by M. H. Soars
I had to run a quick errand for my mother after school let out, so by the time I arrive at practice, all my team mates are already there. Coach Cameron sees me running with helmet in hand and says, “You’re late, Whitfield. Go warm up.”
I join my mates as they run laps around the field. By the sheen of sweat covering their faces, I can see they’ve had a few minutes of warm up already. I catch up with Alex, my team captain. “What did I miss?”
Coach usually gives a two-minute speech before sending us for a jog.
“Not much. We’re playing the Ravens Friday. Nothing to worry about.”
The Ravens is a new team without any tradition. They can’t stand a chance against us. But my father always taught me to never underestimate any adversary, to always play my best, and I intend to.
“What were you up to? Leah keeping you busy again?” Alex asks and I can hear the humor in his tone. Everyone mocks me about my turbulent relationship with her.
“No man. I had to do something for my mother. It took longer than I expected.”
I don’t elaborate because I really don’t want anyone to know that my mother, at the age of forty, is knocked up again. Talk about embarrassment. I’m not naive to believe my parents don’t get their kink on, but her seven-month pregnant belly seems to have a glowing sign saying ‘I had sex’.
“Good to hear. I think it’s time for you to find a new girl to warm your bed. Leah is...something else. I don’t know how you deal with her.”
“She has her moments, but she’s all right.”
“What about Ice Queen?”
Alex’s question about Kimberly rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know if it’s because he called her by that dreadful nickname, or because he asked about her at all.
“What about her?”
My reply is clipped and Alex notices. He glances my way for a brief second before answering.
“Nothing. Just wondering if the rumors were true. I guess not.”
“She’s my partner in English. That’s all.”
“Well, she’s not bad to look at.”
I grind my jaw and don’t say anything. I hope Alex is not considering putting the charm on Kimberly. He gathers as much female attention as I do, if not more. He has the All-American looks going for him, plus his family has money to spare. I know that a lot of girls care about that shit, I hope Kimberly is not one of them.
We finish warming up and practice officially begins. In good time too. My mood is sour.
Two hours later, my mood is no longer sour, it’s downright rancid. I played like shit today. I didn’t catch any of the passes Alex threw my way. I was always too far on the field, or not far enough. My team mates give me hell in the locker room, and I get awarded with the toilet bowl trophy, a special recognition reserved for the LVPP, least valuable player in practice. My friends can be jackasses sometimes. We rarely pull the trophy prank out, unless the magnitude of the suckiness can’t be ignored. Brad was the last one to have been bestowed the honor, after he showed up high as a kite for practice and ended up puking half way through the game. Sometimes, I wonder how our team can be number two in our region.
Alex hands me the trophy once the coaches are gone and after the jokes subside, he turns to me. “Sorry, man. It was by unanimous vote.”
I shrug and throw the plastic toilet trophy on top of my dirty uniform. “Don’t worry. I deserved it.”
“Everything okay with you?” I can hear the worry in Alex’s voice and his expression mirrors it.
“I’m good. I’m having an off day, that’s all.”
He pats my back. “All right, then. But if you need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
I nod to him, knowing I would never dream of telling anyone what my problem is. If I tell my friends that the reason I played like shit is because I can’t stop obsessing about a girl I don’t even like, I’ll never hear the end of it.
Chapter 10
Kimberly
After last night’s conversation with my parents, I decided to call Ross. I may not like him very much right now, but to pull this investigation off, I’ll need all the help I can get. The only problem is Ross didn’t believe me. He argued that Lorenzo planted the letter just in case he got caught, which, in hindsight, was the first thought that crossed my mind, too. Regardless, all my arguments fell on deaf ears, making me realize that Ross was not the person I thought he was. I hung up on him when he called me naive. I might be many things, but naive is not one of them. He tried to reach me several times after that, but I ignored his calls and text messages. I’ve had it with him.
When I arrive at school, I immediately notice Larissa’s absence. She’s usually by her locker around this time. I shoot her a quick text message and her reply is swift. She can’t handle school today and I don’t blame her. I would be going crazy as well if someone in my family was sent to jail thanks to a set up.
Hearing the chatter all around me, I can say she was right to avoid school today. My supposed hook up with Owen is long forgotten and Lorenzo’s arrest is the gossip of the hour. I keep my ears wide open, maybe among the bullshit, I’ll be able to get some valuable insight.
After a while, I realize nobody knows jack shit. I get to my locker and numbly retrieve the books I’ll need for the next couple of hours. I feel a presence next to me and turn to find Ross there.
“Why are you ignoring my calls?” No good morning, no nothing. Just a big load of bad attitude.
“I have nothing to say to you.” I close my locker and prepare to leave. Ross blocks my way.
“Don’t be like that, Kimmy.”
“Be like what, Ross?”
“Unreasonable. You’re not thinking clearly.”
“You have some nerve. If you didn’t have your head stuck up your ass, you would see the truth too.”
“Oh yeah? What truth? That Alex Martin, one of the richest kids in school, stole a bunch of old computers and pinned it on Lorenzo? Please, Kimmy.”
