The Handoff (Big Play #3)

by Jordan Ford

  Roxy doesn’t reply right away. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her biting her lips together, then flicking a lock of hair off her face with a deft finger move that she’s been perfecting for years. “Okay, so maybe I should have taken better care of you at that party. When you started ranting, I could have pulled you off that table or something.” Her fingers curl around my forearm. “I promise I won’t ditch you at a party again. Just make sure you don’t take off without telling me. It’s nearly impossible to find you at those things sometimes.”

  Her words warm me and I face her with a grateful smile. Holding out my pinky finger, I give her a serious look and say, “Deal.”

  She wraps her little finger around mine and we both start grinning as we make our little pact.

  “And if you want, I’ll help you track down the culprit.” Roxy’s blue eyes are bright with kindness. “If that’ll make you feel better.”

  I slap my locker closed with a sigh, hitching my bag onto my shoulder and making my way to homeroom. Roxy steps in time with me and we strut down the hall, collecting our customary round of morning stares. As per usual, we pretend to ignore them and keep chatting.

  “I don’t know if finding this asshole will achieve anything. I’m scared if Mack knows, he’ll completely freak. Finding out who did it isn’t going to change anything. It won’t bring Kaija back, and I seriously think that’s the only thing that will make him feel better. I probably just want to know so I don’t feel so bad about starting the whole thing.”

  Roxy’s arm comes around my shoulders. “Just because you opened your mouth didn’t give that person the right to do what they did. You need to stop feeling bad.”

  “How can I? I’ve ruined my brother’s life.”

  “Mack will get over it eventually.” Roxy gives me one last squeeze before dropping her arm. “It’ll be okay.”

  I hope she’s right. I really want her to be.

  Man, I’ve got to get my shit together. Although Roxy promised to look out for me at parties, I need to start looking out for myself too. I’ve got to stop drinking. My obsession with avoiding feeling anything more than oblivion has ended up ruining Mack’s life. He’s the only person on this planet who truly cares about me, and I’ve hurt him. It needs to stop.

  I need to stop.

  I’m just not sure if I can.

  #6:

  See-Through

  Finn

  We don’t usually go to Briggs’ Burgerhouse on a Wednesday afternoon, but when Tori got a last-minute call to cover a waitressing shift, we were all standing around and rather than making her go on her own, we decided to tag along.

  So here we are, about to order monster burgers at four o’clock in the afternoon. Tyler’s sitting next to me, spinning yet another yarn about making out with some hot chick in the back of the library during study hall. He doesn’t even know her name, which to me makes the whole story highly suspicious.

  I glance across the table and note Layla’s eye roll. I cover my smile with my hand and look away from her. She was dragged here by Mack, who wanted to come. He told her she could get a ride home with Roxy, but in the end she huffed and said she’d just come along.

  I found it really weird that she didn’t want to go and hang with her girls like she usually does…until Colt reminded me on the way over that it’s Bob Mahoney’s birthday. Layla’s always jittery around any kind of anniversary to do with her father. He died five years ago, but I know Mack’s wounds can still be pretty fresh and raw sometimes. The comments he occasionally makes about Layla have me wondering how tender hers still are. He usually uses their dad’s death as an excuse for her behavior. It makes me think I’m a little hard on her sometimes.

  I bite the edge of my lip and look at her again. She’s the only girl at our table. I doubt that fact bothers her. She’s used to being surrounded by guys. Seriously, at parties, it’s insane. She’s like one of those insect lights that draw all the moths and mosquitoes.

  The analogy makes me shake my head. Thankfully, all eyes are on Tyler, so they don’t ask me what I’m thinking. I’m not denying that Layla losing her father at the age of twelve must have been really tough, but how is sleeping with a bunch of losers helping?

  Mack stretches his arm across the back of the booth seat. He’s been slightly more relaxed since giving his big speech, but he still looks sad. He admitted that life at home’s been really hard since quitting football. His mom hasn’t taken the news too well.

