Talisman

by S.E. Akers

  My lips puckered on the spot. Frankly, this was the first time I wasn’t pleased that my lovable ole boss was so accommodating. Knowing my chances of scoring an easy out had been nixed was bothersome enough, but what made Charlie’s reply even worse was that I hadn’t given him a specific reason I needed off from work. Crap… Paranoia was a cruel bitch — especially in a small-town like Welch.

  He couldn’t possibly know who I’m going with, could he? I let out a grunt, grabbed my stuff, slammed the door of my Charger, and headed straight to my homeroom — silently grumbling about that, along with everything else that was looming over my head like a dark & dreary cloud.

  Upon entering my classroom, I spied my best friend, Katie Stowell already sitting at her desk, which was a surprise. Katie ran just as late as Chloe most of the time, particularly for school. And as usual, my BFF was flipping through a fashion magazine while she twisted the dainty diamond pendant on the end of her necklace.

  Katie glanced up and threw me a sly grin, one that didn’t seem to be sitting too well with my gut all of a sudden. Oh yeah, I thought as I edged closer. Smug would have been tolerable, but unfortunately, it screamed what I affectionately called,“shit-taé”.

  Not good…

  “Well, lookie there . . . if it isn’t the future Mrs. Riverside,” Katie declared with the straightest of faces. And to be quite honest, my BFF almost looked disappointed that she didn’t have a trumpet to sound and some firecrackers to shoot off.

  “How in the heck do you know about THAT?” I demanded, too flustered to care about being hush-hush.

  Katie shrugged her shoulders. “I heard some of the cheerleaders talking about it in the hall,” my BFF replied with a pout, letting me know exactly how hurt she was that the proverbial horse hadn’t whinnied out the news to her first. After all, we had been best friends since kindergarten.

  “Holy Hell,” I groaned. “The whole school will know by the end of the day.”

  “If not by lunch,” Katie smirked. “I just can’t believe you’re actually doing it. You HATE Mike Riverside.”

  “What can I say? They guilted me into it,” I shamelessly proclaimed and then proceeded to divulge a rendition of the terrible-twosome’s melodrama from last night to a theatrical T. “Trust me,” I assured. “It’ll only be for a couple of hours. I’m already planning a reason for Mike to suddenly have to take me home.”

  “What did Mike say?” Katie probed.

  “I have no idea . . . and I couldn’t care less,” I huffed and shoved my backpack under my desk.

  “You should care,” Katie insisted. “I don’t trust that sneaky bastard. What if he tries something?”

  Needless to say, the round of laughter that erupted out of my mouth was downright hysterical. “Katie, that’s CRAZY! I’m NOT his type! I think it’s a well-known fact around school that my legs are locked-at-the-knees. He won’t ‘try’ anything. After all, he hasn’t messed with me since First Grade — in any respect.” Mike Riverside had stolen my lunch once when we were little. I picked up the first thing I could find and conked him with it. Unfortunately for Mike, it turned out to be a vintage bright-yellow Tonka truck someone had brought in for Show-and-Tell (the really heavy die-cast metal kind too). I had to sit in the corner during recess for two weeks — but after that, he never touched my lunch box ever again.

  Katie giggled. “Does he still have a scar on his head?”

  “I’m not sure,” I pondered with a grin. “Possibly . . . I’ll ask him when we’re out on our date. That’ll be a great conversation starter.”

  We had a little more fun laughing at Mike’s expense, but I honestly didn’t know if going to the dance with him was a sensible idea or not. Either way, I had a feeling it would be a memorable evening.

  Katie scooted closer. “Okay, enough about that. Have you heard ANYTHING about the mine?”

  It seemed my best friend was just as worried and rightfully so. Even though her parents owned the local jewelry store, if half the town lost their jobs, their business would be just as devastated by its closing as well.

  “There’s a meeting today at 3 o’clock,” I replied. “I’m going to race over there after school. Daddy said I could stop by.”

  “Please remember to take your cell,” Katie pleaded. “And I want updates every five minutes.”

  “I’ll try,” I smiled.

  “Good,” Katie nodded and then turned back around. My best friend leaned back in her chair, never giving me the slightest glance. “So tell me, Shi. How are you going to break the news to Chloe about the inevitable nuptials this chance date will bring forth, or even worse . . . how will you soften the sting to Charlotte?”

  I gave Katie a good-natured whack on the back of her head. “Oh, I think I’ll just drop them a postcard while we’re on our honeymoon.” Both of us couldn’t help giggling at that ridiculous notion.

  “Katie, I don’t want to talk about Mike anymore or anything to do with the mine. Let’s just review for our Geology test, okay?” I was being very adamant (and maybe a bit bossy) about the parameters of our homeroom time.

  Katie whirled her head around with a playfully offended huff. “Boy, you haven’t even been out with Mike yet, and you’re already acting as high and mighty as he does. You’ll fit into the Riverside family just fine,” she insisted with a cutesy wink before turning back around, proudly scoring one last dig.

