Fed chuckled and shook his head.
“Let’s trade brothers, and you won’t have to worry about competing with anyone to get all the pretty girls,” I said.
“Sorry. No deal,” he said. “Avery maybe. But Parker? No way. And Parker has actually dated quite a few pretty girls.”
“Yeah, I know. They must be blind. And deaf.”
I shaded my face so I could block out any sight of Parker and his whistling rendition of what was most likely Amazing Grace, his new favorite.
“Fed, you’re the smartest guy I know,” I said. “Girls are going to line up to go out with you when you get older. You know how much I love Nicholas, but don’t be like him. Pick a girl that attracts you because she’s interesting, and can keep up with your intelligence so you can have a meaningful conversation. Pick someone because she loves you on your good days and bad ones too.”
Fed shrugged. “Thanks,” he said in a quiet voice. “It’s a lot easier to talk to you about this kind of stuff than Avery.”
“Avery talks?”
Fed laughed. “Do you think she’ll have fun?” His thin upper lip quivered.
“Of course she will.”
“Thanks. Really.”
“Just be yourself.” I patted his back. “You’ll be perfect.”
“So you and Forrest, huh?” He gave me a sly smile. “I caught you kissing him this morning.”
I leaned in, hoping no one heard what he’d just said. I still wasn’t ready for it to be public, despite my PDA earlier, which was not as stealthy as I had thought. “For the record, he kissed me,” I whispered. “Is this going to be awkward for everyone?”
“Why? You guys are always together anyway.” Fed shrugged a shoulder. “Do you have any idea how long he’s been in love with you? ’Cause it’s been a long time. Man, that party at your house, he was boo-hooing about Mumps so much I finally made myself go ask Ashley to the dance so I could get away from him.”
The last bell rang. I flinched. I hated how skittish I had become over the last month or so since this all started. I pulled my backpack from the floor.
“Here,” Fed said and stuck out his hand, “I can carry that for you.”
“I got it,” I said. “I hate when you guys treat me like I’m weak just because I’m a girl. It’s not like you’d offer that to Nicholas if he’d been the one in the accident.” I steeled my nerves and started for the door.
“I wouldn’t offer that to Nicholas because he picks on me all the time. But fine. I’ll ignore all of those stitches on your arm and the big bruise on your neck. Let’s go.” He let his hand fall to his side and followed after me. At the locker rooms, he said, “See ya later,” heading toward the guys’.
“See ya.”
The path to the soccer field was lined with trees. The uneasiness of being alone sent my mind to unhealthy places. I made my way, taking time to scout the dark shadows cast by the large branches ahead. The metal benches sent a chill through me when I finally got there. Fall weather in Utah was so unpredictable that way. I zipped up my sweatshirt but still shivered whenever the wind hit my face.
Even though I couldn’t play, Coach had still wanted me to watch my own team practice, but Dad refused, and that was that. Dad thought I would be safer if I was in a place where my brothers could see me, and because he didn’t want me driving myself home because I would be alone for the drive and alone when I got home, I was forced to endure ninety minutes of a practice that wasn’t even mine. It’s not that I didn’t understand. But it was cold, especially when I wasn’t running around, working up a sweat.
The team began their warm-up drills. I watched Forrest differently than I had before, noticing the way the muscles in his legs flexed as he ran, the concentration on his face when he took a shot on goal. He’d glance up every now and then with a knowing smile that something had changed between us. It would have been easy to keep my attention on him the whole time, but I knew I should try to be more productive. I took a copy of The Great Gatsby out of my backpack to get some reading done for my English class.
I had been reading for over an hour when the reddish-orange haze of sunset seeped into the sky, and the temperature dropped as the sun fell. I huddled tighter, exposed and vulnerable. I brushed away my sleeve to look at my watch. Fifteen minutes and we would be able to go home.
