PROVE IT!
Susanne Matthews
© M.H. Susanne Matthews 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web -without permission in writing from the author.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Very proud of you!
It’s always good to promote family in their endeavors. My nephew, Andrew Matthews, is one of the musicians in Mrs. Strange is a new band based in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Soda Music is their newest release. You can learn more about the band and its music here.
http://ridethetempo.com/2016/04/06/listen-strange-soda-music/
DEDICATION
To my wonderful granddaughter, Hannah Matthews Celius, the first star in my sky. Merry Christmas! You’ve grown into a beautiful, vibrant young lady, with so many marvelous adventures ahead of you. May your life’s journey be one of excitement and wonder, and may you find your happily ever after.
Chapter One
“I don’t care who’s behind this,” Liam Howard lied angrily, unable to keep his frustration hidden from his best friend. Dropping the phone onto the desk, he yanked his t-shirt over his head before picking up the handset once more.
As different as any two people could possibly be, he and Erik Jenkins had been inseparable from the first day of their sophomore year, drawn together by circumstances beyond their control when they were both chosen to attend Ivy Hills.
“No one’s going to scare me out of competing. I need that scholarship money. My whole future depends on it.”
“Damn it, Liam, if you don’t take this threat seriously, you won’t have a future. This is nothing to joke about. You aren’t an ostrich, even though you can probably run as fast as one,” Erik answered, his voice, even as tinny as it sounded over the phone, conveyed his concern. “Burying your head in the sand won’t make this go away.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. I’m not ignoring the notes; I’m just trying to put them in perspective. They started last spring and other than a few annoying pranks this fall, nothing bad has happened. Someone’s messing with my head, and I won’t let them take this chance away from me. I can’t,” Liam insisted, even though they were doing just that since the most recent note had scared the crap out of him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He tried to swallow his discomfort. Talking to Erik, who was a doom and gloom kind of person at the best of times, was making matters worse.
“I know you think it’s one of the guys, and I’ll admit some of the students can be jerks, but I can’t believe this is a real threat. It’s just someone trying to yank my chain. It happens all the time.”
“Bull! This is more than routine bullying, and you know it. We get to walk the hallowed halls of Ivy Hills each day, only because of some archaic rule in their charter that insists two boys from the community have to be admitted each four-year cycle. If they could amend that rule, believe me, they would.”
“Maybe that’s true for some of them,” Liam conceded, his heart heavy, knowing how Erik had struggled to make friends these past three years, but it was about to pay off for both of them. “But I can’t see anyone on the track team being involved in something like this. They’re all decent guys.”
“So you say, but since September, your lucky shoes have vanished, your locker was vandalized, your warm-up jacket ripped to shreds, and at your last race, someone filled your water bottles with vinegar. That’s not funny; it’s just plain mean. Who but someone on the track team had access to your stuff? I can’t even get in there, and I’m your best friend. If you’d poured that vinegar on your face, you might’ve blinded yourself.”
“You need to pay closer attention in science class. Vinegar may be an acid, but it’s a mild one. Would’ve been incredibly painful, but wouldn’t have done any permanent damage. Besides, my nose works fine. The minute I opened the cap, I knew it wasn’t water. The smell was too strong to ignore. I’ll admit losing the shoes was a pain and having my locker trashed does bother me, but the coach replaced the shoes a couple of days ago, Caleb gave me some water after the race, Dooley repainted my locker, and Josh is helping me get a new jacket. It’s definitely not someone on the team. They’re as upset by the pranks as I am.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on that? You’re so focused on winning that scholarship next spring when we graduate, you’re ignoring the danger here. For years, freebies, like us, were pretty much ignored, because none of them rocked the boat. The silver-spooned darlings won all the awards, all the medals, and got all of the publicity. You’ve changed that, and someone’s pissed about it.”
“Back the truck up. You’re just as guilty as I am. MIT has accepted your application for that scholarship. If your marks are as good this year as they were last year, you’ll be a shoo-in.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. Sure, it’s a full ticket, but nerds like me don’t generally get the glory. Unlike you, my face won’t be plastered on sports’ magazines all over the country. You could be the next Usain Bolt.”
“You’re exaggerating. I may be fast, but he’s the fastest man on Earth. He’s also got legs eight inches longer than mine.” He laughed. “Seriously, I know things at Ivy Hills haven’t been the best, but they haven’t been that bad.”
Erik’s silence spoke volumes.
“Fine, have it your way. Maybe it was harder for you since you aren’t involved in any sports,” Liam conceded, “but it still makes no sense. The entire school borders on fanaticism when it comes to school accomplishments. Ivy Hills has to be the best, and right now, in track, that’s me. When I win that scholarship in June, the whole school will benefit.”
“Humor me for a minute. Let’s say you played it safe and backed down; who would win the next meet?”
