The Red Zone

by Knight, Amie

  Age 14

  Ella was sitting in my lap and holding on to my hair for dear life.

  “One two, buckle my shoe,” I sang and she laughed. I was trying my hardest to get her to say one, two. She’d done it a few days ago and I’d felt like queen of the world. Teaching Ella things was becoming my new addiction. The last couple of months of tutoring Luk had turned into me teaching her, too. It was pretty awesome. And I felt accomplished, like I was really making a difference. And not for Luk. For baby Ella.

  And while I taught Ella, Luk just stared at me with some kind of look in his eyes I couldn’t quite understand. But he’d been giving it to me a lot lately. Like now. He was looking at me like he was angry or very, very serious or maybe like he wanted to crawl inside of me. I couldn’t quite figure it out. My fourteen-year-old mind couldn’t quite wrap my brain around these looks he gave me when I held his baby sister like I did.

  “What are you looking at, Mister Quarterback?” I found the only way to deal with my awkwardness about his looks was to be a smartass, and he found the only way to deal with my smartassness was to be a smartass back.

  Except today.

  “My Red.”

  And that threw me for a loop. My stomach dipped. His Red. Now, why did he have to go and do that? Why did he have to make this whole crush thing so much harder on me than it needed to be by teasing me? I ignored him.

  “Three, four shut the door.”

  But Ella wasn’t having it. She pulled my frizzy hair into her fist and stuck it in her mouth.

  “Yuckies, Ellie Bellie.” I pulled my hair out of her mouth.

  She giggled.

  “I think that’s my cue to get home.” It seemed like I spent more days over at Luk’s house than not now. We really were friends. He was doing great in French and hardly needed my help at all anymore. We just hung out for the fun of it. Me just a little ole freshman best friends with the star quarterback of Summerville High. It seemed unimaginable and yet there I was sitting on his sofa playing with his baby sister, whom he loved more than life.

  But I was trying my darndest not to get attached. Luk was leaving for college soon. We didn’t talk about it. But we didn’t have to. I’d heard the rumors. Most of the rumors at school were about the football players and let’s face it, Luk was the star football player. He had a big future ahead of himself. I’d heard it said plenty of times that he would be playing pro ball one day. But most of the rumors nowadays centered around his immediate future. He had a full ride to a college in South Carolina. And he’d be leaving in just a few short weeks.

  He took Ella from my arms before I could hug her bye.

  “Wait,” I said, leaning over and giving her a squeeze while he held her in his arms. “Bye, baby girl.”

  Luk crowded in, making sure to wrap an arm around me, too, and I hoped he didn’t feel the goose bumps on my arm the moment his warm hand made contact with my cool shoulder.

  “Bye-bye,” she cooed back to me and I kissed her chubby cheek.

  We broke apart and I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. I couldn’t deal with Luk calling me his Red and breathing in his intoxicating high school boy scent. It was too much on a regular day when he didn’t try to make me swoon.

  “Mom, I’m walking Scarlett home!” Luk yelled.

  “Okay, go on. I’ll keep an eye on Ella. Bye, Scarlett!” she called back.

  Luk always walked me home. Over the last few months I realized he was a real gentleman through and through. I’d miss him when he left.

  The walk to my place was an unusually silent one. There wasn’t much that Luk couldn’t find to talk about. I may have been quiet and awkward, but he seemed to make up for it in spades. He never let me feel uncomfortable around him. He would carry the conversation if he had to and sometimes he did. And it wasn’t because I felt awkward or out of place with him. It was because I loved hearing him talk. The things he said. How he said them. Even at my young age I knew Lukas Callihan was something special. Every hour felt fleeting, every moment so precious.

  When we got home, it was already dark out. I stepped up onto my porch feeling differently—strung tight like a rubber band about to snap. He’d been too quiet, too reserved tonight. It made that moment right then feel momentous, important. When I looked back at Luk standing down on the sidewalk in front of my porch it felt like there was an electricity in the air I’d never experienced before. My skin felt tight. My body felt restless and the little hairs on every surface of my skin stood up.

