The Red Zone (A Big Play Novel Book 2)

by Jordan Ford

  Why?

  No, I don’t want to answer that question, which means I should seriously stop playing this game.

  Retaliating, although fun, has obviously pleased him. And as handsome as his face is in this light—the curve of his lip at the corner, the way his chin dimple pops in and out of place while his square-cut jaw flexes—I should really back off now or…

  “So, do you come here often?”

  The soft question jerks me around and I find myself face-to-face with a tomboy wearing the best smirk I’ve ever seen. It’s like she was born to do it or something. How to make smirking look good by Samantha Carmichael.

  She’s straddling a beat-up looking BMX, her long hair pulled into a messy braid over her shoulder. A tatty baseball cap is backwards on her head, and her ripped jeans and scuffed Converse have my lips forming a smirk of their own.

  “Sam, right? We’re neighbors at the moment.”

  “That we are.” She sticks out her hand. “We haven’t officially met yet, but if you’re the chick responsible for the whistle in Mack-Attack’s exhaust pipe, then I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  An instant grin pops my lips wide. I reach for her hand and give it a firm shake. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  She points into the parking area. “I think anyone leaving school right now enjoyed it.”

  I peek over my shoulder and watch the mix of gazes aimed at the football boys. Anderson and his crew are snickering behind their hands while some of the cheer girls bustle through the crowd to try to find out what’s going on.

  “So, where’d you come up with the idea?” Sammy grips the handlebars as I spin back to face her.

  “Oh, that?” I point over my shoulder with my thumb. “One of my brothers did it to his most despised teacher a couple of years ago.”

  Sammy laughs—a low, husky chuckle. “That’s savage. I like him already.”

  A swift breeze whistles between us, blowing a clump of hair into my face. I tuck the locks behind my ear and pull the loose strands off my lips. They feel kind of dry, no doubt missing the gloss they’ve grown accustomed to over the last few years. In a bid to make a dramatic change, I’m going makeup free. It’s taking a major adjustment on my part, but I can’t bend. I came here to be someone different. I’m not allowed to be anal about my appearance anymore. Basically I’m avoiding the mirror at all costs. And that’s a huge deal, believe me.

  “So, what are you going to do next?” Sammy’s question distracts me.

  “I guess I kind of have to wait for him to get me back first.”

  Sammy nods. “He won’t take long.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I shrug.

  Sammy’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes my expression. “You’ve had experience with guys like him before, haven’t you?”

  I flash her a quick look of warning, which she picks up immediately. Perceptive girl.

  Her brow crinkles before she shows off her smirk again. “To be honest, I really couldn’t give a shit what your deal is, but I do love the idea of guys who think they’re all that getting pranked. If you need any ideas, or help, count me in.”

  “Really?” I cross my arms and tip my head to study her.

  She chuckles. “I’m always up for that kind of thing. In fact, if you really want to make an impression, I’ve got a great idea.”

  A smile tugs at my lips, and against my better judgment I lean forward and ask, “What are you thinking?”

  #11:

  Cupcake, Anyone?

  Mack

  Before I started my first year at Nelson Middle School, my dad gave me a piece of advice: Get in good with the office staff and the janitor. You treat them well and they’ll help you out whenever you need it. So I took it onboard…and that is why I am able to respond to Kaija’s whistle prank so swiftly.

  “Thanks so much, Larry.” I pat the janitor on the shoulder as he opens Kaija’s locker.

  “Just make sure you’re done before anyone gets here,” he grumbles.

  I look at my watch. “School doesn’t start for an hour. I should be good.”

  “And this has to be the last time, Mahoney. You’re just lucky she didn’t question how you got into her locker last time.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. This’ll be the last locker one, I promise.”

  Larry’s beady brown eyes stare me down. “You sure you want to be doing this? There’s better ways to get a girl’s attention, you know? Your dad won over your mother in more ordinary ways, if you get my drift.”

  I grin. “This girl is anything but ordinary. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

  “Hmmmm.” He gives me a reluctant nod before walking off, his shoes squeaking on the polished floor while the keys on his belt jangle a tune.

