“Infomercials,” I said.
Bryce laughed and wiped his hands on his pajama pants before grabbing the house phone off the side table. “These are the best. I love calling and asking them questions.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll see,” he grinned mischievously, waggling his eyebrows, and punched in the number.
Someone answered and Bryce said, “Yes, I’m calling about this magical vacuum that claims to do everything.”
The person said something and Bryce came back with, “If it does everything, does that mean it mows the lawn? Ah, I see, so it doesn’t do everything. That sir, is false advertising!” he hung up the phone and we both dissolved into fits of giggles.
“Mow the lawn?”
“It claims to do everything,” he retorted. “Let’s try another one.”
Bryce and I took turns calling for a good hour before I said to him, “Does Caeden seem okay to you?”
“Yeah,” Bryce said. “You don’t think so?”
I shook my head. “He’s being weird.”
“Caeden’s always weird,” Bryce snorted.
“No he’s not,” I said. “He’s never like this.”
“He did kill someone today.”
“So did I,” I whispered and picked at the frayed ends of my pajama shorts. I leaned my head back and looked at the dark wood beams crisscrossing the ceiling. “And besides, he doesn’t act regretful, he seems stressed.”
“Regretful? Why would he be regretful about killing Travis? Are you regretful about killing Robert?”
“Not regretful per say… just… I don’t know… I know I had to save you, I don’t take that back, but I killed someone. I killed him,” I said again. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s just a lot to deal with. Killing someone. Deserved or not.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Sophie. Caeden seems fine to me.”
“I guess I’m just being paranoid.”
“We should go to be,” Bryce looked at the clock. “It’s two in the morning.” He stood and stretched, heading out of the room.
“I guess I better try and get some sleep,” I said but made no move to leave.
“You coming?”
“Nah, I think I’ll sleep here,” I said and grabbed the blanket Bryce had been wrapped in. It still held the warmth of his body heat.
Bryce quirked a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”
“No.”
“Huh,” Bryce walked away.
I cupped my hands under my head as a pillow and fell asleep.
* * *
“Sophie! Sophie!” a panicked voice cried.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The gray blanket fell from my lap to the rug of the family room.
“Sophie! Where are you? Soph! Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Feet pounded down the steps. “What have I done? Oh no, oh no, oh no!”
“Caeden?” I sat up and pushed my dark locks from my face.
I heard more muttering and some thumps.
I pushed my tired body up from the couch and out into the entryway. “Caeden?” I said into the hallway.
“Sophie?” Caeden stuck his head out from the mudroom. “Oh thank God! You’re safe!” He wrapped his arms around me, his breath stirring the hair at my neck. “I thought-”
“What did you think?” I pushed at him and he reluctantly pulled away.
“I thought…” he rubbed his face, I could hear his hands rasp against his scruff. “Nothing,” he finally muttered.
“Really? Because you seemed really freaked out.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He ran his fingers through his hair making it stick up wildly around his head. His blue eyes were darker than normal. “Nothing, it was nothing,” he started up the steps.
The front door opened then, startling me, and Caeden whipped back around and down the steps. He stood protectively in front of me but it was only Amy.
“Geez mom,” Caeden said.
“What?” Amy said.
“You scared me,” he said. “I thought someone was breaking in.”
“Since when do burglars carry keys to the house they’re breaking into?”
“Um, never.”
“Exactly,” she closed and locked the door. “I am going to take a long hot bath and sleep until noon. Do not disturb me,” she went upstairs.
“This house is full of nuts,” Caeden muttered. He turned and when he saw I wasn’t following he said, “Coming?”
I looked at the couch and my neck and back screamed in protest.
“Yeah.”
Fifteen.
“You want to tryout for the boy’s team?” the coach asked with a look of stunned disbelief.
“Coach!” Evan cried. “You didn’t see her play! She’s amazing!”
The coach looked me up and down. “I don’t know.”
I sighed. “Just let me try out. If I suck I don’t make the team. Easy as that,” I leaned against the bleachers.
Coach Johnston narrowed his eyes and gave me a look. “Fine, you can tryout,” a challenging quality to his voice.
Challenge accepted, bud.
Evan noticed my smirk and winked.
Evan, Cam, Riley, Tyler, Kyle, Shane, and Brody welcomed me with open arms but the other guys were pissed.
