Expiration Date

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by Kristin Coley


  One cheek creased at my innocence but the hooded look in his eyes sent a tingle straight through me.

  “I won’t tell you no, and then when we’re inside I’ll kiss you until we find ourselves on your bed, my body inside of yours doing things that’ll make both of us scream.” My breath shuddered from me at his description, my mind wiped of all coherent thought as he stared at me hungrily. I wanted more than anything to say the words that would lead us straight to his conclusion, but just then my car pulled up beside us.

  I was shocked to see my dad step out of it, even more shocked to see he was sober.

  Houston gave a hoarse chuckle.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever been so happy to see a parent in my life.” I glanced back at him, a tiny smile on my lips at his words. His face took on a serious expression. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I thought it about for a second and nodded. I still needed to process everything that happened, but survival was something I was familiar with.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” His question reminded me it was only Thursday, our pep rally had been a day early because of the away game. I wasn’t sure I could deal with going to school, but I nodded yes anyway. I wanted to see him and I wanted to find out what happened.

  My dad had went inside while we talked and I pointed awkwardly to my car.

  “My car,” I told him lamely, uncertain how I should act around him after basically attacking him. “It’s fixed,” I continued, apparently needing to state the obvious.

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” he said casually. “Give your car a break.” I felt a smile tip up the corners of my lips as I nodded and slipped from his truck. He waited until I opened the door before putting his truck in reverse and backing up.

  “Condoms.” The word startled me and I jumped, shocked to see my dad standing there. The sight of him not in his recliner or with a beer in his hand was unusual, but not as much as his next words. “I wish your mother was here, but she’s not. So, make sure he wraps it up.” I blinked at him in stunned disbelief, unsure if this was his equivalent of a sex talk, and he let out a sigh. “Christ, I need a beer.”

  He spun, headed toward the kitchen, and I assumed a beer, as I followed slowly behind him, feeling the sudden need for a beer of my own. My stomach gurgled then and I decided food was the better option for both of us.

  It didn’t take long for me to slide a frozen lasagna in the oven and then I sat at the table with him, his beer forgotten in front of him.

  “I knew this day would come,” he mumbled and I wasn’t certain if he was talking to me. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t but that was never my luck. Your mom…she’d know what to say, how to say it, she wouldn’t make a mess of things like I do.”

  I curled my hand around his, blinking back yet another set of pesky tears.

  “You don’t mess things up, Dad.” I told him softly.

  He gave me a flat stare and said, “I’m a drunk, Hope.” A rueful chuckled escaped him when I refused to comment. “Hope, you were aptly named. You never give up on your old man, do you?”

  I shook my head, disliking my name, but I knew I’d never voluntarily give up on him.

  “Why don’t you?” He whispered, gulping back half his beer. “You should, you really should.” He emptied the can and stood to go get another and I was afraid our time was almost up.

  “Because you’re sad,” I answered quickly, tripping on the words. “And I can’t blame you for being sad or trying to deal with it anyway you can. I admire you.” My words stopped him in his tracks as he stared at me in disbelief. I nodded hard, tears welling in my eyes as I told him the truth. “I do admire you. You could have given up, and there are some who would say you have, but when you lose your life, your light, trying to keep going seems impossible, but you do. For me.”

  “You give me more credit than I deserve, Hope girl,” he answered, his voice choked. I shook my head knowing I didn’t give him nearly enough credit. I’d lost my mother, but he’d lost the love of his life. I’d never really understood what that must have felt like, but today had given me a glimpse of what it meant.

  He shuffled back to the table, a new beer in his hand, but he didn’t open it immediately, instead setting it on the table and staring down at his hands.

  “You know why your name is Hope?” He asked abruptly and I shook my head in the negative. I’d always thought it was because I was their miracle baby. At least that’s what Mom had always said. She’d never given up hope of having me. Hence, the name Hope.

