The Red Zone (A Big Play Novel Book 2)

by Jordan Ford

  The Skype beeps and sings and then starts ringing.

  “Hello? Hello, Kaija?” Her voice is so high and hopeful.

  “Hey, Mum.”

  Her pixelated face comes clear, her hazel eyes zeroing in on me. I look at the round curve of her cheeks and the thick locks of hair framing her face. She’s getting wrinkle lines around her eyes when she smiles now.

  “How’s my baby girl?”

  “I’m doing good.” I nod. “It’s been a great first week. People are really…” I smile. “Nice, interesting.”

  “Well, that’s great. I’m glad you’re adjusting so easily.” Her voice and face are saying different things.

  I force a sweet tone and really try to sell it. “Yep, I am. So glad I made the decision to come. This is a really good experience for me.”

  The wrinkle lines are more marked when she’s forcing a smile. “We miss you.”

  “I know, Mum. You put that in every email.”

  “Well, the house is quiet without you! Corbin’s hardly ever here, either. Now that uni’s finished he’s off at the beach all day. We barely see him anymore.”

  “I know you miss your babies, Mum.”

  “Empty nest doesn’t suit me, Kai. It really doesn’t.”

  “I’ll be back soon. Just think of this as good practice.”

  Mum makes a face and whines in her throat, her perceptive eyes trying to read my face through Skype. “You sure you’re happy?”

  “Yes.” I bulge my eyes at her. “This is going to be the best three months I’ve ever had.”

  “I doubt that,” she mumbles. Her dark eyebrows dip together and then rise as she changes the subject. “Hanson popped over yesterday to see how you were doing. Are you not keeping in touch? I thought he was your boyfriend.”

  My blood flashes icy cold and I swallow. “We kind of broke up before I left.”

  Mom’s eyes narrow. “It wasn’t because of…?”

  “No.” The shake of my head is too adamant, too furious. I force my neck to stop moving and go for a half-truth. “Things have been falling apart for a while, and I just thought breaking up before I left was the right move.”

  “He doesn’t seem to think so. He said that he and Anna are really missing you. I thought you’d be posting your news to them on Facebook or something.”

  Thankfully for me, my mother is technologically retarded, so she’s never really gotten into social media. None of her children have encouraged her to, either. I guess it’s kind of selfish, but it’s saved our lives, believe me!

  “I don’t want to spend my time here on the computer. I’ve been…busy, getting to know people. I haven’t really been online much.”

  Truth: I haven’t touched social media since I ran crying to Hanson about what happened with Eloise, and he then blabbed to Anna who used it against me. They were both trying to protect their own asses and not come off like the guilty ones. So they reverted all blame to me and started a frenzy of posts on Facebook and Twitter… Then they flooded Instagram with cartoon depictions of what went down. I was so horrified I’ve basically stayed offline since. I don’t want to know what people are saying about me.

  “Well, I thought it was nice that he wanted to check in.” Mom smiles.

  For someone who seems so insightful, sometimes she’s completely blind.

  Yeah, right! Nice? The only reason he popped over was to get more goods for the gossip train Anna sent screaming out of the station. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d sent him to do her dirty work. Their betrayal tastes bitter, and it takes everything in me not to curl my lip at the mention of my ex-boyfriend and best friend. The fact that they didn’t show any kind of remorse over what happened is testament to the jerks they both are. Instead of shouldering some of the blame, they made sure all fingers were pointing directly at me.

  Mom distracts me with another bone-chilling revelation. “I called the Cochrans last week. Eloise is back home now.”

  My already icy blood makes a beeline for my brain, making it hard to see straight.

  “Oh, yeah?” I can’t keep the shake from my voice.

  “She still has to go back in for regular checks and they’ll be monitoring her closely, but I thought it was encouraging that she can be back home with her family again. It’s been a rough time.”

  I swallow, images of her ghostly white skin and limp body torturing me.

  “Yeah, that is good.”

