Authors: Kieran Scott
Before I knew it the bell had rung. I handed in my paper at the front of the class. Katrina slipped out the door in front of me. I was opening my mouth to say hi, when suddenly Darla was all up in my grill. She smelled like strawberries and looked like she was on her way to a club, not eighth-period gym.
“Charlie! I have to talk to you!”
Behind her, Katrina disappeared into the crowd.
“What’s up?” I asked, leaning one shoulder into the wall.
“Listen, I was thinking . . . about the game tonight—”
Here it came. She was going to politely tell me she didn’t really want me to sit with her. Not that I cared. Really. Who wanted to sit
in the bleachers and get drenched while watching a bunch of meatheads battle it out over a ball? I clenched my teeth and told myself to take it like a man.
“I don’t really want to sit outside in this, do you?” she asked.
I glanced out the window across the hall. Lightning flashed. “Doesn’t seem safe,” I replied.
She laughed, and my face warmed. “Exactly! So I was thinking . . . maybe we could hit Moe’s Diner instead? They have the best pie, you have no idea.”
I blinked. Had I heard her right? “What about your friends?”
“Oh, they’ll go to the game anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But can I tell you a secret?” She leaned in super close to me, and I forced my eyes to gaze at the window and away from her cleavage. “I kind of hate football.”
“Me too!” I said.
Darla’s smile widened. “So then it’s a date?”
I grinned back.
“Definitely.”
“Cool. I’ll get your number from Josh and text you the info,” she said, turning around, her skirt twirling out around her. “Bye, Charlie.”
“Bye,” I said, half-dazed as I lifted my hand.
I glanced around as the hallway buzzed with activity, waiting for the punch line. Had one of the hottest girls in school really asked me out?
I was starting to think this place was different after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Katrina
I am not.
I am nothing.
I am nothing to you.
I stared at the rain from under the small overhang in front of the library on Friday afternoon, clutching my books. My shift had ended half an hour ago, and my mother was supposed to pick me up and take me for my annual checkup at the doctor. It was on the calendar. As out of it as she’d been lately, she’d never forgotten anything that was on the calendar. But clearly not even the calendar mattered anymore. Before long she was going to forget I existed entirely.
I checked my phone. Thirty-five minutes late. I envisioned myself stepping out into the rain and walking home, but in this deluge I’d be soaked through in five seconds and my books would be ruined. I stared at Ty’s face on my home screen. I hadn’t spoken to him since Wednesday, but who else was there to call? Raine didn’t have a car, and things had been weird between us anyway, since she’d kind of turned her back on me during my argument with Ty. I’d purposely shown up to school late the last two mornings
to avoid our bathroom ritual, and I’d spent my lunch periods in the library, eating with Zadie while she read novels and I prepped for my English presentation on Monday. Aside from sitting next to Raine in the two classes we had together, I hadn’t seen her.
Thirty-seven minutes. I held my breath and hit Ty’s name. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey,” he said flatly. “I thought you were never gonna speak to me again.”
My heart slammed over and over and over again. “I thought
you
were never gonna speak to
me
again.”
We both laughed. “So what’s up?” he asked.
“I’m kind of stranded at the library,” I said, wincing over needing a favor after the silence of the past two days. “Is there any chance—”
“I’m right down the street,” he told me. “I’ll be there in five.”
He hung up. I sighed and leaned back against the gray brick wall next to the automatic door. At least he wasn’t mad at me. Or at least he wasn’t so mad he’d turn me down. But there were still nervous butterflies buzzing around my chest. Where was my mom? Had she really forgotten about me, or was it something worse?
Taking a deep breath, I told myself to chill. I was just more on edge lately than usual because of this English project. And because of the fight with Ty. But this rain felt ominous, portentous. What were the chances that both a person’s parents could end up in devastating car accidents in the course of one year?
Ty’s car pulled to a stop in front of the library. I pushed away from the wall. At that exact moment, my mother came trudging around the corner of the building, huddled under an umbrella.
“Katrina! There you are! I thought you were meeting me at the doctor!”
Ty got out of his car and jogged over, holding his denim jacket up over his hair. My throat closed over as my mother saw him.
“Mrs. Ramos,” he said. “You’re here!”
“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” she replied. “She’s still my daughter.”
“The calendar said to pick me up here,” I told her quietly. “I never could have walked to the doctor from here in time.”
“No. It said ‘Katrina, doctor, five p.m. I’ve been sitting in that waiting room worried about you for half an hour. Why didn’t you call me?” she demanded, her eyes flashing.
Because I’m terrified to call you,
I thought, starting to tremble.
Because you always yell at me when I call you.
“I—”
“Oh, I see. You’d rather call him!” my mother said, throwing a hand toward Ty but not bothering to look at him. “You’d rather your knight in shining armor come to your rescue.”
My fingers curled into fists. I couldn’t believe I was getting yelled at. Again. I’d done nothing wrong. I almost never did anything wrong and she was always, always yelling at me.
“I
just
called him five minutes ago,” I told her. “After you didn’t show up!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady!” my mother thundered. “This is not my fault!”
“Katrina, maybe we should go,” Ty said.
I took a step toward him, realizing I had to get out of this argument. Feeling very much like I was about to explode.
“What makes you think she’s going with you?” my mother demanded.
