LOL. No. Just home. Mom is freaked out about my leg.
Y? Is it ok?
Same as yesterday, but the Dr. scared her.
Speaking of, how’s Luc’s knee?
I blink at the words on the screen and reread them before responding.
What happened 2 him?
U don’t know?
No.
Zane beat him up after school, yesterday. I think Luc was really hurt. Jake took him home.
U saw it?
Yeah, & half the school 2. Zane is such a jerk.
Yeah. Hey, he didn’t happen 2 threaten Luc, say he was going 2 do it again, or anything like that, did he?
Yes. Said he was going 2 kill him 2day. I don’t blame Luc for not coming 2 school.
I draw in a deep breath and look from the screen of my phone toward Luc’s bedroom, where he’s been listening to loud music for the last while.
“Damn,” I whisper.
Luc is magically sick again when Mom comes home. She takes him up a bowl of soup and he doesn’t come down for dinner with the family.
Dad talks non-stop football at the table, Mom nods like she has a clue, and I wish I had a gun. I finally get to go to my room where I collapse to my bed and don’t move for the rest of the night.
I don’t go to school again on Friday. Mom leaves early and comes home with more papers and text books than the inside of my locker has ever known. She forms two piles out of them on the kitchen table.
“You can start your homework now,” she says. “And Luc can do his as soon as he wakes up and is feeling better.”
“He’s home again, too?”
“Yes.”
“Sick as yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“No improvement?”
“No.”
“Wonder if he’s got chicken pocks.”
“He’s been immunized for that,” Mom says proving she doesn’t get it. She pats the top text book. “Get going, Mister.”
So I sit there flipping through pages of what seems like foreign writing, for what seems like months, and when Mom passes the kitchen doorway with her ear buds in, and wearing her workout clothing, then goes down stairs, I pick up my cell phone.
Come down here.
Can’t. Sick. Luc texts me back.
Liar. I know Y UR home. Come down here. I want to talk 2 U.
Phone companies need 2 create an icon of the birdie finger. Would come in handy at times like this.
I roll my eyes and wish I could make the stairs – I’d go pound on him. Not really, but I do want to talk to him.
I try calling, but he won’t answer.
Pick up the phone. I text again.
No.
There’s a full length mirror by the door in UR room. Stand in front of it.
Leave me alone.
Look at U. UR not a girly boy. U can kick his ass!
He doesn’t respond. I wait a few minutes for my screen to light up but it doesn’t happen.
U can kick Zane’s ass, Luc, I type in and hit send.
Nothing returns.
U’ve got 2 stand up 4 urself, or he’ll just keep doing it. It’ll never end.
He’s a senior. It will end.
I shake my head at his words. So UR just going 2 fake sick 4 the rest of the yr?
No response.
Stand up to him. Hiding is only proving to him & everyone else that UR scared. He might not be there next yr, but a reputation as a coward will keep following U.
Shut up, Ry.
No. Take a swing at the mother F–er! U should have done it yrs ago.
I should’ve taken a swing at U!
U should have kicked my ass.
That’s what I just said.
& I agree. U’ve been pushed around long enough. Fight.
Stop texting me.
Just do it. Tell Mom U feel better & want to go to school. Then walk right up to him & get it over with. Prove 2 him UR not afraid.
Nothing comes back.
Luc?
No return text. I call him again. He doesn’t pick up, but I know his phone is still on, because I’m not sent straight to voice mail. So I shoot him another text. I promise UR big enough to get the job done. & I promise he’ll think twice B4 he ever messes with U again.
This coming from a guy who’s 2 afraid 2 tell his own dad he likes art and hates football. How about I grow a pair when U do.
Wow, he got me there. I stare at the screen on my phone and try to decide if I want to kill him, or run away crying.
I don’t respond, and he sends me another message. Delete this.
Since it poses a risk to me as well, I select delete all and annihilate the entire conversation.
TWENTY-SIX
Luc really does look ill, come Monday morning. I set my own alarm Sunday night and I’m showered and dressed when I enter the kitchen where he and Mom are. He’s sitting at the table nervous, rattled, and a little pale.
Mom blinks in confusion at me. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asks.
“School.”
“No, Ryan, you’re not . . .”
“Get real, Mom,” I cut her off. “I can’t stay home the rest of my life and you know it. Dad’s right – I’ve got shit to do.”
She’s blinking again, this time at my rudeness, but I ignore her and snatch Luc’s phone up off the table.
“Give it back. What are you doing?” he grabs for it, but doesn’t get out of his seat. He turns to face Mom. “Please,” he says and she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, you’re not staying home again, Luc. And that’s final.”
I scroll through his contacts and hit Jake’s number.
“Give me a lift to school,” I tell him when he picks up.
“Ryan?”
“Yeah.”
“Well . . . okay. Is Luc going?”
“Yep.”
“Right on. Be there in about twenty.”
“Thanks.”
I sit in the back seat with Connor and the ride has a morbid feel. It’s silent, and when we pull to a stop in the school parking lot, Lucas just stares straight ahead at the building. Connor shifts nervously, and Jake throws the car in park and glances over at Luc. No one’s saying anything because they don’t think I understand. But I do.
