Playing by the Rules

by D'Ann Burrow

  And I couldn’t believe it. She’d been acting the whole time she was here.

  Her being cool with moving and fitting in just fine was just an act. I stood up, stepped over her outstretched legs, trying to ignore just how tanned and toned they were now that they’re weren’t hidden under her jeans…because this wasn’t the time to realize I was starting to have a thing for my drama partner.

  And my mom’s psychic abilities were right on target. Just as I started to sit down, she appeared in the doorway to the living room. Her eyes flicked back and forth, checking for appropriate spacing between us. “Y’all doing okay in here?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine, Mom.”

  Kennedy cleared her throat and put on her best acting-smile. She practically beamed sunlight in my mom’s direction.

  “Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Shields. We’re perfectly all right.” Her hands smoothed invisible wrinkles out of her shirt, and she shifted up to avoid slouching. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come over this evening. We….I needed the extra time to prepare for the scene. We have to perform on Monday.”

  My mom blinked in shock, not accustomed to private school manners.

  “Any time. I still don’t understand exactly why Tanner ended up in the class, but I’m glad he’s got you for his partner.” Mom pursed her lip and inclined her head to the side. She was trying to decide if she wanted to say something more. “I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t help but overhear you practicing.”

  “Oh.” Kennedy frowned like she’d swallowed something bitter. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to be so loud.”

  “No. It’s fine.” Mom patted the doorframe with the palm of her hand. A genuine look of pleasure came over her face. “I used to be in theater. I was even in the Thespian Honors Society. I have to say, though, I was never as good as you are.”

  “Thank you.” Kennedy’s cheeks flushed almost crimson. “I,” she paused and bit down on her lip, “I’m hoping to get to go to Unifieds in January.”

  “Unifieds?” My mom looked like she’d gone back twenty years. “I haven’t heard about those in ages. So you want to major in drama?”

  “I do.” Kennedy nodded. And then the sad look came back into her eyes. “Or at least I did. But that was before I came here.”

  Something about the way she spoke or the expression on her face or the connection with the love of theater made my mom begin to back away. “Well, I think you’ll be an asset to whatever school you choose.”

  “If I still get to go.”

  I realized my mom stumbled upon the problem that Kennedy had just hinted at before she came into the room. She seemed to know it too. “You’ll get to go. If your daddy says no, then I’ll talk to your aunt.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t you worry about that.” She winked and ducked back out of the room.

  I waited until the sound of her shoes on the floor faded away. She was gone. Like, not right outside the room from us. Almost like she trusted me or something. That was new. “I think you passed.”

  Kennedy looked confused, then surprised and then flustered. “Oh my gosh. Does she think this is a date? Because we’re just doing homework.”

  “It’s fine. She doesn’t mind.”

  “But I’m not dressed for a date.” She was actually kind of breathing hard. It was cute.

  And then I started thinking about something. Something that hadn’t exactly occurred to me before. Kennedy went to an all-girls’ school. Her dad was ultra-protective. And her mom was dead. I had to know.

  “Have you been on a date before?”

  If I thought she’d blushed before, it was nothing compared to now. She might as well have gotten into clown makeup. She didn’t really have to answer. I already guessed.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then we need to change that.”

  “Oh no.” Her cheeks quickly flushed as red as the stop sign on my wall. “I didn’t mean... I wasn’t trying to say… You don’t have to—” She sputtered, but never quite finished coming up with the end of her sentence.

  I put my hand on her knee. Bad decision. At times like this, I tended to have a one-track mind, and I didn’t need to be reminded how toned her legs were. It was my turn to swallow. Focus. I needed to turn this game around before she died of embarrassment.

  “I know I don’t have to do anything. I want to. Let me take you out tomorrow night,” I paused, trying to remember exactly how much money was left in the jar after my mom bought groceries. “We’ll keep it simple. We’ll go get yogurt in town. If it stops raining, we can walk to the park or something. Nothing complicated.”

  “Nothing complicated?”

