Strong & Wilde

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Strong & Wilde Page 7

by L. G. Castillo

“Come on, Cody. No questions. Just close your eyes.”

  I closed them wondering what she was up to. She kept giggling as I heard her moving around the kitchen opening and closing drawers.

  “Oh, crapity crap! I can’t find it.”

  “Find what?”

  “Eyes closed!”

  “They’re closed.” I laughed. I loved how she was being all silly and giggly.

  “Do you have a lighter?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled one out from my pocket and placed it on the table. “Can I open them yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  I heard the flick of the lighter and wondered what she was up to.

  “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

  On a small plate in front of me was a cupcake with a candle. “Happy eighteenth birthday!”

  “Aw, Cassie. I didn’t get you nothin’.”

  “You gave me the best present yet. You saved me from Seth.” Her eyes danced when she looked at me.

  I pulled out my jackknife and cut the cupcake, handing her half. “Happy birthday, Cassie.”

  She laughed as she took the cake. “Mmm, this is really good,” she mumbled with her mouth full of cake.

  “It sure is.”

  “So, how in the hell is Seth still in high school anyway?” she asked, taking a drink of her iced tea.

  I tossed a handful of Fritos into my mouth and munched a while before I answered. “If it wasn’t for his dad being sheriff, he’d probably still be a junior. I heard he flunked almost every single class during his sophomore year. Probably ’cause he spent more time in the principal's office than in the classroom.” I took a swig of my soda, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and continued. “Mike told me that the sheriff managed to convince the superintendent to let Seth advance to his junior year last year. Said something about an accidental deletion of the superintendent's DUI record if he agreed.”

  “That figures. Dad never did like Sheriff Baker.”

  The room stilled and her face grew sad with the mention of her father. Memories of Dale flooded my mind and I wondered if she was thinking of him too.

  “Um, Cassie, if you ever need someone to talk to about you know...your dad, you can always talk with me. I lost my dad when I was little.”

  “I remember,” she said sadly. She placed the half-eaten sandwich back on her plate and pushed it away from her. My chest began to ache at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears.

  “Does it ever get better?” Her voice cracked.

  She looked so delicate. Her eyes pulled me in and all I wanted to do was to take away the hurt. Without thinking, I placed my hand over hers. A jolt of electrical current ran up my arm and into the pit of my stomach.

  I jumped slightly at the touch, making the chair squeak. I looked around the room thinking maybe I had rubbed my feet on carpet or something. All I saw was green and white flower-patterned linoleum.

  She looked deep into my eyes as if searching for an answer. I kept my hand over hers, relishing the feeling. The warm hand that lay beneath mine was silky soft.

  The kitchen clock ticked as the minutes passed. I tried to tear myself away from those hypnotizing eyes that grew dark with emotion. I don’t know how much time passed and I didn’t care. I could be lost in those eyes forever.

  A wavy strand of hair fell loose against her cheek. And for some reason, I felt an insane desire to touch her hair, her cheeks, her lips. My hands itched to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, any excuse to touch her.

  My heart pounded frantically as Cassie’s eyes slowly traveled down to my mouth, and I imagined what it would feel like to kiss her. Then I found myself leaning in.

  The clock chimed, bringing us back to reality, and I realized what I was doing. I lifted my hand away from hers, worried that if I continued to touch her, I’d give in and ravish those pink lips. That’s not what she needed right now.

  Clearing my throat, I answered her. “It doesn’t ever really get better, just more...manageable.”

  She let out a breath as if she was relieved too.

  “You know,”—I leaned back against the chair—“when I’m lying awake in bed, right before the sun rises, I swear I can hear my dad getting ready for work. It’s like he’s still here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Uh...I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you feel that you can trust me enough to share that with me. The same thing happens to me too at night. My dad would come home after working the late shift and sneak into my room to check on me. The floorboards would creak, and I would pretend to be asleep.”

