my house."
"They did?" I turn to him. "So Jason used to be friends with Braden?"
"When he first started at Twisted Pine. But you know how it is at your age. You're friends with someone one day and the next day you're not."
"Was it because of football? Is that why they weren't friends anymore? Because Braden didn't think Jason should be quarterback?"
"I'm sure that was part of it. I wasn't around much back then. I was filming a TV show in Atlanta. Didn't even air six episodes and they pulled it."
He can't stop talking about his acting career. He's completely self-centered. All he wants to do is talk about himself. Most parents could talk for hours about their kids but Brock can't even talk about them for a few minutes before bringing the conversation back to him.
"Maybe Jackson killed him," I say in a joking tone.
Brock sighs. "Nobody
killed Jason. He had a heart condition."
"But if he didn't, Jackson could be another suspect, right? I mean, if he'd stayed at Twisted Pine, he would've been competing with Jason to be the top player, unless he got rid of him."
"Jackson isn't a quarterback. He wouldn't have seen Jason as competition. If anything, he would've wanted Jason there to help the team win. He would've picked him over Braden."
"But Braden and Jackson were friends back then."
"Yes, but Jason was better on the field. Jackson wants to win for the team. Braden wants to win for himself. There's a difference."
"I heard something else last week." I pause, not sure if I should bring this up but as long as we're talking about murder, I might as well. "Something about Braden."
"What now?" Brock asks, sounding exasperated. Braden must get in trouble a lot.
"It's not anything recent. It happened last year, I think. Something about a girl falling over one of those plexiglass railings like you have at your house?"
Brock clears his throat. "The girl was drunk. She was being careless. The very idea that people would even think to accuse Braden sickens me." He lowers his voice. "Half of the people sitting behind us right now were bringing up Braden's name after it happened. And they wonder why I don't participate in parent activities. How would they feel if I accused their child of a violent crime?"
"Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I was just saying what I heard."
"Stop listening to it," he says, his jaw clenched. "If they bring it up, just walk away."
I nod and look back at the field as the announcer comes on.
"I think it's starting," I say.
Brock isn't paying attention. He's back on his phone.
The players run out on the field and the crowd, which isn't much of a crowd, gets up and cheers.
"There's Braden," I say, nudging Brock.
He glances up. "I need to go make a call."
"Right now? The game's about to start."
"Like Harris said, it'll be a dull game. I doubt the opposing team will even score." He gets up and goes past me. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
While he's gone, I check online to see how Legion's doing. The game started a few minutes ago but I can't find any scores.
"Hey!" Someone grabs my shoulder. I turn and see a girl stepping over the bleacher. It's a girl from my English class. I can't remember her name. She missed most of last week. She didn't show up until Friday.
"Hi." I quickly shut off my phone. I hope she didn't see me searching for Legion's score. If she did, I'll just tell her I'm checking it because I'm hoping they lose.
"Stuck in the parents' section?" She laughs as she sits beside me.
"I'm with my uncle," I say, wishing she'd go away. I can't get information from Brock with her sitting here, although I don't know what else I'd ask him. He's distracted tonight. He hasn't heard half of what I've said. I keep having to repeat myself.
"Your uncle is hot," she says, biting her lip.
"Are you serious?" I turn to her. "He's like fifty years old. Maybe not that old, but he's close."
She shrugs. "I like older men. I'd date him."
"You're too late. He has a girlfriend." I face the field. "So why are you in the parents' section?"
"Had to get my debit card from my mom. I left it in her car."
I'm guessing her account balance is bigger than mine. She drives a brand new Mercedes SUV and brings an expensive leather backpack to class. And she always wears large diamond stud earrings, which I'm sure are real. She has them on now, along with what looks like a cashmere sweater. It's pink with a deep v-shaped neckline that shows off her cleavage. Her jeans are torn but probably designer along with her black leather high-heeled boots.
She turns toward the field. "I totally want to fuck your cousin."
I look at her. "You just said you wanted Brock."
"Braden looks just like him. Dating him would be like dating his dad, only more appropriate. My parents wouldn't get on my case about it."
"Are you saying you've dated older guys before? Guys Brock's age?"
"Maybe," she says with a smile. "You don't know the story, do you?"
"What story?"
"Me and Principal Ballantine."
"You dated the principal? Is that why he got fired?"
"He wasn't fired. He left." Her eyes scan the field as Braden darts around a player before tossing the ball. "Is Braden seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of." I look at her. "Did you really date the principal?"
"Can't say. It was part of the deal."
"What deal?"
She leans back on her hands. "It's sad people don't talk about it anymore. Now it's all football and whether we're going to State." She sighs. "I'm so sick of that shit."