  A lightning bug flew past his head and I smiled uncomfortably. Anything to make this feeling stop. Or to keep it forever. I couldn’t decide which was worse. Never having this feeling again or feeling it every day for the rest of my life. It was too much, this buzzing under my skin as I looked down at him, this desperate pressure on my chest to say something big.

  Running a hand through his gorgeous curls, he choked out desperately, “Scarlett.” His face looked pained and I panicked.

  I took one step down the porch, my foot hitting the wood a thud that seemed ominous. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked past me, staring at my front door in thought, his eyes too serious. He drew that plump bottom lip I dreamed about at night into his mouth in thought before releasing it.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back to the sky and let out a deep sigh. “Fuck,” he said to that sky like it had done something horrible to him.

  Worried, I came down the last three steps quickly and stood in front of him, my heart beating out of my chest. He was wearing a blue and white plaid flannel over a bright white T-shirt and I pulled at the lapels of that shirt, begging him to look at me.

  “What’s going on, Mister Quarterback?” I didn’t normally touch him like this, so unabashedly. But he didn’t normally look this upset either.

  Taking a long breath in, his head lowered slowly until his emotional eyes crashed into mine.

  I clung to those eyes while my hands clung to his shirt as he raised his hand to my face and placed his palm lovingly to my cheek.

  Oh, God. What was happening? My eyes slipped closed as he stepped in and the scent that was purely Lukas washed over me. His palm was warm against my face and I leaned into it, thinking maybe he’d never touch me like this, beyond thankful for this singular moment.

  A cool forehead pressed against mine and our breaths mingled. But I kept my eyes closed, thinking I was probably dreaming because this couldn’t be real. Lukas only liked Scarlett Knox on a platonic level, never as more. He’d never hinted. Never touched me. And definitely never cradled my face tenderly or laid his forehead to mine.

  Except he was. Right now. God, how I hoped I would never wake up in that moment. My hands fisted the front of his shirt. I never wanted to let go. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

  “I wanna call dibs. So bad,” he whispered almost against my lips and my knees trembled.

  He wanted to call dibs, but there were no Skittles to be seen. No candy, no food, no remote control that he’d taken from me too many times to count over the last few months. My voice quivered. “On what?”

  But I knew. I knew what he was saying and it was too good to be true. And too late. Way. Too. Late.

  “You.” His voice sounded as tortured as my heart felt. His thumb rubbed my chin. His eyes held me captive. “I wanna call dibs on you, Red.”

  His other hand came up until it cradled the other side of my face and all of a sudden I was enveloped in him. Just him and the most romantic moment of my life. His hands on my cheeks, his body close to mine, my hands clinging to him for dear life. Because this was it. It was the moment every girl who’d ever liked a boy ever wished for.

  His nose brushed the side of mine, the stubble on his face scratching me, making me shiver even though I was pretty sure I was the hottest I’d ever been.

  He didn’t ask to take my first kiss. I didn’t expect he would and I would’ve said a thousand yeses anyway. So, when he leaned in and pressed his warm lips to
mine, I exhaled slowly. And he breathed in, sucking that very oxygen into his lungs like it was everything to him.

  He didn’t take it further. He just held my face like I was something special and kissed my lips chastely, his soft lips pressed to the heat of mine. It was how a girl’s first kiss should be. Romantic. Devastating. Sweet.

  He pulled back and my lips followed his, but he used his thumb to stop them, pressing right there at the pillow of my bottom lip.

  I opened my eyes and sad, brown ones were waiting on me.

  “I’m leaving in a few weeks, Scarlett. As soon as school’s over. I have football camp in South Carolina at the beginning of summer.”

  I nodded, my heart breaking even though I already knew. “I know.”

