“You remember that tiny, little skirt she was wearing, don’t you, Zane?”
He’s glaring at her now, and she’s starting to cry again.
“She always wore panties when she was mine,” I add.
“Ryan, stop,” Tasha pleads. “We didn’t have sex.”
“Only because I said no. It didn’t feel right, and now I know why. My head was a total mess, but I guess some things are never completely forgotten.
“You played on the fact that I couldn’t remember you, Tasha. You must have realized I was better than him, or maybe you just wanted to burn your candle at both ends, again. But you led me to believe I was still your boyfriend. You kissed and touched me, and threw yourself at me like I was.
“Zane has always wanted everything I had and now he’s got it, cheating girlfriend and all.”
The veins in Zane’s neck are suddenly bulging and I suspect he’s just as upset at Tasha, as me, but I’m closest so I’m the one who’s going to pay. “You’re not better than me, Ryan,” he shouts. “You’re far from it. You’re nothing but a broken F–up. You’re a has-been who wants to play football again so badly that you go sit on the bench every day for practice and pretend it’s you out there. It’s not you, and it never will be again. You can sit out there until your ninety years old and nothing is going to change. You’re pathetic. You’re a F–ing waste of a human being and not only should you have killed yourself the right way, you should have done it years ago.”
That place on my lower lip where I had stitches after the locker room incident starts to tingle when Lucas doubles his fist and drives it forcefully into Zane’s mouth.
I watch him fall to the floor, holding his face and screaming about the pain, and then I look over at Luc in surprise.
He’s not shaking anymore – he’s standing strong and with confidence and it makes me grin at him.
“What the hell?” I ask with a laugh.
Luc shrugs. “He was talkin’ shit.”
“Nice.” I slap him on the back and can’t stop smiling – even when we’re both hauled down to the principal’s office and our parents are called.
TWENTY-NINE
Principal Winford is kind enough to give me and Luc the rest of the day off and a three day weekend, too. We don’t have to go back until Monday.
Mom leaves the school in her car, and after Dad loads me up front and Lucas in the back of his, and grounds us for life, I start to laugh.
“Dad, you should have seen Luc, he was awesome! Tagged that asshole right in the mouth. Dropped him with one hit!”
“That’s not funny, Ryan,” Dad looks from the road to me, sternly.
“Oh, it was great! No warning, no nothing, just BAM!” I punch the palm of my own hand.
“Ryan, that’s enough.”
“In front of most of the school, too! Holy shit, it couldn’t have been any better,” I hoot.
“Ryan, I’m warning you,” he says sharply.
“I’d have never thought he’d stick up for me like that, Dad, but he really had my back. He rocks!”
There’s a spark of surprise on Dad’s face and he moves his gaze from me to the rear view mirror. He finds Lucas, who has enough brains to sit back there and act like he’s sorry for his actions.
Dad’s eyes shift to the road, then me again before, in a quieter voice, he asks, “He stuck up for you?”
“Hell yeah. I’d be at the ER with Zane right now if he hadn’t, but I’d have more than a cut lip and loose teeth.”
Dad looks at Luc again, then back to me. “I thought Zane was a friend.”
“To who? He’s not a friend to Luc, and I’m not sure he ever was to me, either. He was in my face, pushing me and talking crap and Lucas took him out.”
Dad sighs, glances back at Luc again, and then says, “Maybe you’ll just be grounded for the weekend.”
“I don’t know – he hit him pretty hard, Dad.”
“Okay,” Dad cries out. “No grounding. But it better not happen again, and if it does, the two of you had better run like hell, because I’m sick and tired of coming to school. That thing you call a principal frightens me.”
I laugh. Dad shakes his head in self shame, and Lucas tries to hide a grin. He only makes it quarter of a block more before it blooms into a full-fledged smile.
“Just so you know, Ry,” he says. “You hit like a damn girl. What was the thing you swatted me in the neck with?”
“Shut up – I tried.”
“What exactly was your plan for that swing? Please don’t tell me it was designed to actually hurt something.”
I laugh again. “Okay, I’m not what I used to be, but you really kicked ass, Luc. You’re the best.” I stick my fist between the two front seats and he glances down at it, then back up at my face before he doubles his and bumps mine.
And after we arrive home, as we get out of the car to go into the house, I see Dad’s hand touch Luc’s shoulder blade in a pleased way.
I’m clock watching, and the closer it gets to three the more nervous I become. I pace my bedroom with my phone in my hand and when my leg starts to hurt I just keep going.
I didn’t get a chance to talk to Paige after the whole lunch room deal. A couple of teachers came rushing in to break things up, even though they were already over at that point, and I didn’t even get a good look at her to see if she was in the forgiving mood, before I was dragged by the scruff of my neck to the office.
Better than being scraped up off the floor like Zane was. The dude was still crying when his mommy came to give him a ride to the doctor. Some people are really good at giving but just do not know how to receive.
I’m worried, I guess, because Paige hasn’t sent a text asking what happened to me, if I’m okay, or anything of that nature. Not that I expected her to, but it would have been a good sign, if she had. Even if she’d sent me a two letter text – F U – I’d at least have some clue as to how she was feeling.