  I tugged on the back of her necklace. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell him not to purchase my engagement ring from your parents’ shop.” My words may have been playful enough, but my tone behind them let my BFF know I’d had enough of her witty Mike-jabs.

  Katie tilted her head as she leaned back. “I really don’t see the point in me breaking my neck for an A on this test — or any test,” she griped. “You know my parents are just humoring me with college. All they want is for me to get a business degree so I can come back here and run their store.”

  Sadly her claim wasn’t off-base. Ron and Julia Stowell had called Katie their “little retirement plan” for as long as I could remember — and they weren’t teasing either.

  “Just think, Katie . . . That’s still four years of freedom,” I insisted, hoping to put a hint of a smile back on her perfectly painted face. “Six if you can talk them into Graduate School.”

  “Maybe ten if I carry a light load and flunk a few courses,” Katie said with an artful laugh.

  Well, at least she had a plan.

  “I like your new do,” I whispered and flipped the back of her hair. Katie had chopped off her long brunette locks to her shoulders and added a few fire-engine red streaks. The ends were all shaggy, flipping every which way. It really complemented her oval face, and the highlights made the golden flecks in her amber eyes sparkle.

  Katie ran her fingers through her hair and shook it dramatically. “Thank you for noticing,” she gushed.

  What a diva! Katie was always in vogue — from head to toe. I was too comfortable and set in my ways to ever try a daring new look. I really admired my best friend’s courage when it came to changing up her style. Everything she tried looked great on her—without fail—whether it was trendy or classic (or even an eclectic mix of both). Katie was undeniably a fashionista, unlike me, who she affectionately referred to as “ponytail”.

  The first-period bell rang before long, kicking off yet another ordinary school day. Mrs. Thompson, our Statistics teacher, gave us only one problem for our daily assignment. The calculations took up the entire forty-five minutes, regrettably, and only a few of us finished.

  During second period Literature, we discussed Hamlet, which most of the class still hadn’t read. Mr. Jackson didn’t seem that upset about it. He actually appeared kind of fidgety or possibly, borderline-distracted.

  I suppose if the mine shuts down, a lot of our teachers will lose their jobs, too — particularly if half the school’s student body is forced to relocate.

  We had
a pop-quiz in third period Government. I didn’t see that one coming, but I did pretty well. The substitute who was sitting in for our regular teacher, Mr. Connors, gave us the rest of the period, so I got a chance to review for my Geology exam. I didn’t need too much prep, mainly a speedy skim of the last two chapters on rocks and minerals. I had to admit that learning about all the earth’s wonders was fascinating — with the notable exception of coal. I couldn’t care less if I ever saw another hunk of the dirty black stuff for the rest of my life. Coal was the only thing keeping this town afloat, but when you’ve grown up in a coal mining community your entire life, all you want is to get away from it — as soon as possible. There was a big, clean coal-less world out there, and I wanted to experience as much of it as I could.

  And I didn’t want to be held prisoner here forever like Katie. She’s probably right. She’ll go off to college only to be ordered home by her parents after she graduates, inevitably to run their jewelry store. At least she’ll be stuck here with a decent job. I found it equally upsetting that Charlotte’s grand plan for Chloe was marrying her off to Mike Riverside (the sooner, the better). I can see it now — a wedding band on her finger, her high school diploma in one hand, and a baby diaper in the other. That mental snapshot sure rocked my shoulders with a revolting chill.

  By the time fourth-period arrived, I felt a growing sense of angst starting to churn. But it wasn’t stemming from my pending Geology exam. Not hardly. I was bothered by the irksome fact that Mike Riverside’s assigned desk sat right beside mine. That alone made my normal gait to class slow to a reluctant poke. Ugh… And he was standing near the door talking to Kara Leighton too when I finally arrived. Now there was a perfect pair. “Class Ass” with “Easy Piece of Ass”.

  Fitting.

  I paused in the doorway of the classroom to hone my stare. Unlike most of the school’s general population trapped under her charming faux-angelic spell, I didn’t see what was so fascinating about our school’s resident mean-girl. She wore way too much make-up, and all of her clothes were at least one size too small (especially her uniform at the Drive-In). My eyes rolled as I thought about the limits of her mental capacity. How Kara even maintained a C average to stay on the cheerleading squad was beyond me. There wasn’t room to fill her head with any knowledge; that vacuous space was already taken up by an ample amount of air. She wasn’t what I would call a waitress either. Kara was more of a flirty hostess who made sure her male customers received a heaping side-order of “tease”. And right now, it was clear from the touchy-feely ass-pat Kara had just given Mike what she fully intended on serving him a little something from off her personal menu — if she hadn’t already.

  Chloe needs to open up those big eyes of hers another notch…along with another person Kara claims is her “boyfriend”. I shook my head as I stepped into the classroom. My sneer alone could have curdled an entire dairy farm.

