by Black, Chuck
Drew reached into his locker and grabbed his deodorant.
“Good game, Carter,” Joey said from behind him as he walked past.
Drew turned around. “You too, Houk.”
Joey stopped and looked back at Drew. “I didn’t think you had it in you … Guess I was wrong.”
He looked like he was going to say something else, and Drew felt the awkwardness of the moment. He gave a slight nod. “Later.”
“Yeah, later.” Joey joined up with three other guys and left.
Drew took a deep breath. He felt good about his life for the first time in a long time. He gathered his gear and zipped up his bag.
“Best stats this school has seen from a fullback in a long time.”
Drew turned to see Ben putting a case of empty water bottles into the storage locker. “Thanks.”
Ben didn’t look up. He just grabbed his coat and walked to the door.
“See you around, Ben.”
“Sure.” Ben pushed open the door.
Drew watched the door swing shut and latch. His conscience kicked him in the stomach, but he tried to ignore it. After buttoning up his shirt, he threw on his shoes, slammed his locker door shut, grabbed his coat and bag, and headed for the door. The parking lot between the school and the football field was dark and empty. The cool, crisp night air washed across his cheeks as he looked left and right for Ben. One lone set of headlights on the street to the south was the only movement he saw.
“I guess you really are a jerk, Carter.” He dropped his bag to the asphalt and then whipped on his coat. He took a deep breath and let the cool air fill the bottom half of his lungs. A sharp pain on his right side was a stark reminder of one particularly hard hit he had taken from a Wolves linebacker. He exhaled and bent down to pick up his bag. In that moment, something felt very, very wrong. An indescribable feeling of anxiety washed over him, and although it lasted just a fraction of a second, it was long enough for his consciousness to register the powerful emotion of fear.
In the darkness of the night, a blinding light smacked him.
He looked at his hand wrapped around the straps of his bag and could see the veins and hairs as though it were day. It made no sense until he processed the sounds that accompanied the light, and his stomach rose up into his throat.
Headlights!
The roar of the car’s engine screamed at him. Drew looked up. With no time to react, all he could see were the blinding lights just ten feet away. He made an attempt to stand up, intending to jump backward, but it was pointless—the car was too close and coming too fast. Then he felt it. Something hit his chest, and he was thrown backward into the brick wall of the school, directly into the inside corner where the wall jutted outward ten feet.
The sound of the car smashing into the immovable brick wall was deafening.
Drew tried to cover his face with his arm as the air exploded around him. Shards of a hundred pieces of glass ripped through his hands and forehead. When would the pain of his crushed body engulf him? Surely death would follow in the next few microseconds …
But it did not.
Instead, he collapsed to the ground in a sea of shrapnel, numb, as a strange odor of fuel, antifreeze, burnt rubber, and blood filled his nostrils. It took a few seconds, but the darkness and the still of the night closed back in around him, disturbed only by a hissing sound coming from the engine of the smashed car.
How …
How was he still alive?
Drew looked to see if his body was still whole or if some major injury had put him in shock so that he couldn’t feel the pain. The soft glow of the parking lot lights was not enough to make a determination. Warm blood trickled down his forehead and into his eyes. The thick, salty fluid stung, and he tried to wipe it away. His arms and legs all functioned properly.
He felt before him, and his hand came in contact with the cold, twisted form of the car’s bumper just inches away from his chest. With a little more probing, he realized that he was wrapped in wreckage. That he was even still breathing was a miracle. He heard some faint voices and the sound of distant sirens.
“Is anybody hurt?”
The voice was familiar. Drew heard the quick succession of footsteps.
Drew tried to call out, but his voice failed him. He tried again. “Help!”
“Drew?” It was Ben. “Drew, is that you? Are you all right?”
“I think so.”
“Stay still. I’ve called 911—they’re on their way. Just stay still.”
When the fireman pried open the driver’s door, the sickly sweet smell of alcohol spilled out of the interior of the car. Drew heard the drunk man mumbling as emergency workers extracted him and placed him on a stretcher. They quickly but carefully pulled the wreckage away from the building and away from Drew. EMTs rushed in and began working on him. To their shock, the only treatment Drew needed was a few Band-Aids on his hands, forehead, and neck for minor cuts.
“You are one lucky kid,” the older, bald EMT said. “It’s a good thing you thought to jump into that corner, or you’d be a dead man.”
“But the car hit me.”
“Not possible. Did you see that brick wall? You’d have broken bones by the dozens. You must have reached that corner before the car reached you.”
“Yeah … I guess you’re right …”
“Stupid drunk!” the other EMT muttered beneath his breath, his words dripping with anger. Drew wondered how much of their work dealt with the consequences of drunk drivers.
Ben stayed with Drew until Drew’s mother arrived, which was an event all in itself. She was not one to become hysterical, but it did take a considerable amount of time and convincing by Drew that he was okay. By the time he got home, it was one o’clock in the morning, and he was exhausted. The beating he had taken from the Wolves’ defensive line coupled with the adrenaline from the accident had taken its toll, and yet sleep evaded him. He replayed that one moment in time, just before the car careened into the brick wall, over and over again … trying to convince himself that his quickness had saved him …
But he could not.