“Like I said, I’m done with this conversation.” I push him out of my way, trying my best to keep my anger in check. I don’t take two steps before Ross grabs my arm.
“Kimmy, wait.”
I glare at him and I’m about to set loose the mother of all tongue lashings when a big shadow appears behind Ross.
“Is there a problem here?” Owen asks, his gaze glued to Ross’s hand on my arm.
Ross lets go of me and turns around. “I’m talking to my girlfriend. Butt out, Whitfield.”
Owen’s hard stare connects with mine. “Are you okay, Kimmy?”
I don’t know what to think right now. I’m mad at Owen for his assumption I need help but the warmth that spreads in my heart is throwing a wrench on my annoyance.
“I’m good,” I say.
Owen stares at me for the longest time and I try not squirm under his intense gaze. There’s nothing sexual about it, but it’s just as unsettling. It’s like he’s trying to read my mind.
“We’re fine here.” Ross’s irritating voice brings the world back into focus again.
Owen’s Adam’s apple bobbles up and down as he swallows hard. I know that there’s a rebuff on the tip of his tongue. I recognize the fight to control one’s need to give an opinion, even if it’s unpopular. I suffer from the same condition. Owen decides Ross is not worth the trouble and finally leaves, with tensed shoulders and loud steps. As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Ross.
“I think it’s high time we clarify things.”
“What do you mean?” Ross frowns, drawing my eyes to his thick, dark brows. I never noticed before how unruly they were.
“We’re done, Ross.” I say, ignoring his sudden too-obvious feature and staring into his dark eyes.
His steady, almost expressionless eyes flash with emotion, my unexpected statement bringing forth something Ross didn’t kn
ow he possessed or had suppressed throughout the length of our relationship.
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asks.
“What do you think?”
Now that the door to his true feelings have been opened, fury takes over his expression, twisting him into something almost feral. I take a step back, remembering the time when Grandma blew up the kitchen because she didn’t put enough liquid in the pressure cooker. Ross is that dried up pressure cooker, ready to blow. “You know what? Screw you, Kimberly.”
He turns on his heel, an over exaggerated motion that doesn’t suit him. His heavy steps belong to a petulant child. Six months, I’ve wasted six months of my life with a repressed kitchen accessory. If only he had shown that kind of explosive nature in bed.
* * *
Owen
I drove home after practice determined to extract Kimberly Dawson from my head, no matter what. My desperation had been so great, I booty-called Leah. She hung up on me, leaving me to my own devices. I took a very cold shower instead. I wasn’t desperate for sex, I was desperate for a distraction. And Leah with her self-absorbed nature would have done the trick. I’m glad that she blew me off though. She’s a hindrance I really don’t need.
I woke up early this morning, sporting the mother of morning woods, thanks to the crazy, sexy dream I had featuring Kimberly. This crazy attraction was getting ridiculous and I realized to my dismay there was only one thing I could do to get over Ice Queen, getting her under me. I was fucked.
As soon as I get to school, I seek her out. My heart drums loudly in my chest as I navigate the busy hallway, smiling and waving at strangers like we are old friends. That never bothered me before, I used to eat that shit up. Not today. I feel oddly invaded, like people are going through my secrets with their stares.
I spot Kimberly straight ahead, by her locker. Her presence is like a beacon, calling to me. She’s facing the opposite direction and there’s a tall, skinny guy in front of her. Irritation and anger shoots through my veins and I increase my pace. The emotion is similar to when I’m on the field, waiting for Alex’s pass as the crowd roars in the background. The difference is that there’s a bitter taste under my tongue now that I never experience when I’m playing football. I don’t know what this raw, untamed emotion is.
Kimberly tries to walk around the guy, but he grabs her arm, turning her around. I see red, and it takes superhuman control to keep me from leveling the guy. I’m not a violent person, never was. Humor is my greatest weapon. Or it had been. Somehow, somewhere, in the space of two days, I went from a regular guy to Bruce Banner, trying to keep the Hulk from springing forth. I don’t recognize myself anymore.
I stop behind the idiot holding Kimberly, interrupting something she was about to say.
“Is there a problem here?” I ask.
The guy turns around, looks me up and down, measuring me and somehow, finding me lacking. He says Kimberly is his girlfriend and a wave of disappointment washes over me. What is a girl like her doing with a loser like him? I ignore ‘the boyfriend’ and ask Kimberly directly if she’s okay. A hint of surprise flashes in her gaze and I don’t know if I should be happy or annoyed that she didn’t think I would come to her rescue. I stare right into her eyes, trying to guess what’s she’s thinking. I’ve never met a girl I couldn’t decipher until now. They are usually pretty obvious about what they want from me, even when they try to play games.
Her boyfriend’s grating voice brings my surroundings back into focus. I shift my gaze in his direction and I want to say something to him, but I can’t come up with anything that will make sense at this point. ‘I’m into your girlfriend so take your filthy paws off her arm’ is probably not gonna fly. I swallow my irritation and walk away, wishing for a punching bag to pummel down.