  WHATEVER…

  Katie started chatting my ears off no sooner than I’d slid into my seat. The last thing I remembered her saying was something about a new movie she wanted to see, though I couldn’t tell you the name of it or what it was about, not from the moment Tyler Smith glided into the room — straight off his billowy cloud. I bit my lip before my smile became embarrassingly obvious, especially after watching him sweep his hand through his dark locks and catching a brief sparkle dancing in those dreamy blue eyes of his. HE was the guy whom I’d had the biggest crush on for years, and in my opinion, the hottest guy in school. His rock-hard physique was only out-shone by his brains. Ty was the only player on the football team with an A-average and my closest competitor for graduating with top honors at our school. He wasn’t vain like most of the jocks, and he always spoke to me. I guessed I’d been focusing on my college aspirations so much lately that I’d forgotten just how appealing he truly was. This was an excellent reminder.

  My perfect vision was interrupted by a classic “I-know-what-you-were-doing” smack to the shoulder from Katie to my right and Mike’s arrogant rear plopping his butt into the seat to my left. Perfect, I grumbled as I kept my eyes straight ahead. Neither of us acknowledged the other with even the slightest crappy-look. So we seemed to be on the same page—ignore each other—which was fine by me.

  “Any day now,” Ms. Fitzpatrick announced, trying to prompt the remaining stragglers to take their seats.

  Kristine Fitzpatrick, also called “Ms. Fitz” by many of us, was one of my favorite teachers. I think she earned her Master’s degree from an Ivy League school up north. How she ended up here, I had no idea or why on earth she would even want to? Honestly, there wasn’t that much of Welch you could technically map out on Google; even “the middle of nowhere” held far more online real estate than what our little spot tucked in the hills claimed. Ms. Fitz was undeniably more dressed up than usual today, outfitted stylishly in a double-breasted red suit that accented her brown skin tone perfectly. You couldn’t help but notice all of her accessories either, mainly her jewelry. I’d seen Christmas trees with less bling. She had even darkened her make-up several shades and was sporting a sleek new hairstyle as well. Someone abruptly blew a catcall towards the front of the room, letting me know that I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the change.

  “Ms. Fitz, you sure look nice today,” Marcus Patterson, one of our football team’s tight ends, called out. Several other students immediately chimed in with a few whistles of their own.

  “Flattery won’t get a single one of you an A on this test,” Ms. Fitzpatrick insisted. “But it might earn you a few bonus points,” she added with a smile.

  “What’s with the new look?” Kara Leighton asked.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but an old friend of mine from college is coming to town, and I’m meeting them for coffee later,” Ms. Fitz explained.

  “Is it a girl friend . . . or a guy friend?” Kara pried, batting her eyes.

  Ms. Fitzpatrick began to blush. “It’s a guy friend, but that’s all he is — a dear, old friend,” she stressed over numerous giggles. “Books away and pencils out people,” she demanded, attempting to end our interrogation. “Good luck. If you haven’t studied, you’re going to need it.”

  Fortunately I wasn’t one of those people. I jotted down my name, Shyloh Wallace, at the top of the first page and then got right to work. I breezed through the questions, and after writing a detailed summary of the characteristics of various igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic rocks, I walked up to Ms. Fitzpatrick’s desk and handed her my exam.

  “I’m not surprised,” Ms. Fitzpatrick remarked with a grin.

  I smiled back and then returned to my seat, noting I still had a good fifteen minutes left to kill. I couldn’t let my thoughts dwell on the mine, so I grabbed my Geology book and started reading the next chapter. The bell rang before too much longer, thankfully. Katie had just handed in her test and was returning to her seat.

  “I’ll meet you in the Caf,” Katie called out.

  I confirmed our plans with a quick nod and then hurried down to the second floor where my locker was located. It was uncomfortably too close to Mike’s for my liking, especially today. I’d successfully avoided a conversation with him last period, but I knew he would be along soon. I still couldn’t stomach the idea of a face-to-face about “the dance”. Chloe could fill me in on any pending details later. Though in the midst of my frantic rush to dodge him, I ended up dropping all the books I was scrambling to put away. Crap!

  I tried gathering them up as quickly as possible when I heard a hostile male voice say, “We need to talk.”

  I saw a pair of black Asics with white piping and looked up. There, standing above me was the jackass himself, in the flesh. Disappointed and defeated, I rose up and pitched the last book into my locker.

  “What about, Mike?” I replied, pretending to be puzzled.

  “Look — I know Chloe has already filled you in on our proposed date,” Mike
countered. “I really don’t care. I’d rather go by myself, but my parents are insisting I go with someone — ANYONE,” he stressed, nostrils flaring. “Just don’t embarrass me. I’ll pick you up around 7 o’clock, so be ready. None of this keep-me-waiting-because-you’re-not-ready girl-crap. Got it?” Mike demanded and then smugly strutted off down the hall.