4
MYSTERY GIRL
By Monday morning, Drew felt almost normal again. After all, freak accidents and narrow misses happened all the time. He’d seen thousands on the Internet. He was just one of the fortunate “narrow misses” that so many others had experienced. But somewhere, deep inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. He certainly didn’t believe in a God who cared or intervened in the affairs of men, so whatever had happened, no matter how coincidental, had to have some reasonable explanation. It had preoccupied his thoughts for most of the weekend, and Monday morning might not have been much different had it not been for Speech class.
The first round of speeches was to be given today. Drew did his best to listen, but his thoughts returned first to the football game and then to the accident. By the end of the third speech, he was struggling to even appear interested.
“Thank you, Justin,” Mrs. Wilson called from the back of the room. “Our last speech today will be given by Sydney Carlyle.”
Drew was still trying to learn names and perked up when the girl in the front of his row stood up.
Mystery girl.
This was the girl he had seen on his first day of school and hadn’t forgotten her smile. “Church chick” was what one of the guys had called her, but from what he’d been able to tell, no one knew anything about her.
She walked to the front of the class and turned around.
Jake’s voice came back to him: “The smallest details often give the greatest information about a person.” Drew studied the girl at the front of the room.
Although Sydney was quiet, she was poised and confident. Stylish clothes with an extra touch of modesty set her apart from most of the girls. Drew had yet to see her come to class without looking her best. No drugs, no alcohol, no boyfriends … Drew was sure of that. Strong enough to go counterculture, but
not rebellious. Pretty, but not obsessed with beauty. People pleaser, shy, reclusive, innocent to a fault.
Sydney faced the class and gave a nervous smile. Drew readied himself for another ten minutes of ums, ahs, and likes … Painful!
“My persuasive speech is on why it is important to abide by the copyright laws governing music, books, and videos. Every year, over two billion dollars are stolen from artists, authors, publishers, and producers for the work they have created to share with the world.”
Drew thought about the hundreds of songs he had been given or that he himself had shared with dozens of other students. He’d thought he was immune to such petty petitions, but this girl’s speech pricked his conscience like never before. Her delivery was polished and smooth. She scanned the room as she spoke, occasionally focusing on one student or another. One time, her gaze fell on him, and he felt like averting his eyes. Instead, he allowed the eye contact—and was mesmerized.
There was something different about this girl … something really different … something …
Pure.
She wrapped up her speech and received a reserved ovation. Drew found himself clapping louder and longer than he had for the previous speeches. No doubt about it, hers was the best speech given that day. Drew wanted to know more about her.
After class he hurried to catch up as she walked down the hallway. “Hey.” He joined her, matching her gait.
Sydney snapped her head to look at him, and he realized he had startled her.
“Hi.” She gave him a quick smile, then looked down the hallway.
“That was a really good speech you gave.”
Sydney looked out of the corner of her eye at him. “Thanks.”
Drew noticed that her pace had quickened. “I’m Drew.”
She turned her head away from him. Was she so shy she couldn’t even have a normal conversation?
When she turned back, she was laughing. “Yes, I know. You played a great game last Friday.”
Drew smiled. He hadn’t expected that—so she cared about football?
“You saw it?” he asked with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Yep. It felt good to finally beat the Wolves.”
Drew dodged a couple of students. “Where’d you learn to give a speech like that? I mean, that was really good.” Drew sensed her relaxing.
“My mom, actually.”
Drew nodded. About then Sydney turned to go down the main staircase. Although Drew’s class was in the opposite direction, he walked with her.
“So I was wondering,” Drew began, but they ran into a sea of students and got separated for a few seconds. Sydney didn’t make it easy for Drew to rejoin with her. When he did, she was moving to the front door to exit the building.
“Hey, where are you going? Second period is about to begin.”
Sydney pushed the door open and looked back at him with a big grin. “To my next class.” With that, she slipped through to the outside.
Drew stood looking out through the glass, feeling like an abandoned puppy.
“Well, she’s got ‘hard to catch’ down.” He turned to go back up the stairs to his Algebra II class.
At lunch Drew met up with Ben and thanked him for calling 911 and for staying with him Friday night. Ben seemed okay again.
“Hey, do you know anything about Sydney Carlyle?”
“Nope. Not a thing.”
Drew told him about his strange but short encounter with her.
“Dual credit,” Ben replied.
“Ah … sure.”
“Half of my classes are at the college now. She’s probably a senior and trying to get a head start on college credits.”
“Makes sense. She’s kind of a mystery. Nobody seems to know anything about her, although I heard one of the guys call her the ‘church chick.’ ”
Ben shook his head. “I wouldn’t do it … uh-uh.”
Drew laughed. “So you’re an expert on girls now?”
“Religion is a crutch for the weak minded and needy of the world. Nothing about any of it is logical or scientific. Get messed up with her and you’ll be sorry.” Ben didn’t even look up from his food, as if he had given this advice a thousand times.
Ben was as intriguing as Sydney. What would she say about Ben? From one extreme to the other …
He was glad he lived in the comfortable middle.
