Playing by the Rules

by D'Ann Burrow

  28

  My Kitchen

  7:30 p.m.

  * * *

  “Where’s Kennedy tonight?” Mom camouflaged her question behind clearing the dishes from the table. “I thought she’d be here.” No wonder we had leftovers tonight. We never had anything left at the end of a meal, but an entire drumstick and a helping of macaroni sat in the pans on the stove.

  “No idea. I don’t keep track of her.”

  “Really? Seems like she’s been spending most weekend nights with you lately.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “That’s too bad. I haven’t had a chance to thank her yet.”

  “For what?”

  The dishes clattered so loudly in the sink that I thought mom might have broken a plate. She spun, her cheeks as red as the color in her hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Tanner, but that girl saved your sister yesterday.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Then act like it.” Her lips formed the same tight line that used to signal I was about to have an appointment with her belt back when I was little. But she didn’t make a move toward me. Instead, she just gave a slow shake of her head. “You do the dishes tonight. I have somewhere I need to go.”

  I pulled up my sleeves. I did the dishes almost every night. Nothing new about that. “Where to?”

  “I have someone I need to thank.” She didn’t look at me again as she left the room. Her keys jangled a little too loudly, and the front door slammed so hard that water sloshed in the glasses next to the sink. I hadn’t seen her that angry since her last fight with Dad.

  I plunged my hands into the water. She’d gotten it too hot. It stung, even through the calluses on my palm.

  “Is she gone?” Christian’s voice almost sent me into midair. Since when did he walk out of his room before it was time to go to bed?

  “Don’t you have a game to play? Aren’t your guys waiting on you or something?”

  “I need to talk to you.” I didn’t like the sneaky edge to his voice.

  “What about?” I dropped the plate back into the water and reached for the dish towel. As I dried my hands, I walked to the edge of the kitchen so I could keep an eye on Addy in the living room. I didn’t need to worry about her. As long as I could hear the songs from her show, she would stay put.

  Christian hopped back and forth between his feet in the same dance he used to use when he needed to go to the bathroom. His eyes darted around the room like they did after he brought home a note from school. “I did something.”

  “What?”

  “Now, don’t get too excited.”

  “Excited’s probably the last description I’d use right now.”

  “Wait until you hear this.” His cheeks flushed red, and his eyes bulged with pride. “Dad’s coming to your game.”

  Of all the things I thought he was about to tell me, that was the one I was least prepared for. “Dad’s doing what?”

  “Coming to your game.”

  “How does he even know about the game?”

  “I told him.” He looked like he’d just been announced as a member of a championship team. “And he’s gonna come to your big game. When the coach comes to see you, he’s gonna be there. He’s really excited about it. Said he always knew you had it in you. He told me tonight.”

  “You talked to him tonight?”

  “I talk to him every night.” Now Christian’s voice was low with just a hint of fear.

  “How?” I hadn’t seen my dad since the day he left—since Addy’s doctor told us what was wrong with her and that she’d never really get better.

  “He’s one of the guys I play the game with at night.”

  I couldn’t believe this. I had a spy in my own house. “Tell him I don’t want him there.”

  “But he wants to come. Tanner, listen to me. This is going to fix things. He’s going to come, and he’s going to see that you’re the starting quarterback. He can even see Addy. He can see she’s not that bad. She’s just Addy.”

  “Dad doesn’t care.” I fought back the urge to punch something…anything…but not my brother standing all-too-eagerly in front of me. “And this won’t fix anything.”

  It wasn’t going to fix our family.

  And it definitely wasn’t going to fix how badly I’d messed things up with Kennedy.

  29

  After Practice

  Around 5:30 p.m.

  * * *

  I unfastened my helmet and crossed the track on the way to the locker room, trying to avoid looking in the direction of the parking lot. The cheerleaders had finished their practice just a few minutes earlier, and that would mean that Scarlett was on her way to her car right now. Kennedy was probably leaning against the beat-up bumper even now.

  I didn’t want to see Kennedy.

  It was bad enough that she was in almost every one of my classes. I didn’t want to have to look at her now. I knew she didn’t understand why I was mad, but that made me even angrier.

  “Yeah. And he’s a college student.” A group of cheerleaders giggled as they walked past. Stacia and Nicole were walking just a little too slowly as they were surrounded by members of the JV squad. All the younger girls were focused in on Stacia like they were listening to a preacher at church. “He’s amazing. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “A college guy?”

  “Uh huh. A college guy. He’s a med student.” She emphasized the word college just for my benefit. “And he’s amazing. He has great taste in music too.”

  I bent down, pretending like my shoe had come untied. I wasn’t in any mood to listen to The Stacia Show. It worked. They kept going, and I delayed standing up as long as possible.

  “You looked good out there.” A voice that was once familiar called out to me.

  Could this day get any shittier?

  I squinted up into the setting sun, and a silhouette that could only belong to my dad was leaning against the handrail. “This is a closed practice.”