“I’ve got enough books to stock a library, and you guys are helping me take them to my locker,” I say.
“I’ve got my own to worry about,” Luc tells me and I detect a tremble in his voice.
“You’ve got mine to worry about. I’m not carrying them, so you are. These guys can take yours.”
They all think I’m being an ass – my old self. But I’m not.
I load the three of them up with books and demand they go to my locker first, even though it would be more convenient to go to Luc’s first.
They walk in a group, closest to the row of lockers, and I walk to the right of them, using my bubble to force people out around us.
I can hear the whispers that include Luc’s name. I can see the way they all look at him. And I can feel the rumors that have been circulating the school since Zane jumped him on Wednesday.
We stop at my locker. I hit Connor in the arm, give him my combo and he hands the books off to Jake, then twists at the dial. He’s just about got it open when I spot Zane moving across the intersection that leads to the hall that houses Luc’s locker. I glance at Luc and he finally gets it. The hardness in his eyes softens and he looks to Jake who smiles.
“Now you’re going to deliver my papers to my teachers,” I tell them and no one complains.
I show them where the rooms are, and we pass Scott in one hall and Zane in the next.
He smiles evilly at Lucas, then glances at me. I give him a hard expression, and with a laugh, he keeps moving.
I realize that, as physical protection, I’m worthless to Luc. And I’m not looking to shelter him, either. Mom can come to school and he can hide behind her skirt for that. I know he’s got to man up
and take a stand at some point, but I just think he needs to have five minutes worth of time to get his gloves on before the bell sounds to start another round.
I watch the time on my cell phone. I calculate the minutes left before school begins and make sure we just so happen to be close to Luc’s first hour class when it does. The three of them say a quick, see ya later, to one another and split up. This breaks the safety in numbers thing I was applying and Luc feels it. He’s trying not to let it show, but I can see it.
“Go to class, Luc,” I say, punching him lightly in the chest. His eyes rise to meet mine for a brief moment and in them I can see both his thanks and his shame. His gimp brother has to walk him to class and keep him safe. How humiliating.
I don’t say anything, but I secretly hope that feeling keeps growing. I hope he hates me babysitting him enough to do something about it.
Part of me honestly thought Luc would emerge from school and take the field as the Incredible Hulk. Bulked up, green, clothing torn, and ready to put Zane in his place. But he doesn’t. In fact he doesn’t show up for football practice at all.
I sit on the bench next to Paige, who I’ve talked into coming again, and I eagerly await Luc’s arrival. I wait and wait.
I glance back at Jake and Connor who are at the top of the bleachers and Jake shrugs. Hinting that he, too, is wondering.
Zane is prancing around like he owns the place, but he doesn’t appear to have any blood on his talons, so I’m doubting he picked the kid off and left his body lying in the gutter.
I shake my head in annoyance for Luc and motion for Jake to come down. He does, with Connor in tow.
“Call him. I want to talk to him and he won’t answer if he sees it’s me,” I say.
Jake isn’t happy about tricking Luc, so I demand his phone and he finally hands it over. I call Luc and when he answers I get up off of the bench and limp my way under the bleachers for some privacy.
“Where are you, Man?”
“None of your business.”
“What the hell?”
“Ryan, when are you going to leave me alone?” The detectable glitch in his voice destroys all the anger and impatient feelings I was having for him and makes me sigh.
“I’m sorry. Don’t hang up, please. Talk to me for a few minutes, will you? Pretend you trust me and lay it all out there. Why aren’t you at practice?”
He doesn’t speak and I have to pull the phone away from my ear and look at it to see if the call has been dropped. He’s still there.
“Luc, you do like ball, don’t you? I’m not being Dad, here, am I?”
“I like it.” His voice is quiet.
“You do want to play on the team, right?”
I can almost hear him shrug.
“Do you?”
“I can play next year. I’m sure I can make the team.”
“Next year. So this is totally about Zane.”
“What’s the point of being on the team, Ry? It’s not like I’m going to get to play, anyway.”
“Coach isn’t going to bench you, Luc. You’re too good.”
“Zane will make sure I’m benched.”
“Zane thinks he’s hot shit with his Captain title, but he’s nothing. You’ll play, I promise.”
“Not if I’m benched because of injury.”
“Oh.” Suddenly it becomes clear why Zane wants to hurt him so badly. “Is this why you haven’t told Dad about being on the team – you don’t think you’ll get to play?”
There’s a long silence then Luc clears the emotion I can’t see, but can strongly feel, from his throat. “I can still play. I’ll just play with my friends in the park. At least I know they aren’t going to take me out at the knee.”
“He’s jealous of your skills, Luc. Zane is jealous because you’re so much better than him. You’re better than him – you get that?”
“I gotta go,” he half chokes.
“You’re better!” I say it again and then hurry to squeeze in one more thing before he hangs up on me. “And you’re better than him at much more than football.”
“Bye.”
“Luc.”
The phone is quiet.
“Luc?”
