“They looked so good in their uniforms. Why did they make them change into jeans?” Megan pouted when she returned from getting a hot chocolate.
“Probably because it’s freaking cold out here,” I chuckled.
“Bah. Who cares about the cold when there are hot boys in uniforms?” she snickered.
I raised my eyebrow at her statement and laughed at her. Though it was true that Zack looked really good in his uniform, which made me want to come to more games in the future, I wanted him to be comfortable.
The bonfire took a little effort to light, but it was an awe-inspiring sight. The flames soared into the air and we were forced to take a few steps back due to the overwhelming heat.
Once everyone settled down, the coach launched into an enthusiastic speech about how tough the season had been, but was proud of his guys for pulling it out in the end. He then thanked everyone for their support and pointed to the key players as they took turns talking about the season.
When it was Zack’s turn, he looked right at me and winked. The firelight made him look like a model or a forgotten god. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. He appeared nervous, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he was in control of his jitters.
“I started the school year late and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to play. I was so happy when the team agreed to give me a spot and encouraged me to play my best. It’s hard starting a new school and stepping out onto the field with a new team. You have to prove yourself and earn everyone’s trust. I want to thank everyone for giving me a chance to play and for supporting me. This team is a family and I’m proud to be a part of it. I hope that we can shine during the playoffs and bring home the win, but either way, I’m excited to be a part of something larger. Congratulations to everyone tonight! Go Tigers!” he shouted, throwing an air punch at the end.
The parents and students huddled together in front of the warm fire and cheered and clapped for Zack and the team. His teammates patted him on the back and his coach actually teared up a little. This was Zack’s time to shine and I was proud of him. I couldn’t understand why he hated playing when I saw the joy he felt during his speech.
On some level, it made me sad because no one really knew Zack. This was the version that pretended his life was okay. This was the person he wanted everyone to remember long after the game was over and we graduated. Perhaps that was the reason he hated playing. He had to pretend to be someone else to feel like he was a part of something greater.
Everyone stood around and told stories about previous wins and losses. They talked about the players from years past and pointed to some of the alumni who had once played on this very field. The atmosphere was intoxicating and I enjoyed hearing about the glory days, as they put it.
About a half an hour into the celebration, a light drizzle began coming down from the cloud-covered skies. The raindrops hit the fire and made little puffs of steam fly up into the air. The excitement died down when the rain came down harder and people started to head home. The players all congratulated each other one last time and walked toward the parking lot or found their families. Zack walked straight over to me.
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Megan asked, looking out toward the parking lot for her mom’s minivan. She put her blanket over her head and wiped the rain off her face.
“Zack’s taking me home,” I smiled, pulling my hood up.
Megan winked at me. “I’ll tell my mom that your mom picked you up.”
I thanked her for covering for me and said goodbye to Jill.
“Ready?” Zack asked when he was close enough. He was huddled inside his jacket, trying to keep the rain from dripping down his back.
My throat tightened and I nodded. My hands started shaking and I mentally yelled at them to stop. This was a normal thing to do. I’d been alone with Zack plenty of times. This was no different just because I was breaking a millions rules by getting into a car with a boy.
I trailed behind him, still afraid to be noticed by a parent who wanted to know why the MVP of the game was dating a nobody like me. I pulled my hood tighter around my face, grateful for the reason to hide inside my coat.
When we reached his tan Accord, my hands were sweating and I was looking around the parking lot for signs of trained snipers in the trees. The odds of Phil hiring someone to follow me seemed high as I pulled the car door open.
The smell of strawberry air freshener and cigarette smoke assaulted me instantly. I slid into the front seat and looked around the well-worn interior. The only item in the car was Zack’s book bag. The rest of his stuff had been tossed into his trunk.
The car shifted under his weight when he sat down. He closed the door and the dark filtered in as the dome light dimmed until it faded completely. I couldn’t look at Zack. I was feeling claustrophobic and slightly nauseous.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked, reaching to put the key in the ignition.
I nodded and stared out the passenger window.
I felt his warm hand on top of my freezing hands. His fingers laced through mine and I finally looked up at him. His smile was blinding even in the dim parking lot lights.
“It was a unique experience. I had no idea that Megan was such a huge fan. I knew she liked football, but she had some seriously harsh criticism for the referee,” I said, keeping the subject light. Staring into his eyes, I was starting to lose all sense of time and space. My mouth watered and all I could think about was closing the gap between us and kissing him.
“I liked having you in the stands watching me, though I wish I could have talked to you and spent more time with you. As hard as everything is to deal with, being apart from you is the hardest thing of all,” he sighed. He carefully pulled my hair behind my ear so that we could see each other better.
“It’s hard for me too,” I sighed.
He started to lean forward but suddenly sat back and turned on the car. He glanced around as if he was making sure that no one was watching us. He too must have remembered that there were still a lot of parents around.
The car turned on and it rattled a little before settling into a dull hum. “God, this car needs to be put out of its misery. I pray it turns on every time I try to start it. I’m happy to have it, but we need to come to an understanding. As long as it works, I won’t have to take it out back and shoot it,” he said mockingly as he rubbed his hand along the tan dashboard.
