He searched my face for acquiescence, and I knew if I didn’t give in, he’d keep talking, keep saying the same shit that was tearing at my heart. He was worried, I got that. It was no secret that deep emotion could trigger a flare or make me more vulnerable to getting seriously sick. He and my mom thought that if my heart broke, it would put me at risk.
So I swallowed hard, gave a curt nod and stalked out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom, where I could be alone with my stubbornly-unshattered dreams.
***
My mood didn’t improve the next day. What my father had said lingered in my head, making me both angry and miserable at the same time. I avoided seeing Quinn, which was something I never did, and missing her only made me feel worse.
At lunch, I ignored the cafeteria and instead went outside, planning to spend the forty-five-minute period on one of the more remote benches that were scattered here and there on the school’s lawn. I shivered as the autumn wind blew down the collar of my T-shirt and kicked myself for not grabbing my jacket before I left the building.
I’d just spotted an empty seat—and in the sun, no less—when Leo came loping across the grass, heading from the student parking lot toward the side doors of the school. He didn’t see me at first; he had his head down and was wearing dark sunglasses. But when he did notice me, his steps slowed, and he paused just short of the sidewalk.
“Hey, Nate. Everything okay?”
“Maybe I should be asking you that. Where were you?” I nodded toward the parking lot. “You’re sort of late.”
“Yeah, sort of.” He laughed once, kind of a harsh bark, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Late night, so I slept in a little. I didn’t have anything pressing in class this morning, anyway.”
I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I was so fucking fed up with him. So angry for reasons that he probably wouldn’t begin to understand. “Oh, yeah? Last I heard, all our classes require attendance. That’s not optional in high school. At least, it isn’t for most of us. Maybe for the great Leo the Lion, the teachers make exceptions.” I couldn’t keep the snarl from creeping into my tone.
“What’s wrong with you? Who pissed in your cereal?” He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at me. “Did I do something that I don’t remember? Did I miss someone’s birthday or something? Because you and Quinn have both had bugs up your asses.”
“Nice of you to notice, Leo. You must’ve been a real dick to her yesterday, you know? Quinn was pretty upset after school when I walked her home.”
He pulled off the sunglasses, and I could see his bloodshot eyes were narrowed. “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who’s causing all the shit with my friends, and then I stand up for her, and she ends up yelling at me. Saying I don’t even know her anymore. I don’t know what she expects from me. God, I don’t know what either of you want. It’s like you want to punish me for having other friends. For playing football. For having a goddamn life.”
“You know what, Leo? Keep your fucking friends, your football and your life. Quinn and I don’t need you. We have each other.”
Leo’s lips thinned into a tight line. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Come to think of it, Nate, maybe you should be thanking me instead of giving me hell. If Quinn’s so mad at me, that just makes more room for you, doesn’t it? You’ll finally have her all to yourself, which is what you’ve always wanted.”
He was so close to the truth, so dangerously near to saying exactly what I was feeling, that my palms began to sweat with both fury and nerves. “At least I’d be smart enough to hold onto her if—if I ever got that chance. I’d never throw away her friendship.”
Leo ran a hand through his short hair, making a low noise under his breath. It sounded almost like a growl. “I haven’t thrown away anything. I just—it’s better for her if I don’t spend too much time with her. Quinn’s not like the other girls around here, and the chicks who hang around the football team would eat her alive.” His lips curled. “If she doesn’t stop writing stupid shit about them in the newspaper, that’s going to happen anyway. She’s making it so the whole school hates her. They all think she’s some uptight—” He was going to say something else but broke off. “I just want her to stop and think before she ends up with no friends at all.”
“That’s not going to happen, because I’ll always be there for her. That’s what real friends do. So if you can’t be that kind of friend, Leo, to both Quinn and me, just stay the hell away from us.”
“Are you sure that’s what Quinn wants from me?” His jaw tensed. “Because I’d disagree. I think Quinn wants . . . even more than friendship. That’s the real issue here, isn’t it? It’s eating you up because even when we’re fighting about something, she still wants me more than she’ll ever want you.” He leaned closer to me, dropping his voice into an intense whisper. “And even if she did go out with you, you’d never really know if she liked you for real or if was just . . . pity.”
My hands curled into fists, and I wanted to hit him. God, I wanted to knock him down on his smug ass, but even with my blood boiling, I was smart enough to know that wouldn’t end well. I was fairly sure Leo would never hit me back, but I also knew I’d be more likely to hurt myself than him if I threw a punch.
Before I could make up my mind, he jammed the glasses back on his face and stalked away, opening the metal door to the school with so much force that it banged against the brick wall as he disappeared into the building.
I stood still for a moment, still too mad to move. All of the jealousy I’d harbored against Leo—years and years of it—surged through my blood, and God, just for one day, I wanted the ability to take off after him, grab him by the arm, spin him around to face me and then pound that arrogant expression off his face. Most of the time, I didn’t let what I couldn’t do bother me. It was pointless to wish for things that were never going to be. But I’d have given a year of my life to change my body at that moment.
