by C. S. Harte
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Kayla said.
The Ginger Brothers walked in with mischievous grins. “Whatcha doing, Kayla?” Mark asked.
Evan hid something behind his back.
Kayla arched a brow. “Reading, can’t you see? What do you want?”
“Oh, yeah. Stupid question. Anyway, Evan and I were playing in the backyard near the pond and found something cool. Do you want to see?”
“Nope. Please get out.” Kayla turned her head away from them, hoping they would get the message to leave her alone.
“Aww. You ain’t curious?” Mark asked. His question paired with a subtle snicker.
“I said no,” Kayla said through gritted teeth. She’s seen this before in her previous foster homes. When young pre-teen boys become bored, they find entertainment by looking to hurt others.
“Easy, Kayla. We’ll leave.” Mark turned around and winked at Evan.
In a quick motion, Evan threw the item he was holding behind his back onto Kayla’s bed. It landed on the half where Kayla wasn’t sitting. A bucket of live, black scorpions. None of the clawed monsters spilled out during the throw, but they seemed eager to escape and disperse all over the bed.
Evan and Mark ran out of the room before she could process what she was seeing. Their laughter echoed down the hall.
After the initial shock, Kayla let out a loud, frightful scream. She pulled her arms around her chest in a defensive posture. The door to her bedroom slammed closed.
Charlie, in full guardian-mode, jumped onto the bed between Kayla and the scorpions. He lowered his head and snarled baring every incisor. Some of the arachnids were brazen enough to ignore Charlie’s warnings and dashed towards him. He fearlessly swiped away at any that came near.
Tommy heard Kayla’s scream from his bedroom and ran towards her. “Kayla!” He tried to open the door, but couldn’t. His fist frantically hammering the door in fear. “KAYLA!” Each pound more powerful than the last. “Open the door! What’s wrong?”
Tommy took a few steps back and paced in a circle with his hands covering his head. The screams and barking from behind the door disappeared. Tommy’s eyes widened. “Kayla, I need you to get away from the door!” He lowered his shoulder.
“One,” he whispered to himself as he dug his feet into the floor.
“Two,” He clenched his jaw. The tendons in his neck leaped into view.
“Three.” Without further hesitation, he launched his body at Kayla’s bedroom door.
The door opened from the other side. Tommy was already in mid-flight. He staggered over the threshold, tripped on his own feet, and landed flat on his belly. His wrists and chin took the brunt of the fall. He grunted as he lifted his head. “What’s wrong? You OK?” A scorpion crawled onto his hand. Tommy shrieked and pulled his hand away. He jumped and frantically stomped at the scorpions.
Charlie had already chased the scorpions from Kayla’s bed. He placed his head on her lap and licked her fingers.
After squishing what seemed like an army of scorpions, Tommy turned his attention towards Kayla. He walked to her side of the bed and rested a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react. He bent over and wrapped her in a hug.
His warmth enveloped her like a heated blanket. Color returned to her face. Her breathing steadied. Kayla’s fingers unraveled from her locket. It left an impression in her hand.
Tommy rested his chin on the crown of her head. “Are you OK? Did the Ginger Twins do this?”
“I’m fine now. Charlie saved me. And you too, of course.” She stopped herself from blaming them. There’s no point. Boys get away with whatever they want.
He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’re lying to me. I’m on your side.”
“Thank you.” She patted the side of her bed.
Tommy accepted the invitation to sit. “Do you know why your door was locked?”
“Was it locked? Sometimes, when the central air system turns on, it closes my door. I guess it jammed.”
He scratched his jaw. “Right. Sure. This is kinda an old house.” He pointed to a carcass on the floorboards. “Rhino scorpions. They're common here. I don’t recall them being venomous, but they do sting a bit.” Tommy got off Kayla’s bed and looked around the room for rebel scorpions. “Don’t see any more. You should be safe.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.
She didn’t brush him away.
His fingers began to squeeze and rub.
Kayla closed her eyes.