I put away my book and glanced around until I found Forrest standing at the corner nearest to me. He kicked the ball in a perfect arc in front of the goal, and Nicholas headed it into the net. Across the field, something scurried in the aspens. I snapped my head to the shadowed spot. I could have sworn I saw binoculars pointed my direction. What little bit of body heat remained left me. Before I could get a better look at whatever it was, it was gone. I stared in the same spot with laser-focused eyes, but only trees glowered back.
Wind swooped through, sending the colored leaves sputtering. Maybe my imagination had gotten the best of me—something that happened a lot lately. But still . . .
Clank.
I almost fell off the bleacher at the sudden sound. I hadn’t noticed Forrest coming up to the bleachers. On the bench in front of me was a soccer bag he had thrown. He hiked up the metal stairs and sat next to me.
“Sorry,” he said. With graceful movements, he took off his cleats and put on another pair of shoes.
“I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention.” Breath clouds spiraled in the cold air as I spoke. “It’s freezing.”
“Here.” He clutched my hands between his.
My skin felt cold and numb against his palms. He rubbed back and forth to create some warmth with the friction, and my circulation began to return.
“Thanks,” I said. With all the guys arriving now, I felt like my whole body could relax.
“Anything else need warming up?” Nicholas asked.
“You’re sick,” Forrest told him. He picked up his cleats and threw them in his bag.
“Aw, he’s just jealous,” Nicholas said to me.
Forrest scowled at him. “Of what?”
“One, that she’d pick me over you any day,” Nicholas said to Forrest. He turned and spoke to me now. “And two, that you have a better-looking date for the Halloween dance than he does.” He squeezed my shoulder.
“Not true,” Forrest said. “I’m taking your mother.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
Nicholas delivered a playful but hard punch to Forrest’s shoulder.
“Actually,” Parker said, stuffing his soccer ball into his bag, “Your mom is hotter than Phil,” he said to Nicholas.
“Wait, who said I’m going with Phil?” I asked, lost. I knew who my date to the Halloween dance was, even if they didn’t.
Parker glanced at Nicholas, who only shrugged.
“For the millionth time, I don’t even know who Phil is,” I said.
Forrest put his hand over mine. “She’s going with me,” he said, “so it’s kind of hard for her date to be better looking than me.”
Nicholas shared a surprised expression with Parker.
“What happened?” I heard Parker whisper to Nicholas.
“I don’t know. Phil said he would ask her,” Nicholas whispered back, and then he noticed I was glaring at both of them. “Well, cool.” He stood straighter. “Wait. So are you guys like . . .”
“Yes.” I took a deep breath, squeezed Forrest’s hand, and prepared myself for their reactions.
Nicholas and Parker both smiled. “It’s about damn time,” Nicholas mumbled.
“Amen, brother,” Parker said. “Claire and Avery got all the slow genes.”
Except for a light wind that fluttered the leaves, the area was still.
Nicholas shoved Forrest, and then Parker got involved as we climbed down the bleachers. They all pushed each other back and forth until we got to the car.
I swept my eyes across the parking lot, checking for anything out of the ordinary before I got in.
WHEN I GOT home from practice, Dad called for me. My hands
and feet were still frozen, so I grabbed a blanket off the couch in the family room before I made my way into his office. His face was hidden behind a magazine when I walked in. I didn’t know why he had called me to his office, but past experience said it wasn’t for something good.
He closed the magazine and set it in front of him on the desk. “How was your first day back?”
Dad was dressed in a black golf shirt and khakis, and it seemed weird to see him not in a suit. I closed the door behind me and sat in front of him. His face warmed. “How are you holding up, princess?”
“I’ve been better,” I said. “Am I in trouble?”
He chuckled. “No. I was told I should ask you about the Halloween dance.”
I shifted, then shifted again, but couldn’t get comfortable. Forrest and I hadn’t even coordinated costumes yet. “Told by whom?”
“Nicholas.” Dad’s eyebrows weren’t knitted together, so I knew Nicholas had only told Dad about the dance, not Forrest.