I laughed and patted the dashboard as well. “It needs a name.”
He nodded thoughtfully and rubbed his chin dramatically. “Boris,” he stated.
“Boris?” I asked, incredulously.
“No? Okay, how about Chester?” he chuckled.
I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “You are terrible at this. Since you seem to believe that this car is a boy, I’m going to call him Edgar,” I replied. I patted the console and smiled.
He burst out laughing and held his sides. “Well, if you insist, then I guess his name should be Edgar.” He ran his hands over the steering wheel and settled into the seat. “Nice to meet you, Edgar. It’s time to take my beautiful girlfriend home, so please don’t die in the middle of an intersection.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he spoke to Edgar. He sounded like they were old roommates who fought a lot.
The windshield wipers groaned as they smeared the rain, making everything blurry. I wondered how he could see anything.
We finally pulled out of the parking space and lined up in the small row of cars leaving the parking lot. I had never driven with someone younger than my aunt. I felt like a backseat driver and constantly looked over his shoulder to make sure there weren’t any cars coming. I wanted to tell him to be careful, but I folded my hands in my lap and hoped that he was a good driver.
Pulling out into the street, I was surprised by how smooth the turn was, despite the squealing noise coming from the steering wheel. “Does it always sound like that?”
“Yes. Now you understand why I spoke tha
t way to Edgar,” he grinned.
I settled into the seat and watched the lights slowly move across the windshield. We didn’t live far from school, so I only had a little time alone with him. My nerves had died down during our car naming ceremony and I felt better.
“I really liked your speech. I think you nailed it. I still don’t understand why you don’t like to play football. You seem at ease with the players and you are a natural on the field. I’m not just saying this, but you played better than most of the others guys. You had a flow or something, which surpassed everyone else. I’m not explaining it right, but it’s like you were dancing to a different song than everyone else,” I said, trying to convey my jumbled thoughts.
He glanced at me and the corner of his mouth curled up. “I like that analogy. I was dancing to a different song than everyone. Coach says that I see the plays in my head and can anticipate where everyone else will be, but I think you say it better,” he said, admiring my choice of words. “To tell you the truth, I do like to play, but I don’t like being judged solely on my performance on the field. I’m more than just football. I like writing short stories and I wanted to try out for the literary magazine, but football gets in the way. Even during the off-season, my dad makes me train in the local gym and work with a trainer to keep me limber. I don’t have time for other things. That’s why I hang out in the woods. I did the same thing at my old house. It’s the only time I get to be myself,” he explained as he turned onto the road leading to my street.
I played with my fingernail and listened to him talk about what he loved about playing football and what he hated. He liked memorizing the plays and coming up with interesting ways of moving the ball across the field. He hated being tackled, but then again, so did most guys. He also hated being yelled at by his father when they lost a game.
“Why wasn’t your dad at the game tonight?” I asked loudly, having to talk over the squeaking wipers. The mist and drizzle had turned into big fat raindrops.
“He had to work late. He was mad that he was going to miss the game, but he actually wished me luck. It really pisses me off that he only says nice things to me when I’m excelling on the field. It doesn’t matter if we win or lose; he takes it personally when I don’t play my hardest. There’s a lot of pressure on me to be the best. That’s probably the biggest downside,” he sighed.
I nodded and wondered what it would be like to have that kind of pressure on me. I was consistently on the Honor Roll and eligible for the National Honor Society, so I wasn’t really pressured to succeed. It was expected of me, but no one gave me a hard time about it. I pushed myself.
“I wish you were able to play because you loved the game, not because you were being forced to,” I said softly.
He grunted and focused on turning down my road. Sadly, our trip was nearly at an end. He pulled in front of my house and put the car in park. He turned in his seat and smiled at me. “Home safely,” he smiled.
I applauded his driving skills and tipped my head to him. He leaned over and kissed me quickly before sitting up and composing himself. He was gripping the wheel more tightly than before.
“Are you okay?” I asked, motioning to his ten and two position.
“Yeah. I know you have to go home, so I’m being good,” he said firmly, as if it were a mantra of sorts.
“You were nervous about bringing me home too, weren’t you? It’s strange being alone together in the car, even though we’ve been alone before, isn’t it?” I chuckled.
He nodded and let out a breath. “It’s definitely different in the car, yes. Tonight I feel like a couple, you know? You were there cheering for me and watching me give my speech. I didn’t feel alone for once. I feel like you’re finally my girlfriend. I know that sounds weird, but I think you understand,” he shrugged awkwardly.
“I do understand. It feels almost like a real date,” I said, trying to fill in the gaps of his explanation.
“Exactly. I know we didn’t talk about it, but I had a girl that I went out with two or three times. She was like Heather. I wasn’t the first guy that she had dated and I guess she was used to aggressive dates. She shoved her tongue down my throat during the basketball game she had begged me to go to with her. I went along with it, but it was weird since I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. That’s why I was upset about you and Mitch. I knew how it felt to kiss someone you weren’t sure if you liked. That and I wanted to punch Mitch for giving you a bad kissing experience,” he said in a low growl.