He traveled from her shoulders to her neck and then down her spine. Adding his palms at times to vary the sensation. She wasn’t ready for more. They've only known each other a few weeks.
3
It was the first day of school at Wolf Creek High. Kayla's third school in three years. She had hoped to get into the same school as Tommy, but administrative bureaucracy got in the way. The summer spent with him, minus the scorpion incident were some of the best months of her life. He was funny, charming, and cute — everything a girl could want.
Kayla spent first period in the school administrator's office, filling out paperwork and talking to Mr. Diaz, her guidance counselor. After 40 minutes of answering questions and signing forms, Kayla was assigned a homeroom and ready to begin classes.
A loud ringing sound echoed throughout the building. In near synchronized fashion, every classroom door flew open. Students poured into the hallways.
Kayla ignored the other students and focused on finding her next classroom.
A tall pimply-faced boy with a slightly off-centered nose and broad shoulders entered her field of vision. He was too massive to ignore. She made eye contact with him as he walked towards her. He smiled. Kayla’s cheeks flushed. She smiled back. “Nice outfit,” He grinned.
“Um, thanks?” Kayla replied with raised eyebrows. She recognized that mischievous grin. Kayla has seen more than her fair share this past summer but was unsure of his intentions. She wrapped her arms around herself and took a step away from him.
Unbeknownst to Kayla, an associate of this adult-bodied person with the face of a child was standing behind her.
“Oh, don’t be afraid of me. Worry about the guy behind you!” The pimply-faced boy laughed and pointed behind her. The hidden accomplice was holding a large red slushy in his hand. As soon as Kayla turned around, he dumped the entire cup of icy, sugary food coloring onto her white t-shirt. Her chest, bra included, now visible to the world.
Kayla froze in place. Both from the shock of being violated and from the frigid temperature of the slushy.
Everyone in the vicinity roared into laughter, fingers pointed at her slushy-drenched chest.
“Did your grandmother give you that bra?” some girl asked.
Kayla tried to cover herself with her arms. The damage had already been done. Less than one hour into her first day at a new school, she was officially christened the New Loser. I want to die.
Mercy came in the form of Mr. Diaz. “Everyone has one minute to get to class or y’all gonna get detention! I’m NOT gonna repeat myself!” He turned to Kayla. “You okay, sweetie?”
Kayla nodded, unsure of how else to respond. Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, mentally — everything hurt.
“Do you want to file a report?”
She shook her head. The bullies will just get away with it.
“I’ll help her get cleaned up and find her next class, Mr. Diaz,” a young blonde girl said from behind Kayla.
Kayla turned around to see a familiar set of gorgeous blue eyes. She was at Mrs. Martinez’s office last June.
“OK, Izzy. She’s in room 205 with Mr. Caciopoli. Same as yours.” Mr. Diaz walked away towards his office seemingly preoccupied with other matters.
They made their way to the nearest bathroom. “Remember me, from Mrs. Martinez’s office? I never caught your name. I’m Isabelle, but everyone calls me Izzy.” She tore off several paper towel sheets.
Kayla took the sheets and di
d her best to dry herself. “I’m Kayla. Thanks for offering to help me, but I’m kinda radioactive right now. You probably don’t want to be seen around me.” Her voiced reeked of self-loathing.
“I wouldn’t be too worried about what happened today. So what if people saw your granny bra? You have a killer body. You should wear tighter clothes in my opinion,” Izzy winked.
Kayla wanted to hug this girl, but she was also suspicious of her niceness. “Why are you helping me? Why are you being nice to me?”
Izzy gave Kayla a puzzled look. She grabbed Kayla’s arm and linked it with hers. They started walking towards class. “A few reasons, I guess. One, you seem nice. Two, I hate seeing people get bullied. Three, you’re an orphan like me. You wouldn’t have been at the CPS office otherwise. And um, four, we need more people to join our soccer team.”
Kayla laughed at the last reason. The answers seemed sincere to her.