Why did Nicholas think it was so important for Dad to know everything? I hadn’t even been home five minutes. Had Nicholas called him? Texted him? Sure, I would have told Dad eventually. Once I had graduated from high school. And moved far away.
“Yeah, uh, I’m going to the Halloween dance.” I held my breath and hoped it wasn’t too much to ask that he leave it at that.
Dad stood up and walked around his desk. He seated himself in the chair next to me and patted my hand. “I was hoping you would.” He added, “That way we can all be there as a family. Mom and I will be there as parent chaperones.”
They were going to be there. It would have been nice if they’d mentioned this earlier.
“What are you guys dressing up as?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Your mom picked out something for us. So who’s taking you?”
My stomach bunched in knots. Why didn’t Nicholas tell Dad about Forrest when he had the chance? Maybe Nicholas thought he was doing Forrest a favor. If I told Dad voluntarily, it wouldn’t look like I’d been hiding anything from him, and he might handle the news better than if he found out when he got there.
I took a deep breath, and my heart beat faster. I tried not to cringe in anticipation of Dad’s reaction. “I was planning to go to with Forrest.” The sentence came out all in a rush. I held my breath.
Dad’s face was still wrinkle-free. “That’s great.”
“Okay.” I exhaled. I don’t think he understood me, and I wanted to get it over with. “But what I’m saying is Forrest and I are going to the dance because we’re . . . together together.”
The color drained from Dad’s face. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t go.”
I rotated my body in his direction and leaned against my armrest. “Dad, you like Forrest.”
He stood up and walked behind the chair. “I don’t like him very much anymore.” He pursed his lips. “I always knew he was untrustworthy, and—and you’re too young to date.”
I threw my hands in the air. “I’m almost seventeen. You’re being ridiculous,” I said. “I’ve gone to other dances before with guys who make Forrest look like a saint, but now I’m not old enough? How old do you expect me to be?”
He crossed his arms. “Thirty.” His expression was deadly serious.
I stood now and took a step closer to him. “It’s Forrest,” I said again. “Are you saying there’s someone else out there you’d rather I be with?”
He supported his weight on the chair’s back. “No one’s good enough for my daughter.”
“Dad,” I said, exasperated. “You spend your life doing stressful business deals, and this is what gets you all flustered?”
He let go of the chair next to me and went behind his desk to sit down. “Just remember I’ll be a chaperone, so no funny business,” he mumbled.
THE DAYS FOLLOWING my confession were tense. On top of worrying about everything I had already been worried about, I had to add Dad’s feelings about my social life into the mix. I made sure Forrest and I did our homework at the kitchen table in the open once we got home. When we weren’t doing homework, I made sure one of my brothers or the Russo boys was with us. If I hadn’t told Dad, he wouldn’t have even known Forrest and I were together. But by the end of the week, Dad still stiffened every time Forrest came near me.
In order to reduce the number of things Dad could complain about on the day of the dance, I woke up early Saturday morning and backed the cars into the driveway, then waited for him in the garage, setting the mat on the ground. The doctor had upgraded the level of activity I could be involved in, but still suggested I stay away from anything that would involve contact with my head. The bruises were barely visible, I was off pain meds, and the stitches were long gone. All in all, I felt back to my normal physical strength.
Dad’s face was frozen in the same strained expression I had seen all week. He was worried about a reinjury but felt it was more important to train in light of recent events. The new level of training wouldn’t keep me physically fit, but he said it would help keep my mind sharp. Since he’d altered the training, my brothers got to sleep in, and I’d be training alone for the next few weeks.
He began the same way he did every time we trained. “What are the parts of the body where you can do the most damage?” he asked.
“Eyes, nose, ears, neck, groin, knee, and legs,” I said.
“What parts of the body are most effective for inflicting damage?”
“Elbows, knees, and head.”
“What’s the first thing you do if you’re attacked?” he asked.
“Yell,” I said.
