by L. A. Fiore
The soccer team had an exhibition game—sort of a promotion for the sport to encourage new members, and his coach, Mr. Ellis, was going to allow Bastian to play. This meant practice, lots of practice with Bastian wearing only sweatpants and cleats. Let me just say it now, I loved soccer.
It was during one night at practice that I realized I still hadn't gotten Bastian back for his Victory stunt. What, I wondered, would be good enough a stunt to top the pep rally from hell? Thinking about the pep rally forced thoughts of Brad front and center. My anger hadn’t faded, but I couldn't deny there was a touch of sadness there too, at the loss of the friend I had believed him to be.
I watched Bastian as he ran down the field, saw the setup before he nailed it into the goal. I stared at his back, to the part of his tattoo that trailed down his spine and felt overly warm, again. Yet while I watched him laughing with his teammates, a diabolical idea came to me.
The Spring fair was coming. The idea behind the fair was really quite nice, a celebration of renewal and rebirth, and how nothing was constant and we could always redefine ourselves, just like the Earth did every Spring.
The fair was probably the most popular school function, but even the fair had a black mark and that was the master of ceremonies, or what we thought of as the mascot of the fair. It was a role so utterly embarrassing it caused grown men to shiver and children to run in fear. Thanks, Mrs. Farlay.
Why the mascot wasn't just abandoned due to the serious aversion everyone had to it was just another stigma which only added to the mascot's amusingly dark allure. Coach Farlay's wife’s role in the planning probably ensured it was kept in the school social calendar.
Needless to say no one ever volunteered to play the mascot. So determined was the student body year after year to avoid becoming the dreaded mascot that a lottery was created. Every name in the school, including those of the teachers (to promote unity) was placed in a large circular basket like a big bingo ball draw and one name was randomly selected.
I watched Bastian as an evil little smile spread over my face. Oh yes, payback was a bitch.
***
“Are you insane? You're talking about breaking and entering, sabotage and fraud. It can't be done, Lark, forget it.”
I just stared at Shawn, our class president, as he tried in vain to persuade me from my course of action, but he was going to learn that he was wasting his time. I was happy to see that Poppy and Shawn were growing more comfortable with being friends and that the pain of their breakup was becoming a distant memory. Bastian was off at a soccer meeting, which gave me a chance to meet with my accomplices.
“I say let's do it. It's diabolical, Lark,” Sophia said.
Poppy grinned like a fool. “Not to mention if Bastian's the m-word, it won’t fall on any of us.”
Everyone, including Shawn, nodded in agreement and I knew that I had them. I turned my attention to Shawn.
“As the class president, you have access to the room. Anyone who might catch you will either help or turn a blind eye because no one wants to get picked. All you have to do is remove the ballots and replace them with the ones I'll give you.”
“What if someone looks at the ballots?” Shawn asked.
I held his stare. “In the three years we've witnessed the lottery, has anyone ever?”
“No.”
“Trust me, it'll work.”
“He isn't going to like it.” Sophia said.
“True, but he only has to play the m-word for the opening ceremony. Fifteen minutes isn't going to kill him.” I replied.
A noticeable shiver went through Shawn. “Fifteen minutes is too freaking long.” said Shawn.
“You're stepping it up, Lark. Are you prepared for his retaliation?” Poppy asked.
I grinned, like the Grinch, and drawled, “Bring it on.”
***
While operation “Payback” was underway, Ms. Whitney approached me during seventh period.
“Lark, you've been selected again this year to have a piece of your art displayed in the state-wide art show in a few weeks. Congratulations.”
“Cool.”
“It's the weekend of March 11th and 12th and this year it will be held at the New York Public Library on 5th Avenue. I need you to think about what piece you want to display.” I knew without even thinking about it what piece I wanted in the show.
Ms. Whitney knew me so well. “I'm guessing by that look you know what piece that will be.”
“Yes.”
“If you can bring it in, I'll have it shipped to the committee.”
“Okay.”
“Are you looking forward to your summer in Maine?” She asked.
“I am. I've been studying Logan Dupree's work and he really is amazing.”
“He is, isn’t he? His style and yours are very similar—when I heard about the scholarship, I just knew I had to apply for you. Under his tutelage, you'll learn so much.”
“Thank you for seeing something in me and pushing me to be better. I wouldn't be the artist I am without you,” I said with sincerity.
A softness entered her expression. “Thank you.”
***
“You ready, Bastian?” Caden had been working quietly as I entered the garage with Bastian, but came to join us by their work lockers.
I looked from Caden to Bastian. “Ready for what?”
Bastian grinned. “Your belated Christmas present.”
“A present? It's here?” My question was answered with silence. I’d thought he’d forgotten about it.
Bastian led me to the back door of the garage, and as we passed the Impala bay, I was sad to see the car was gone. It was stupid, I know, but I’d wanted that car. I wanted it, not just because it was a hell of a ride, but because a part of Bastian was in that car. And on that thought, we stepped out the back door and there sitting only a few feet away, with a big red bow on it, was the Impala.
I was almost speechless—almost. “That's my present?”