  “A man with hope will know joy and keep mercy.” He closed his eyes briefly, a memory suddenly too strong. “I’ll never forgot those words. They’re etched in my mind along with the memory of your birth. The moment I held you I knew you were pure hope.” He smiled and for the first time in a long time I didn’t despise my name. “You were a beacon, a reason for living, a second chance. You were a promise fulfilled.” He reached over and grasped my hand. “You still are. Hope. Man cannot exist without it. Never forget that.”

  The beeping of the oven timer interrupted us and he cracked the tab on his beer as I pulled our dinner from the oven.

  My normal routine was disrupted as I realized I didn’t have my backpack. It was still shoved in my locker because of the pep rally, so none of my homework was going to get done. Restless, with time on my hands, I made my way to the living room where Dad was propped up in his recliner. He had another beer in his hand, but he motioned me over when he saw me.

  “Want to watch the game?” he offered and while I really didn’t, I also didn’t want to think about the day I’d had or what tomorrow would bring. I shrugged and he flipped the television on. The first quarter he answered numerous questions, finally shaking his head in disgust. “I’m a failure as a father. How could any daughter of mine not understand football?”

  I laughed, but caught on quick, shouting at the TV along with him by the second half. The game finally ended and as I kissed him goodnight I noticed there were less than six beer cans scattered around. Still a lot, but an improvement.

  ***

  Dreams tortured me, both good and bad, and it was a relief to hear the alarm the next morning. Tugging my fingers through my hair was painful and I wound up losing a few strands of hair. I padded into the bathroom to brush the tangled mass, but stopped short when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

  I was horrified and amazed at the size of the mark on my neck. My fingers hesitated over the – I hated to say it, hickey – and when I pressed against it I could swear I felt Houston’s mouth there. I dropped my hand instantly, blinking at my reflection.

  No amount of makeup on Earth was going to hide that thing. I spun back around and headed to my closet. There had to be a turtleneck in there somewhere.

  After a long search that made me late, I dashed into the kitchen to grab a granola bar before Houston showed up. He was waiting when I opened my door, leaning against the door of the truck. He laughed when he saw my collared shirt, the best I could do since I couldn’t find a turtleneck. I rolled my eyes, but as I came closer I could see his puffed lower lip and smirked.

  “I wear it with pride,” he informed me, opening my door. I chuckled, giddiness warring with an ever present fear. It felt strange to feel such happiness when death was so close, but maybe that was the point. The idea of laughing in the face of danger. Our instinct to survive, to thrive, and to love overcoming any odds.

  “You ready?” He asked, seemingly in tune to the ups and downs of my emotions. I nodded, a lie, but one he accepted.

  When we got to school, students were gathered in groups, excited whispers drifting from them. Not the somber mood I had expected. Houston took my hand, steadying me as we went inside. Amber paced in front of my locker, shrieking when she spotted me.

  “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” She engulfed me in a hug, completely ignoring the guy standing next to me, holding my hand. “I’ve been calling and texting but you didn’t answer.”
<
br />   “Phone was in my backpack,” I said, muffled against her shoulder. I tapped her back. “Let go.” She released me, but her eagle eyes weren’t letting me escape.

  “You disappeared after the pep rally. I was worried. It was totally crazy with the police and fire department showing up. And then you didn’t answer and I got worried something had happened to you.”

  “I forgot my backpack in my locker. My phone was in it.”

  “You never forget,” she accused, finally noticing Houston standing there. “And you, where did you go?” There was no mistaking the accusation in her voice and I gave her a startled glance. It almost sounded like she blamed him for something.

  Houston shifted, and as his gaze flickered to me, I realized he didn’t want to admit he’d been with me. He shrugged and gave her a lazy grin.

  “I saw an opportunity to skip out early. Like a few others.” The easy way he said it surprised me, but managed to calm Amber. She still eyed him suspiciously though, leaving me feeling like I was in the twilight zone. Nothing was like I’d expected this morning.

