The Red Zone (A Big Play Novel Book 2)

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The Red Zone (A Big Play Novel Book 2) Page 13

by Jordan Ford


  “Thank God that’s over.” Layla clips her seatbelt then runs a hand through her long hair.

  “Did you really have to be so rude to her?”

  “Probably not.” She grins at me, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth.

  I huff and glare at her but she’s looking out the side window, unaware of my angsty vibes.

  I should be mad at her. I should be kicking her out of my car and yelling, “Screw the mall! You can walk home.” But I can’t. Because I suck at saying no to Layla. I’ve been looking after her ever since Dad got sick. It’s become a habit, I guess. And when he died, the urge to protect her only grew, especially when Derek became part of the family.

  Ditching girls to hang out with my sis has never been a problem before…but it’s different now. I really care about my Kiwi Girl, and I won’t have Layla shitting all over it.

  “I like her, you know. Way more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”

  Layla’s shoulders ping tight, her nostrils flaring. “Whatever.”

  I clear my throat, accelerating through the four-way crossing, then taking the next left. I’m not ready to drop my Kaija conversation, but Layla launches into details for tomorrow night before I get a chance to say more.

  “So, the party’s near Westhaven Mall. I say we leave around nine. That’ll get us there with a couple of hours to party before the big countdown.”

  “I have to leave at eleven,” I murmur.

  “What?” Layla snaps. “You can’t leave before midnight. It’s New Year’s Eve!”

  I sniff, avoiding eye contact as I guide the car toward the mall. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

  Layla groans, tipping her head back. “Please tell me you’re not ditching early so you can go hook up with the foreign girl.”

  “She has a name!”

  “Give me a break, Mack. You’re not this guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “The guy who’s whipped! Girls come to you. That’s the way it works. You kiss. You make their night and then…”

  I’m already shaking my head, the idea of sucking face with random girls suddenly unappealing. “Not this time.”

  “Why?” Layla’s bracelets clink as she flicks her hands in the air. She looks at me like I’ve started drinking crazy juice for breakfast.

  “She’s different.” I shrug. “You don’t know her.”

  “I know that she’s not the kind of girl you usually go after. She hangs out with Nerd Squad. Seriously, Mack, do you care nothing for your reputation?”

  I hit the brake, jerking to a stop at the red light before turning to my sister. She’s sounding scarily like Roxanne Carmichael right now. My brows dip together as I frown at her. “When it comes to her, I couldn’t give a shit about my rep.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, you’re Nelson High’s most eligible guy. You pride yourself on that. You get off on being the one everybody wants.”

  “That’s total bullshit,” I mutter, wishing her words didn’t sting so bad. The ring of truth pinging off them is deafening. I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I’m sick of living up to everybody’s expectations. I want to apply to whatever college I feel like. I want to walk into Nelson High without half the student body looking to me for guidance! I just want to…

  “I don’t get it. She’s so…not you.”

  “She’s not as different as you think.” I grip the wheel, wishing the words hadn’t slipped out so easily.

  Layla whips her head to study me, her keen eyes drilling holes through my forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “She’s just… She understands…us. She knows…the kind of people we are.”

  Shit, I’m doing a lousy job of trying to stand up for my girl and cover for her at the same time.

  Layla goes quiet beside me.

  I let the silence simmer between us, hoping she’ll drop it and move on.

  “When does she leave to go back to Hobbit land?” Layla’s voice is soft, reminding me of the sweet girl that lies beneath her layers of makeup and defensive shielding.

  I wish she didn’t have to be like this. I want to wrap my arm around her and tell her that it’s okay to feel afraid and cry over Dad. Putting on this falsefaçadewon’t make the pain go away. Sometimes I wonder if she’s going to have to hit rock bottom before realizing all of this. Kind of like Kaija did.

  My breath hitches at the thought. I can only imagine Layla’s reaction to something that horrifying. Kaija’s got a quiet strength that Layla’s never had. My sister’s suffered enough. There’s no way she’d cope with rock bottom…which is probably why I’m always so protective of her.