  “I promise.” I couldn’t afford complicated, but Kennedy didn’t need to know that.

  23

  Rule #143 – Lip gloss isn’t just decorative

  September 9

  Tanner’s back yard

  Eventually, it was too dark to practice outside, and it only took one look at Tanner’s face to see that he wasn’t prepared to move inside for any more rehearsal. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t realized until yesterday just how paper-thin his walls were. If I’d realized just how easily his mom could overhear our conversation…well, I was glad we’d just been rehearsing.

  Things had been weird since last night. Agreeing to go to the yogurt shop with him had seemed like a good idea at the time. Yogurt. Fast. Easy. Not too complicated. But as we drove up, seeing all the familiar cars in the parking lot, a quick trip to the yogurt shop felt about as massive as walking down the aisle. Maybe I was exaggerating. But not much.

  I was beyond relieved when Tanner suggested just going through the drive-through and eating in his truck. It made for a private date, but it also took some of the date-ness away. Kind of like we were hiding. Which was true. Tanner wasn’t ready for all his friends to see him with me. I couldn’t really blame him.

  Still, I wished the Almost But Not Quite A Real Date hadn’t made things so weird now. We’d been in a great rhythm yesterday. I’d almost felt like Juliet. Tonight’s rehearsal hadn’t been so successful. He kept forgetting his lines, and I even skipped half a page of the script.

  I swatted a mosquito on my arm, leaving a pink smear behind. “I hate those bugs.”

  “Didn’t you have them back home?”

  “Maybe.” I thought back about it. Funny the things I’d forgotten already. I hadn’t been gone that long, but I couldn’t remember if mosquitos were as annoying there as they were here. Somehow I doubted it. I got to my feet and brushed a few lingering pine needles off the seat of my jeans. I itched in places I couldn’t scratch in public. Stealth mosquitos. Just what I needed. “But they were definitely not this bad.”

  Tanner stood too, waving a mosquito away from my cheek. “They just think you’re sweet.”

  Part of me wanted to gag at the obvious pick-up line. But since he didn’t need to really pick me up, it was kind of cute. “I don’t even wear perfume.”

  “Could have fooled me.” His hand was still hovering so closely to my face that I could feel the warmth radiating from it. My stomach did a little hop. Not a bad hop. A decidedly good hop.

  His hand drew closer and closer to my skin. As if drawn by a magnet, I rose onto my toes, closing the gap. His palm was as rough as I expected it to be, courtesy of hours on the football field. My heart churned in my chest when his thumb skimmed along my cheekbone. I relaxed into his touch, but I was far from relaxed.

  He lowered his face to mine, and his breath blew across my face. I tried to control my breathing, but my lungs acted like I’d just been running a race. My tongue jutted out, moistening my lips. I wished I’d worn lip gloss. What if my lips were rough?

  What if I didn’t know how to do this?

  I’d done a stage kiss before, but that was different. Kissing a guy who’d rather be kissing another guy in front of dozens of your closest friends and biggest rivals was one thing.

  This was definitely another.

  He t
ilted his head to the side. “You ready this time?” He flashed a smile; he was thinking about our conversation in the hallway outside the drama room.

  I stood on my tiptoes, hoping that was enough of an answer.

  And the back porch light snapped on.

  “Damn. She’s psychic.” He dropped his hand and abruptly stood up straight. Even as he sounded disappointed, an embarrassed smile crept onto his face. “We’ll just have to try again later.”

  “Later. Sure.” My embarrassed giggle accompanied the rush of warmth to my cheeks.

  The screen door opened behind me with a squeak. I couldn’t force myself to turn and face his mom. She’d been watching. We hadn’t done anything wrong. We hadn’t done anything I hadn’t done in front of a paying audience. Something felt different, though.

  Because this time I wasn’t acting.

  “It’s getting late.” The hint of laughter in his mom’s voice told me she couldn’t be too angry. “You’d best be driving Kennedy home now.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He answered reluctantly, sounding as if he’d rather be doing anything other than driving me home. His hands slid over his shirt smoothing it down over the front of his jeans.