  Her eyes looked into the distance, reliving a memory. “I think he knew that I wasn’t really sleeping, but he never let on that he knew. He would stroke my hair, lean down, and kiss my forehead, whispering ‘good night, princess.’ He’d stand over me just for a minute before he left. Sometimes when I’m in bed with my eyes closed, half asleep, I swear I can feel his lips on my forehead. I wake up hoping to see him and then”—she took a shaky breath—“and then I realize he’s never coming back.”

  She shook her head, shaking the memory. She released a deep breath and turned her eyes back to me. “Cody, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “You were about to punch out Seth. Why did you stop? He deserved it.”

  What could I say? Tell her that I made a promise to my dying father? Would she laugh at me?

  Deciding to tell her the truth, I reached out for my hat and plopped it on my head. With my thumb, I tilted it back, so I could look her in the eye.

  “Cassie, when he touched you, it took everything I had not to beat the shit out of him. I made a promise to my father to stay out of trouble. And Seth, well, he ain’t nothin’ but trouble. But even if I knocked the shit out of him, it wouldn’t end there.”

  I stood up from the table and walked to the front door afraid to see the expression on her face. Would she think I’m a pussy like the rest of them? I knew what everyone else thought about me. Even now, I expected to get razzed when we went back. I could take it. I was used to it. But not from her.

  “Do you think I’m a coward ’cause I didn’t fight him?” I placed a hand on the doorframe and looked outside, bracing myself for the answer.

  After a moment, I heard her chair scrape against the floor and footsteps padding toward me. A soft hand touched my bicep, urging me to turn.

  A finger gently lifted my chin until my eyes met hers. “Cody, I think doing the opposite of what people expect you to do is the bravest thing anyone can do. Other than my dad, you are the most courageous man I’ve ever known.”

  She thinks I’m brave. Me...brave!

  No one has ever called me that. People who knew my dad and how he’d never put up with anyone’s bullshit and could beat down any man always expected me to do the same. They’d never say it to my face, but I know some of them even questioned whether I was my father’s son. But, Cassie, she saw things different.

  “You’re a good friend, Cassie.”

  “I take my pinky swears seriously.” Her eyes twinkled.

  I laughed. “We should head back to school, you think?”

  “Yeah. I guess we should.” She looked at me with hopeful anticipation.

  Damn it, Wilde! Ask her out or something. Don’t just stand there lookin’ like a fool.

  “Mandi and I are going to the football game tonight,” she said. “Will you be there?”

  Shit! I never went to the games. Not because I didn’t want to. Seth and Chase were always there to watch Dillon play. Now that the new kid, Nic, was going to start as quarterback, Seth would probably be looking for any excuse for a fight. After today, it wouldn’t be wise to go near that game tonight.

  I gazed into Cassie’s hopeful eyes and I couldn’t help myself. I gave her the most I could at that moment.

  “Maybe.”

  When her face fell, I wanted to kick my own ass. I would if I could. She deserved to be with s
omeone who could take her out without having to worry about where Seth and his brothers might be. She deserved better than me.

  TWELVE: Cassie

  “Holy cripes on a cracker, Cassie! It’s freaking cold out here. Why didn’t you tell me it was going to get cold?”

  Mandi was hunched forward, arms folded, shivering. I laughed and snuggled into my pink sweater. “I did. You didn’t believe me.”

  “Ugh! You’re so mean. How was I to know you weren’t making it up? It was ninety freaking degrees just a few hours ago.”

  I put my arm around her and gave her a hug. “I wouldn’t do that to you, even if you do dress strangely. Besides, you’ve lived in Texas long enough to know that the weather changes in the blink of an eye.”

  “Hey, my fashion sense is top notch. I can’t help it if Koppe is behind by a few decades.”

  I looked at her as she adjusted her red headband. The red and white feathers at the end of the band highlighted the shine of her dark curls. There was a gentle breeze and the feathers and loose wavy strands of hair blew in the wind.

  “Here. Hold this.” She handed me a half-eaten candy bar from her purse.