“That’s easy. Malcolm Porter from Central. He’s the only one in the state who’s got a chance of beating me—a slim chance since I’ve cleaned his clock in every race we’ve run. There isn’t anyone on the Ivy Hills’ team whose time is even close to mine or his. That’s why having someone from Ivy Hills behind this makes no sense. When I win, the school wins, and the last thing they would want is for a regular high school to snatch that award away from them. This is the first time the school’s even been in the running—pardon the pun.”
“Go ahead and joke all you want to, but someone’s out to get you.”
“Listen to me. If I were to throw a race—and that’s a big ‘if’—I would be in more trouble than you could imagine. We may not be the most popular guys at school, but if I don’t win because I choked, I’ll just be adding to the problems faced by whoever follows us. No one else on the track team needs the New Horizon scholarship, but everyone wants the publicity behind the win. The school doesn’t need the ten grand honorarium to improve its track program, either. Any one of the board members could provide that, and it would be nothing but chump change for them, but the publicity generated by the award and the possibility of adding a runner to the next Olympic trials is huge and can mean endowments and who knows what else. No one from Ivy Hills can be behind this, but if it will make you feel better, if I get another message next week, I’ll show it to the coach.”
“You should show him this one,” Erik stated, his determination clear in the tone of his voice.
“Can’t d
o that,” Liam said and sighed. “I tossed it before we left the building.” Considering Erik’s unease, maybe he shouldn’t have done it, but if Mom had found that note… “There was no way I wanted Mata Hari to find it when she went through my bag. She still sees checking the backpack each night as part of her ‘mom’ duties.”
“Yeah, if she found it, she would go ballistic and never let you out of her sight again. She can be a tad overprotective.”
“A tad?” Liam laughed so hard he snorted. “That’s like saying Mr. Quigley is a tad overweight, when we all know he tips the scale at close to three hundred pounds. When it comes to my safety, it’s as if I’m still an infant. One of these days, she’s got to ease up.”
“Don’t count on it. She’ll be keeping tabs on you until you’re old and gray.”
Liam sobered. Losing Michael five years ago had changed his parents, especially his mother, but he wasn’t his brother. He was the cautious one, the one who never took chances, but he wasn’t a whining tattletale either. This was his problem, his battle to fight. If he didn’t stand up to the bullies, they would win. He just wished this particular bully had a face.
“Mom means well, but … Listen. I’ve got to go. I haven’t run on the road in ages, and this next meet is an outdoor one. The new shoes the coach gave me are great, but I need to break them in a little more. The weather’s finally let up, and there’s a couple of hours of daylight left, so I have to go out and train. When I get back, I want to call Hannah.”
“Hannah Connors?” Erik asked and whistled. “So, you’re taking the plunge and asking her out. Dude, I wish I had your guts. Where are you taking her?”
“You know the trip to Lalonde’s haunted corn maze on Saturday? The one arranged by the 4 H club? I thought I would ask her to come as my date. Her cousin Mina will be there. What’s the worst Hannah can say?”
“I don’t know. How about, ‘get lost?’ That’s what she said to Malcolm,” he answered and chuckled. “Just because she told Mari she wasn’t seeing anyone doesn’t mean she wants to date you. It’s your funeral.”
A shiver ran down Liam’s spine. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Forget I said that,” Erik answered, embarrassment obvious in his tone. “You’ll be fine. While you’re at it, ask her what my chances would be with Mina.”
Liam shook off the momentary dread Erik’s words had caused.
“The tech nerd and the soccer player? This I have to see. Right now, I’ve got a definite date with Mother Nature and the highway.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea, especially after today’s note? People know your routine—”
“Give it a rest, Erik,” Liam answered through gritted teeth. “I told you it’s all someone’s dumb idea of a big joke. I’ll call you after I speak to Hannah. Wish me luck.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you need more than luck—you need your head examined—but be careful out there. I hope everything works out with Hannah.”
“Me, too. I’ll call you after I talk to her.”
Liam hung up the phone, finished dressing in his favorite cold weather running gear, and grabbed the new runners. Hurrying down the stairs, careful to keep his IPod hidden in his pocket, he entered the kitchen and headed toward the fridge. Mom would have a fit if she knew he planned to listen to music while he ran. It was a violation of her safety protocols, but he would be fine. He’d done it a hundred times. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
That thought brought him back to the bullying notes in his gym locker. The slips of paper, each with a similar typed message on them had been getting more and more threatening. At first, he’d ignored them, but then, when his shoes had gone missing, he’d spoken to the coach. Not much in the way of support there. It was bad form to accuse trust fund babies of theft, especially when the cost of those shoes was less than pocket change to them. Refusing to be cowed, he’d worn his regular sneakers and had still come out on top.
The threat last week, the one claiming if he didn’t back down he would regret it, had annoyed him and goaded him to try harder, and he’d won the 10 K cross-country race by a full two minutes, finishing in under thirty-eight minutes.