I wish I had a car, I’d go talk to her in person, but I don’t because I drove it off a cliff, so calling her is my only option. Well, there’s Mom, but I don’t dare ask her to take me over, she’s still fuming at me and Luc. She even told us we could starve tonight because she wasn’t cooking dinner for hoodlums. She doesn’t understand, and that’s okay.
We’ll just throw in a frozen pizza or something.
When the digital numbers of the clock on my night stand flash to 3-0-0, I press my phone between the palms of my hands and rub it like it’s a genie in a bottle. I close my eyes, make a wish and then blow on my fingertips because they’re cold.
I call Paige and it rings, and rings, and she doesn’t answer. I lower the phone from my ear and with a lump in my throat, I stare at it. I catch myself wondering if I dialed the correct numbers. I check twice, but Paige’s name is there both times.
Damn.
I release the breath I’ve been holding for longer than I realized, toss my phone on the bed and fall down next to it.
For a long while I lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering why I’m such a magnet for trouble – I could find it in my sleep – and then I hear a rustling sound outside my door.
There’s something that, if you use your imagination, could be considered a knock, before more scuffing noises and then the door is pushed open.
It’s Luc and his back is to me. “You’re not whacking it, are you?” he asks.
“You’re safe.”
He nods then backs his way into my room. He’s dragging a medium sized cardboard box with his right hand and his left arm is loaded with items. He arrives at my bed, stands up straight, and then turns to face me.
I look from the box to him and find a hint of fear in his eyes. He clears his throat and starts a speech that sounds like he’s been working hard to memorize.
“Ryan, you always took whatever you wanted of mine. You’d rip it right out of my hands, sometimes. It pissed me off. So, to get even, while you were in the hospital after the accident, I raided your
room and took all the things I wanted of yours.”
My eyes widen.
He pauses in his speech, swallows hard, then becomes more real. “I figured since you were starting to remember, I’d better get them back to you before you noticed they were gone and kill me.”
“You stole my stuff?” I drag myself up into a sitting position.
He nods discreetly and frees his left arm by releasing the items onto my bed.
I look from them, to him and back, before I lean forward to rummage through the items. Two music CDs. Several football magazines. A glass figurine of a bull dog. A twenty dollar bill. And a . . . I pick up the string of condoms and give him an inquisitive look. “Did you use any?”
He blushes and looks away. “No,” he all but whispers.
I draw in a deep breath and he steals a glance at me, trying to determine how upset I am.
“And the box is it full of this same kind of stuff?”
He nods. “Plus my gaming paddle, because you liked mine better than yours. You’ve had it long enough that it’s sorta yours anyway.”
“Hum.” I mutter. “Open the box.”
He does, and I pick up the CDs off of my bed and inspect them. “These guys suck,” I say and throw them in the box. “I don’t want these magazines. I don’t play ball.” I throw them in too. “And what the hell is this?” I pick up the bull dog. I remember exactly what it is. It’s a gift my grandma gave me about five years ago. It meant nothing much to me, but I kept it because Luc asked if he could have it.
I toss it gently in the open box then pick up the condoms again. “Never know when you might need one of these. Better safe than sorry, right?”
He shrugs and watches me fold them on their perforated edges, before holding them out to him. He’s rather slow about reaching for them, but he does, and when he has them in his hand I say. “The rest of that crap you can just take right back out of here. I’m keeping the twenty bucks, though, because I’m getting low on art paper.”
“Dad still hasn’t given yours back yet?”
“Nope.”
“So, you don’t want to see what’s in the box?”
“No. I don’t miss it. Must not have been important. You can have it.”
There’s a smile in his eyes, but it doesn’t make it to his mouth before he says, “I . . . well, there’s one more thing. I didn’t bring it down because . . .”
Suddenly I can’t help but laugh. “Because you really like it and didn’t want to risk me taking it back, right?”
He nods.
“Don’t even tell me what it is. It’s yours. I’m sorry I took your things, Luc. But more than that, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings by taking them.”
“It’s all good. I got even,” he says and glances at my leg.
“Hell yeah, you did.”
“I . . . I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have done it,” he says humbly. “Even as upset as I was, I shouldn’t have.”
“Well, you warned me. Told me to leave you alone several times. I was the idiot that didn’t listen. Just don’t do it again, please.”
He shakes his head, then looks around my room. “I miss this place.”
“Yeah. I’ll give it back to you as soon as I can.”
“Upstairs isn’t too bad. Kami can’t get in the window, but.”
“Holy shit!” I say with a burst of laughter. “No wonder you wanted to keep this room.”
Luc grins from ear to ear and we laugh together for a moment before he says, “Maybe Paige could use it.”
I glance at my phone and shrug. “I don’t know. I think I messed things up with her. Again. I like her a lot, but maybe I just need to learn how to be okay without a girl, for once in my life.”
“A girl? Is that all she is? I thought she was a friend.”
“She is, but . . .”