  “Anyway, the pep rally has been rescheduled for this afternoon,” Amber told me, turning her back to Houston. My backpack slipped from my hand, but Houston managed to grab it before it hit the floor.

  “Really? After yesterday?” I forced myself to reply, accepting my backpack from him as she gave me a funny look.

  “Yeah, a stupid prank isn’t going to ruin our school spirit.” She looped her arm through mine, ignoring Houston. “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

  “We have 53 seconds,” I replied automatically and she rolled her eyes.

  “Never hurts to be early with Martin.”

  I stumbled at her words, but by then we were at the door and as he turned around to look at us, all sensation left my body and if it wasn’t for Amber’s arm I would have hit the floor.

  “Ms. Lancaster, early for once I see. Must be Amber’s excellent influence.” His smarmy smile was directed solely at Amber, ignoring me except for his cutting remark. My feet moved to my desk by rote and I sat down heavily.

  He was alive.

  Which meant maybe they were all alive.

  And we’d saved them.

  My thoughts were slow, muddy, as I tried to wrap my mind around these new facts. Houston gave me a worried look, but I shook my head. He hadn’t known who was going to die. He didn’t understand yet. Or maybe he did. The students chatting in the class weren’t acting like a football player died or half the school administration. So why had the countdown disappeared? Why hadn’t it just changed?

  A glance at Martin revealed he was back to living to a ripe old age and my breath came out in a shudder. Yesterday suddenly seemed like a strange nightmare, one that made no sense. I felt the need to find the others and make sure their expiration dates had also changed back. But before I could figure out how, the intercom crackled.

  “Would Houston Drake come to the office?”

  A few oohs echoed in the classroom, but Martin only gave him a nod. Houston stood, his backpack dangling from one hand, an apologetic look on his face as he glanced down at me. My forehead furrowed, but he only shook his head and walked out.

  “That didn’t take long,” Amber muttered and I glanced over at her. She caught my glance and raised her eyebrows. “They think he might have pulled the fire alarm. Rumor has it he was a troublemaker at his old school.”

  Her words stunned me, not at the fact that he’d pulled the alarm because he had, I’d watched, but the fact that he’d been in trouble.

  “You should steer clear of him. He’s on their radar now.”

  “They don’t have proof,” I stated and she shook her head.

  “No, but it’s suspicious.” She shook her hair, lips pursed. “I mean he’s here a week and the fire alarm gets pulled and he skips out early? I mean really.”

  She didn’t know the truth, but I did. Why had he done it if he’d known there would be a chance suspicion would fall on him?

  The next twenty minutes dragged as I waited for the bell. I hoped he’d be in the next class, but he come in by the time the teacher started to lecture. When she asked us to turn in our homework and I didn’t have mine, she gave me a disappointed frown, but didn’t comment. I gave a careless shrug, it wasn’t like it would make a difference in my life if I missed one homework assignment.

  After the bell rang, I weaved my way to the principal’s office. If they were going to accuse him, then I had to set the record straight. I would admit to pulling the fire alarm. I was the reason he’d done it after all.

  By the time I got there, I knew I would never make my next class on time, but I was surprised to see Houston standing outside the office with a couple who had to be his parents. There was no mistaking the similarities.

  He caught sight of me and my determined expression and shook his head. His eyes warned me to stay silent and as much as I wanted to protest I kept my mouth shut. A moment later the principal stepped from his office and shook the hands’ of his parents.

  “Sorry you folks were called down,” he said with a forced smile. They didn’t return it. I noted the principal’s expiration date had changed. He had five years to live now. I wondered idly what would be the final cause of his death. Heart attack, perhaps?

  “So are we,” the lady replied, her face hard. “I don’t appreciate getting a call from my son basically saying he’s being harassed to admit to something you have no proof of. Other than you heard he’d been in trouble at his old school.” The man rested a hand on her back, calming her slightly. “I wasn’t aware you operated on a system of suspicions and rumors when making accusations. Or that you badger your students.”