  “Maybe you should try contacting her. You two used to be inseparable when you were kids. She could probably use a friend right now. The fact she did it in your…”

  “Can we not talk about it, please?”

  Mum sighs, her expression a mixture of compassion and concern. “You’re going to need to at some point, Kai.”

  My insides start to tremble as tears sting my eyes. My nose is tingling and if I don’t end the call soon, a loud, wretched sob is going to burst out of my mouth. “Not to be rude, but I have to go. Um, I just heard Mrs. Foster calling. I think we’re going out for dinner tonight, so I need to get ready.”

  “Oh, okay.” Mum can probably see straight through my lie.

  As her eyes start to narrow, I flash her my best smile. “I love you, Mum.”

  Her expression turns to mush and she tips her head. “Love you so much, baby girl. I miss you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be home before you know it.”

  “You take care.”

  “Give Dad a kiss for me, okay?”

  “You bet.”

  I hang up before more can be said. Slapping my laptop shut, I slam back into my seat and force air in through my nose.

  A few hours ago, I was flirting with Mack Mahoney, completely forgetting about life back in New Zealand. Or the life that nearly wasn’t, because of me.

  My purpose for coming here was to escape what I’d done.

  To make a change.

  To not fall back into the life I was once living…and what had I done so far?

  Started a dangerous game with the hottest guy in school, basically the American version of Hanson.

  “You’re an idiot,” I whisper. “Stupid girl.” I slam my teeth together and fight the burning tears.

  My phone buzzes with a text. I pull it out of my pocket and check the screen.

  Got the best idea. Come over when you can and we’ll work out the details.

  Sam

  Swiping my finger right, I press the X and ignore the text. I won’t be doing any more pranks.

  I just lost focus there for a second, but Mum’s call has brought it all back again.

  I’m not the girl who flirts with flames anymore.

  I have to disengage and be the girl I’m supposed to be.

  The one who doesn’t hurt innocent people.

  #13:

  Dickman At His Best

  Mack

  Every time I think about Kaija and Sammy’s prank, a smile pops onto my face. The only thing to kill it is Derek and his smarmy, punchable face. He stares at me across the Thanksgiving table, chewing his turkey leg with a dark glint in his eye. I can’t even begin to explain how much it sucks having Dickman as a stepbrother. He arrived on Saturday to spend the entire week with us. It’s been hell.

  Mom and Martin have forced us to spend ‘quality time’ together. Are they really that stupid? Or do they just not want to believe the angst simmering below the surface? It doesn’t help that Derek is the expert at putting on a show. With my mom, he’s attentive and sweet, articulate and kind.

  Truth: The guy’s a two-faced asshole who is hell-bent on making me look bad.

  Mom looks at us and smiles brightly. “Who’s enjoying the turkey? Is it okay? Did I cook it alright?”

  I force a smile, about to tell her it’s great, when Dickman talks over me. “Celia, it’s amazing. Truly.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Her nose wrinkles as she turns her smile from her stepson to her husband. They share one of those this is working kind of looks. Pretending that the whole blended
family thing is a piece of cake. They’re too in love to think anything else.

  Derek shoots me a greasy smile before turning it on Layla, who shrinks away from him. Keeping her eyes down, she punctures a morsel of potato and nibbles it off the end of her fork.

  “So, the game starts in twenty minutes. Who’s ready to see the Packers beat the Lions?” Martin’s eyes land on me, full of hope and expectation. He probably wants me to engage in some kind of friendly banter so he can start up a rousing speech about why the Green Bay Packers are the best team in the NFL.

  Not gonna happen.

  So I just nod. “Yep.”

  Mom’s lips flatline, her forehead wrinkling at my serious lack of effort.

  “Who knows, son. You might be playing for ‘em one of these days.”

  Martin’s jolly words make my shoulders snap tight. They also narrow Derek’s gaze to laser slits that I can feel burning my forehead. “Yeah, star quarterback,” he says. “Wow. You so deserve that.”

  I clench my jaw at Derek’s scathing tone, then wonder if my teeth will crack when his father goes on to make it a million times worse.