  “Try telling that to all of them.” He gestured to a group sitting at the top of the bleachers. I couldn’t see any faces, but I could hear Alex’s dad even from where I was standing.

  “They’re family. That’s different.”

  “Ouch.” I didn’t have to see him to know exactly what expression he made. He’d always have a knack for making others feel guilty for mistakes he’d made.

  My fingers tightened on the faceguard of my helmet as I started walking toward the locker room again.

  “Come on, bud, just give me a second.” He jogged down the metal stairs and followed me like a puppy trying to chew on my shoelaces. The wind picked up, and the stench of cheap liquor and stale cigarettes blew in my direction. Now I knew where all our nonexistent child support money disappeared to each month.

  Why had I ever even missed him? We were beyond better off without him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here.”

  “Can’t a dad just have a minute with his son?”

  “If he acted like a dad, then yes.” We were starting to draw a crowd. Even Coach Dillon and Coach Santos were headed in our direction. Great, just what I needed. I hadn’t been able to find my rhythm for a week, and I already knew my starting position was shaky. I didn’t need any drama with my dad making holding onto it any riskier. “Go away.”

  Why had Christian decided to call him in the first place? We didn’t live in a fairy tale. Bringing our dad home wasn’t going to end in a happily ever after. If he didn’t stop following me, it was going to end up in a fight in the parking lot.

  “Is there a problem, Shields?” Dillon came up behind me, using his most intimidating head-coach voice. “Do you know him?”

  God, my dad had been so MIA the coaches didn’t even know who he was. They probably thought he was the serial killer guy. Santos already had his phone out of his pocket, and I imagined he was seconds away from dialing 911.

  “Nope. No problem at all.” I shot my dad a glare before turning to the two
coaches. “Just heading to the locker room.”

  “Then get a move on.” Dillon took a step in my dad’s direction, and true to form, my dad backed away—all talk and no fight.

  “Yes, sir.” I followed the last few members of the team toward the locker room, and I never bothered to look back to see if my dad decided to leave or not. As long as he was gone by the time I left the locker room, that’s all that mattered.

  30

  Rule #159 – The rules aren’t always perfect

  7:40 a.m.

  Scarlett’s car

  * * *

  Entire years passed by more quickly than the next two weeks did. I’d gone from someone accepted at the table in the lunch room to someone who scarfed my lunch down in the theater black box. Each time I crept through the door that didn’t quite lock, I felt guilty, knowing I was breaking at least a dozen rules. It didn’t matter. At least this way I was alone.

  And now I was always alone.

  Mary Jo hadn’t spoken to me since I’d almost dated Tanner. Now Tanner’s friends and wannabe girlfriends pretended I was invisible. It was easier that way.

  Because Tanner didn’t act like I was invisible. Instead, he acted like I’d done something to personally offend him. Since all I’d really done was keep his sister from drowning, I couldn’t exactly fix things.

  I couldn’t change who I was or what I could do—even if I wanted to.

  With so much time spent studying on my own, my grades had never been higher. Ellie would never believe that I was actually making almost a perfect 4.0. Unfortunately, Scarlett couldn’t brag about her grades. After spending almost every spare minute preparing for all the fuss surrounding homecoming, Loretta received a note from school that she was failing not one, not two—but three classes.

  That night, I retreated to my room in the midst of a shouting match that made me wonder if Loretta had once been a cheerleader too. She could definitely out-scream her daughter. By the end of the evening, Scarlett’s phone was locked up in a safe that I hadn’t even known existed. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever met a family that had a real, legitimate safe in their house.

  Aunt Loretta’s safe was massive. When I crept out of my room to make sure neither of them had killed each other, I ended up in Loretta’s studio, and I watched as Scarlett quietly begged her mom to reconsider locking her precious phone away for a week. The safe closed with an echoing thud, and I got a good look at it. It looked like it had come out of a bank in the Wild West or something. It certainly wasn’t something I’d expect an artist to own. While the door was open, I’d caught a glimpse of a row of filing cabinets, and I had to wonder why Loretta had them locked away so safely.

  The safe was the reason we were running late that morning. Or I guess it was more that the phone being locked away was the reason we left a few minutes later than normal. Without all of her carefully set alarms, Scarlett spent two minutes too long in the shower, and the whole rest of the morning was a disaster.

  She almost left the house without me, but that wasn’t that unusual. Sometimes I thought she tried to sneak out. I had to wonder if it would be easier for me to just stay home. No one at school would miss me.

  The clouds looked like they’d open up in a repeat of the flooding rains of a few weeks ago as we approached the school. Thunder rolled in the distance. I’m not sure if I’d ever seen a gloomier morning.

  Scarlett turned her car down the road leading to the high school. As far as I could see, yellow ribbons were tied around the trunk of each tree lining the street. And not little ribbons. Big ribbons—thick ones. The ones that meant someone had died. Or was missing.

  So why were they here at our school?

  It wasn’t a holiday. No one mentioned a town event.

  Scarlett tensed behind the wheel. Twenty-four hours of being banned from using her cell phone had clearly left her out of the gossip loop. “What the hell?”