  He clenches his jaw, his eyebrows dipping low as Tyler wraps up his story.

  “So, I told her, ‘Anytime, baby. The love machine is at your service.’” Tyler’s eyebrows wiggle up and down while Layla lets out a derisive snort.

  The sound makes Colt and Mack snicker. Tyler throws her a dry glare and I decide to remain impartial. Yeah, Tyler can act like a douche, but he’s still my friend and he needs at least one ally at the table.

  Mack picks up his menu and mumbles to his sister, “You getting anything?”

  “I’m not really hungry.” She shrugs. “I might just have a couple of your fries.”

  “I’m going for potato skins today.”

  “You can have a couple of my fries.” Tyler gives her a sexy smirk.

  Her deadpan glare makes me grin. I smack Tyler’s chest with the back of my hand. “Seriously, dude, enough already.”

  Tyler winks at Layla, who stares at him and slowly raises her middle finger.

  Slapping his hand against his heart, Tyler tips his head back and moans. “I think I’m in love.”

  Layla’s lips wrestle with a grin, her nose wrinkling as she fights the smile. Eventually, she loses, slapping the table and grumbling, “You’re an idiot, Ty.” Her words would have much more impact if she wasn’t laughing as she said them.

  Mack smiles and nudges her with his elbow. He then murmurs something that makes her crack up laughing. It’s actually quite a nice sound.

  Colt raises his eyebrows, wanting to know what Mack said, but he doesn’t have a chance to find out because Tori skips over to the table.

  As per usual, Colt’s attention swings entirely to his petite girlfriend. She’s dancing on her toes and looking ready to burst.

  “You come to take our order, baby?”

  “In just a sec.” She’s hopping around like she needs a pee break or something. “First, I need to show you this.” She slaps an envelope onto the table. “Mom just popped by with some mail.”

  Colt picks up the envelope, his eyes rounding as he reads the return address in the top left corner. Flipping it open, he wrestles the letter free and slowly skims it.

  “Yes!” He jumps out of the booth seat and pulls Tori into his arms. With a little giggle, she jumps off the ground and wraps her legs around his waist.

  And the rest of the world ceases to exist.

  They start playing Tongue Twister in their own little love bubble while the rest of us look on in confusion. Clearing my throat, I reach for the letter and see it’s from Boise State University.

  Dear Miss Lomax,

  Congratulations….

  A broad smile stretches across my face. “She got in.”

  I toss the letter across the table and sit back as Layla, Mack, and Tyler all lean over to read it for themselves. Layla’s big eyes flick from the page to the ecstatic couple. Her expression flashes with what I think is wistful longing, but that can’t be right. Layla’s not about serious relationships; all she likes to do is fool around and keep it casual. At least, according to what I’ve seen and heard.

  I snap my gaze away from her and note Mack’s sinking expression. He’s happy for his friends, I know that much about him, but he can’t show it. It’s damn obvious that the only person he’s thinking about right now is Kaija.

  Turning to his sister with a pained smile, he murmurs, “I’ve got to go get my girl.”

  Layla nods, her smile short and fleeting. As soon as Mack turns away to look at the letter again, her expression drops. Her skin pales to a t
ranslucent white that makes her nearly see-through. For the first time ever, I catch a glimpse of something I’ve never seen before—sheer dread. It flashes across her face, stark and obvious, before she sniffs and pulls her shoulders back.

  Catching my gaze, she gives me a pointed look before tossing her hair behind her shoulder and glancing away from the table. Her eyes skim over Colt and Tori, who are still making out, and this time I’m pretty sure the look of longing I saw before may have just been genuine.

  #7:

  A Chilling Sensation

  Layla

  I can’t believe I’m jealous of Tori Lomax.

  Yes, jealous!

  It’s insane. She’s a quirky, clumsy little pixie girl who dresses in multicolored nightmares and brings homemade satchels to school. Her mom makes soap for a living!

  Okay, yes, she’s dating one of the hottest guys in school, but that’s no reason to make me jealous. I can get any guy I want!