  My muscles tense and my wrist bone pops as I clench the wheel and accelerate with the green light. “We’ve got three weeks left.”

  “So things will go back to normal soon enough,” she mumbles to herself, sounding relieved.

  A deep sadness that I haven’t had the courage to unearth yet settles inside of me, gnawing at my core. “I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again, Lay-lay.”

  I turn on my left blinker and pause to check the intersection before glancing at my sister. Her large eyes are filled with a mixture of fear and sadness. Layla’s never done well with change. Which is probably why she’s not coping with the whole me and Kaija thing.

  But I can’t let that stop me, can I?

  For the first time in my life, I’ve found something I want…I mean really want. Should I have to give that up for the good of the family?

  It doesn’t seem fair.

  But since when has life ever been about fair?

  *****

  The music blasts out of the house, trying to reel me back in, but I won’t let it. I have better things to do. I jiggle the keys in my hand as I run for my car. It’s 11.05pm. I’ve got plenty of time to make it to the football field before midnight. A smile tips my lips before I can stop it; there’s this weird energy buzzing through me.

  Layla’s in the thick of the party, dancing with Roxy and Michelle. I made her promise me not to tell anyone where I was going. I took her to the damn mall like she wanted me to, and my threatening voice as I towered over her was enough to make her mutter, “Okay, okay. I promise.”

  Right now, the three of them are giggling like hyenas, oblivious to me sneaking out the door. I figure my sister is safe enough hanging out with her girls. It’s better than seeing her draped all over some guy, which is her usual style. I made Michelle promise to get Layla home safely. Finn and Tyler are there, as well, and I made them swear not to let her up to any of the bedrooms. Colt passed on tonight, wanting to spend it with Tori instead. I finally get why. Before meeting Kaija, I would have called him dead rubber for ditching us and told him to bring her along, but he’s got a girl to protect and although she comes to some stuff, the big parties like this are snake pits—dripping fangs and poisonous bites waiting around every corner. When guys like Quaid Miller could turn up at any moment and girls like Roxy arrive with their claws already showing, it’s better to keep the little Raider’s thief out of the action.

  I’m confident Kaija can handle that kind of thing; she’s not sweet and innocent like Pixie Girl. But I don’t want to put her in the position where she has to fight. She’s trying to turn over a new leaf, and putting her back into Catty-ville is not going to help her do that.

  I drive too fast on the way to the stadium. Thankfully, I’m not drunk; knowing I had to leave early made me reach for Coke instead of beer. Thoughts of Kaija have been dancing in my brain all day. I laugh like an excited chimp as I pull the car into the parking lot and lurch out the door. Locking it with a beep, I stuff the keys in my pocket before checking my watch again. I’ve got ten minutes to be standing centerfield. I dash inside and find the space empty. Tucking my hands into my jacket pocket, I saunter across the grass. It’s cold, and puffs of white mist light the air every time I breathe out.

  The stadium is eerily quiet. I do a slow spin and pic
ture the stands filled with cheering people. They’re on their feet, chanting, “Raiders! Raiders!” It’s weird to think it’s over now. It’s weird to think the next time I pull on a uniform it’ll be for the Boise State Broncos.

  That thought should excite me, right?

  So why does it feel like a heavy rock in the pit of my stomach?

  Restless, I check my watch again. There’s only a minute until midnight and Kaija’s not here. I frown. Maybe she couldn’t get away. Is it pathetic that I’ll be totally gutted if she doesn’t make it?

  “Ten! Nine!”

  I spin at the voice hollering at me from the gate.

  Kaija laughs, swiveling to get through the opening before running across the field. “Eight! Seven!” White breaths are popping out of her mouth too. I grin, still able to capture her stunning smile in the moonlight. I love the way her long hair flies behind her back as she speeds toward me.

  “Six! Five!” I call.

  She’s closing the gap between us and I can now see the sparkle in her vibrant eyes.