Instead, I did the smarter thing, just like I always did. I found my bench, sat down, and willed my heart to stop pounding. I forced my mind onto something completely unrelated to Leo or Quinn, working out complicated equations in my head. By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, I didn’t feel any better but I was calmer.
I stood up, ignoring the stiffness in my hips, and followed the same path Leo had taken into the school. Both my locker and my first afternoon class were at this end of the building, and I’d learned long ago to plot out any short cuts I could find.
Because I was moving slowly, the hallways were almost empty as I trudged down a short corridor that linked the two wider passages. I’d just turned in front of the steps that led down to the gym when I heard the voice.
“Hey, gimp.”
My heart beat sped up. I knew who was talking without even looking up, because it was the same person who’d been torturing me in one way or another since junior high. Brent Collins had taken a special and vicious dislike to me early on, and I wished I could say I had no idea why. But in this case, I’d started it. We’d had math together in eighth grade, and when Brent had made a stupid mistake in front of the whole class, I’d been only too happy to point it out, making him look bad. Those had been the days when I’d channeled all my physical frustration into humiliating my classmates intellectually whenever I could. Unfortunately, some of them hadn’t forgotten the embarrassment.
“Running late today? Oh, shit, I forgot, you don’t run anywhere, do you?” He came at me from the back, but I didn’t turn around. Wildly, I tried to figure out the nearest classroom I could duck into.
“’Sup, Collins?”
I risked a glance up, hoping to see someone—anyone—who might distract Brent long enough for me to get away. But of course, I couldn’t catch a break—the two guys who’d wandered our way were Brent’s buddies, Karl Hays and Tim Stewart. All three of them were linebackers on the football team, big hulking boys who were probably more accurately described as men now.
&
nbsp; “Not much.” Brent grinned and held out a fist to be pounded. “Gimp here’s having trouble keeping up. I was just gonna give him a hand.” The glee in his voice was unmistakable, and my earlier mad boiled back to the surface.
“Just leave me the fuck alone.”
All three of them hooted with laughter. “Oooooh, gimp’s got a gutter mouth now, huh? Dude, we’re just trying to give you a hand.” Karl shoved at my back, sending me skittering as I tried to keep my balance.
“Yeah. You just stand still, and we’ll push you along the floor. Help you get to class on time, huh? You don’t want to be late, right? You’re a brain, aren’t you? Smarter than the rest of us. So you know if I give you a decent kick in that direction, you’re gonna end up getting to class faster. Huh?”
“Tim’s a decent punter. Did you see the distance he got a few weeks back?”
Karl laughed. “Yeah, he’s good. I don’t want to see a lot of his work, you know? But nice to know we have him when we’re in need, am I right?”
All three of them grunted in what I assumed was agreement, and I took advantage of their distraction. I began to move away slowly, focusing on the closed door across the hallway.
“Hey, gimp, where d’you think you’re going? We were talking with you.” Tim stood with his hands on hips, blocking my way. “That’s rude. You don’t just leave when your bros are shootin’ the shit with you.”
“Hell, yeah. That’s rude.” Karl echoed the sentiment.
I could feel my face getting redder, and my lungs were tight. Panic was making it harder to breathe. I reeled forward, almost falling into Tim’s massive chest.
“Whoa, bud. What’s the matter? You wasted or something? You walk like you are. Not cool, man. Personal space and all.” Tim gave me a shove, the kind that a normal guy would be able to absorb. But for me, already off-kilter, that kind of force made me stumble backward into Karl.
The good news was that thanks to his tree trunk-like body, I didn’t end up on the floor. The bad news was that he didn’t exactly catch me so much as he pushed me away, making the situation even worse. I was basically a helpless body in motion, with no way to stop as long as they kept playing with me.
“Dude! Three way. Send him to me.” Brent wiggled his fingers as though he was cajoling them into tossing him a ball. Karl chortled, gripped my upper shoulders with his vice-like fingers and threw me toward Brent.
I probably would’ve been all right. Even at that point, with the three of them playing monkey in the middle and using me a human football, I was pretty sure they’d get bored in a few minutes, or a teacher would hear the commotion and stick his head out the door of a classroom to shout a warning. I just had to get through it.
But just as Karl sent me toward Brent, we all heard a fourth voice come from the other direction, down the hall.
“Hey! What the fuck?”
It was Leo, and judging by his tone, he was pissed. Still mad at me? I wasn’t sure and frankly didn’t care. What did matter to me was the fact that when he yelled, Brent looked up at him, an expression of oh-shit on his face, and neatly sidestepped me.
Again, that still wouldn’t have been the end of the world. I might’ve ended up sprawled on the tile floor, my book flying away from my hand, and they probably would’ve jeered and teased more . . . but that would’ve been the end of it. Humiliation wasn’t fun, but it didn’t break bones.
But Brent was standing at the top of the short flight of steps that led down into the gym. I’d hated those steps since we’d started high school, because getting down them was awkward and embarrassing for me. There was a ramp alongside them, but more often than not, people stood there chatting, blocking my way, and having to push past was almost worse than navigating the steps. I was lucky that the rest of the school was on one-level, but still . . . I detested that staircase.
And now I was getting an up-close and personal look at my nemesis as I pitched down them headfirst.
