Dare You To (43 page)

Authors: Katie McGarry

My grip on her loosens and she jerks her

arm away. How could she know that? Over

Beth’s shoulder I spot Gwen skulking at the end of the hallway. She glances at me, then immediately averts her gaze. Dammit.

Beth kneads her eyes with her hands. “I fell for the jock again. The worst part is I told you how to play me. Convince me you love me and I’ll fall into your bed. I’m so fucking stupid.”

The warning bell rings and I watch in shock as Beth turns. No. She can’t believe that. “I do
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love you.”

Beth pauses in the door frame and I pray

she’ll say she believes me. “No, you don’t. You don’t want to feel bad for winning the dare.”

She walks into class and the tardy bell rings.

Beth’s second period teacher assesses me.

“Get to class.” Then closes the door in my face.

Feeling numb, I turn in the direction of my next class. I made love to Beth and I lost her. I swallow as my own eyes sting. It was too soon.

She didn’t trust me enough. What we did

together, it was too much, too fast. I run a hand over my head and try to comprehend how

everything blew out of control.

“Ryan!” calls Gwen from behind me. “Ryan!

Please wait!”

Rage shoots through my veins as I spin in her direction and tower over her. “Are you finally happy, Gwen? Congratulations, you’ve bagged homecoming. I hope it was worth it.”

Her eyes widen and she steps back. “I didn’t do it for homecoming.”

“Then why? Why would you hurt me like

this?”

She blinks. “Hurt you? I’ve said nothing

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about you.”

“If you hurt her, you hurt me. I love her.”

Gwen’s face pales. “You only think you love her. I just…I just told a few people. Just enough so word would get back to you,

because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. I didn’t know that they’d call her a whore. I didn’t know about the locker. I swear, Ryan. I feel awful. I do. I had no idea it would go down like this.”

When I angle my body away from her, she

tries to reach out to me. “Please, you have to believe me. Ryan…”

I move out of range and her fingers hover in the air for a second before dropping to her side.

“She’s all wrong for you. I thought if you heard it, maybe from other people, you’d see what she really is and then you’d…”

Nausea crawls up my throat. “What? What

did you think I’d do?”

Tears pool in her eyes and she shrugs.

“Come back to me.”

I pop my neck, trying to relieve the tension, but find the act did nothing to help. “We were over long before Beth came to this school. If you can’t understand that, try this—I love her,
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Gwen. I love
her.
”

I turn my back and head in the direction of my next class. This school isn’t that big and, because of that, Beth won’t be able to hide from me for long.

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Beth

I KNEW THIS MATERIAL LAST WEEK. I know I

did. I studied every night and Scott quizzed me most mornings. But I’m drawing blanks. The words jumble as I read them, which means my paper’s blank. The bell rings. “Please bring your tests to me,” says Mrs. Hayes.

The hand clutching my pencil sweats. I’ve written my name. That’s it. My head falls forward. I failed. Again. This is who I was meant to be.

“Beth,” says Mrs. Hayes. She walks back to my seat after everyone else turns in their tests and leaves. “Are you okay?”

“No.” I’m a whore and I’m stupid. I snatch my backpack and leave the blank test on my desk. “I am not okay.”

I burst out of class. Groveton is a mistake.

I’m a mistake. Ryan lied to me. He used me. I
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was a dare. I’m nothing more than a stupid whore who makes mistake after mistake after mistake. Just like my mom.

People laugh as I pass. They’re judging me and their judgment is spot-on. I don’t belong here. I never have. I can’t go to lunch and I can’t handle the thought of gym. I don’t want to listen to Ryan lie so he can make himself feel better, to Gwen’s laughter because I’m the trash she wants me to be, or to Lacy’s pleas to talk to her.

Ryan rounds the corner and I duck into the hallway where I saw Isaiah on my first day of school. God, I’ve fucked everything up. I lost my best friend because I fell in love with a stupid jock who doesn’t love me back. My

fingers tunnel into my hair and I pull hard to cause pain. Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

Why couldn’t I do one thing right in my

life? If I’d left with my mother weeks ago, none of this would have ever happened.

I stop breathing. I can still go. I packed my remaining money and a change of clothes in my bag last week. The backpack weighs me

down. The books I can ditch in my locker. The other items that I kept as reminders can also be
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left, but not here. I know exactly where I can unload them on my way out of town.

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Ryan

SMACK. THE BALL COLLIDES with my glove.

Bottom of the sixth and the game is tied. I wiggle the fingers of my throwing hand to keep them from becoming stiff from the cold.

Late October and it’s the coldest day of the year. Cold-weather games bring strange

sensations. The wind burns my cheeks and

fingers, but sweat forms from the heat trapped beneath the mock turtleneck of my uniform.

“Let’s go, Ryan!” Dad calls from the stands.

Playing the perfect wife and mother, Mom sits right beside him with a fleece blanket covering her legs. My eyes scan the bleachers again.

Beth’s not here and she won’t be showing.

A high-pitched whistle originates from home plate. The new batter is taking his time for the third pitch in what I assume is an attempt to freeze me out. Logan steps to the left of the
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batter’s box and motions for me to throw.

He wants me to keep moving so my muscles

will stay warm. I’m distracted and have

pitched the shittiest game of my life. My arm winds back, releases, and I curse when the ball flies two feet to the left of Logan’s glove.

Logan pulls the catcher’s mask to the top of his head and walks toward the mound.

“We’ll find her,” Chris says as he

approaches me from the right. “Lacy’s already looking for her and after the game me, you, and Logan will do whatever we have to do to get her to listen.”

Beth skipped class. I should have gone after her then, but Coach would have kept me from playing. “I can’t focus.”

“Yeah, you can,” says Chris. “You have ice water in your veins when you pitch. Go to that place and you’ll be fine.”