Chapter 11
Kimberly
I wait for bloody Owen to show up at the library for thirty minutes. We had an appointment to go over our ideas for the English assignment. I must have sent him dozens of messages, asking where the hell he was. I’m not usually one to blow up somebody’s phone with text messages, but I want to finish this stupid English assignment so I can get on with my life and not deal with the guy anymore.
His radio silence pisses me off more than anything, especially after his knight in shining armor behavior from earlier. What’s his deal?
Resigned that he stood me up, I put the research I had already done for the assignment away and pull my laptop from my bag. At this hour, I should be at the newspaper room, working on real stories that would get published, and thus beefing up my resume. I haven’t told my parents yet about the punishment I received from our illustrious principal, so in school I must remain until it’s my time to go home.
Thankfully, I have Lorenzo’s investigation to keep me busy. I haven’t heard a word from Sebastian’s dad yet, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do anything. I spend the next hour learning anything I can about Alex Martin. My knowledge about him is minimal, just the usual stuff that the entire school knows. He comes from an affluent family, only child. His dad is the CFO of a local bank and his mother volunteers in several charities. The majority of the pictures on his Facebook page are from vacation with his parents, football, and a few with his former girlfriend, Alicia. I remember vaguely when they broke up right before summer. The rumor mill practically exploded with gossip about the golden couple. Since I was never one to pay attention to who was dating whom, I didn’t know the nasty details.
I make a mental note to search for Alicia later, outside of school, when she’s not surrounded by her entourage. Lucky for me, I know where she works, at the same store as Larissa.
I go back to Alex’s main page and see that there’s a new update on his feed. He’s about to go to football practice. I collect all of my things and rush out of the library. I won’t gain any real insight on the guy by just following him on social media. To know the enemy, you must get close to the enemy, and that’s what I intended to do. So I join the throng of pathetically infatuated girls that are already on the bleachers, swooning and moaning over the football players.
Lorenzo, you’d better be innocent, because this is hell.
I sit as far away as possible from the football groupies and don’t make eye contact with any of them. Through my peripheral, I see some look in my direction. I ignore their stares. By coming here, I just gave those girls proof that I hooked up with Owen and I’m now stalking him. Frigging fantastic.
I search for Alex on the field, they are not wearing their helmets yet, so it’s easy to spot him. The air has gotten cooler so I pull my hoodie up. It’s also great to keep my identity semi hidden. I don’t want the guys to recognize me from the field.
I observe Alex for only a couple of minutes before my gaze latches onto Owen and doesn’t let go. He looks so much taller and broader with his pads on. His short golden hair shines under the sun and I feel a crazy urge to see if the buzzed cut is soft or prickly. Alex throws the ball to Owen and he catches it easily with all the grace and power of a big cat. I shake my head, trying to dispel the awe from my thoughts.
Owen turns in my direction and pauses. He squints and I try to hide further under my hoodie. But I know he recognized me. Drat. I hope he doesn’t think I’m here because of him.
The practice is over after a couple of hours and I prepare to do what I came here for, get closer to Alex. What I’m going to say to him, I still have no bloody clue. I was never good at flirting and the mere thought of trying to seduce Alex brings bile into my mouth.
I don’t think anyone knows yet I got kicked off the newspaper, so I can pretend I’m here to seek an interview with him. I berate myself for the half-baked excused I come up with, but I’m grasping at straws here. I leave the bleachers and almost sprint toward the locker room as the players exit the field. I want to catch Alex before he goes in. I’ve already wasted too much of my day watching a stupid football p
ractice. I see Alex talking animatedly with one his team mates and I stride toward him. I don’t anticipate Owen getting in my way.
“Looking for me?” he asks.
I stop in my tracks and make the mistake to look up. There’s a smug grin on his lips and his eyes seem to be dancing with satisfaction. What’s that all about? His blond hair is darker with sweat and his face is drenched. He also has a mud stain on his cheek. His appearance should totally gross me out, but it has the complete opposite effect on me. My fingers are itching to wipe the smear from his face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alex pass us by, quickly disappearing inside the locker room behind us. I don’t want Owen to know I was actually stalking his captain, so I lie.
“Yes. You were supposed to meet me at the library earlier.”
Owen raises an eyebrow. “I was? I guess it totally slipped my mind.”
“I called and texted you,” I say through clenched teeth.
He shrugs. “I didn’t notice. We can meet now.”
“What?” I wasn’t expecting that.
“No time like the present.”
“You’re filthy.”
“I can shower in two minutes. Wait for me?” He moves closer and I take a step back.
“I’ve waited for you plenty already.”
“Aww, Kimmy. What’s two more minutes?”
I’m about to give in when a hurricane hits us loud and hard. His girlfriend Leah. Screaming like a banshee, she says a bunch of stuff to Owen, machine gun style. I can barely understand a word she’s saying. That’s how fast she’s talking. I have to hand it Owen, he handles it like a pro. Not once does he scream back. He takes it like a man who knows he fucked up. I seize that opportunity to escape unseen. I know I’m two seconds away from being in the range of Leah’s fury. She has already accused me of being a home wrecker. I don’t need a reprise.