  I slammed my locker shut with a snarl and gave the combination lock a heated spin clockwise. I’m sacrificing my Saturday night to spend it with an asshole, I raged to myself. To help out two ungrateful witches!

  My selfless act had already lost its luster and was in no way giving me the warm & fuzzies anymore. I stormed off down the hall towards the cafeteria to meet up with Katie. I wasn’t the least bit hungry. I didn’t know if it was because I’d eaten such a big breakfast or if my stomach was flipping around full of worry over the situation with the mine. Probably a little of both, with an added touch of nausea about the dance…and MY DATE, I grumbled as I yanked open the cafeteria door. Yeah, he’s a regular Prince Charming all right!

  The scene in the lunchroom seemed markedly amiss. Everyone was convening throughout the space, huddled up into his or her long-standing cliques like always, but the room was relatively quiet—almost painfully focused—and not the least bit lively like it normally was. Even all the teachers had gathered around a long table near the back, seeming engrossed in their hushed conversations and looking less than concerned about monitoring the room, let alone eating anything.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. “So how did you do on the test, Shi?” a familiar and stirring voice asked.

  A warm sensation tingled my entire body, igniting my eyes like a pair of sparklers. I whipped around to see Tyler Smith smiling back at me, which sent my stomach straight into a flip — the first one I’d had all morning that hadn’t been triggered by any assholes or the murky fate of a coal mine.

  “I think I did pretty well,” I replied humbly.

  There was something undeniably fine about Tyler Smith. It wasn’t his sculptured physique (of course, that didn’t hurt), or even the way his eyes glistened whenever he smiled. That only forced me to remember to breathe. The fact that he made straight A’s and cared about his grades was merely a perk. Truthfully, it was because with all that going for him, he was still so down-to-earth and radiated this indescribable gentle kind of confidence. That’s what pulled my trigger. Realistically, Ty could be as cocky as Mike Riverside, if he wanted to be — but he wasn’t. And Ty had a compassionate side as well. He volunteered with Helping Hands, a charity that assisted the elderly and handicapped residents in our area. I stood there in a slight daze, totally envying Kara Leighton while I stared at the handsome, quintessential boy-next-door. Discovering how the Pyramids of Giza had been built would be a heck of a lot easier to figure out than the union of those two polar opposites.

  I just don’t freakin’ get it, I groused quietly.

  “I’m sure you did better than pretty well,” Ty laughed. “You probably destroyed the curve for everyone else.”

  “You won’t need to rely on a curve,” I countered. As thrilling as it was to have Ty’s full attention, I found myself scanning the cafeteria, distracted by its unsettling vibe.

  “Ty, is it me, or does it seem a little weird around here to you too?” I asked.

  “You could say that. Everyone’s gossiping about the mine, including the faculty. Ms. Fitz got a makeover. But my personal favorite, that I just heard a minute ago, is that you are going to the Homecoming dance with Mike. I’d say our town is headed for a redneck apocalypse.”

  My eyes shot open. There was a strange look shrouding Ty’s face—no two ways about it—but I couldn’t quite tell if it was more disbelief or possibly disgust. Embarrassed, I chose to focus on his first observation.

  “Yeah, I guess no matter who you are in this town, the fate of the mine will be your own.” I scanned the hushed sea of gathered masses in the lunchroom. I didn’t want to be reminded of this all day, so I rallied to continue the conversation. “Personally, I like Ms. Fitz’s new look. If an old friend of mine happened to be in town, I would want to look a little nicer too.”

  “You’re right,” Ty concurred, “about the mine . . . and Ms. Fitz.” He stepped closer. “But that doesn’t explain why YOU are going to the dance with Mike. What’s up with THAT?”

  In all honesty, it wasn’t any of his or anyone else’s business, but the staggered look on his face had me scrambling to mount a defense. It sure hinted that I was well on my way to “crazy”.

  “I’m only doing it for Chloe. His mother won’t hear of him going stag . . . And let’s just say, my little sister trusts her girlfriends about as far as she can throw them.”

  Ugh. I felt icky enough about the favor. I sure didn’t need the awkwardness of someone bringing it up to me purposely — especially Tyler “I’ve had a crush on him forever” Smith. I happened to spot Katie by the vending machines and quickly waved her over.

  “There’s Katie. I was supposed to meet her here a few minutes ago,” I informed him, trying to dodge any further questions. Why the heck should it matter to him anyway?

  Katie strutted over to us, grinning from ear to ear. She tossed a Diet Coke my way, along with a discreet, sly grin. “Hey, Ty. Are you joining us? I saved a couple of seats over by the back windows,” Katie suggested and then gave me a subtle nudge.