EACH DAY THAT WEEK, Drew tried to get a few more bits of conversation in with Sydney. By Thursday, he didn’t know much more about her than he did on Monday, and although he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he had to admit he thought about her. A lot. Friday morning, he bolted to catch up with her again.
He started out with his usual opener. “Hey.”
She turned and smiled, but it wasn’t a genuine good-to-see-you smile. It was a not-again, forced smile. Something hurt just a little inside him.
“You sure make it tough for a guy to get to know you.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
To his surprise, she stopped and turned to face him for the first time.
“What are you looking for, Drew Carter?”
Drew hunted for an answer. Perhaps he had judged her shyness prematurely. “I … I’m looking to get to know you a little better, that’s all.” He gave a shoulder shrug.
She eyed him, skeptical.
“Okay … you got me. I’d like to ask you out on a date.”
She shook her head. “I don’t date.” She turned and resumed her walk down the hallway.
Drew watched her walk away. He had never before had to try so hard with a girl—not that there had been many girlfriends, but he always succeeded in getting girls to talk to him. He considered following after her, but there wasn’t much more he could say. She obviously wasn’t interested.
It’s just as well. Big game tonight, and I need to stay focused on football.
Drew walked on to his next class, trying to forget about the girl he barely knew …
Would she be at the game tonight?
THAT EVENING, THE RIVERCREST FALCONS took on the Bakersfield Badgers and tallied another win. Drew had another excellent game, scoring three touchdowns and running for one hundred fifty-three yards. Coach Bruber looked pleased and relieved. Evidently a couple of wins and proof of his making the right choice for fullback helped eliminate some of the pressure.
“Great game, Carter!” Joey gave him a wide grin. “Keep it up and we’ll make the play-offs.”
“You too, Houk. Way to throw the ball.”
Joey had completed sixteen passes, and Drew loved it, because a throwing quarterback opened up a defense enough for him to run the ball well.
“Hey, a bunch of the guys and I are going out to Hansen’s for a while. Why don’t you come along?”
Drew hesitated, not sure what he might be getting himself into.
“Yeah, Carter,” Spud chimed in. “Don’t be a wimp. Hansen’s place is awesome. Hot tub, pool table, cheerleaders … everything you need to celebrate a victory.”
Well … he should make an effort to connect with these guys. Besides, he could leave if he didn’t like what he saw. “Okay, I’m in.”
Spud let out a yelp as if the party had already begun. “Awesome! You can give us a ride in that sweet car of yours. It’s only a couple of miles out of town.”
Joey swung his hand around and Drew caught it.
“Sweet,” Joey said with a grin. “We can throw our gear in my car and jump in your ’Stang.”
Before Drew knew it, he, Joey, Spud, and Justin, their middle linebacker, were on a dirt road traveling to the Hansens’ place, a large home on four acres just three miles north of town. By the time they arrived, the party was well under way. Twenty-some other cars were parked in every orientation on the lot to the side of the home. Drew popped open his door and could hear the thump of the subwoofers pounding from the house. Laughter and yelling mixed in with the music. Drew could see why this home was chosen.
“Are Hansen’s
parents home?” Drew couldn’t believe this guy’s parents would allow something like this in their home and on their property.
“I doubt it,” Joey replied. “But they wouldn’t care if they were. Hansen has parties here all the time. It’s awesome. Come on!”
As they entered the doorway, the music blasted at Drew’s ears. There were kids everywhere—the foyer, kitchen, hallways, hot tub. The wide staircase and balcony on the second floor seemed a popular hangout too, as it afforded a perfect view of much of the activity. Drew became uncomfortable and considered doing a one-eighty to head for home.
“Carter!” Alex held a fist in the air as he yelled from the top of the balcony. The two-hundred-thirty-pound lineman pushed people aside to descend the stairs.
Drew wasn’t sure what to expect. He locked hands with the large grinning fellow.
“You are the man!” Alex grabbed a random passerby. “This is the man … three touchdowns!”
“Awesome game, Carter!” The guy gave Drew a fist bump and moved on.
“It’s easy to look good when you’ve got a great line. You played a great game too, Alex,” Drew shouted above the music.
“Come here.” Alex grabbed Drew’s arm. “There’s someone who’s been wanting to meet you.”
Alex cleared a path for Drew through the throng of teenagers, almost as if they were still on the field. Drew laughed. They made their way out to the back patio where the hot tub was and another thirty teens were hanging out. The music was quieter but still difficult to talk over, and the deep thump of the subwoofer somehow seemed even louder on the patio.
“Hey, Kaylee,” Alex shouted over the heads of a dozen teens. “This is the cheerleader I was telling you about. She’s been asking about you.”
A cute girl slipped past a couple of guys and came to them.
“Drew Carter, this is Kaylee Marks. Kaylee, Drew.”
Drew smiled. He had seen her practicing with the other cheerleaders but had never had a chance to talk to her. They didn’t share any classes together. Kaylee’s eyes sparkled, and a pure white smile spread across her flawless skin. Every blond hair was perfectly in place.