“You don’t have any of those left, Ry. Probably ought to try keeping the new ones you’re making.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.”
“Hum. Well, drag your damn box out of here, then, so I can try calling her again.”
Luc smiles, nods and does as ordered. When he reaches the door he pauses and looks back at me. “If she won’t take you back, let me know. I’m in good with her.”
“Shut up,” I chuckle. He laughs, and then pulls my door closed.
I breathe in deeply, glance at the clock that now reads 3:34, and pick up my phone. I gather my courage, then call her number.
It rings, and rings, and, again, she doesn’t answer.
It hurts, even though I try to tell myself it doesn’t. I lie back down, tuck the phone under my pillow, roll over onto my side away from it, and close my eyes.
It’s after five when I wake. There’s a faded, muffled sound below my head and it takes me a moment to figure out that it’s my phone. I snatch it out from under the pillow and squint at the screen. It reads: incoming call: Paige. Missed calls: (2)
I connect and hurriedly say, “Hello.”
“Ryan.”
“Paige.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“I called twice – you didn’t answer your phone.”
“Neither did you,” I say.
“Yeah, thanks to Mr. Gale. I was trying to send you a text in art and he caught me and took my phone away. Said I had to have my mom come in after school and talk to him before I could have it back. That took forever, because she was at work.”
“That sucks.” I smile – glad to know she wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder. “I guess I slept through mine. Sorry.”
“Heard you got suspended until Monday.”
“Word travels fast around there, doesn’t it?”
“When it involves you, it does.”
“Yeah. Mrs. Winford hates me.”
Paige giggles. “Stop picking fights in the school lunch room and maybe she’ll change her mind about you.”
“Never. She’s hated me since freshman year. But she’s misinformed if she somehow thought that cafeteria thing was my fault.”
“Was it?” Paige asks and the teasing that was evident in her voice a moment ago is gone. “Did you kiss Tasha again?”
“No, Paige, I didn’t. I wasn’t just saying that to keep Zane from kicking my ass, and I’m not just saying it to keep myself out of trouble with you, either. I really didn’t kiss her. But can I tell you how close I came and why?”
“Please.”
I like that she’s willing to listen. Willing to hear me out and then judge me based on information and fact. It makes me feel better already.
I lay it all out there. I tell her everything. How it all felt. How hard it was to resist. How many times I thought of her while it was happening. How agonizing it was to walk away. How much I really loved Tasha, and I tell her the events of the night I tried to kill myself.
And when I’m finished, Paige is silent.
“I don’t ever want her back, Paige,” I say gently and honestly. “And now that I remember what happened, she’ll never touch me, trick me, or trap me, again. I guarantee it.”
“But do you still love her?” she asks softly.
“I did until I saw the scar on his wrist. Which he got from broken glass when we were rope swinging at the lake a few years ago. It was in the mud and he didn’t know. He came out of the water bleeding like crazy and we were so far away from help that I . . .” It’s worthless information to her, so I stop telling the story short of how scared I was, and get back to business.
“No. I have no feelings for her at all. I can now remember a million things I did with her, but none of them make me love her again. I can’t say that I hate her, though. It’s more like she’s just a nobody to me. Like I know her, but have no past with her.
“I hope that makes some type of sense to you, Paige, because I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“You’ve explained it well enough for me. So, did you get grounded?”
“For t
he rest of my life, but I somehow managed to talk him out of it.”
She laughs. “Are you free to go out tomorrow night?”
“I have no car and only twenty bucks, but I’m as free as can be.”
“DeAnn has a date, and wants us to double with her. He can drive.”
“Who’s he?”
“Donald Thomas.”
“Ducky?” I say with a laugh, simply because I remember him and his nickname. “He hates football, so yeah, I’ll go.”
Paige giggles. “Okay, well I’d say, see you tomorrow, then, but I want to see you tonight. Can I come over?”
I glance at the bedroom window, suppress my laughter and say, “Yeah. Come on over. I’ll meet you at the front door.”
Dad works late, so he doesn’t even know she came, and I don’t care if he finds out. Jake comes over, too. Luc cooks that frozen pizza, then they help me downstairs, and the four of us hang out, eating, laughing and talking.
I tell Luc he needs to invite Kami next time, and with a smile he says, “Maybe.”
THIRTY
Zane keeps his big mouth shut, and his hands to himself, on Monday. Tasha must take a different route, because I see her from a distance but we never cross paths, and people are still looking at Luc and whispering, but this time with more respect.
It’s a happy day. At least until I spot Luc under the bleachers, after school, secretly watching the team.
I limp my way out to him and lean against one of the beams that are holding up the structure.
“Why don’t you go play?” I asks him.
“Na,” he says quietly and toes some pebbles on the ground.
“Why not?”
“Nothing left of the season.”
“Couple games. But you know Coach – he likes to keep the guys as intact as possible and finds plenty of things for them to do the rest of the year. Being on the team is more than just the play season. At least it was for me. And even though I don’t like football, I have to admit, it’s really helpful. Keeps ya in top shape.”
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