  Yanking the stuff out of my backpack, I quickly set to work.

  Forty-five minutes later, I ease Kaija’s locker closed, then hurry down the hall to wait for her. Taking up my post like I did last time, I watch her stroll down the hall, chatting with Anderson. As usual, he’s prattling on about something. Kaija’s eyes tighten at the corners and her lips form a closed-mouth smile. She looks around, pursing her lips and nodding. Man, she’s so beautiful. I love the richness of her hair and the way it falls over her shoulders like a lush, silk blanket. The first time I introduced myself, I was standing close enough to score a whiff—watermelons. She smelled like watermelon shampoo. And don’t even get me started on her skin. It looks soft and creamy, probably tastes just as sweet. Unlike most of the girls in this school, she doesn’t wear any makeup. None that I can tell, anyway. She doesn’t really need it, if you ask me, but I do find it puzzling. Girls of her caliber, kind of like my sister, somehow feel the need to amp it up with makeup, and I’m surprised Kaija hasn’t gone that way too.

  She’s such a complex blend—she oozes the feisty coolness that Roxy and Layla have, but it’s like she’s trying to hide it or something. I don’t know. I’m probably talking out my butt. All I do know is that she has me curious, desperate to know more.

  Anderson stops at his locker, still talking. As soon as his door opens and he’s out of view, Kaija rolls her eyes and tips her head to the ceiling. I grin at her expression, my heart starting to race as she unlocks her locker and flips it open. She jerks still, her lips parting for a second before she reaches inside and pulls out one of her aluminum foil-wrapped books. Running her fingers over it, she ducks her head into the small space and is now realizing that every single thing in her locker has been lovingly wrapped in foil, I even found a pencil case in there and took the time to wrap each item inside it. Her head pops back into view, her parted lips finally rising into a broad smile. She fights the grin, her nose wrinkling before she spins to find me.

  I wave at her, showing off my cheesiest smile.

  Her eyes narrow and she flips me the bird. I start laughing, which makes her eyes narrow into fine slits.

  “Have a nice day, Kiwi Girl!” I call down the hallway before sauntering off to class.

  I half expect her to shout out some snarky response, but she doesn’t say anything, and I don’t want to lose the impact of my cool walkaway by turning around.

  All I have to do now is wait for her next prank.

  *****

  She doesn’t prank back.

  I waited all Wednesday, and Thursday, but she never bit. What the hell? I didn’t think the foil wrap was that bad. I thought she’d keep playing.

  I stalk the halls on Friday morning, wondering what I’m supposed to do next. I can’t prank her again, not without her getting me first. But we’re about to take a week off for Thanksgiving, and I doubt I’ll get many opportunities then. I mean, I could use Roxy as an excuse to swing past the Fosters’ place, but that would be a totally dick move on my part. I’m not into stringing girls along; I like to be upfront and open. Roxy and I have made out at a few bonfires before, but she knows I don’t think of her like a girlfriend. We just like to have a little fun together, that’s all.

  Thoughts of Thanksgiv
ing turn my unsettled insides to black ash. Derek’s staying this holiday. Kill me now. It’ll be impossible for Layla and me to relax with that jerk in the house. The worst part is that Trevor, his brother, isn’t even going to be there. As soon as he found out it was Martin’s turn to have them, he bailed and said he’d rather stay studying on the East Coast. Yeah, he’s got issues with his old man—hates the guy for leaving his mother. Anyway, he goes to some highbrow college. I can’t remember which one. The point is that out of the two brothers, he’s the nicer one…and without him there, Derek’s going to be at full-force.

  He’s one of those two-faced assholes who puts on a show for his dad and my mother. Mom thinks he’s amazing and sweet and doesn’t understand why I’m so surly around him. But as soon as her back is turned, Derek’s claws come out. He’s a manipulative douchebag. As if losing my father wasn’t bad enough, having to follow up that shit-storm with a life with Derek Wiseman is the most brutal blow of all.