“Good. Let’s work on being grabbed from behind. And remember, a lot of times the attacker can be someone you know, like a boyfriend, or a neighbor, or a date, or a boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad.”
“I’m quoting statistics,” he said. “You’d be surprised how many women are assaulted by their boyfriends.”
He grabbed me from behind and held me in what would have been a bear hug if he weren’t being careful to avoid my head. I dropped my weight and stomped on his foot, going through the motions slowly. We continued with variations on the same thing, in which I elbowed him in the head or twisted out of his grip and poked him in the eye. Moving at a snail’s pace made everything take twice as long.
Normally that would have been the end of our session, but Dad worked with me more than usual. He held my wrists and made me describe what I would do to leverage his weight off of myself. After that I practiced striking him under the nose with the heel of my palm, throwing my weight into the move. Next I hit him on the side of the neck with a knifehand strike. I held my hand flat, keeping my fingers together tightly, my thumb slightly bent at the knuckle and tucked under, landing blows where the jugular vein and carotid artery were located.
We moved into wrist holds and finally choke holds. Dad placed his hands around my neck, and a scene flashed in my head almost like I was watching a movie. I remembered asking my dad where he had been, and he had said he had done business with the Copper Cactus in Phoenix. It was only a snippet, and then nothing else despite my efforts to fill in more holes in my memory. By the time we finished, I was exhausted. Nothing we’d done had gotten my heart racing, but all the slow movements made me feel like I’d been practicing Tai Chi for an hour and a half.
I dragged myself into the kitchen and plunked myself on a barstool. Even though it was late enough that most families were about to eat lunch, Mom was in the middle of making breakfast. She set a cutting board in front of me and sliced tomatoes.
“Your husband is unbearable sometimes,” I said.
“He cares about you, that’s all,” she said.
“So I guess he told you about me and Forrest?”
Mom stopped cutting and looked like I’d insulted her. “I’m your mother. I know everything.”
If I believed that, I would have stopped picking locks a long time ago. I plucked a diced tomato off the cutting boa
rd and popped it into my mouth.
She slapped my hand. “Go wake up the others, please.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Nicholas and Forrest were asleep on the two faux-suede couches of the family room, and Fed was rolled up in a blanket on the floor in front of the TV. But Nicholas was the only one brave and/or stupid enough to get my brothers out of bed on a weekend, so I woke him up first, kicking the couch. “Morning, cupcake.”
His dark brown hair ruffled in every direction, and he still wore the same white T-shirt from yesterday, Ravens emblazed across the front.
“Morning, squirt.” He groaned and stretched, then hiked up the waistband of his navy basketball shorts. Without prompting, he automatically said, “I’ll go get your brothers.” He nudged Fed with his foot as he passed.
Fed rolled over and got to his feet. He walked to the couch Nicholas had left vacant, dropped onto it, and fell back asleep.
Forrest looked comfortable, so I decided I’d let him sleep a little longer. I wandered back into the kitchen and sat on a barstool across from Mom. It was just before noon, and the sun was high in the clear sky, promising warmth. But I knew Utah well enough to know looks can be deceiving. If I stepped outside, the cold air was waiting to bite me.
Nicholas staggered into the kitchen with my brothers behind him, groggy and grumpy. Parker dropped his head at the kitchen table and fell back asleep. Avery’s hair looked like it could benefit from a shower, but he slapped on a bandana and tied the ends behind his head. He stretched his arms, released a big yawn, and opened the refrigerator door. “Morning, Mom.” He poured himself a glass of milk.
I lowered my voice in a poor attempt to sound like Avery. “Good morning, Claire. Did you sleep well?” I resumed my regular voice. “Good morning, yourself. Yes, I did sleep well. Thank you for asking.”
“Whatever. You’re so lame.” Avery shook his head and took a seat at the kitchen table next to Parker.
Nicholas situated himself on the barstool next to me and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “So what time are we leaving for the Halloween dance tonight?” he asked.
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