  Ty shifted his frame back and forth uncomfortably. “Umm . . . No,” he insisted. “I’m heading for the fountain.” During lunchtime on any day of a fair-weathered week, all the senior football players (as well as most of the cheerleaders) could be found in the school’s courtyard hanging around “the fountain” — their sacred ground.

  Katie shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. Suit yourself.”

  “Yeah, Katie . . . um, bye, Shiloh,” Ty replied somewhat uncertainly.

  What happened next was nothing short of bizarre. He had told us “bye”, but his body didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I nodded back to him, curious about why he hadn’t moved. Ty eventually picked up on my confusion too. He started to walk off, but then stopped abruptly and turned back around just as quick.

  “I just didn’t know you liked dances,” Ty announced and then blazed a trail through the cafeteria, headed for the exit.

  “What the heck was THAT?” Katie inquired with a laugh-like gasp.

  I was stunned. “I’m not exactly sure.” After all, he was Kara’s boyfriend. At least it appeared that way last night at the Drive-In, and I hadn’t heard any music-to-my-ears rumors of a break-up. “You don’t think he wanted to ask me to the dance . . . Do you?” I could hardly say it out loud, let alone think it.

  Katie smacked me on the head. “You think?” She grabbed my hand and led me over to one of the seats she’d saved.

  I lowered myself into the padded chair in a daze. As I replayed Ty’s comment in my head, I couldn’t help but wonder, If he wanted to ask me to the dance, then why the heck didn’t he? I pondered that one simple question over and over in silence as I sipped on my Diet Coke.

  I’d heard Katie’s voice calling me, but my mind was helplessly adrift. I snapped out of my trance as soon as she pressed her icy soda can against my arm.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Katie. What did you say?”

  “You’re intimidating,” Katie replied casually.

  Confused, I looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “What? What are you talking about?”

  Katie cleared her throat. “You’re sitting there thinking, ‘Why didn’t he ask me to the dance?’ and I’m telling you it’s because you’re kind of intimidating.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I laughed.

  “Oh, is it?” Katie posed with an arched brow. “Well, let’s see . . . For starters, you’re super-smart and your kindness goes without saying. Your only flaw is your own guilt, which is probably why you can’t say ‘no’ to anyone. You run around town sportin’ your college sweat
shirts and jeans, without any makeup or even a drop of perfume, and your hair is still in the same old ponytail you’ve had since kindergarten. And despite all that, you’re still one of the most naturally beautiful girls around. It’s rather sickening,” Katie added with a crinkle of her nose and then grinned. “Like I said . . . You’re intimidating.”

  Stunned had now been replaced with uncomfortable.

  “Thanks for taking my mind off the mine.” Katie was doing what a true best friend was supposed to — build you up. I shook my head, brushing off her assessment. “Katie, if I were all that, guys would be falling all over me.”

  “You really don’t see it, do you? Ugh! You’re soooo delusional.” Katie threw her arms up in the air, suggesting she was surrendering to what she considered to be utter insanity. “I stand by my original assessment. You’re intimidating. Deep down, they’re too scared to approach you. Maybe it’s because they think you’re too good, and it makes them realize how crappy they are . . . I don’t know? You come across as pretty tough sometimes. Maybe they think you’ll kick their asses?” she proposed with a devilish laugh.

  This conversation was becoming unbearable at an alarming rate. “Change of subject — PLEASE?” I begged.

  “Fine . . . Intimidator.” Katie threw her hands up to halt my apparent discomfort. “Have you talked to Mike yet?”

  “I sure did.” I really didn’t particularly care for this topic either.

  “So? Did you two lovers hammer out all the details?” Katie asked, unable to contain her amusement.

  “Oh, trust me. He hammered away,” I grumbled.

  Katie turned her head giggling, feeling my sarcasm.

  “Can you PLEASE keep the Mike-cracks to a minimum?” I pleaded. “I know it would be impossible for you to shut up completely.”

  Katie draped her arm around my shoulder. “Understood,” she agreed and then gave me a firm hug. “Oh!” she abruptly exclaimed, her eyes practically fluorescent. “I do have some gossip about the M-I-N-E.”

  I wouldn’t have to ask her to spill it. She looked like a balloon bursting to pop at any second.

  “The company that’s meeting with Mr. Riverside today is out of New York, but they have offices all over the world . . . Xcavare Enterprises,” Katie revealed. “Have you heard of them?”

  “No. Do they mine coal?” I asked curiously.

  “They mine everything,” Katie replied. “Graphite, gold, silver, lithium — anything they can turn a profit on.” She bounced her brow. “Even gemstones.”

  “Where did you hear this?” I quizzed.

  “I overheard Coach Hayes talking to some of the other teachers. He was trying to be secretive, but you can hear that loud mouth of his from the next flippin’ county. His brother works at the Mercer County Airport in Bluefield. He filled him in on who was due to arrive today according to their flight log. He also told him about three SUV’s that one of the car dealers in Bluefield dropped off at the airport last night. Xcavare Enterprises reserved them for a couple of weeks.” Katie leaned in closer. “They’re always featured in my mom and dad’s trade magazines. Some of the finest gemstones come from their mines. They’re truly spectacular. But the gemstone side of their business is merely a fraction of their overall mining operation.”