He’s gone. The screen of Jake’s phone proves it. I stare at it for a moment longer before returning to the three people who are now standing in a group waiting for me.
“He’s not coming,” I hand the phone back to Jake. “And I for one am not going to sit here in support of this bullshit, anymore. If my brother isn’t on the team, and I’m not on the team, then there’s no reason in hell for me to be here. Give me a ride home, Jake.”
He agrees and I invite Paige to come with me. She does. We hang out in my bedroom playing video games and laughing until her mom gets off work and comes to pick her up. And this time, after Dad discovers she’s been there, gives me a stern look and asks if I’ve behaved myself, I grin and raise a promiscuous eyebrow. He doesn’t like that and I get a twenty minute lecture in front of the whole family again, but I don’t care anymore.
_____
Tuesday. Mom demands I stay home from school. I tell her no, and Dad goes to bat for me. He even drives me in. All the way there he tells me how proud he is of me for going through all that I have and still having the fighting spirit. He tells me I’m a real inspiration, then asks how football is going. Like I have the courage to tell him my true feelings about it now, after all he’s just said.
I lean my head back against the leather head rest of his posh car, close my eyes and lie.
“Careful with the leg,” he says once we arrive at the school and I’ve pushed open the door to exit. “Your Mom will have my head should you get hurt again.”
“You’re scared of Mom?”
“We’re all afraid of something, aren’t we?” he asks with a chuckle.
I study him for a long moment, then nod. “I guess so. I’ll be careful.”
“Love ya, Son.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
I don’t know what’s going on with Zane and Scott, but they must be at odds, because Scott is hanging out with Hunter by the trophy case, and Zane is on the prowl alone.
I pass him in the freshman hall. He calls me a loser, then tells me he’s going to kill Lucas and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I tell him to be careful, smile like I know something he doesn’t, then leave him with the stupid look he has on his face.
I text Luc and tell him to steer clear of the freshman hall.
At lunch I sit with Paige and DeAnn on the table next to Luc, Jake and Connor. Luc seems happy and it makes me feel good. Paige watches me watch him and then she smiles and kisses me on the mouth.
After art I meet Mom outside the office for my medication and I ask her what she’s afraid of.
“What am I afraid of? Why do you ask that?”
I swallow the pill and hand her back the water bottle. “We’re all afraid of something, aren’t we?”
She smiles. “Not me.”
I chuckle, knowing she’s lying, and she pushes her fingers through my hair. “I’m very glad for the changes in you, Ryan.”
“Thanks Mom. You’re not going to kiss me now, are you?”
“And embarrass you here at school, in front of all your peers? Of course I am.” She plants one right on the center of my forehead and after I playfully gripe about it, I have to go to the restroom and scrub off her lipstick.
DeAnn drops Paige and me off at her house after school and I’m thrilled to see that the motorcycle ramp is still propped up against the front steps. It makes me feel like I’m welcome there anytime.
I wait behind Paige for her to unlock the front door and then we enter her house.
“It feels like forever since I’ve been here,” I say looking around.
“That’s because it has been,” she giggles. “I’m going to run my stuff up to my room. Make yourself at home.”
“Grab your fingernail polish.”
She laughs. “You letting me paint
you again?”
“No. I’m going to paint you.”
“Really?”
“If it means I get to touch you.”
Her smile changes from fun to flattered, and she steps in closer to me. “You don’t have to paint my nails to touch me, Ry.”
I gaze down into her incredible eyes, that are all green right now, and I slide my hand around to the back of her head and pull her against my mouth. She rises up onto her toes, wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back.
My heart is pounding and I’m trembling slightly when she pulls away. “How about I grab a blanket instead of the polish and we go out to the play house?” she suggests.
“Yeah. Let’s.”
So we do.
She spreads out the blanket and we lay down together. We just talk and laugh at first, but then I kiss her again and she responds by drawing her body closer to mine. We make out, and for about ten minutes it’s strictly kissing, but then her hand slides gently under my shirt and she begins the exploration of my upper body. I let her touch me where ever and however she wants, and I touch the flesh of her upper half too, but I’m careful to keep it innocent until invited. Which, with a nervous breath, she does. She puts her hand on top of mine and guides it to her breast.
“You sure?” I whisper.
Her breathing is choppy, but she smiles, nods, and then closes her eyes. I watch her face as I touch her, so that I can stop if I see any signs of discomfort or second guessing, but she doesn’t give any, and within a short while she completely relaxes into it. So I close my eyes, too, and kiss her with more passion.
It gets hot. She and I, I mean. We kiss and touch and undress to the point that I feel like I’m going to die without her.
“Paige,” I pant from on top of her.
“Hum?” her voice vibrates against my lips.
“Can I make love to you?”
There’s hesitation. A glitch, on her part, in our rhythmic rocking.
“I . . .” It’s all she says and I’m not stupid.
“I’m sorry.” I climb off of her feeling like I’m going to explode into a billion tiny fragments at any moment. She watches me collapse to my back beside her, before she sits up and pulls on her top. She fastens her jeans then looks over at me again.
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