  I just hated the way Colt reacted to her acceptance letter. He plucked her off the ground and held her like she was everything…and then Mack goes and makes it a million times worse by telling me he’s got to go and get his girl.

  Seriously?

  What is wrong with everybody?

  And why can’t a guy ever act that way towards me?

  I shoulder my way into the party. Roxy’s to my right and Michelle’s covering my left. We look freaking hot tonight, having spent nearly two hours getting ready at Roxy’s place. The music blasted from her stereo while we danced, preened, and tried on a million different outfits.

  In the end, we all settled for similar-looking dresses. As predicted, the party is so crammed full of people it’s hot enough to ditch our jackets and show the dresses off. Mine is scarlet red with narrow straps. It dips so low at the front I can’t wear a bra, and it’s made out of a Lycra blend so it’s easy to slip on and off.

  Not that I’m planning on taking it off tonight.

  I look around the crowded living room and note the swarm of bodies. Roxy’s cousin always throws the best parties. The space is dotted with hot college guys and some pretty fine eye candy from both Nelson and Brownridge High. I recognize a few faces and share a sexy smile with a guy I’m sure I’ve made out with before.

  This night should be good.

  I guess I’m a little nervous about what I might get up to, but Roxy promised to look after me. I just want to relax and have a good time. Life has been way too stressful lately. None of my brother’s friends have shown up tonight, so I can have some fun without worrying about them telling Officer Mack what I get up to. It’s time to let loose, dance, and maybe make out with a hot guy or two. I’ve promised myself that’s all I’m allowed to do.

  I’m about to snatch Roxy’s arm and remind her of this when my gut plummets down to my open-toed five-inch heels.

  Shit. Derek Wiseman’s here.

  His smarmy face and irritating smile is enough to make my skin crawl. I watch as he saunters in from the back patio area, giving a couple of high-fives to his buddies before turning my way. It’s impossible to hide my disgust—not that I’d ever try. I don’t care if he knows how much I hate him.

  Unperturbed by my glare, he gives me his irritating smirk then waves across the room at me. My entire body tenses and I grab Roxy’s arm and spin away from him.

  “We’re leaving,” I snap.

  “What?” Michelle whines behind me. “We only just got here, and there is a seriously hot guy over there who’s been smiling at me.”

  “Then go make out with him. I’m leaving.”

  “Oh, great.” Michelle rolls her eyes. “Layla’s in a mood.”

  I scowl at her pouty expression while Roxy steps up and runs a soothing hand down my arm. “Why do you want to leave?”

  “Derek’s here.”

  “Your stepbrother?” Roxy frowns and looks over her shoulder. “Which one is he again?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just want to get out of here.”

  Roxy hitches her bag up on her shoulder. She brought her bigger purse tonight so she could smuggle some beers out past her father. I wonder what else she has in there. She’s always one of those be prepared for anything people.

  “Look, we’re not going to let that asshole dictate our night. This house is big enough for both of you. We’ll just keep an eye out and move when we see him coming.”

  Michelle bobs her head in agreement, her blonde hair bouncing around her round face. “Yeah, let’s just get drunk and make out with some hot guys.”

  Roxy laughs and pulls a bottle of Corona out of her bag. “Exactly.”

  Michelle takes hers plus the bottle opener. Uncapping it like a pro, she giggles and sucks up the froth that flows from the neck.

  Roxy holds out a bottle to me, but I shake my head. “No, I shouldn’t be drinking again.” I give her a pained look that tells her what I’m thinking. I’m so not after a repeat of the New Year’s Eve party. Although I don’t have any little gold nuggets of information to blab, I could still do something stupid.

  “One drink’s not going to hurt you.” Roxy waggles the bottle. “We made a pinky promise. I’m not going to let you do anything dumb. Trust me.”

  Lacking the energy or willpower for a fight, I snatch the bottle and hold it up so Michelle can uncap it for me. Soon we’re standing in a tight little circle and clinking our beer bottles together.