“We have practice right after school. Just come for one practice and see if you like it. That’s all I ask.”
“This might be fate, but I love soccer. My mom made me play it when I was a kid and when my previous foster parents didn't feel like parenting, they would leave me at a park with a soccer ball and a gallon of water.”
Izzy gave Kayla a horrified look and squeezed Kayla’s arm. “That sucks. I guess it could work out if you make the team. We’ll hang out a lot. Meet me in the locker room — it's on the left side of the gym.”
Kayla allowed herself to relax around Izzy, she represented the first real opportunity to be part of a team. For most of Kayla’s life, she was a loner, but not by choice. No one ever asked Kayla to be part of a group. “OK, I’ll see you after classes.”
4
“Do I get my own locker?” Kayla stared at the rows of lockers in front of her.
“Once you make the team, of course,” Izzy replied. She grabbed a practice uniform from the pile on the table in front of them. “You’re a size 6? Medium? Size 9 shoe?”
Kayla nodded and took the uniform from Izzy.
“Let’s get changed. We have to be out on the field soon.”
“I’ve wanted to ask you something,” Kayla said with a shirt over her head.
“About me being adopted?”
“Well…yes. Sorry if it’s too personal.”
“No, it’s ok. We orphans have to stick together,” Izzy laced her shin guards and put them on. “I was two years old when my parents died in a car accident. So, I don’t have much memory of my biological parents. The Sanders, my adopted parents — my real parents as far as I’m concerned — adopted me a year later. Honestly, they’ve been great. They don’t let me get away with too much BS. I get pretty much everything I ask for, especially if I keep bringing back A’s on my report card. ‘Quid pro quo,’ they always say. We live in an amazing house —" Izzy stopped mid-sentence and moved closer to Kayla, who was staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to come across as bragging.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Sorry to hear about your biological parents. Please, keep going.”
The sound of a sharp whistle came through the locker room windows.
“That’s coach. We can talk later. Let’s get on the field, or he'll make us run extra laps.”
“Coach, this is Kayla. She’s the new girl I was telling you about.”
Kayla extended her hand to the darkly tanned mountain of a man.
Coach Mitchell welcomed her with a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Kayla. Izzy says you played soccer before? What position?”
“I’ve played striker and midfielder.”
“That’s good. Experience is always good. I haven’t decided on who plays what position yet. We’re going to do some drills and skill tests today to get an inventory of what we have. Stick with Izzy. She’ll show you the ropes.”
He blew his whistle, calling the team over to give a short motivational speech for the new season. He divided the team into groups with Izzy, Kayla, Laura, and Christy in one group. The first drill was a speed and accuracy test. They had to run around three cones to simulate zig-zagging through opposing defenses and kick the ball into the goal past a water cooler acting as a goalie. Each member had five attempts at the goal. Kayla and Izzy were the only ones to make all five shots.
The next test focused on leg strength. The girls had to see how far they could kick the ball down field. Five balls were placed in the goal box where the goalie typically stands. Izzy effortlessly cleared the midfield line. Laura and Christy went next. Their kicks were much shorter, stopping before midfield.
Kayla went last. For as long as she could remember, her kicks have always been weak. She would be lucky if the ball landed near the center line and rolled forward. Kayla approached the first ball. She could feel her knees trembling.
Please go far. Please go far. Please, please go far.
“C’mon Kayla! Woo!” Izzy cheered.
Kayla stepped back to get a running start.
She shanked the first kick wide left.
“That doesn’t count!” Kayla laughed.
“It’s OK, Kayla! You’ve got four more,” Izzy said. Her voice was loud and encouraging.
Kayla closed her eyes, unconsciously grabbing her mother’s heart-shaped locket. She tried to calm her nerves by taking three deep breaths before the second kick.
Breathe
Breathe
Breathe
She took two steps back.
She struck the ball square this time, rocketing it into the sky. It landed in the other goal box.
Everyone watching went quiet. Jaws dropped. The whistle in Coach Mitchell's mouth fell out.