  “Again, we just wanted to have a conversation,” the principal attempted to placate her, but it seemed to have the opposite reaction.

  “For over an hour? And it only stopped when he demanded to call us? I don’t like how you operate.” She was livid, her face flushed as she defended her son and I felt a moment’s pity for the principal.

  Houston gave me a tiny smile and I backed away. It seemed like his mom had it under control.

  Chapter Seven

  I didn’t see Houston until lunch and then only briefly since Amber had suddenly made it her mission to keep me away from his ‘bad’ influence. However, the rest of the school was now captivated by his new status based off the crowd surrounding him.

  I scanned the lunchroom for the football player from yesterday, but didn’t see him.

  “What are you looking for? Or should I say who?” Amber fussed, yanking me back around. “I’m serious about avoiding him. I’ve heard all kinds of things. He’s bad news and I never should have told him you have a crush on him.” She let out a huff. “Now he thinks he can use and abandon you.” I eyed her angry expression and laughed. If only she knew the truth.

  I was the one who had used and then physically assaulted him all in the span of a couple of hours. I would be surprised if he didn’t start avoiding me and take up with one of the girls now clustered around him. I glanced back over my shoulder to find him staring straight at me. The corner of my mouth lifted as he gave me a wink.

  Maybe not then.

  “Stop looking at him. You’ll only encourage him.” She rapped my knuckles hard causing an “Ow,” to escape me. “He’s already a bad influence. You didn’t do your homework. Here.” She shoved the trig assignment from the day before at me. “I actually did it since I had nothing else to distract me from worrying about you last night.” I took the paper, and to my surprise most of the answers looked right. “Don’t copy them all because no one would believe you got any wrong,” she mocked, causing me to bite my lip.

  I bumped her shoulder affectionately. “See, this is what true friends are. Houston never let me copy his homework.”

  She gave a groan at my words, but I spotted a little smile trying to peek out. I went to work copying the homework making corrections as needed when it occurred to me that Amber would probably know the
mystery football player.

  “Hey, I ran into a guy yesterday, tall wearing a jersey. You know who he is?”

  She blinked at me, probably due to both shock and bewilderment.

  “You do realize that describes 99% of the football team, right? Also, who are you and what have you done with my friend, Hope?”

  “What?” I asked, playing dumb. “I can’t ask about fellow students?”

  “You can,” she responded carefully. “But you don’t. So what the hell happened?”

  I knew I had to distract her from questions I didn’t want to answer. So I said the one thing I knew she couldn’t resist. “He was cute.”

  “Ooohhh.” She perked up immediately, happy to point me in a different direction than Houston. “Well, that does narrow the field down. What color hair and eyes?” She gazed at me expectantly and I searched my memory trying to bring up some detail besides the big one of his death.

  “Brown!” I finally exclaimed, the memory of his eyes coming back to me.

  “Brown what?” She asked slowly.

  “Eyes,” I answered confidently.

  “Hair?”

  I took a chance and said, “Brown.”

  “Dark, light? Long, short?” She fished for details I had no clue about. I gave her a helpless shrug and she narrowed her eyes, clearly questioning how ‘cute’ I’d thought he was.

  “Ok, I’ll have to think about it. Off the top of my head it could be Ryan, Nick or Bryant.” I nodded encouragingly, trying to act interested as she rambled about the different guys on the team. And I was interested, but only in one particular guy and not for the reason I’d given her.

  The bell interrupted her detailed description of every single football player along with her rating on how well they kissed. I jumped up gratefully, ready to find the guy on my own by this point.

  “Remember - don’t encourage him,” she chastised and I gazed at her in confusion. Shouldn’t I encourage a guy I was interested in? “Houston,” she exclaimed in exasperation.

  “Of course!” Her frown made me backtrack. “Of course I won’t encourage him,” I clarified with a smile. She only looked slightly mollified, and I knew she’d keep a sharp eye on me.

 

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