  “Four.” She puffs. “Three.” She stops in front of me, reaching for my jacket and curling her fingers into it.

  “Two…” I slide my fingers across her cheek, burying them in her silky locks. “One…” I lean toward her and whisper, “Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year,” she whispers back before meeting my mouth with a kiss so warm and luscious it steals the chill from the air and turns it into a summer night.

  I can almost feel the bubble forming around us, enclosing us in a perfect start to the year. I don’t want to think about three weeks from now. I don’t want to think about football…or college…or any of that crap. I just want to focus on this moment, this bubble shielding Kaija and me from the outside world.

  #26:

  Pop!

  Kaija

  The word ‘Monday’ can sometimes be treated like a cursed word, can’t it? The connotations surrounding the first workday of each week are often bad and people grumble their way out of bed. Not me. This morning, I practically bounce to the bathroom, brushing my teeth with a smile on my face, singing in the shower, getting dressed with a giggle.

  It’s kind of lame, to be honest, but I’m just so happy.

  The holidays are over and I’m going to see Mack today. We’ve got just under three weeks left together before I fly back to New Zealand, and I want to spend as many seconds as I can with him. On New Year’s Eve, we kissed until our noses were frozen. Then Mack drove me home, and we kissed some more in his car. I would have spent all weekend doing that with him, but the Fosters wanted to take me sightseeing. Dana managed to get out of it because she had a monster assignment that had been due before the Christmas break. Her punishment was to stay home and work. Lucky thing. I had to spend the last weekend of the holiday hiking through the icy snow at Yellowstone National Park. Admittedly, it was beautiful, but all I could think about was Mack.

  I have never been this hung up on someone before. It’s ridiculous how giddy, dizzy, and light I feel. It’s like floating in a bubble of happiness and waving down at the bullshit below. Can’t touch me.

  With a big grin, I skip down the stairs and out the door, my boots crunching over the light snow as I make my way to Mrs. Foster’s car. She’s already got the heater running. I slip into the back seat and grin at Dana. She gives me a twitchy smile, curling her fingers around her binder.

  “Did you get your assignment done?”

  “Uh-huh.” She bobs her head, then bites her lip.

  I nudge her with a playful smile and whisper, “When is it due in?”

  “Fifth period.”

  “Sweet as. You can finish it off at lunchtime. Your mum will never figure out you spent the weekend watching movies.”

  Her eyes bulge.

  “I thought so.” I wink at her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

  Her giggle is short and jittery. She swallows a squawking sound and bites her lips together. Anderson’s jacket rustles as he looks over the seat and tries to smile. He’s still mad at me for sneaking out of the New Year’s Eve party. I think he was hoping for a midnight kiss. I haven’t told him I went to see Mack, but I’m sure he’s guessed it. He didn’t say anything while we were away this weekend—well, not about Mack anyway. He was too busy talking about everything else under the sun. I never knew there was so much to learn about the geological features of Yellowstone National Park. Who needs a ranger when you’ve got Anderson Foster by your side?

  Mrs. Foster stops the car outside school. We all jump out and mumble our goodbyes.

  “I’m at work all day today, so if you need anything, call me at the office first!” she calls. We all wave in acknowledgement, then turn for the school.

  I scan the parking lot for Mack’s car, but don’t see it straightaway. It could be hiding behind a bigger vehicle. I hope so. He’s probably waiting for me at my locker. I try to temper my glee.

  “Oh, there’s Amy. I’m just going to ask her if she’s finished her AP English essay.” Anderson veers away from us, heading for the blonde whose thumbs are flying over her phone screen.

  I grin down at Dana and roll my eyes. “Do you ever worry what will happen if he doesn’t make valedictorian?”

  My short companion titters then races up the school steps, hurrying left as soon as she walks through the door. She’s obviously freaking out about her overdue assignment. I spin at the top of the steps but don’t spot Mack’s blue and orange Camaro. There’s still fifteen minutes before the homeroom bell, so he’ll probably arrive any minute. I’m tempted to wait for him, but decide that really crosses the pathetic, swooning girlfriend line, so I force myself inside to get ready for my first class.