  “Impressive. Maybe you don’t need to go off to college after all? It sounds to me like you’re ready to run the shop all by yourself,” I teased.

  “Not hardly,” Katie groused. “But hey — That’s good news, right? They’re in the mining business.”

  She made a pretty good point. “I guess . . . but I’m still going over there at 3 o’clock,” I insisted.

  “Have it your way, but I don’t think there’s any need to stress about it,” Katie added, sounding equally as adamant. “You need to focus on more important things . . . like what colors you’ll choose for your wedding.” Katie quickly jumped up and ran off as the lunch bell blared through the cafeteria, leaving me reeling with the whip of her latest zinger. You could actually hear her giggles all the way to the door.

  “Don’t be surprised if I mistake your face for the basketball hoop next period,” I called out, lagging behind.

  As I strolled across campus towards the gym, I had to admit I felt a little more at ease. I just hoped everything at the mine stayed the same, no matter who ended up buying it. Daddy was the best foreman there. He couldn’t lose his job or even get demoted. He loved his shift and his crew. Surely Samuel’s job would be safe, too.

  Crap… Now I’m even more worried than before!

  I popped into the girls’ locker room to find Kara Leighton and Rebecca Caldwell already in there, whining about having to play basketball as usual. They felt their physical education would be better served by practicing their cheerleading moves during class. Most of the time Coach Hayes let them. Probably so he could ogle them while they worked on their flips and shook their asses.

  “Shiloh, do you really feel like playing basketball today?” Rebecca questioned as she combed her wavy brown hair back into a ponytail.

  I tightened my shoelaces with a firm tug. “I don’t mind.”

  “Come on, Shi,” Kara coaxed in a sticky-sweet voice. “Technically we aren’t getting that much aerobic activity from standing around waiting to shoot a stupid orange ball through a hoop.” Then she flashed me a smile, attempting to charm me into agreeing with her.

  I shook my head and gave my locker a firm slam. I wasn’t in the mood to be manipulated by our school’s most deceptively demanding diva and one of her sappy-sweet requests. She unfailingly got away with murder within the confines of our school and attempted every chance she got at the Sterling Drive-In. Hell, it was just last night when I’d got stuck cleaning up a huge mess that Coach Hayes’ heathen son had made out in one of the bays SHE was supposed to be covering. Apparently little Jeffery thought the parking lot was the perfect canvas for his “artwork”. Nothing like staying late because you have to hose down spilled strawberry milkshakes and scrubbing greasy food off the menu boards when the other server splits early, faking “cramps”. And how the little monster got ketchup and mustard on the floodlights twenty-feet in the air was beyond me!

  I bounced towards the door. “That act won’t work on me, Kara. Save it for Coach Hayes.” I stopped short of exiting and pointed in the direction of the gym. “He’s the idiot with the penis,” I replied and then shot her a sassy smirk.

  Coach Hayes was tooting his little silver whistle as I emerged from the locker room, warning us that we had about a minute left to fall into line. He wasn’t one of my favorite teachers, not by a long shot, and I detested the way he was always bellowing out my last name “WALLACE” like a drill sergeant. Trust me, it let me know his feelings were mutual. No matter where we were, be it at school, at the Drive-In, or anywhere else around our small-town, Coach Hayes never failed when it came to being a royal ass or pushing my buttons. And he was arrogant as all get-out too. Kind of like one of those jerks who think they’re still the star athlete in high school that all the guys idolize and all the gals long for in their dreams. I stood there watching him for a moment as he eyed his MVP college football ring, rotating it back and forth so the diamonds could bask under the gymnasium lights. I didn’t know which sight was more nauseating: his ritualistic gloating routine or him struggling to adjust the waist of his pants over that bulging potbelly of his. That was a toughie.

  A basketball abruptly hit my butt, whirling me around without delay. It was Katie.

  “Shi, I’ve called over to you THREE TIMES already. Are you still stressing about the mine?” Katie demanded.

  “No,” I groaned. “I was just watching Coach Hayes. You’d think he’d won a Super Bowl by the way he’s always fiddling with that ring. I think I hate that thing almost as much as his whistle.”

  “Yeah,” Katie giggled. “About that . . . He, umm, didn’t earn it.”

  “What?” I half-
gasped.

  Katie leaned closer. “Dad made it for him a few years ago, and you know how ole Ron is . . . He wanted to have the year engraved on it as a surprise, and since Coach Hayes never mentioned it specifically, Dad contacted Salem College to get it. That’s when he found out that our esteemed coach had been kicked off the team during his Sophomore year — for steroid use.”