  I definitely couldn’t look down there.

  I could do this. I turned and smiled in Tanner’s mom’s direction, still not quite ready to meet her eyes. I followed him up the short path to the steps leading to the back door. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

  “Thanks for being such a good partner to him.” She patted my shoulder just like my mom once did. I guessed that meant she wasn’t too mad about what she’d seen. And it really was getting late. As we walked into the kitchen, I could hear the opening credits for the evening news. Since her favorite show wasn’t playing anymore, Addy must have already gone to bed.

  “And in disturbing news, the body of a young woman was found in Port Arthur tonight. While police aren’t ready to say yet if this is another victim of the Gulf Serial Killer, the discovery comes on the heels of the latest disappearance.”

  A picture of a girl about my age appeared on the screen. I couldn’t take my eyes off her gray hoodie. The broadcaster spoke with the same monotonous voice as he might use when reporting the price of bread at the grocery store or telling his audience about the current unemployment rate.

  “A girl died?” I was frozen in place, ice forming in the pit of my stomach.

  “Another one.” Tanner’s mom snapped the television off with a disgusted huff. “Whoever’s doing this is sick. I hope they catch him soon.”

  “So do I.” I nodded, my eyes still staring at the now-dark screen. I hoped my father caught him very soon.

  24

  Rule #155 – Not everyone’s who they say they are

  7:50 a.m.

  Piney Bluff High School

  A cold rain beat at the bank of windows lining the government classroom. For a state in a drought, we’d had more than enough rain for me since I’d been here. It seemed like we had the weather cycle almost permanently set on Seattle. I didn’t do rain. I didn’t do cold. And I hated fog.

  Typically, I’d feel as gloomy as the bank of clouds bringing in the cold front. Today, though, something was different. As I walked through the door, something brushed my skin. I looked down just in time to see Tanner sliding his pinkie against the back of my hand. Almost PDA, but not quite. Not enough to break any rules. Still, more than enough to attract attention.

  “Hi.” Nicole’s greeting was more like an annoyed sigh. But when I considered the fact that she generally preferred to talk about me instead of to me, it was almost a speech.

  “Lookin’ good, Kennedy.” Derrick’s teeth practically glowed as he grinned at me. Then his eyes flicked to Tanner, and he quickly turned it down a notch. “But not too good. Just. Just right good.”

  He raised his palms in a sign of surrender. I kind of wished I’d seen whatever expression Tanner had shot him to make him back down so quickly.

  I walked to my seat. No, we walked to our seats. When I paused by my desk, Tanner stopped too, casually resting his palm against the small of my back, staking his claim. His claim on me.

  While the football team and cheerleaders might have known about our new status before, and it had trickled through most of the rest of the school, this was the first time we were visible to the rest of the school.

  And they noticed.

  Stacia shifted in her seat, trying to pretend the rain pounding on the window was more interesting than anything going on in the classroom. Amberly flashed a half-smile. Mary Jo’s face wore a deeper frown than I’d ever seen on anyone younger than eighty. I predicted a lecture in my future. But once the frown faded, she just looked sad.

  A hint of regret flowed through me. She’d been my first friend here, the only girl who dared to talk to Scarlett’s annoying cousin. Now, she looked like I’d betrayed her. Or at least I hadn’t taken her advice.

  But she was wrong.

  Tanner wasn’t the kind of guy she thought he was. He was different now.

  “Good morning, class!” Mrs. Ross barreled through the door so loudly, a few people jumped. “Let’s get settled.” Her voice didn’t match her face. She sounded perky, cheerful, lighter-than air; but her smile stopped just short of her eyes. “Everyone, in your seats.”

  Tanner moved away, and the room felt cooler already. He took his seat, and Mrs. Ross moved to stand next to Mrs. Shelton’s desk. The government teacher didn’t seem surprised. Whatever caused the counselor to show up in class must have been planned ahead of time.