“All the nights you sat with me while I worked on this car, I just couldn't let it go, so I made a deal with Cal and bought it. It's a great car, but it's a safe car, which makes it perfect for you.”
And now I was speechless. Not only was it the greatest gift I'd ever been given but hearing that Bastian felt about the car as I did, made the gift even more special. And as he had been doing since he entered my life, he added another memory to my happy place.
“Lark?”
Shifting my focus, I stared up into those marvelous eyes. “I don't have words. It's too much and yet I love it.”
“It's not too much, not even close.” There was no denying his sincerity.
For a moment we just stared, communicating without words, and then he brushed his thumb across my cheek, a simple but profoundly affectionate gesture. “Want to take her for a spin?” He held up the keys, a grin pulling at the one side of his mouth.
“Oh yeah.”
***
That night the family took a good thirty minutes to ogle my car and later, when we sat around the living room, I still felt like I was floating, because how wonderful a gift, made even more so because it was from Bastian.
Conversation eventually made its way to the fair which was this weekend. I didn't miss Mr. Wright’s mock shiver, since I knew he was thinking of the hated mascot. But fortunately he remained silent about it. I felt a pang of guilt setting Bastian up as I was, but not enough guilt to back out of it because the gauntlet had been tossed.
After dinner Bastian and I sat out back. The sky was so clear, the perfect backdrop for the stars which twinkled down at us. “I can't believe you bought me a car. It's incredible. You did an amazing job restoring her.”
He was thoughtful for a minute, but I noticed the pride that flashed over his face. “You needed a car and I wanted your first car to be from me. In fact, I want as many of your firsts as I can have so...” he pulled me across his lap, “Get used to me spoiling you.”
What a thing to say. My heart
rolled in my chest. Feeling playful, I gave him a saucy smile. “I can totally get behind that.”
“Brat,” he whispered before his lips captured mine.
***
Poppy, Sophia and I were having our girl time at the local coffee house. With Caden staying at the Wrights, the tension between him and Poppy had grown undeniable. Sophia and I had discussed it, since she had picked up on it too, whenever she came to the house. I was going to ask Poppy about it when I noticed the twins and my Aunt Kim climbing from their car at the curb. As soon as Deena and Carol saw me, they hurried over for hugs.
“How are you guys?” I asked after we detangled.
“Good. We were just spring clothes shopping. Forever 21 has some really adorable skirts.”
Having never shopped there, I'd have to take Deena's word for it. Before we could catch up any more, Aunt Kim stepped up next to them.
“Girls, there's a line. Why don't you get into it, so we aren't late getting home to start dinner for Daddy.”
“Okay. Bye, Lark. Stop by the house and I'll show you my new clothes.” Carol called and Deena waved as well before they disappeared into the cafe. I was aware of Aunt Kim's focus even before I turned back to her. Poppy and Sophia, as usual, refused to acknowledge my aunt.
“Larkspur.” Suspicion began to unfurl at my aunt’s addressing me directly. Something she practically never did, even with me in her own house. “I heard about Brad. Are you really going to let that boy stand trial?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, seems like an awfully big price for him to pay for a dalliance gone wrong.”
“Dalliance? He tried to rape me.”
“Did he though? Looking the way you do, your boyfriend being out of town and you not being a virgin, are you sure you weren't giving off vibes?”
Before I could process the flood of emotions stirred by her vile accusation, Poppy jumped up from her spot at the table and had Sophia not grabbed her, I think she would have slugged my aunt.
“You bitch,” screeched Poppy.
“No call for that kind of language, young lady. I'm merely holding the mirror to Larkspur's face. Whether she chooses to look is entirely up to her. Excuse me.”
She disappeared into the cafe and as much as I would have liked to have hurled a scathing remark at her retreating form, I wasn't capable of forming one. Had I not had people in my life repeatedly telling me that I wasn't at fault, her words would have done some serious damage.
“What a fucking bitch,” Poppy snarled again.
“You can say that again.” Sophia, I realized, was also steaming mad. The sight of their outrage brought a smile to my lips. “I love you, guys.”
Poppy's outrage turned to confusion at my words, “Aren't you pissed?”
“Sure, but not surprised.”
“I'm glad you're out from under her roof,” Sophia said.
“Me too. Let's finish our coffee and I'll treat for donuts.”
“Deal.” Poppy added.
Settling at our table, I caught Poppy’s eye. “Thanks for defending me to her.”
Her smile came in a flash. “That's what families do.”
***
The next day at school was the dreaded lottery. When the lottery cage was wheeled out, you could have heard a pin drop in the gym. Bastian, who was watching the events unfold with a blank look on his face, leaned into me and asked, “What's up with everyone?”
One glance around the stands showed there to be not one smiling face, but I decided to play stupid. “What do you mean?”
The incredulous expression he gave me in response almost had me laughing out loud, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from doing so.
Coach Farlay stepped up to the lottery cage and, honestly, if I listened really hard I could hear the sound of the death march playing quietly in the background. “It's time to select this year's mascot.” Unlike the pep rally, and the seeking of Victory, Coach sounded sullen this time, no doubt because he might very well pull out his own name. When Coach started to turn the lever, spinning the ballots in that caged ball, it was the only sound in the room. As he selected a card, he hesitated a moment before pulling it from the cage and lifting it to read. He fumbled with the slip as the entire gym leaned slightly forward and inhaled, holding their breaths until he whispered, “Sebastian Ross.”