  “Mack Mahoney, could you please come to the office?” Mrs. Trillman’s voice squawks out of the loud speakers. My brow wrinkles, but I turn for the office. It’s not like I’ve done anything to get in trouble. There’s no way Larry would have squealed on me about Kaija’s locker, and I’m ninety-nine percent certain Kaija wouldn’t, either.

  The lunch bell’s about to ring, so maybe the principal wants me to do something. Whenever a student is needed to make the school look good, he always calls on me. I was interviewed over the weekend about our big win—maybe another reporter’s here for some follow-up comments.

  Swinging the glass door open, I walk into the office and am greeted by the two smiling office ladies.

  “Hi, Mack.” Mrs. Trillman’s smile is on full-beam. She’s like the sweetest lady on the planet, and totally reminds me of my dad’s mother. One of those round, cheery-faced ladies who always makes you feel important.

  “Hey, Mrs. T. How’s it going?”

  “Great. Thank you, hon.” She places a large box on the counter. I recognize the packaging immediately and can’t help a smile—Cupid’s Bakery. Yes! I love that place. “This was delivered for you and the boys.”

  I reach for the envelope and rip it open.

  To our favorite Raiders,

  Congratulations on a great win. Here are some cupcakes to celebrate.

  From your fans at Cupid’s

  “That’s cool.” I grin, showing her the note.

  “Awww, how sweet. Well, you boys deserve it. Go and enjoy.”

  “Do you want one?” I go to open the box, but she stops me.

  “Don’t you dare tempt me with that chocolatey goodness. I’m trying to watch my weight.”

  “What are you talking about?” I beam at her. “You’re gorgeous, Mrs. Trillman.”

  Her cheeks flash red. “Oh, stop it.” She titters. “Go on, get going, before you make me blush some more.”

  I wink at her, setting off another round of giggles before taking the box and sauntering out of the office. Man, I love it when Cupid’s surprises us like this. When we got into the division finals, they sent us three Black Forest Chocolate Cakes that were out of this world. They are by far the best bakery in town.

  With a smug smile, I saunter to the cafeteria with the massive box in my hands. The boys are going to love me for this. The open space is crowded with human traffic, so I lift the box high and make my way to the football table. As soon as I set the box down, I’m swamped.

  Tyler flips the lid. The box is filled with cupcakes, made pretty with swirls of glossy, orange icing. “Yes! Damn, I love those guys.”

  “Not as much as I do, brother.” Finn snags a cupcake and starts peeling off the wrapper.

  I grab one before they’re all taken, tearing the blue wrapper and shoving the whole thing in my mouth. I bite down, expecting to smile. Instead, my eyes bulge and my gag reflex kicks in.

  Fire. Mint. Sour. Bitter—it’s the most disgusting concoction I’ve ever tasted.

  I spit the offending cupcake into my hand.

  “What the f—?” Tyler starts hacking up the food while Finn pulls a series of ridiculous faces and forces himself to swallow…then lunges for the water bottle on the table and chugs.

  In a mild state of shock, I scan the table of spluttering Raiders…and that’s when I hear it.

  A deep belly laugh. The kind people make when they can’t control themselves.

  I glance across the cafeteria and see a pair of sparkling emerald eyes staring back at me.

  #12:

  Mum + Skype = Buzz Kill

  Kaija

  Substitute sugar for salt, frosting for toothpaste. Add three tablespoons of chili powder and enough food coloring to hide the evidence, and you have the most gag-worthy cupcakes on the market. Sammy’s friends with the son of Cupid’s Bakery’s head baker, so he was able to score us the carton. She snuck the box into reception for me, and I wrote the note in my swirliest writing so no one could trace it back to me.

  Too bad the sight of the coolest kids in school hacking like drama queens made me laugh so hard that I couldn’t control the sounds coming out of my mouth.

  Mack’s eyes connect with mine and it only makes me laugh harder. Sammy’s beside me, her smile so broad it changes the whole shape of her face. She raises her hand and I slap it. We did good. It took us until after one in the morning, but it was worth it.