“Coach, you can’t let a girl tryout for the boy’s team! That’s what the girl’s team is for!”
“Shut it Jake,” the coach snapped. “There’s no rule that says girls can’t tryout or be on the boy’s team. Besides, she’ll probably suck,” he muttered under his breath. Without my shifter hearing I would’ve never heard him.
“Don’t worry about coach,” Brody said, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “He’ll come around when he sees how amazing you are.”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, getting into pushup position, “he seems a little old school.”
Cam snorted. “Coach is a bit stuck in the past.”
We all looked over at Coach’s short shorts. “Ew,” I said. “Get me some bleach to clean out my eyes.”
The boys laughed. “I swear, if Coach Johnston doesn’t let you on the team I’m quitting,” Tyler said.
“How many pushups do we have to do?” Shane asked, pulling his chin length hair back.
“One-hundred!” Coach called, overhearing our conversation.
Shane grumbled before dropping down on the ground and starting his pushups.
I finished and sat back on my heels.
“You’re done?” Evan asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” I said, tightening my ponytail.
“But you’re not even sweating!” Kyle said.
“Or out of breath,” Brody added.
I shrugged.
“This girl is bad ass,” Shane said as he pushed off the ground.
“Beaumont!” Coach yelled. “Why aren’t you doing your pushups?”
“I’m done… sir,” I added.
“Huh,” he pondered for a moment. “One-hundred sit-ups and I’m going to count.”
“No problem,” I said.
Coach held the end of my feet and started counting. When the guys finished their pushups they formed a circle around me, counting along with the coach.
“Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine! One-hundred!”
Coach stood up wordlessly. He marched off before returning and said, “Let’s see if you can play some soccer.”
I smiled.
Coach divided us up, tossing a group of us red jerseys to wear.
Evan clapped me on the back. “Let’s do this Beaumont.”
* * *
Coach paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. I sat on the bleachers with the seven boys that were quickly becoming my second pack.
Coach Johnston picked up his clipboard; ticking over various points, and muttered some more.
“Is he –uh- okay?” I tapped my skull.
Cam shoved sweat-dampened hair away from his eyes. “He’s a bit cracked but he’s the best soccer coach I’ve ever had
.”
“I’ll second that,” Shane said. “Even if we’ve never won.”
Finally the coach tossed his clipboard down. It smacked against the bleachers with a clang.
“I’ll post the names of those who made the team on the bulletin board outside my office on Monday.”
Coach started to leave but one of the other boys- Carter I think his name was- called out to him. “But Coach- what about the person with the highest score? The automatic spot on the team.”
Evan leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “Coach always scores us on everything we do at tryouts. The person with the highest score automatically makes the team.”
Coach put his hands on his hips. His belly extended from the waistband of his way too short, shorts.
“Sophie.”
“Excuse me?” The guy assumed was Carter asked.
“Sophie has the highest score. She makes the team. And close your mouth before you catch flies with that thing. I’ll see ya’ll on Monday,” he stalked off towards the parking lot.
Cam, Tyler, Shane, Brody, Evan, Kyle, and Riley took turns giving me fist bumps.
We gathered up our gym bags and made our way to the parking lot.
“Sophie needs a nickname,” Kyle said.
“Super Sophie,” Evan grinned.
“Sassy Sophie,” Riley suggested.
“I am not sassy,” I laughed.
“True,” Riley shrugged.
They bounced more nicknames around as we walked. When we reached our cars a voice called out, “What about she-wolf?”
I turned to find Caeden leaning against his motorcycle, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was still damp from a shower, little droplets of water dripping onto his shirt.
“She-wolf? I like it,” Brody said and then howled into the night sky. The other guys joined in.
“See ya later Sophie!” They called.
“Bye guys,” I waved over my shoulder. I couldn’t help letting out a little laugh.
“Since it’s a short ride I didn’t think you’d mind taking the bike,” he handed me a helmet.
I worried my lip with my teeth.
He smiled; it was a little smile, not his typical mega-watt one. “Don’t worry, I can see perfectly in the dark.”
Just then car lights swung by us, and Caeden’s eyes glowed an eerie green color, just like that of an animal’s.
I stuck the helmet on my head and he did the same. He swung his leg over the bike and turned the key. The engine thrummed.
Sophie, don’t be a wimp. I thought to myself.
I climbed onto the bike and gripped Caeden’s shirt before I could talk myself out of it.