  “What are you doing?”

  Her head was buried in her bag, searching. “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing.” I noted when she finally pulled out a compact mirror and flipped it open. Then she piled on another coat of red lip-gloss. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care about football, you spent an awfully long time getting ready.”

  She snapped the lid back onto the gloss and pulled out a pink tube of mascara. “So.”

  “So, isn’t that like the fourth layer of mascara?”

  She looked into the mirror, tipping her head back as she continued to pile on the mascara. “Uh, huh. So?”

  “You took two hours to curl your hair, which is really pretty by the way, and you keep looking around the bleachers and putting on makeup. I think you’re expecting to see someone special.” I grinned.

  She turned to me and scowled. “Oh yeah, and what about you and that sweater?”

  “What? It’s cold.” I gave her an innocent look.

  “Uh, huh. You”—she pointed the mascara’s green cap at me—“wear that ratty Texas University sweatshirt when it’s cold, not this oh-I’m-so-soft-and-girly sweater. I know that you know that shade of pink makes your skin look perfect. And the Vaseline is a nice touch too. It makes your lips look kissable.”

  “I just didn’t want to get chapped lips.”

  “You can’t fool me.” She clicked the compact close and plopped her makeup back into her bag. “Oh and it’s working. Cody can’t take his eyes off you.”

  “What?” I jolted up as if the metal bench had shocked my butt. Then I settled back trying to look cool. “Oh, Cody’s here?”

  I couldn’t believe it. I tried hard not to hold out any hope that he’d come, especially when I’d basically asked him out and he’d turned me down.

  Okay, so I didn’t really ask him out and he didn’t actually say no. It stung just the same. I thought I’d die right there on the spot when he’d said maybe.

  I scanned the bleachers, trying not to be obvious.

  “Yeah, he’s sitting over there on the back of his truck bed with Lynette.” Mandi pointed to a gravel parking lot a few yards behind the goal post.

  I waved good-bye as my heart took a nosedive off a cliff. It was nice knowing you.

  Mandi was right. Cody was looking in my direction. By the way Lynette kept pawing him, it was obvious he wasn’t looking at me. He was probably looking for someone else.

  He must’ve noticed me though because he touched the tip of his Stetson and gave me a nod. When I gave him a small wave, Lynette jumped off the truck bed and stood right in front of him blocking his view.

  I sighed, turning my attention to the football field. The band started to play the Cougar fight song and a few students on the field lifted a fifteen-foot banner with the words “Go Cougars! Beat the Rebels!”

  The crowd roared when the football team tore through the banner and the crowded roared louder. When the cheerleaders tumbled across the field, I spotted Bianca, doing backflips. She was really good.

  Then a football player with the number five on his jersey jogged confidently across the field. Bianca waved her pom-poms frantically.

  Mandi latched on to my arm at that moment. I’d never seen her look so excited. I glanced down at her hand and then back at her with my eyebrow arched.

  She blinked innocently. “What? I’m cold. I want to share body heat.”

  “I take it Nic is number five.”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  There was yelling and booing in the crowd when Nic approached the bench with the other football players.

  “We want Baker!”

  “Go back home to your momma, Boy!”

  “Ain’t no place for Yankees ’round here.”

  I turned to see where the voices were coming from. In the upper corner of the bleachers sat Seth and Chase. They were encouraging the others around them to boo. I recognized a few of Sheriff Baker’s friends with them. They weren’t shy about making their opinions known either.

  “They’re booing. Our own fans are booing him.” Mandi stood up and turned to face the crowd. “What’s wrong with you people?”

  She ducked as a wave of popcorn and empty paper cups were thrown at her.

  “Up yours!” She did a series of hand and arm gestures before she sat back down.

  “The nerve of them,” she huffed.