Realizing he wasn't the doomed one, he lifted the paper over his head and shouted, “Sebastian Ross!”
Everyone jumped to their feet cheering because they had been spared. I looked over at Bastian, but quite suddenly he turned those teal eyes on me and I saw the wheels turning.
“Why do I have the sense that you are somehow behind this?”
“Because you are smart and handsome.” I leaned a bit closer, “Payback is a bitch.”
He just sat there stunned and I watched as it dawned on him just how far I had gone to get even with him. “You rigged the lottery?”
My evil grin gave him the answer. He responded by grinning back, one so devilish it had mine looking almost angelic.
He whispered, “I know exactly what you've just gotten me into and now, my love, the gloves are most definitely off.” He leaned into me and kissed me hard on the mouth. He strutted down the stands, a man seemingly unconcerned about the horror that awaited him in just a few short days.
Despite his nonchalance, dinner that night was a solemn affair. Mr. Wright and Caden continually threw sympathetic glances at Bastian. Me, I was having a hard time keeping from laughing out loud. I couldn't wait, I knew it was mean and heartless, but I just couldn't wait to see Bastian, my inked and ridiculously sexy Bastian, as the Spring fair mascot. I needed to make sure I brought my camera. Hell, I should do his portrait and send that off to the state art show.
My jubilant mood didn't go unnoticed, especially by Bastian.
After the Wrights disappeared into the kitchen to start the coffee, I said, “I heard it's going to be a bit chilly on Saturday, which is good news for you, Bastian. Nothing like being overly warm.”
He eyes speared me from across the table. A grin curved the one side of his mouth. “As I recall, you know quite a bit about being overly warm.”
I held his stare and replied sweetly, “I do, yes, but I dare say there won't be any chance of that happening on Saturday.”
He placed his fork down and when he spoke it was downright sexy. “You sure about that?”
Poppy stood to head us off. Her parents were in the next room, after all. “Help me clear the dishes, Lark.”
Standing to join her, I saw the wicked gleam in Bastian's eyes, “You all right beautiful, you look a bit warm.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, then disappeared into the kitchen because, damn him, I was feeling warm.
***
The day of the fair arrived, and with it my victory. A Victory for him, and a victory for me. That seemed fair. When we reached the fairgrounds, I noticed my uncle had come with the twins. They had their friends with them and I could tell my uncle felt a bit overwhelmed. When he saw me, he walked right to me and pulled me in for a hug.
“How are you doing?”
“I'm good, better.”
“Good. I know you have people to talk to but if you ever need my ear, I'm here.”
Tenderness filled me—he was outside of his comfort zone, and yet still he offered. “I appreciate that, thanks.”
It was then he realized that Bastian wasn't with me. “Where's Bastian?”
“He's the spring mascot this year.”
An uncontrollable ick face crossed over his features. “Poor Bastian.”
***
The only way in to the fair was through the entrance, currently blocked by a red ribbon. Bastian, as the mascot, needed to greet the crowd and cut the ribbon to kick off the fair.
He had left before all of us to report for duty, but there was something in his manner that concerned me. He was up to something.
I waited in the crowd ready to capture Bastian's fifteen minu
tes of fame on film. With a bit of fanfare, the moment arrived.
The head was larger than I remembered, the long ears twisted at odd angles, the eyes—a shade of blue that didn't occur naturally anywhere in the world—had an almost satanic look to them. The fur was pink, a hot pink like the color of Pepto Bismol, but it was the smile—the big full smile with those two front teeth—that sent a chill through me. Yes, the love of my life was dressed like a giant rabbit—the Easter bunny on crack. Our school mascot, the Fighting Falcon, was embarrassing but even that didn't hold a candle to this. He was having a hard time walking both with the huge feet and because his stomach now extended quite a bit. It threw off his balance.
I tried—okay not very hard—but I did try not to laugh, but I just couldn't help it, especially knowing what lurked underneath that crazy costume. He waved, to me or the crowd, with an awkward motion. It took a while, but he finally reached the ribbon. Coach Farlay was there to help hold those scissors in Bastian’s new giant mitts and seconds later the ribbon slowly floated to the ground on either side of the entrance. Bastian's fifteen minutes of fame were over.
I took as many pictures as I could, and was just putting the camera away when I felt overly large plush hands wrapping around me. Before I could react, I was upside down, over the shoulder of the demonic bunny, being carried off to the sound of the crowd roaring with laughter. How Bastian managed to carry me over his shoulder with the head he sported, I never knew.
We reached the back of the school when he placed me down.
“Can you take this off?” He asked as he held up his one paw-covered hand. I didn't hesitate and noticed the key he had linked on his wrist with an elastic band. Reaching for it, I unlocked the door which led into the boys' locker room. When we reached the lockers, Bastian turned to me still wearing that hideous head. I tried to take a step back from him—up close, damn, the bunny really was creepy-looking—but those arms wrapped around me and drew me close.