Panic flooded me, even as I flailed my arms to grab for anything that might slow me down. But the fear didn’t last long, because the side of my head banged hard into one of the iron posts that supported the middle railing, and after a cruel, sharp knife of pain, everything went dark and silent.
Leo
Up until junior year of high school, I’d been pretty good about limiting my partying to Friday and Saturday nights. During football season, of course, Coach was strict about us sticking to a curfew during the week leading up to a Friday night or Saturday afternoon game. But there were ways around that, and I’d become an expert in figuring out those ways.
This week, we were playing on Saturday, which meant no one was too worried about Thursday night. I used the excuse of a history group project meeting to convince my parents I needed to be out. In the interest of maintaining plausibility, I did go to the meeting, made some contributions . . . and then when it ended, I headed over to Matt’s house.
Matt Lampert and I had been buddies for years. Not close friends, like Nate and Quinn and me, but more casual—the way only boys seem to be able to manage. We didn’t have deep conversations, but we played baseball or soccer or football together—pick-up games, usually—and joked around, like pals do.
When we’d started high school, we’d both made the football team. Matt played quarterback for our freshman squad, and I started out as a halfback, until the end of the year, when Coach noticed my speed and moved me to wide receiver. The varsity quarterback was young, only a year ahead of us, which meant Matt was stuck in JV. On the other hand, they were down receivers, which meant I got bumped up to varsity as a sophomore.
Matt had spent a lot of time grousing about the situation, but we’d worked together, both in regular practice and on our own time, so that when the varsity quarterback, Cole Hampton, was hurt toward the end of the season that year, Matt was able to take over. Since then, we’d been a fairly unstoppable duo, breaking a couple of county records already this year.
Matt was nicknamed Houdini, thanks to his ability to get out of any tight situation on the field, and I’d been labeled the Lion, which I knew came from my name more than any resemblance to that animal. That name had stuck after I’d made my third touchdown in one game and out of pure adrenaline-fueled glee, had let out a primal roar. Now the cheerleaders had made up a special cheer that ended in something like, “We want to hear our lion ROAR!” It was embarrassing as all hell, but then again . . . I wasn’t going to complain.
Matter of fact, I really had nothing to complain about. Being one of the school’s football stars meant I got away with all kinds of shit and had girls throwing themselves at me every weekend. Matt and I were enjoying ourselves for sure, living the high life, as he put it. And even though we still didn’t have deep conversations or anything like that, I definitely considered him more than just a buddy.
We hung out at his house most of the time. Matt had, as my mother wryly put it, a unique family situation. Neither of his parents were in the picture; he’d told me when we were in elementary school that his mom and dad had “checked out” when he was pretty young. I learned later that he’d never really known his dad, and that his mother was a hard-core drug addict. Matt’s grandparents had custody of him, which sounded like a good thing—and it was, mostly. They were nice people, but they weren’t around much. Matt’s grandfather was active in state politics, and his grandmother did a lot of charity work. By the time we were in high school, they were gone more than they were home, which worked out okay for us. Matt had the use of their huge house on the edge of town, with access to a fully-stocked liquor cabinet. There was a housekeeper who lived in, but as long as we didn’t get too rowdy, she stayed in her room and let us do what we wanted.
So on that Thursday night after study group ended, I’d texted my mom that I had to review some plays with Matt and then I’d driven over to his house, where we’d played Madden and drunk beer and done shots until after midnight. It was what I’d needed after that afternoon, with Quinn. What she’d said when s
he’d lashed out . . . it had struck a nerve. Her words had made me think about how I felt about both Nate and her, but mostly about Quinn herself. Part of me had been banking on the belief that I could hold onto her, keep her in reserve, I guessed. I’d been telling myself all along that I didn’t want her as anything more than a friend, but now it felt like that was a lie. I wasn’t ready to think about that too deeply yet.
Getting drunk with Matt was the perfect way to drive both Quinn and what she’d said out of my brain. But I knew better than to drive home when I was wasted, so I’d walked the couple of miles instead, staggering through the pitch black and cursing myself for forgetting my jacket.
Once I got home, the house was silent, with both my parents asleep. I’d fallen into bed fully dressed, forgetting to set my alarm, which was why I hadn’t opened my eyes until ten-thirty this morning. My mom and dad were already at work; being the last kid in the house meant that they had high expectations of my ability to get myself up and out to school every day. I’d jogged back over to Matt’s, stopping to toss my cookies along the way, and then driven my car back home before I got ready for school.
I figured I’d slide in at lunch and get through the rest of the afternoon, just hoping that none of my teachers from the morning classes reported my absence to the office—yet. I could deal with a detention or whatever on Monday. Hell, I’d probably be able to talk my mother around to writing me a note of excuse if I explained I’d just overslept. But in order to play in the game the next day, I was required to be in school all day on Friday, unless I had a valid reason for missing.
Nabbing a spot in the front of the lot—most of the juniors and seniors left campus over lunch, making their parking places fair game—I made my way across the grass toward the side doors. I had gym right after lunch, and the way I figured it, I had time to go to my locker, stop at the cafeteria to make an appearance with my friends and still make it back in time for PE.
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 10