Remember, we’re two minutes from your house. Caeden projected his thoughts to me.
Two minutes too long.
He laughed, but like with his smile, it was half-hearted.
Knowing that I was terrified of the beast Caeden drove as slow as was safe and it ended up taking us five minutes to get to Gram’s.
I was handing Caeden the helmet when he thought to ask if I made the team.
“I did,” I tried to flatten my helmet hair. “Apparently I had the highest points so I got the only automatic position on the team.”
Caeden raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “What can I say? I rock.”
He laughed and this time it was closer to his normal chuckle. Relief flooded my veins.
My stomach rumbled.
“I think Lucinda made spaghetti,” he started towards the house. “When I left it looked like enough to feed a small army.”
“Or a very hungry wolf,” I followed behind him.
The door was unlocked so Caeden just walked right in.
“Gram!” I called. “I hear you made your famous spaghetti!”
Gram came around the corner from the kitchen and kissed me on the forehead. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach. “I heard you were trying out for the soccer team so I figured we had cause to celebrate. You did make the team, right?” She raised a gray eyebrow.
“I made the only automatic position on the boys team,” I said.
Gram hooted and hollered, bent over with laughter. “That’s my Sophie girl! Making the boy’s team! I bet you made them all look like idiotic five year olds stumbling over their feet!” She led me to the kitchen and handed me a plate of steaming noodles before she spooned her homemade sauce on top. Yum.
“I do feel a bit bad though. I mean, my shifter abilities make me a lot stronger.”
Gram shook her head. “Sophie, you were an amazing soccer player before you shifted. You’re just a little extra amazing now.”
“How would you even know? You never saw me play.”
“Your dad used to brag about it, he sent me a few home videos. They’re still around here somewhere,” she puttered away, probably in search of old VHS tapes.
I grabbed a spoon and fork from the drawer and sat down at the table. Using my spoon I made a perfect swirl of spaghetti.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Caeden asked, shoveling the noodles into his mouth. Red sauce sat adorably in the corner of his mouth.
“A Barbie movie.”
Caeden snorted. “A Barbie movie?”
I pointed my fork at him. “Listen here bud, Barbie can be far more educational than stuff boys watch.”
“Did you also learn how to hold a tea cup?”
I threw my fork at him but he caught it midair. Stupid shifter reflexes.
“Are you going to throw it at me again?” he held my fork hostage.
“No,” I held my hand out.
He handed it back to me and I swirled some more spaghetti.
“And don’t diss boys shows, I learned a lot from them.”
“Like how to survive in a sewer?” I quirked a brow.
Caeden laughed. “You never know when that might prove useful.”
“Hopefully never.”
* * *
Caeden and I finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. I finished wiping the table clean and tossed the cloth in the sink.
“Wanna watch some TV?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, “let me grab my homework.”
I grabbed my backpack from my room and sat down on the floor. I pulled my books out and piled them on the coffee table. Caeden settled the TV on some wrestling channel.
I pulled out my math worksheets and finished the few problems I had left before tackling my English essay.
“Do you ever do homework?” I asked Caeden.
He grinned, dimple flashing into view. “Of course I do, I don’t want to fail.”
“I never see you do any,” I tapped my pencil against the wood table.
“I’m just that awesome,” he said.
“Seriously, when do you get it done?”
“Usually after you go to sleep. I like to watch you-”
“And that’s not creepy at all,” I rolled my eyes.
“What? You’re cute when you sleep. You wrinkle your nose and say my name.”
“I say your name?”
He leaned forward. “Apparently I star in all your dreams.”
I blushed, but before I could retort, loud cursing filled the house.
“Gram?” I asked. “You okay?”
“Damn men,” she said. “I fell in the toilet.”
I busted out laughing. Tears of laughter coursed down my face. “Oh God,” I said, still laughing.
Caeden was blushing. Even his ears were red. “I did tell you I can never remember to put the toilet seat down.”
Sixteen.
I managed to finish my English essay, my Spanish essay, and start on my history powerpoint. Caeden called me an overachiever.
It was lunch, on Monday, and I kept getting angry stares from several of the guys who had been at the soccer tryouts. Since I knew I made the team I hadn’t bothered looking at the list but I knew there were going to be a good many that didn’t make the team.
Insider (Outsider Series) Page 17