  “To a night of dancing and hot guys.” Roxy smiles.

  With a reluctant grin, I press the bottle to my lips and take a sip. I guess being here and having some fun is a million times better than hanging out with loved-up couples. At least while I’m here, I can pretend for a few moments that a guy actually cares about me. When his arms are wrapped around my waist and his tongue is doing hot things to my body, it’s easy enough to imagine that I’m making out with The One. You know, the knight in shining armor who’s going to pick me up and carry me off into the sunset, promising to protect me and hold me for the rest of his life?

  My mind flashes with an image of my father and the way he used to carry me around, looking after me, holding me close when I was sad. Even when he was going through chemo and wasting away, he’d still let me sit on his lap. He’d tell me a story or sing me some silly song that would make me laugh.

  I miss him. I miss his strength, his security. I miss the person I was when he was around.

  My eyes smart and I counter the burning sting with another swig of beer. I don’t want those memories; they hurt too much. I just need to forget…to play pretend…and to trust that Roxy will keep an eye on me and stop me from doing anything I might regret in the morning.

  *****

  I groan and roll over, nearly slipping off the mattress and landing on the floor. My bedding makes a weird rustling sound. What?

  Popping my eyes open, I quickly figure out that I’m actually on a mattress on the floor, in Roxy’s bright pink sleeping bag. The sunlight feels like glass scraping at my eyeballs. I wince and roll away from the window, tucking the pillow under my head and hoping sleep will drag me back to dreamland. Or maybe not. As I close my eyes, a chilling sensation whistles through my body. Murky images of wandering hands, pinching fingers, and hot lips make me sit up with a jerk.

  I pat my chest, assuring myself I’m not naked. I’m in Roxy’s bedroom, wearing my dad’s old football shirt and just having an innocent little sleepover. Right?

  Clutching my pounding head, I let out another groan. My tongue feels thick and pasty. With shaky hands, I snatch the water bottle off the floor and chug back half of it. Wiping the drip from my bottom lip, I wince and look across the room. Roxy is stirring in her bed. I can tell by the way the covers are moving.

  Michelle’s sleeping on an air mattress near the window. She looks dead to the world and will probably stay that way until the early afternoon. That girl knows how to sleep away a Sunday.

  With a sleepy little moan, Roxy rolls over and spots me watching her.

  “Morning,” she croaks
.

  “You told me you wouldn’t let me do anything stupid,” I croak back.

  We sound like a couple of bullfrogs.

  I rub my raspy throat then shudder, this weird sensation I can’t explain still crawling all over my skin.

  Roxy yawns, covering her mouth, then looks at me. There’s a guilty little glint in her gaze that is setting off freaking fire alarms in my head.

  “What?” I snap, accentuating the T.

  Roxy’s nose scrunches and she sits up with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I lost track of you at one point.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t.” Panic skitters up my spine and my breaths grow short and punchy.

  “And you promised you wouldn’t take off without telling me!” Roxy whisper-barks at me, quickly glancing at Michelle before facing me again. “I turned my back for one second, and you were just gone. Michelle didn’t see you leave either, but admittedly she was pretty tongue-tied at the time.” She dips her head and I quickly read her meaning.

  I roll my eyes and start to shake my head, but that’s a really bad idea. I rub my forehead with a whimper.

  “I swear I started looking for you right away. When I found you, you…were kind of wasted.”

  “How long were you looking for me?”

  “I don’t know, half an hour maybe?”

  Great! Enough time to do something completely insane.

  “What did I say?” My voice is low and harsh now, making me sound like a man with laryngitis.

  Roxy tips her hands and shrugs. “You weren’t yelling when I found you, so that’s good, right?”

  My face crumples and I let out this high-pitched whine. “What was I doing?”

  Pushing back the covers, Roxy pads over to me and nestles onto the edge of the mattress. The sleeping bag rustles beneath her as she tucks her leg under her butt.

  “You were just leaning against the wall with this dopey, confused look on your face like you didn’t know how you got there or something.”