Kayla was as shocked as everyone else. Never had she kicked a ball so far before. She knew she struck the ball square and hard, but it didn’t feel like it was the strongest kick of her life.
I could probably kick it harder.
She moved behind ball number three.
Two steps back. Then a sprint forward.
A booming sound came as she made contact with the soccer ball. The kick again was true, and the ball flew higher and landed farther than the previous attempt. The momentum of the ball pushed it into the goal.
“Wow, Kayla! You’re awesome!” Izzy screamed. “Coach, I think we found our second striker to play opposite me.”
Coach Mitchell whispered to himself, “State championships, here we come.” He walked over to Kayla. “You made that look so easy. Can you kick it further if you tried? This time, try not to kick it so high.”
“Sure, coach.”
Kayla delivered another booming kick. This time a lower line drive kick, from goal box to goal box.
At this point, everyone on the field was staring. They’d never seen leg strength like this before.
Coach Mitchell ran up to Kayla and gave her a bear hug. “Congratulations! You’re our new striker.”
The other members of the team ran to congratulate Kayla.
“I’m so glad I found you,” Izzy said.
As amazed as everyone was at Kayla’s display of talent, Kayla was the most surprised. She’d never demonstrated this kind of strength before, not even close. Just as notably, she’d never had people cheer for her. A warmth radiated from her stomach. For a brief moment, the sounds around her became slowed, slurred. Her heart drummed to a slower beat, matching the pace of a stilling world. A smile etched onto her face.
Izzy tapped Kayla’s shoulder. “OK, superstar. Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. We still have to work on plays and chemistry.” She pointed to the red SUV across the field next to a woman waving at them. “That’s my mom. We need to get changed and go.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sanders, for driving me home.”
“It’s no problem, honey.” Mrs. Sanders said with a smile visible to Kayla from the rearview mirror. She turned the radio on for the drive home.
The music was loud enough for Izzy and Kayla to talk privately in the back seat.
Izzy held Kayla’s hand. “I want t
o apologize for something.”
“For what?”
“Going back to our locker room talk before your display of superhuman strength. I didn’t mean to come off as entitled. I know I’m lucky by winning the adoptive parent lottery,”
Kayla stared at Izzy. If she only knew.
“I’ve known people who are less fortunate than me and bounced around from home to home. You seem so well-adjusted, I didn't think you'd be one of them--”
Kayla ripped her hand back from Izzy. A sore spot opened. She turned her head away, avoiding eye contact. “I’m a bouncer if that’s what you want to call it. I’ve had some horrible foster parents. Things aren’t perfect, but it was light years better than before. At least, so far. You don’t have to apologize for that. You weren’t the ones who decided to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence out loud. Abuse or hit me. Or allow me to starve.
It may have been invisible, but there was a barrier separating Izzy and Kayla. Izzy eyed Kayla, her lips slowly parted. Only silence escaped before she resealed them.
Today had been a rollercoaster day for Kayla. Her shirt was still slushy-stained, and her skin still sticky with sweat and glory. As they neared her house, Kayla stared at Izzy, capturing her tired face against the orange horizon. Izzy was when the ride became fun. She was the memento they sold you at an amusement park exit, the reminder of the happiness you felt. Kayla was emotionally mature enough to understand this and smiled at Izzy. “Thanks for the ride and everything you did for me today. I can’t wait for you to meet my dog, Charlie. He’s my best friend and the single most important thing in my life. And for you to meet Tommy — not a dog.”
Izzy pressed her palm to her heart, exhaled and returned Kayla’s smile. “Aww, no thanks needed. I would love to meet Charlie and your non-dog Tommy.”
5
Even with the slushy setback to start the semester, the first two months of school had been far better than previous years. She had friends who shielded her from bullies. She had Izzy, a sister she never knew existed. And she also had Tommy. Though not officially a boyfriend, they spent most nights together talking and laughing, other times in silence, content to be in each other’s company.