Track and Field consisted of cross-country in the fall and distance and relay races in the spring, but everyone knew that to win, training had to take place all year long. To that end, Liam worked out in the school gym and swam in the pool, but the unofficial indoor and outdoor races when Mother Nature permitted, provided the real challenges. He was, as Erik said, a lean, mean, running machine. At five foot nine, he was all legs, as gangly as a young colt, as his mother put it, but he could run, faster than anyone in his age category in the state of Maine, and that ability would open the doors to the future he dreamed of.
All summer long, he’d honed his skills, focusing on improving not only his speed but his endurance. Since he helped out with the chores on the farm, he’d built up some upper body strength, but his focus had been on his legs. He’d run a number of local races, coming out on top each time. When school had started seven weeks ago, the final year that would culminate in graduation and hopefully the New Horizon Scholarship, he was in the best shape ever. At the moment, everyone was focused on cross-country, but once the snow came to stay, other than a couple of outdoor events, most of the interschool meets would be indoor competitions designed to improve time and stamina for next spring’s races. He’d taken up skate-skiing last winter and looked forward to doing more of that once the snow set in. It was the best way he knew how to exercise upper and lower body at once.
Prior to each of last spring’s races and this fall’s cross-country meets, he’d received a vaguely worded threat, urging him to back down. In the spring, other than the notes, nothing had happened, but this fall, things had been different from the get-go. At each meet, something had gone wrong with his gear. He was fairly certain the coach knew something was up, but he hadn’t said anything, so Liam had kept his mouth shut, too. No sense taking a stick to a hornets’ nest. Besides, who could he accuse? Unfortunately, the note he’d found today when he’d gone to get his gear out of his gym locker was different.
YOU WERE WARNED. YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED. YOU WON’T LIVE TO REGRET IT.
While he could tell himself that this was all a bad joke, might even believe it for a minute or two, the fact was, he was worried. If his mother ever found out he’d been threatened, she would be all over him like cheap cologne, and if his head wasn’t in the race, he wouldn’t win. The last thing he wanted after three years of competition was to lose his edge. As he’d told Erik, he had no intention of throwing a race, especially not one Hannah would be watching.
Liam couldn’t pinpoint the moment when impressing Hannah had become critical to him, but regardless of when it had happened, what she thought of him was crucial to his well-being. It was strange how they’d known one another, practically from the cradle, without any special interest in each other, but now, just looking at her made his heart beat faster … and when she smiled and looked at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes, he went all goofy inside.
As painfully shy as he’d been, he’d been content to worship from afar, like those old romantic poets he’d learned about last year, but he’d gained a little confidence lately. If everything worked out, and it looked as if it would, she was about to become the center of his universe. A trip to the haunted maze, with an hour bus ride each way, was just the beginning, and would give them time to compare notes on what they had in common. They could start with the passions they shared. She was a runner, just as he was, and had done well the last couple of years, but Hannah’s greatest loves were cross-country skiing and horses—not necessarily in that order.
Hannah kept her horse at her cousin’s farm, and he’d often seen them riding in the distance. In the past, he’d been afraid to gallop over and ride with them, but not anymore. Dad had bought him a palomino for his birthday earlier this month, and as soon as he had the chance, he would watch for Hanna
h and Mina, and join them. In the meantime, he would get to know her better. Of course, if she turned him down it would mess with his head, but as his father always said, “Think positive,” and he would. Besides, he’d already asked Mari, Erik’s sister, if she thought he had a chance with Hannah, and her answer had been a resounding “yes.”
But if I keep dwelling on those darn notes, I’ll lose my focus and my nerve. If that happens, whoever’s behind this will win, and the race won’t be the only thing I’ll lose.
“Mom, I’ll be back in an hour or so,” he said, as he crossed behind her back and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Unscrewing the cap, he took a long pull before tightening it once more. Between the note and his nerves over asking Hannah out, the walls were closing in. He needed to get out there sooner rather than later.
“You can’t be serious,” his mother answered, picking up the wooden spoon and attacking whatever was in the bowl in front of her. “You’re not going out running in that. It’s a mess out there.”
That was the aftermath of a fall nor’easter that had brought snow and freezing rain, which had coated the trees in a mixture of white fluff and ice. Caleb, one of the track team members from Alabama, where snow wasn’t a common occurrence, had waxed poetic about it since it had started on Tuesday, claiming it looked like some sort of fairyland, or maybe even Asgard, one of the nine realms of Norse mythology. To Liam, this kind of heavy wet snow often meant downed trees and powerlines, and when it arrived when the animals were still in the fields, it was a pain in the butt—a tangible example of the vast difference between a farmer’s son and those born with a silver spoon in their mouths.
Liam smiled at his mother and the way she was now furiously beating the contents of the bowl, as if she could take out her frustrations on whatever was in there and not him. Mom had never understood why he had to be outdoors no matter what kind of weather there was. She’d often had to bribe his brother to leave the house, but not him. Over time, his need for fresh air had become a family joke, and the photo album testified to that with countless pictures of him in a yellow slicker standing in the pouring rain, his face raised to the sky, and Mike, dressed the same, with a pout on that would put even the grouchiest person to shame.
Prove It! Page 1