  “You’ll get your chance, Derek. A college is going to pick you up in the new year. You just wait and see. We all have to acknowledge that Mack’s had a better season than you.” He beams at me.

  “Minus the angry incident,” Mom mutters.

  Yeah, my teeth are definitely going to crack. When’s she going to let that go already?

  So I punched the guy on the field…like weeks ago. Big deal. His friend had just monster-smashed Colt in the ribs, pulling our playmaker out for a whole week. The move was illegal and I knew it had been Derek’s idea.

  He’s been playing the sympathy card ever since.

  Derek makes a face and Mom’s expression melts into an apologetic frown.

  I roll my eyes and share a quick look with Layla. Thank God there’s one person at the table who understands.

  “You accepted the offer from Boise State yet?” Martin slathers his forkful of turkey with cranberry sauce. “Your dad’s gonna be so proud.”

  My dad’s not here to feel proud. He’s dead, remember? You’re sitting in his chair right now!

  I don’t say any of the words bellowing in my brain. Instead, I swallow back my vicious tone and mumble, “Signing day’s not until February, so I still have some time.” I spin the fork in my fingers.

  “Of course you’re going to sign, though.” Mom grins. “We’ve talked about this. Following in your father’s footsteps is…” Her voice grows soft as her eyes start to glisten. “Martin’s right. Dad will be so proud of you.”

  Her husky words feel like a mallet, slamming into my shoulders and pummeling me to the ground. How can I tell her that maybe I don’t want to play football for the rest of my life? That maybe I want to be my own man and not have the burden of following in my father’s epic footsteps?

  Martin reaches for her hand, rubbing it with his thumb and giving her a tender smile. She squeezes his fingers and sniffs, pulling herself together. It’s no secret how much she loved my dad, but I can’t help wondering if she loves Martin more. They’re so wrapped up in each other…like lovesick teens or something.

  My thoughts shift to Kaija and her green eyes. Is this how Martin feels when he looks at my mom?

  “I’m done.” Layla dumps her napkin on the table and rises from her seat. “Great meal, Mom. Thanks.”

  “Wait, sweetie, I haven’t excused you. We’re having a family—”

  “I’m excusing myself.” Layla’s gaze skims Mom’s fingers wrapped around Martin’s hand. “Football doesn’t really interest me, so…”

  “What about the peach cobbler your mom made? I know you won’t want to miss that.” Martin’s smile is strained, his cheeks taut as he tries to keep it in place.

  “I don’t like peaches. That’s your favorite,” she tells him. Her eyes dart to Mom’s mottled face.

  Derek’s lips rise with a smirk as the two women engage in a silent standoff. Mom’s eye-bulging and subtle head tips have zero effect. My little sister pastes on a cheesy smile and flounces out of the room.

  “Layla, get back here!” Mom goes to rise from her seat but Martin stops her.

  “Honey, it’s okay. She’s still adjusting.”

  “We’ve been together for three years, Martin. She’s had long enough to adjust. I hate the way she talks to you.”

  Martin shrugs. “At least she’s not openly rude.”

  Mom rolls her eyes. “I wish she could be more like Derek.”

  Bile swirls in my stomach, bitter and acidic. Mom smiles at Dickman and reaches over to pat his hand. “I did very well to score you and Trevor as stepsons.”

  Her sweet words fall flat and unbelievable into the room.

  We all know what a joke that sentiment is. Trevor’s forfeited the holidays because of her.

  “Thanks, Celia. That means a lot.”

  Bullshit. He doesn’t mean that. Can she honestly not see the fake, plastic glint in his eyes right now?

  Martin and my mom go back to looking at each other like the outside world doesn’t exist.

  Dickman and I go back to chomping our food and sending each other evil glares that would have us dead on the floor in seconds. If looks could kill, right?

  I cut into my turkey and force my mind back to Kaija. She’s the only thing keeping me sane these holidays. If I’m not dreaming about her gorgeous face and feisty smile…or that cute belly laugh, I’m coming up with ways to prank her. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when me and some of the guys follow through on the idea Tyler came up with yesterday.