  “That figures,” I giggled over the blare of the coach’s—correction—the con artist’s whistle. MVP — My ass!

  I rang out my ear. “I think I still hate that thing more,” I affirmed.

  “I can see him blowing it at Mrs. Hayes at home . . . to get her to um, perform,” Katie commented, twitching her brow.

  I gagged. “That’s sooo sick. Now how am I supposed to get that mental image out of my head?”

  “It’ll take your mind off the mine,” Katie giggled. She pointed over to the right side of the gymnasium. “Why are the mats down?” she questioned.

  I was wondering that myself. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’re about to find out.”

  Coach Hayes blew his noisy little peacekeeper one more time to summon the class. Everyone immediately gathered around in our usual half-circle formation.

  “Zip it people and listen up!” Coach Hayes barked. “Today we’re going to be wrestling on this side of the gym,” he said with an enthusiastic point toward the mats. Several of the girls let out a few sighs, expressing their discontent. “Don’t worry, ladies. You’ll be on the other side shootin’ hoops. You can’t participate with the fellas on this one.”

  Coach Hayes readied his cheeks and blew his whistle again, which sparked another disturbing visual image, courteously implanted by my BFF. Trying to put a lid on my giggles was impossible. Katie knew exactly what I was snickering about, which prompted a few chuckles of her own. Coach Hayes found no amusement in our behavior whatsoever. Straightaway, he blew the damn thing again…which made our giggles even worse.

  “WALLACE! STOWELL!” Coach Hayes growled. “What’s so funny that you two have to interrupt my class?”

  We both lowered our heads, still trying to muzzle our laughter. “Nothing,” we sang in unison.

  “WALLACE! Do you have a problem with the activities for today?” Coach Hayes charged, his voice laden with disgust.

  “No problem, Coach,” I insisted. “It just seems a little sexist,” I added brazenly, still miffed about the blind-eye he’d turned to his little monster’s creative antics last night. I thought a little provoking was in order.

  “Guys won’t be wrestling girls in MY GYM! Guys are stronger, a fact of nature . . . And I’m not havin’ anyone runnin’ to the office sayin’, ‘this one grabbed me here’, or ‘that one grabbed me there’!”

  “That’s not what I meant. Why can’t us girls wrestle other girls? You know, there are female wrestlers,” I rebutted.

  Several of the guys let out a few of their own chuckles. “NO!” Coach Hayes snapped. “Yeah right! Female wrestling . . . It’s an embarrassment to the sport!” He gave his irritating silver whistle one long, argument-ending blow and then strutted off like he’d just one a flippin’ coin toss.

  I stood there, arms crossed and eyes rolling at his chauvinistic remark. I should’ve hosed off more than just the parking lot last night!

  “Guys, head on over to the mats and ladies, line up and start shootin’,” Coach Hayes yelled and directed me to the other side of the gym with a flippant wave. “If it’s not too much of an inconvenience?”

  Humph… Touchy.

  Gym served as a decent distraction. For the next forty minutes, Katie and I stood around in-between shots and watched the guys wrestle. Mike Riverside pinned every one of his matched opponents. Katie even commented on his impressive strength and dexterity. I told her I’d overheard Chloe talking about how Mike loved watching any kind of contact-fighting sport on TV. A total UFC fanatic. He’d even taken her to a Strong-Man competition in Beckley last week on one of their dates. Though I had to admit, I couldn’t resist fantasizing a little about getting on the mat with him myself — and kicking his butt. I still didn’t think he was right for Chloe, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she ended up getting hurt. Even though we didn’t see eye-to-eye on pretty much everything, I was still protective of her — especially from cocky pricks like Mike Riverside.

  Ty pinned all of his challengers as well. I bet he would give Mike a good run for his money, I thought. Now there was something I would love to see. And I wouldn’t mind getting on the mat with him either — for different reasons, of course.

  Coach Hayes gave his whistle one final blow, signaling everyone to wrap it up and hit the locker rooms. I was changed and ready to head on over to my study hall just as soon as the sixth-period bell rang. Katie was our school’s yearbook editor, so she would be heading across campus to work on layouts.

  “Shi, why don’t you come and hang out in Mr. Scott’s room with the Annual Staff?” Katie pleaded. “We can pick out really bad pictures of people we can’t stand and place them in the mock-ups.”

  “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’m going to get a library pass and do some studying there,” I insisted.

  “Don’t you mean googling?” Katie countered.

  I smiled. She knew exactly what was on my agenda.

  “It’s spelled X-c-a-v-a-r-e,” Katie hollered back as she ran out of the gym.

  I whipped out a scrap piece of paper from my backpack and jotted it down in a flash. I was about to head off myself when I heard Coach Hayes bellow, “WALLACE! Wait right there!”

  I crumpled the paper in my hand. What NOW? I pressed the tip of my sneaker onto the floor, and then with a harsh “squeak”, whirled my unenthused body back around. “Yes?” I posed.