“You more than made up for my bad experience,” I laughed.
He smiled and winked at me. “I’m glad. The problem is, we’re sitting in my car, having a good time, and I want more than anything to kiss you and hold you. I know you don’t think highly of yourself, but I think you’re pretty and an amazing kisser. So, I’m holding the steering wheel to remind myself that you have to go inside,” he sighed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hoping that he wasn’t mad at me for my strange situation.
“I’m not upset, Alicia, I just wish things were different. You should get inside. It’s getting late,” he said, pulling back his sleeve to check the time.
I put my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze to thank him for his patience and understanding. I pulled on the ancient door handle, which took a little more effort than expected, and I pushed the door open with my foot. A set of car lights temporarily blinded me as I slid to the end of the seat and put my feet on the curb to stand. I froze when I saw the car pull into my driveway. Regrettably, it wasn’t my mom’s car. It was Phil’s other mode of transportation, his tacky blue truck.
Chapter 15
I ducked back into the car, slammed the door shut, and tried to disappear. There was no possible way that Phil could have confused the Accord with anyone else’s car that could possibly be giving me a ride home, nor could he have missed Zack sitting in the driver’s seat.
I counted to three before I saw Phil jump out of his car, slam the door, and run straight for our car.
“Drive!” I shouted. I had no real plan to speak of, but my survival instinct told me to run.
Zack didn’t hesitate. Thankfully, he had kept the car running to avoid having it die in front of my house. He threw the car into gear and we were speeding away a second before Phil’s hand reached for the door handle.
“Where are we going?” he asked in a panic.
“I don’t know, just drive. Maybe we can make it to my aunt’s house. Phil won’t have the guts to confront me there. Besides, she has my tape. I gave your tape to my uncle. Maybe I can finally tell her everything. If nothing else, it will buy me some time to think,” I said in a rush. I bit my thumbnail to keep my hands from locking up.
At the end of my street, I pointed to the right and tried to remember how to get to Sarah’s house. I knew the way, but my mind was tripping over itself and going in multiple directions so I couldn’t focus.
In the side view mirror, I saw head lights pull out onto the road without stopping. It was hard to see what color the car was, until it drove under a street light.
“Oh God, he’s following us!” I shouted. My entire body shook at the thought of Phil hunting me down and dragging me back home.
“What?” Zack yelled, glancing at the rearview mirror.
“Focus on the road, and take the next left,” I said as calmly as I could. The rain was making it hard to see anything in front of us.
Zack sat forward and pushed on the accelerator. I flew back into my seat and hit my head. I prayed that Edgar had enough power to outrun Phil’s truck, but I knew better.
The windshield wipers were barely keeping up with the water on the windshield, but Zack did his best to maintain our speed. My eyes were glued to the mirror, watching to see what Phil would do.
We turned on to Greenwood, a narrow two-lane road with fewer streetlights. I thought about instructing Zack to bail out onto one of the smaller side streets at the last minute, but the tires were barely clinging to the wet road as it w
as.
An oncoming car drove past us and left us alone in the dark. Before I knew it, I heard the truck speed up behind us. I turned to see Phil trying to get alongside of us on the driver’s side. His window was down, but I couldn’t see him clearly through Zack’s semi-foggy window. I was certain that he was yelling for us to pull over, but I refused to tell Zack to open his window. I didn’t want Phil to threaten Zack, or worse, lie to him about me.
“He’s crazy! What is he doing?” Zack yelled. He tried to stay in his lane as the road curved around a bend. Phil was forced to slow down and duck behind us.
“I told you, he’s not in his right mind. He either wants to run us off the road or get in front of us and force us to stop,” I yelled, trying to figure out how far he would go in his pursuit, though I already knew the answer. We would never make it to my aunt’s house if Phil was this determined to stop us.
I wanted to close my eyes and magically be in my bed. What made me think that I could have a life and keep a small piece of happiness in my pocket without Phil ruining everything? I thought about telling Zack to pull the car over so that I could punch Phil, or personally back the Accord over him. Instead, I almost started to cry because of my stupid mistake. I should have bolted from Zack’s car the second he stopped in front of my house and run to my bedroom. Instead, I had foolishly believed that I was free for two whole seconds.
When the lane straightened out again, Phil made another attempt to get in front of us.
“Turn!” I yelled a little too late. I was too upset to think clearly, but if we missed the turn, I would be completely lost.
The tires screamed in protest as the car made the turn and skidded around the bend. Zack pulled on the wheel and grunted, trying to keep the car straight.
“Sorry,” I whispered. I took a deep breath and focused on the street signs. There was another turn to make before we made it to the highway.
Phil missed the turn, but quickly ate up the distance before we reached the next intersection. The stretch of road we were on was a country lane surrounded on one side by a farm and a horse stable on the other. The roads were older in this section of town and the Accord bumped along the uneven pavement.
We Were Ghosts--The Secret Life of a Survivor Page 17