How do I explain that I never had ice water in my veins when I pitch? That there is a constant burning pressure that threatens to destroy my pitch even when I’m not distracted.

“Your pitch,” Logan starts when he reaches the mound, “is everywhere. Rein it in and you’ll get to her faster.”

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He’s right. I will. Chris swears under his breath and I follow his troubled gaze to the first baseline fence. Lacy stands on the

opposite side with Beth’s pack dangling from her shoulder.

Logan gets in my face. “One pitch. One

more pitch.”

“We’ve got another inning,” Chris protests.

Logan throws him a glare. “One pitch.”

They return to their spots and the batter digs his cleats into the dirt. This one’s for Beth.

Logan flashes two peace signs in a row. I nod, glance over my left shoulder, and spot a

shadow of movement. Crossing my right arm over my left, I throw the ball to the first baseman, and hear the sweet word come out of the ump’s mouth: “Out!”

The crowd cheers and I run off the field, into the dugout, and out to the other side. Lacy’s eyes are wide with panic and she extends

Beth’s backpack to me. “I don’t know what it means.”

I tear the pack open as Lacy continues to talk. “I drove by her house, but no one was there. Then I drove around town and came up with nothing. So I went home, hoping that
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maybe she dropped by or called the

landline, and I found this.”

The pressure that always threatens me

explodes and I toss the pack to the ground. My hand clutches the bottle of rainwater with the ribbons tied to it. I suck in a breath before unfolding the note tucked into the ribbons:
I
thought I could, but I can’t.

Dammit. Her mom. She’s gone after her

mom and Beth has had enough time to find a way into Louisville by now. I race back into the dugout and grab my bat bag.

“Ryan?” Coach calls from the other end of the dugout.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got an emergency. Put Will in for me.”

I slip the bottle of water into my bag and toss it over my shoulder. Chris wraps a solid hand around my arm. “Where are you going?

We have one more inning and the game is tied.

Will can’t hold these batters like you can.”

“Beth’s running away. If I don’t stop her, I’ll lose her.”

Chris tightens his grip. “You promised me you’d never walk from another game.”

The ice water Chris prayed for finally enters
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my veins. “Let me go before I physically

remove your hand from my arm.”

“You’re choosing her over us?”

Logan angles himself between me and Chris.

“Let him go, Chris. He’d never dog you if you chose Lacy over a game.”

“That’s different,” yells Chris. “I love Lacy.”

“Take a look at him.” Logan gestures to me.

“He’s in love with Beth. You and Lacy don’t own the emotion.”

Chris eyes me and I see the war inside him.

He yanks the hat off his head and turns from me. I’m letting him down, but I let Beth down first. Logan nods at me and I give him a quick nod of thanks back.

The crowd buzzes with conversation as I

exit the dugout. I keep my head down and

ignore how people stare and even the

occasional shout. The perfect Stone is doing a very imperfect thing and I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks about it. I hear loud

thumping footfalls striking the metal bleachers.

If I’m lucky, I can hightail it to my Jeep before Dad reaches the parking lot.

Like the rest of today, I’m not lucky.

“Ryan!”

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I don’t have time for this. I open the

Jeep’s door and toss my bag in the back. Dad grabs hold of the door. “What are you doing?

You have another inning to play and the game is tied.”

“Beth’s in trouble and I’m going after her.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to finish that game.” Dad’s face reddens and he places his hand on his hips. In twenty-five years, I’ll be his clone if I continue on my current path. My entire life I desired nothing more than to be him. It’s funny how life changes.

“If I don’t go after her, she’ll be gone.”

“Let her go. She needs to be gone. Since she entered your life you’ve lost focus on

everything that’s important. You’re letting down your team, Ryan. You are single-handedly destroying your career in baseball.

Everything I’ve worked so hard for!”

A strange mixture of ice and heat fights

through my veins as I go toe-to-toe with my father. “You haven’t worked hard for it! I have.

This is my life. Not yours. If I want to play baseball, I’ll play. If I want to go to college, I’ll go to college. If I want to talk to my brother, I will. If I want to go after Beth, I am. You are
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not making my decisions anymore.”

Spit flies out of his mouth as he yells at me,

“You’re going to destroy your life over a drug-using waste of life?”

Power surges through me and my fist

connects with his face. Adrenaline shakes my body and I watch as my father stumbles back.

“Don’t you ever call her that again.”

I jump into the Jeep, turn on the engine, and push the accelerator. I don’t lose and I’m not losing her.

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Beth

I RUB MY HANDS TOGETHER and blow into them for possibly the thirtieth time. Hiding in the alleyway behind the bar, I stare at Mom’s apartment. Trent entered right after I arrived and he’s been in there for three hours. I have no choice but to wait. He’ll kill me if he sees me again.

The door to the apartment opens and the

bald asshole finally stumbles out. Fucking fabulous. He’s tweaking, which means he’ll be in a kicking babies mood. I’ll take a heavy heroin user over a tweaker any day.

Resting his weight against his car door,

Trent fumbles his keys, drops them, and dips low to pick them back up. Yeah, asshole, you belong behind a wheel. I hope you drive into a wall and die.

His car doesn’t start immediately. The

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engine whines as he turns it over twice.

Come on. The third time the engine groans to life. The car trembles when he backs it out and eases onto the main road.

I dash across the parking lot and bang on Mom’s door as I try the knob. It doesn’t give, but I hear Mom undoing the chains on the

other side. She opens the door and wavers when she spots me. “Elisabeth.”

I push in. “Did you pack?”

“No,” she says. “I’m not sure we should do this.”

God, this guy is a slob. His clothes are

everywhere and so are the little empty packets that hold his meth. I grab a garbage bag and head into the bathroom. “What do you need?”

She follows me and rubs her bare arm. I