  My lips curve with a quick grin that not even Derek can kill this time.

  The fact that his forehead wrinkles with a curious frown only makes it that much better.

  Like I’m ever going to tell him about Kaija Bennett.

  #14:

  Radio Silence

  Kaija

  We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in New Zealand, so the whole holiday was a new experience for me. It was actually really cool. I love the idea of celebrating a day where we can focus solely on being grateful. When the extended Foster family went around the table and all had to say something they were thankful for, all I could think about was Mack. It was totally crazy, because I am not grateful for Mack at all!

  In the end, I mumbled some lame-ass line like, “I’m grateful for the Fosters taking me in and being so kind.”

  I got a bunch of smiles and head tips, and then one auntie made everyone laugh by saying how adorable my accent was. The house was jam-packed for three full days, and by Sunday afternoon I was exhausted. There are only so many questions you can answer repeatedly about your country.

  In saying that, it was the perfect excuse to ignore Sammy’s texts. She tried three times before finally giving up. I did feel bad for treating her that way, but I didn’t know what else to do. Radio silence seemed the best course of action.

  I keep telling myself this lie as I walk into school on Monday morning, scanning the halls for the skater girl. She’s going to be pissed off with me. Sammy’s not the kind of girl to be meek and mild about this sort of stuff. She’ll challenge me on my behavior, and I need to be ready with a credible answer.

  “So, maybe this weekend?” Anderson stares down at me, all expectant.

  “Huh?” I frown.

  “I knew you weren’t listening.” He rolls his eyes and nudges me with his shoulder. “Do you want to go to the museum on Saturday?”

  “Oh, yeah. That history display thing.”

  “The Idaho Military Museum. It’ll take us about three hours to drive there, but it’ll be totally worth it.”

  I remind myself that his beaming smile is what I’m supposed to want. I should be jumping all over his invitation. It’ll get me out of Nelson for a day and quite possibly help me stop thinking about Mack. Anderson’s the type of person who will bring out the boring—I mean, the best in me.

  I force a smil
e and bob my head. “Sounds cool.”

  “Awesome.” He grins even wider, his square teeth looking like rows of white Juicy Fruit gum. “Well, I’m gonna go and catch up with Amy in the library. I’ll see you at lunch time.”

  “Sounds good.” I wave at him and head for my locker. My eyes narrow as I approach my small space, wondering what kind of surprise I’m going to find. Whatever it is, I can’t react to it.

  Scanning the hall, I notice Mack down the end. He flashes me a friendly smile, tipping his chin at me before disappearing around the corner. I frown, wondering why he’s not staying to watch.

  Cautiously unlocking the door, I open it and am amazed to find absolutely nothing wrong.

  No wonder he didn’t stay to watch.

  Unzipping my bag, I pull out the heavy textbook I lugged home and then promptly ignored all holiday.

  “I see you’re still here.”

  The sharp voice makes me turn. I rest the book against my hip and eye up the dazzling brunette in front of me. Roxanne Carmichael. What the hell does she want?

  I arch my eyebrow, putting on the kind of face that makes other girls feel inferior—the kind Roxy is an expert at. “Was I supposed to be somewhere else?”

  She checks her nails—a standard I don’t give a shit about you tactic. I used to do it all the time. Her big hoop earrings sway as she flicks her perfect curls over her slender shoulder. “I just thought you may have returned to Hobbit land over the break, especially since you went radio silent on my sister.”

  My eyes tighten at the corners, the only sign of remorse I’m willing to show her. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  She waves her hand in the air and hitches her right shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle a little foreign matter. I just hope you can handle the heat.”

  I smirk. “The heat?”

  She matches my look, her blue eyes sparking. “Those first few pranks were amateur, Kiwi Girl. The guys have had a whole week to come up with something epic. I’d watch my back if I were you. Mack’s smarter than he looks, and no one ever gets away with shaming him like you’ve tried.”