  The game went by quickly. I glanced over at Cody periodically. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know why I was torturing myself like that. Lynette was wearing her usual skin-tight jeans and four-inch heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Despite the cold, she wore a red Koppe Cougars t-shirt with the front of the shirt bunched into a knot right below her boobs, revealing a flat stomach. With each successful play, she’d jump up and down, her breasts bouncing.

  I groaned, biting into the candy bar Mandi had slapped into my hand when she realized Lynette was with Cody. I was so confused. Was I just imagining things with him this afternoon? I really thought he was feeling the same way I was. I remembered the way his blue eyes grew dark as they looked at mine. His lips parting as he stared at me.

  I sighed. Oh, well. I guess he just wanted to be friends. I could live with that. I glanced back as the crowd cheered loudly and Lynette started bouncing again.

  I shook my head. I really should stop judging. If Cody liked her, then she couldn’t be that bad. She can’t help that her cousins are creeps.

  “Oh my god! Did you see that?” Mandi grabbed my arm jumping up and down.

  “Nic! Nic! Nic!” the crowd chanted.

  “What? What happened?”

  “Nic just threw a really long pass. He was right there”—she pointed to the 20-yard line near our team’s end zone—“and now they’re way over there.”

  I looked at the field and noticed that the team was lined up at the 10-yard line at the Rebels’ end zone.

  The crowd roared again as Nic maneuvered around the other team’s football players who were trying desperately to tackle him. He dodged from left to right then ducked as a player lunged into the air. Just as it looked like two players were about to get him, he shot between them, escaping their reach.

  The crowd roared his name as he made a touchdown.

  Mandi turned around and yelled. “I told you so!”

  Seth was livid. He stood up and headed toward the exit with Chase close behind him.

  The rest of the game went really fast from there. Nic won over the crowd with his fantastic moves. The other team was just as good as ours. It was a nail biter of a game and for a while I almost forgot my disappointment about Cody and Lynette. I found myself cheering on Nic along with Mandi.

  Mandi gripped my arm with baited breath as we watched Nic in the center of the huddle. The game was close at 21-17. Our team had th
e ball and there was only ten seconds left on the clock.

  When the huddle broke up, she ducked her head against my shoulder. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t look. Tell me if we win.”

  “Open your eyes, Mandi. Look over there.” I pointed at Nic who was looking in our direction, gesturing me to get her attention.

  When she looked up, he patted his chest twice and then pointed right at her.

  She squealed and nearly pulled my arm out of its socket. “Um, ow?”

  She let go. “Sorry. I’m just so excited...about the game.”

  “Uh, huh. Yeah.”

  The center snapped the ball to Nic. He took a few steps back and turned to his right. When he lifted his arm about to throw, a blur of white flew at him. Nic dashed down the field, and the player fell to the ground. As Nic ran, two other Rebels sped toward him. Nic ran to his left then quickly to his right. Then a sea of white swarmed around him, swallowing him up. They were going to get him. There was no way he could get out of that mass of players.

  Then out of nowhere, Nic shot through the swarm. His legs were a blur as he flew toward the end zone.

  Forty yards.

  Thirty yards.

  Mandi leapt to her feet screaming, “Go, Nic! Go!”

  Ten yards.

  Touchdown!

  The buzzer rang and the crowd thundered.

  Mandi and I jumped up and down wildly.

  “He did it!” I yelled.

  The cheerleaders and some of the students ran onto the field. Everyone was so excited. Mandi’s face glowed with pride when members of the football team picked Nic up on their shoulders and carried him down the field.

  Nic took off his helmet. Shiny, wet black hair was plastered against his forehead. His face flushed red with heat despite the cold night. Looking at Mandi, he yelled at his teammates who then placed him on the ground. He went up to his sister and said something to her. She nodded. Using his helmet, he pointed in our direction.

  Bianca ran toward us waving for us to come down from the stands.

  “There’s a party at Koppe Bridge,” she said when we reached her. “Nic wants you to come. And he wanted to make sure that you know that I can go to the party only if you go. So please, please, please say yes. Nic never lets me go to the same parties he’s at.”

 

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