  His thumb roamed my lips while his words destroyed me. “I’m leaving and you still have three years of school left.” He gave me a sad smile and I wanted to use my fingers to wipe it away, but instead I just enjoyed the feel of his thumb on mine. “But I couldn’t leave without at least doing that once. I had to. Forgive me?” His voice was so quiet it could have been a whisper, but I heard it loud and clear. He was leaving. I was staying. This was over. Whatever this was now. Because in the last ten seconds it had seemed to change drastically and I was way too young and immature to understand more than that I wanted to kiss him again. More. Harder. I wanted his hands on my skin and not over my clothes. I wanted more than a simple kiss. I wanted to taste the inside of his mouth. I wondered what his tongue would feel like against mine like I’d seen in too many movies.

  I stupidly wanted to beg him to stay. To tell him I could visit him. That I’d be here when he came home to see his family, that I’d wait, but the resolve on his face kept me in check.

  I stepped back and his hands fell. I had to preserve what was left of the rest of my young heart. It may have been in tatters, but it was still there, beating wildly, firmly in the clutches of my very first ever crush.

  “It’s okay,” I said, lying. I could pretend. I was good at that. I’d been pretending the last few months, so I’d had lots of practice. I was getting dang good at it.

  I kept backing up until I backed right back up the porch steps I’d just come down moments before. Before everything had changed in the span of seconds. Before he’d kissed me. Before he’d ruined everything and made my dreams come true all at once. Part of me wished I could press rewind. Part of me wished I’d never come down those steps, that he’d never devastated my mouth with his sweet kiss. The other part of me never wanted to forget it. The other part of me wished I could press pause instead.

  “Red,” he ground out, his hands back in his hair, pulling at his pretty curls, his face tortured. “I’m sorry, I—”

  I held my hand up. “No, it’s okay, Luk. I get it.” I nodded, trying to convince myself along with him. “I really do.” I threw him a paltry smile. It was freaking pathetic and I instantly regretted it. “I should go.”

  I took one last look at his gorgeous face, trying to memorize it because I knew this was it and I kept backing up until I felt the door at my back. I pushed my hand behind me until I found the doorknob and turned it and slipped inside, closing it behind me swiftly. The living room was dark and I was so, so thankful. I was pretty sure my mother and my brother were at some sporting event he was doing, so at least no one would witness how pathetic I was. I slid down the door until I landed on my behind. With my knees to my chest, I cradled my head in my hands and finally let the tears fall.

  Even through my sobs and hiccups I could hear what sounded like a kick to my front porch and the word, “Fuck,” loudly from Lukas’s mouth.

  I held my cries in as best as I could until I heard the crunch of the driveway pavement beneath his sneakers walking away.

  The first few days after it had happened, I dreamed of it. I held the memory of his hands on my cheeks and his lips warming mine close to my heart, cherishing them, knowing I’d never have them again. Until I didn’t anymore. Until those memories hurt me more than they comforted me. Until I felt like they broke me somehow. Until I realized the kiss had somehow ruined the little time I’d had left with Luk. Why had he kissed me? Had he somehow figured out how much I adored him and felt sorry for me? Why hadn’t he just left and let me keep my heart intact?

  I avoided him the last few weeks of the school year. I didn’t go by his home and pay my favorite baby girl any visits. I didn’t look at him as I passed him in the hallway. I avoided the library where I knew he’d study. He wanted a clean break and that was what I gave him. He didn’t avoid me, but he didn’t come for me either. He didn’t say goodbye before he left for school and he damn sure didn’t contact me in the years after.

  It was silly, almost immature how I still thought of him ten years later as the one who’d gotten away. As the one who’d broken my teenage heart and stolen my first kiss.

  I was late for school again. I’d probably be more worried about it if it wasn’t a regular occurrence and if my boss didn’t give a rat’s ass. He knew I was a good teacher and believe it or not, those weren’t too easy to come by. Especially in the special education variety. Besides, it wasn’t like I intended to be late. I was a Southern girl. We were habitually late creatures. It was just in our DNA. There was no getting around it.

  Imagine my surprise when I saw the black Lexus behind me again. Traffic was light, so I didn’t get the chance to check my teeth in the mirror or anything just to piss him off. I could see the silhouette of his ridiculously expensive glasses and I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the school parking lot.