I'm starting to think this girl could be useful. She seems eager to talk about stuff she's not supposed to talk about it. I can tell she's desperate to tell me about whatever went on with her and the principal, which means she'd probably tell me about other stuff if I asked.
"I've heard a lot of stories since I got here," I say. "Not sure I believe them all."
"Like what?" she asks, her voice eager, leaning toward me.
I keep my eyes on the game. "Stuff about Braden's ex."
"About how he killed her?" she says nonchalantly. "That's old news."
"He didn't kill her."
"Someone did. She didn't just fall."
"How do you know?"
She doesn't answer, her eyes going to Brock as he returns to his seat.
He smiles at her. "Nice to see you again, Peyton."
Peyton. That's her name. I knew it was something that started with a P.
"Always a pleasure seeing you too, Brock." She winks at him and leans across me toward Brock. "Are you still with Marilyn?"
"No. I have someone new. I wanted someone younger."
"Who's Marilyn?" I ask. "Your ex-girlfriend?"
Brock and Peyton both laugh.
"Marilyn was my agent," he says. "She was Peyton's as well."
"You're an actor?" I ask her.
"Was." She flips her long strawberry blond hair. "I was one of those annoying child actors who made millions to look cute and say a few lines." She leans over even more, practically in my lap as she talks to Brock. "Let me guess. Gunner Thorpe?"
"Good guess. And yes. I've been with him for a year now. Unfortunately he hasn't gotten me any roles."
"Why don't we switch places?" I say, getting up.
Brock's phone rings. "I need to get this."
He takes off, which is good because I want Peyton to tell me more about what happened to Braden's ex. Everyone seems to know the story and yet Braden's the most popular guy at school. Since when are alleged killers popular? Maybe nobody believes he did it. I don't.
Braden wouldn't kill someone. He has a bad temper and gets jealous when other people have what he wants but that doesn't make him a killer. It does give him motive though. Motive to kill Andrea for ditching him for Jackson. And motive for killing Jason, who'd be the quarterback if he were still alive. But motive doesn't mean Braden did anything.
I really hope that's true.
Chapter Four
"Touchdown!" Peyton yells, jumping up from her seat. She turns back to me. "Let's go. We can't be seen sitting in the parents' section."
"I told Brock I'd sit with him."
"He doesn't care where you sit. He'll spend the whole game on his phone." She walks to the end of the bleachers. "C'mon."
"I'm staying here. After what happened today, I'm not sure I should sit over there."
She walks back to me, laughing. "That was so awesome. I would've done it myself if I could but I'm trying to stay out of trouble after what happened."
"With you and the principal?"
"That, and some other shit." She glances behind her, smiling and blowing a kiss.
"What are you doing?"
"Pretending to be the perfect daughter. My parents
eat that shit up. They think I'm an angel. They got Principal Ballantine fired because of what I told them." She smiles as she sits down beside me. "All those years of acting lessons paid off."
"Fired? You said he left."
"Because he had to. He didn't have a choice."
"You don't feel bad about getting the principal fired?"
"Why would I?" She pouts. "He took advantage of a young girl."
She IS a good actor. I actually believed her, but only for a second.
"Let's get out of here." She flips her hair as the wind blows her perfume my way. It's a strong flowery scent that makes me cough.
"Peyton, I told you, I'm staying here."
"You can't waste this. You have to build on the momentum."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your celebrity status. Hitting Kristen got you attention. Now you have to keep it by being in their faces. Flaunting it."
"I don't want to flaunt it. I didn't even mean to do it."
She turns me toward her and looks me in the eye. "Popularity lesson number one. Never admit your celeb status was an accident. Make them think it was intentional. We all want to be at the top but few people have the guts to do what it takes to get there."
"I don't want to be popular because I hit someone."
"And I didn't plan on my fame being because I went down on an older man to get my grades fixed. But it happened and I owned it. I let it take me to the top." She lowers her voice. "It doesn't matter if you fuck a teacher or punch the principal's daughter. They'll all get you to the top faster than driving the right car or wearing the right clothes. Those tactics are child's play. You're in the big leagues now where shock value wins over pretty designer clothes. That's why nobody respects Kristen. She's only popular because of who her dad is. She hasn't done anything to earn it."
"You're saying you have to punch someone or sleep with someone to be popular around here?"
Her shiny pink lips turn up. "I'm saying you do what it takes to get their attention. Then you do what it takes to keep it."
My phone dings and when I go to check it, Peyton grabs it from me.
"Give it to me," I say, trying to take it.
She holds it away from me. "Who's Burt?"
I jump up and grab the phone from her. "Don't fucking take my phone!"