  “Say hello to Charlotte for me and thank her for all the hard work she’s put into the football boosters this year,” Coach Hayes requested. “Tell her it’s been a real treat working with her this season, and I hate it’s coming to an end,” he added with a strange twinkle in his eye and then strutted towards the door.

  His peculiar request bothered me just as much as the smirk plastered on his face. Coach Hayes never appreciated anything that didn’t light up a scoreboard, and I honestly didn’t know how the heck to process that fishy look. But something about it sure reeked.

  Still brooding, I strolled over to the side exit and started to push open the metal door when a strange, muffled sound stopped me dead in my tracks. A bit curious, I turned and began tracking the noise.

  I had its source located and my nosiness served with a nauseating answer within roughly three seconds. Two pairs of sneakers were wiggling around on the floor, sticking out from behind the stacked bleachers. I didn’t have to take a guess at what they were doing (not from the “shushes” I heard) nor wonder just whose feet were in them. Black Asics with white piping — Mike Riverside. White Nikes with brown and gold laces, the kind all the cheerleaders wore during sixth-period when they practiced — Chloe. A part of me wanted to charge over there and break them up, but the other realized she had to make her own choices — even the poor ones.

  Disgusted, I shook my head and threw open the door. My head was still down and firmly rocking from side to side when I ran into someone’s shoulder.

  “Are you tryin’ to knock me down, Shi?”

  Shocked by the familiarity of the voice, I jerked my head up. Chloe.

  “What are you doing here?” Crap… I’d mistakenly assumed it was her feet in those cheerleader sneakers.

  “Mom just checked me out of school, so we can pick up my dress and find one for you. You’re still going, AREN’T YOU?” Chloe badgered.

  The tips of my nails dug into my palms because my fists were clenched so tightly. “Oh, yeah. I’m really looking forward to it,” I replied, struggling to suppress my anger.

  “I—I was trying to catch Mike before I left, but he hasn’t answered any of my texts. Have you seen
him? Anywhere?” Chloe’s voice wasn’t the only thing shaky; she seemed downright fretful.

  My voice softened. “Is there anything wrong?” I asked sincerely. Chloe’s hazel eyes narrowed on the spot. She could tell I sensed something was up.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” my littler sister snapped, composing herself with a haughty glare. “I just wanted to see him before I left.”

  Chloe didn’t come across the least bit convincing. Who knows? Maybe she suspects something? I could lead her into the gym and confirm all of her insecure suspicions right now. I quickly pondered the ramifications. Con: She would be devastated. Pro: I wouldn’t have to go to the dance. Con: Mom would be a nightmare to live with. But most of all—some-freaking-how—I would catch ALL the blame, and Chloe would never forgive me.

  Kill the messenger — definitely a con, I silently sighed.

  “Is he in the gym? Did you see him in there?” Chloe asked anxiously.

  “I didn’t see him,” I fibbed. Just his shoes, I fumed quietly, knowing a partial lie was still a lie.

  “Well if you do, tell him I was looking for him — You promise?” Chloe demanded and shored up her request with a swift point of her finger like she was ordering around a toddler.

  “I promise. If I see him, I’ll give him a message . . . I mean, your message.” At least that was true. I fully planned on giving him an earful. In fact, both of my fists were itching to give him a couple of eyefuls as well. And the fantasies my kneecaps were entertaining right now were downright merciless.

  “I’m off,” Chloe declared as she strutted towards the parking lot.

  “Don’t you dare come home with something slutty!” I warned, still apprehensive about her so-called taste in fashion.

  My little sister didn’t turn around. She merely waved her hand in the air to acknowledge my request. I watched as she hopped into Charlotte’s white Cadillac and drove out of sight. At least I don’t have to worry about taking Chloe home. I can leave for the meeting right after seventh-period.

  After securing a pass from my study hall, I made my way back across the courtyard to the building that housed all the English and foreign languages classes, as well as our school’s library.

  It was a little more crowded than usual, but fortunately there was one computer open in the back corner. I dug my Welch High School ID out of my backpack and then after one quick swipe, I was officially logged in and ready to start surfing.

  I typed in X-c-a-v-a-r-e E-n-t-e-r-p-r-i-s-e-s. That yielded more info than I could ever imagine. I discovered that the family business had been around for over 150 years. The current owner was a man named, Malachi Xcavare, but his son, Lazarus Xcavare, ran the company for him. Katie was right. They appeared to mine everything—graphite, lithium, gold, silver, gemstones—and the list went on and on. I found an article claiming they had been searching for a coal mine to purchase for the past several months, but the spokesman stated they hadn’t found the “right match” for their company as of yet. Another article talked about how they had stumbled upon a rare reserve of platinum near one of their gold mines out west.

  Maybe this will be a good thing? I couldn’t find one bad write-up about them. They seem reputable…

  Just then, an article popped up to my dismay. The headline caught my eye.