  What I was surprised to see was that he was pulling in right behind me. Holy shit. Was he following me in so he could tell me what a crazy person I was for yelling at him in traffic? Better yet, was he following me because he was a parent and I had yelled at him?

  As I pulled past the line of parents and headed back to the teachers’ lot, I let out a sigh of relief. He’d turned into the carpool line. He may have been a parent at the school, but there were a lot of kids here.

  I did check myself in the mirror in the lot and add a little red lipstick to my lips. I got out of the car feeling like a million bucks. I may have been a little late, but I looked good today. I had on a red pencil skirt and white silk blouse that I had tucked in. I wore my black pumps with the red bottoms sans stockings. My hair was down and tamed around my face in soft curls and I’d even thrown on my pearl earrings and necklace. It was a rare day that this teacher got her act together in the morning, but today had been a good day thus far. Ollie had woken me up when he’d left early in the morning for football practice before school, but I was thankful for it when I looked down at my freshly pressed outfit.

  But maybe I was having a good day because I’d been enjoying a string of texts between me and a certain quarterback. Messing with Lukas and teasing was becoming something of an obsession and I’d become ridiculously attached to my phone over the last few days.

  I grabbed my laptop bag with my school supplies and headed in, my heels clacking down the hallway, my hips swaying like I knew I was having a good day. Because I was, even if I was doing it a little later than I should be.

  Even Vice Principal Vega seemed to notice. “Hey there, Scarlett. You’re looking nice today.”

  Oh, I knew what he meant by nice because his eyes were feasting on the length of my legs as he said it. But there was no way I was going there. He was my superior. It didn’t matter that Victor Vega had a head full of beautiful, thick, black hair and a killer smile. He was a tall glass of Spanish water that I wouldn’t mind sipping at all. If he wasn’t my boss. Besides, I knew the likes of him would destroy me. I knew his type. His type had damn near ruined me in high school. I’d have to stay far, far away from what some of the older girls called “The Puerto Rican Papi.”

  “Thanks, Principal Vega.” I didn’t look back as I passed him by, but secretly I enjoyed his attention. This girl didn’t get hit on by too many guys. Especially ones who looked as good as him.

 
I entered my classroom with my chest puffed out. It was just one of those days. One of those awesome days.

  A few students were milling about already and I greeted them as I made my way to my desk at the back of the room. I even stopped and did a little twirl in front of Joshua’s desk. See, no poop today, buddy!

  Only to my surprise and ultimately my demise, I spotted a very big man behind my desk and sitting in my chair mid-twirl. And for once my black pumps didn’t make me look great because I was so stunned at the sight before me I went down like a large sack of potatoes, rolled ankle and all.

  I lay there for approximately five seconds, looking up at the ceiling and praying for something to happen. Anything really so I didn’t have to face the man behind my desk. I was unprepared. I had just fallen. I’d done a twirl, for Christ’s sake. Kill. Me. Now.

  I slammed my eyes closed and prayed a little and then I used my right hand to pinch my right side just to make sure this wasn’t a bad dream.

  “You okay, Ms. Lettie?” a little boy named Gavin asked from my left side.

  I kept my eyes closed. “Yes, buddy. I’m fine. Because this is a dream. A very bad dream.”

  Because the man I thought I saw mid-twirl before I went down could not be here. This whole thing could not be happening.

  “I don’t think so,” came his little voice again, in a mild stutter with a bit of a lisp. It was adorable and all, but God, I just wanted to sink into the ugly, dirty carpet around my head.

  A shadow fell over me that I could see even behind my eyelids. And I knew it was too big to be one of the kids. Wake up. Wake up right now, I pleaded with myself.

  “Need some help there?” That voice. Oh, dear Lord, that voice. I knew it. I remembered it like it was yesterday. It may have held the same inflection and bit of teasing. It may have still been laced with a thick Southern accent I’d recognize anywhere, but it was deeper, more gravelly and so much sexier. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.