  The bell rang, and the lingering murmur of conversation stopped. Mrs. Ross shuffled a stack of papers in a move that she probably thought made her seem relaxed but only showed just how tense she was. “Now, I’ve been asked to talk to y’all about a difficult subject.”

  She dropped all pretense of being cheerful. Before she could get her next words out, reactions spread through the room. Legs bounced. Fingers tapped on desktops. A pink flush went up the back of Amberly’s neck.

  “Please, no sex talk. We did that in health class.” Only Derrick could get away with a crack like that and make the teacher chuckle. Nervous laughter ripped through the class, signaling he’d only said what everyone had been thinking.

  “Nope. Nothing like that.” Instead of continuing to smile, Mrs. Ross was all business. “This is even more serious. And I hope you’ll treat it as such.”

  She turned her back to the class and picked a marker up from the rail below the white board. The squeak from the marker sent shivers up my back when she wrote the words “Internet Safety” in huge, green letters before she turned around to face us. “I’m sure all of you are aware of recent events.”

  Recent events. Nods, mm hmms and general grunts signaling agreement answered her. I didn’t have a clue what she meant, but it appeared I was alone.

  “How many of you heard the news last night? Show me your hands.”

  Every hand in the room went up except mine.

  “Good. Then I’m sure you know that this girl is from close to home. She just lived an hour from here. The police think she met this guy online.”

  A missing girl from close to home. That explained why Mrs. Ross was so matter-of-fact this morning. The girl lived nearby, but that didn’t make it special. Kids went missing every day. Sad, but it’s just the way the world worked.

  “Um, Mrs. Ross, we’re not kindergarteners. You can save the lecture.” Stacia looked around the room, clearly expecting backup, but it didn’t come.

  “Let her talk.” Alex raised a finger, pointing at the counselor. “Kasey’s my cousin.”

  That’s when I noticed just how pale he was this morning. A hint of the reality of what was going on hit me. Sure, kids went missing every day, but I’d never met anyone who knew any of them. Alex looked like he was about to be sick.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Alex. We’ll be praying she gets home safe.” Mrs. Ross seemed to want to move into counselor mode, but she stayed firm.
“I know how old you all are. And how much time y’all spend online. But you just can’t be too careful. There’s no way to know just who’s on the other side of the computer screen. I’m sure Alex’s friend thought she knew what she was doing too.”

  Her eyes fixed on Stacia, and the cheerleader twirled the tips of her hair uneasily.

  “I just want to make sure y’all don’t have to come to school one day and find reporters waiting to talk to you about someone missing from here.” She paused, waiting for that image to filter through us. “Understand?”

  “Sure. I’ve got it.” Stacia nodded her head, but her voice made it clear she didn’t agree.

  25

  Rule #21 – Aunt Loretta doesn’t wake up before seven

  5:40 a.m.

  My bedroom

  The scent of bacon mixed with coffee drifted up through the wooden floor before my alarm had a chance to go off. The yeasty aroma of pancakes surrounded me, and if I really concentrated, I thought I smelled maple syrup too.

  Loretta cooked breakfast? So far, her biggest contribution to breakfast had been boiling the water for instant oatmeal.

  My feet hit the floor, and a shudder danced up my spine. God, the floor was cold. I grabbed my bathrobe, and the desire to figure out what was going on drew me down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen where I found her humming away.

  “Oh, good morning, Kennedy.” She was way too cheerful. My aunt said her brain didn’t start to work until noon. Where was the blurry-eyed woman who normally skidded around the kitchen trying not to burn cereal?

  “Good morning.” I echoed hesitantly, still not certain that there hadn’t been some type of alien invasion.

  “Sit down. Sit down. I have pancakes and bacon ready. You like bacon, don’t you? I never asked.”

  “I like bacon.” It wasn’t my favorite. I preferred sausage links, but now wasn’t the time to tell her that. I took my traditional spot at the table. A miniature glass of orange juice already sat waiting so did a cup of perfectly tan coffee and so did a newspaper. “What’s this?”