  “Look at those faces.” Sammy holds up her phone and starts clicking.

  “Sammy!” Tyler hollers across the cafeteria, his long finger shaking. “You are so going to get it, girl.”

  “Bring it on, Mai Tai!” She hoots with laughter and keeps snapping pictures.

  I look around and notice that Anderson and his friends are taking video footage. This thing could go viral.

  The thought sobers me up for a quick second, but I don’t have time to ponder the error of my ways. I’m locked in a silent convo with Mack, who is now wagging his finger at me and mouthing, “Just you wait.”

  He’ll plan something epic for me over Thanksgiving, I just know it.

  The biggest problem is, I kind of want him to, because the way he’s looking at me right now…I can’t get enough of it. Mack Mahoney’s eyes on me are doing things they shouldn’t.

  But I want more.

  Lunch ends up being a raucous affair with catcalls across the cafeteria. Some of the guys are steamed, others are laughing. It doesn’t take them long to form a huddle.

  “They’re plotting their revenge already,” Sammy whispers in my ear.

  I snicker.

  “We’ll have to get together over the break and make sure we have a counter-attack in place. Ooooo, this is going to be fun!” She winks at me. “I’m liking you, Kiwi Girl. Hope you stick around.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ll be gone in less than three months, back to stinky old New Zealand and a world of problems I don’t want to face. Sammy practically skips away from me, swinging by the table to say something that has Tyler throwing a cupcake at her. She dodges it with a laugh and starts running when he picks up another one and chases after her.

  My gaze locks with Mack’s again, his cheeky smirk enough to make my insides buzz.

  This is a bad idea, Kai. You’re playing with fire.

  I force my eyes away from his, knowing the truth but not wanting to listen. Hanging out with Sam, plotting our revenge—heck, even unwrapping all my school stuff on Wednesday—was fun. I mean, it was a total pain in the butt, but every time I tore at that foil, I thought of Mack taking the time to do it…and that made me kind of warm on the inside.

  Would it really be so bad to let him in while I’m here?

  I snap my eyes shut, forcing my mind away from the question. But it doesn’t want to be forced away. It wants to play with the idea, let it linger.

  The bell makes me flinch. I snatch my stuff and stand, knocking into Anderson. He gives me a closed-mouth smile and looks as though he wants to say something, then shakes his head. I don’t press him,
partly because I don’t want to have to walk with him to class…and also because he’ll no doubt have something incredibly mature to say. Something that will put me in my place and remind me how childish I’m being.

  “I’ll catch you later.” I take off to class and after school catch the bus home with Dana. She goes on and on about the dramatic events in the cafeteria, obviously unaware that Sammy was simply an accomplice. Skater girl wouldn’t have bothered with such an elaborate prank if she hadn’t been trying to help me out.

  I let Dana think what she likes. I’m not up for telling her the truth. She’ll want to know why I was playing this game with Mack, and I don’t want to explain it out loud. I barely understand it myself. I’m supposed to be avoiding guys like him, but after only one week I am immersed in a prank war that I’m enjoying way too much to quit.

  Dana follows me into the house and would have followed me upstairs too if Mrs. Foster hadn’t stopped us in the entrance.

  “Welcome home, girls.” She grins. “Kaija, your mom just tried to call you on Skype. I promised her I’d get you to call back as soon as you got home.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I force a smile and trudge up to my room, dread already roiling in my stomach.

  Mum doesn’t want me here. She didn’t want her baby girl flying halfway around the world to attend a school she knew nothing about. Mr. Foster is an acquaintance of my dad’s from ages ago—they studied together at Auckland University for one semester and then kept in touch. He’s been offering to have us stay for years. We managed one trip when I was four—totally can’t remember it, and it was the basis of my argument when I changed my mind and decided to come. Dad was an easy sell, but Mum was something else.

  Opening up my laptop, I mentally prepare for another taxing conversation. Mum doesn’t know all the details of why I chose to run. She knows parts and has made all her own assumptions. Most of them are wrong, but I don’t have it in me to tell her the truth. Because she’ll never look at me the same again.