  Traffic was a lot heavier than normal. We’d only left the house two minutes beyond her morning schedule, but cars idled in bumper-to-bumper traffic that rivaled any trip I’d taken into San Diego. They just didn’t get traffic like that around here.

  In a departure from our standard morning routine, Scarlett acknowledged the fact that she actually had a passenger in the car. She glanced my way, one eyebrow arched in question. “What’s going on up there?”

  “Do I look like I’m psychic?” Bad question. But she didn’t know what I could do, and I wasn’t that kind of psychic anyway.

  My cousin rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the uselessness of her passenger. If she had to drive me to school, I should at least be able to pay with gossip. The problem was, now that Tanner and I were clearly no longer in almost-dating territory, my new friends disappeared as quickly as rain in the desert.

  “Check your phone.” She demanded, as if I’d have some kind of news alert scrolling on my lock screen.

  Like that was going to help. Still, something in her eyes told me to just do as I’d been told. I tugged my phone out of the side pocket of my bag, and I was looking at a darkened screen. I keyed in the code to unlock it. No messages. No e-mails. No notifications. “Nothing.”

  She rolled her eyes so hard, she almost slammed into the back of the Jeep in front of us. “Crap.”

  I turned away from Scarlett’s rapidly reddening face and studied the school. Something was wrong there too. Dozens of students were milling around the flagpole. If I had to guess, I’d say almost the whole senior class was there. No one was going inside. Instead, after people jogged across the street from the parking lot, they joined the knot in front of the building.

  Adults were outside too. Lots of them. Some I knew. Others were unfamiliar. I knew every teacher at the school. Who were the new faces?

  Too many people were here way too early. Scarlett mumbled under her breath as she noticed the parking lot was almost full. We were going to have to walk almost triple our normal distance to the building.

  “Was there an assembly this morning?”

  I opened the calendar on my phone. “Not that I see.”

  And then my phone started buzzing in my hand.

  Text messages cascaded like water over a dam. A steady stream, one arriving before I had a chance to open the first one, someone clearly needed to get in touch with me.

  “Who are those from?”

  “I don’t know.” The notifications were coming in so quickly, I couldn’t focus.

  “Open a goddamned message.”

  I was already working on it. I clicked on the earliest message, surprised to see Tanner’s number at the top of the screen.

  I know you’re mad, but I need to talk to you.

  Text me back.

  Kennedy, I need you to text me.

  Each message seemed more desperate than the last. That’s when I noticed the time stamps. Something had gone wrong with my phone. The first one came through just after midnight.

  And the messages kept pouring in—ten. Fifteen. Thirty.

  I’d never seen anything like it.

  A red number two announced missed calls.

  Someone left a voicemail, and I didn’t have to think too hard to know who it must have been from. I pressed the screen to call my voice mail.

  “Kennedy, I was a jerk that night. And I’ve been a jerk to you pretty much the whole time since then. I’m sorry. Please, call me back.”

  “Was that Tanner?”

  I didn’t answer Scarlett. Tanner’s most recent message was already playing. “Kennedy, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it yet.”

  “It. What’s he talking about?” Scarlett’s eyes flashed toward the phone as she shouted over the rest of the message.

  “I didn’t hear anything more than you did.” Part of me wanted to throw my phone at her, but that would mean I couldn’t listen to the next message.

  “Please. I really need to talk to you.”

  And another.

  And another.

  The last one was a half-hour ago.
“Look. I don’t know why you’re not answering my calls. I’ll meet you at school.”

  That was when I noticed the news vans parked in front of the building—one for every major network in the area, plus a few appeared to have driven down from Dallas. Something big was happening here.

  We finally pulled into an empty parking space, and Scarlett jumped out of the car while it was basically still moving. “Why does Tanner need to talk to you?”

  News vans. Yellow ribbons. Tanner begging me to call him back.

  I had a pretty good idea of why he needed my particular brand of help. I turned to Scarlett and shrugged. “No idea.”

  I lied, but it didn’t matter. She was practically sprinting through the parking lot, in search of someone to tell her what was going on, since she didn’t really do the whole being-out-of-the-information-loop thing. It shouldn’t take her too long to find out. I could hear the buzz of conversation all the way across the parking lot.

  I reached into the back seat and took my backpack before slamming the door in annoyance. I didn’t like walking into a situation I didn’t understand, and I clearly didn’t understand all the fuss in front of the building. I wrapped my hand around one strap to steady myself.

  That’s when I saw him. Tanner must have been waiting somewhere, watching for Scarlett’s car to arrive.

  He was already weaving through the parked cars, dodging the few drivers hoping for a close spot. His eyes weren’t really watching the traffic. They were fixed on me.

  31

  Rule #122 – Watch out for rip tides

  7:45 a.m.

  Parking lot

  * * *

  I decided to meet him halfway. His hair was dripping from the drizzle and the fog, hinting he’d been here a while. “Why didn’t you call me back?”