  The bounce in my step doesn’t falter until I notice that the white sheets of paper lining the walls seem to converge at my locker. I’d been too busy toying with the idea of boldly greeting Mack with a kiss to actually take note of what was on the advertisements. But the sheets are plastered all over my locker, like it’s the queen’s hive and all the notices have spawned from there. With a bemused frown, I approach to get a better view.

  The second I draw near enough to read the fine print, my heart lurches in my chest, like someone’s slashing it in half with a machete.

  Cartoon drawings cover the pages on display—little stick figures with Xs for eyes and speech bubbles filled with all the gossip I tried so hard to escape back in New Zealand.

  With trembling fingers, I snatch the top sheet free, the paper ripping as I tug against the tape holding it there.

  The whole story’s there—me taunting Eloise, her crying, me handing her a bottle of pills (yeah, that rumor started just before I split), and then her…dead on my bed. It’s all been drawn out in cartoon form, in the exact same style Kylie and Stefan used.

  “What the hell?” I whisper. The acid burning my brain is making it hard to think straight.

  All I can focus on now are the thick, ugly words scrawled across the bottom of the page.

  We know who you really are. Go back home, you murdering little slut!

  I can’t compute what’s going on right now.

  My deepest, darkest secret is on full display, but my mind is thrumming with one thought—Mack’s the only one who knew about this.

  If he was after the ultimate prank—he got it.

  He totally played me. I fell for his charm, his smile, those lips! And I handed him ammo by the bucket load.

  Tears scorch my eyes as I scrunch the sheet of paper and hurl it at the lockers. My lips quiver and I have to fight the feral cry rising inside of me. Lurching forward, I rip the damning sheets off until I’m standing in a pile of paper shreds. But it’s a pointless maneuver, because the second I turn around, all eyes are on me.

  And not just that. They’re all holding white sheets of paper covered in cartoons.

  Stick figures with Xs for eyes.

  The air in my lungs is like a thick fog—icy and impossible to breathe. I stumble away from th
e horrified stares, nearly tripping as I skid on the polished floor.

  Someone catches me, hauling me to my feet. His hands are strong and sure. Part of me wants to surrender to his arms, but the wild anger storming through me shoves him away.

  Anderson stumbles back, his eyes wide with shock and revulsion. I blink, suddenly realizing that I’m staring at my host brother, not the guy I thought I loved.

  The paper in his hand is shaking as he holds it up to me. “Is this true? Did you drive someone to commit suicide?”

  I snatch the sheet out of his hand and push past him, fighting the sob desperate to burst out of my throat. I won’t give in. Mack will not see me cry. That asshole!

  Rounding the corner, I spot Amy and Tori coming towards me. They’re looking at the sheet of paper too. Tori’s skin is pale, making her freckles stand out. Amy is shaking her head with a sharp frown on her face.

  They lurch to a stop when they see me, and Tori’s grey eyes fill with a sympathy that’s going to make me cry. “Who would do this to you?” She steps closer to me. “I mean, they’re total lies…right?” The doubt on her face makes me take a step back. I can’t answer her. I can’t lie to this girl. She can see the truth on my face anyway. Her lips part and she starts blinking, then jerks her head to look at Amy.

  I can’t do this.

  Spinning the other way, I run, aware of every eye on me, of every scandalous whisper rocketing down the hall. Taking a right, I head for the exit, ready to make my big escape, and nearly barrel straight into Roxy and her pack of cheerleaders. Layla glances up and sees me gaping at her. Her eyes round and she looks back at the sheet Roxy’s holding, like she’s just been punched in the guts.

  Roxy snickers, then looks up with a smirk. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this interesting? I knew there was something off about you.” She shakes her head and I take off before she can say anything else.

  Tears are building inside me, pressing against my inner walls, threatening to pop out of me like a frickin’ geyser. But I won’t let them.

 

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