“Maybe because she’s actually welcome in my house,” Ty replied sarcastically.
My mother’s face went slack, then turned purple. “How dare you? My daughter is always welcome in our home. It’s not my fault she chooses to avoid it at all costs.”
Unbelievable.
Not my fault.
Nothing was ever her fault.
“Then whose fault is it?” I demanded, rain dripping from my hair, my nose, my eyelashes.
“What?” my mother gasped.
“Whose fault is it, Mom?” I asked, shaking from head to toe. “At least I know Ty loves me. I can’t say the same for you.”
“Katrina!” my mother gasped.
But it was too late. I’d already taken Ty’s hand, the same hand that had clasped my arm so hard on Wednesday afternoon, and we walked toward his car.
“Katrina! You’d better not get in that car!” my mother yelled through the rain. “Get back here right now!”
Ty opened the door for me, and I dropped into the low seat. As soon as the door closed, I couldn’t see my mother anymore. She was nothing but a blur of tan coat distorted by the raindrops. Ty got in and I tried to stop my lip from quivering.
“Wow. That was intense,” he said.
“Can we go, please?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Ty looked at me, breathless. “Move in with me.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Screw her,” Ty said. “Move in with me full-time. I’ll even clear off a shelf for your books.”
I laughed, a tear slipping down my face. I knew that we had to talk about what had happened at school on Wednesday, and somehow, someday I’d find a way to bring it up. But now was not the time. Now he was being more romantic than he’d ever been in his life.
“Seriously?” I said. “The guys won’t mind?”
“Who cares?” he said. “I pay most of the rent anyway. They’ll suck it up.”
I leaned over the center console and kissed him. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m in.”
“Good. Now let’s go get something to eat.” He slammed the car into gear and pulled into traffic. “Because it’s payday and after that performance, my baby deserves a steak.”
I took a deep breath. The last thing I felt like I could do at that moment was eat, and steak was really my least favorite food on earth. But I knew how much he loved Longhorn and at that moment, I didn’t want to argue. What I wanted was to pretend the last five minutes had never happened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Charlie
The finish line was dead ahead. I could see my mom and dad standing a few yards away. When my father spotted me, his jaw dropped. I knew the feeling. Was it really possible that I was winning this? How could I be winning this?
Behind me, footsteps pounded. The ground was still wet from yesterday’s rain, and my legs were dripping with slick mud. The back of my blue LCHS tank was a sweat rag. My lungs burned with effort. The finish line was five feet away. Two. One. And I was across.
The small crowd exploded in applause. I leaned forward, bracing my hands above my knees as Brian and my other teammates caught up with me.
“Dude! Way to turn on the speed!” Brian gasped. “We came in one-two-three!”
I slapped hands with him and with the other LCHS runner, Carlos. Some big dark-haired kid with a camera came over.
“Smile for the yearbook!” he said, and snapped our picture, our arms loosely draped around one another. Then, out of nowhere, Darla flung herself into my arms. I was so stunned, I nearly fell
over and took her with me. Luckily, Brian was there to stop me.
“You won!” Darla cried, bouncing up and down. She was wearing a blue-and-black-plaid miniskirt, a low-cut white tank top, and a skin-tight blue cardigan. Half the guys from the other teams were eyeing her as they got their water. “Can you believe you won?”
“Not really, no,” I said as my mother and father joined us.
“Great run, Charlie!” my dad said, clapping me on the back. He’d come straight from a St. Joe’s JV football game and was still wearing his SJP colors. My mother, ever the supporting wife, also wore a green-and-yellow scarf around her neck as she enveloped me in a hug, her brown hair back in a loose ponytail.
“You were amazing!” she said, releasing me quickly. She looked down at her fingers. “Sticky, but amazing!” she joked.
I blushed deep red and looked at the ground, avoiding Darla’s eye. “Thanks a lot, Mom!”
“I’m sorry! Your brothers are usually the sweaty, dirty, guy’s guys,” she said. “I’m still getting used to the idea of you as an athlete.”
Great. This kept getting better and better.
“Who’s your friend?” my dad asked.
“Oh, sorry. This is Darla Shayne,” I said. “Darla, these are my parents.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cox,” Darla gushed.
“You as well,” my mother said, casting a discerning eye over Darla’s outfit. “You were the girl Charlie went out with last night?”
“Guilty,” Darla said with a laugh.
I smiled as our eyes met. We had gone to Moe’s and ordered twelve different kinds of pie so that I could try each one, and Darla had tasted most. She had joked that she’d brought me there for
selfish reasons. Apparently Veronica never stepped foot in the place because she said she “gained ten pounds just from inhaling.” It was nice to see that Darla wasn’t always deferring to Veronica. And that she liked to eat.
“Thanks for that,” my dad said. “That apple pie he brought home was delicious.”
“Oh, well, Moe’s is the best diner in North Jersey,” Darla said. “You would have found that out eventually.”
“We were going to take Charlie out for a late breakfast slash early lunch and then go buy him his varsity jacket,” my mother said, looping her arm around Darla’s and steering her away. “Why don’t you show us how to get to this Moe’s place?”
“I’d love that!” Darla said, glancing back at me. “As long as it’s cool with you, Charlie.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Of course.”
Suddenly Coach Ziegler appeared in front of me and my dad, grinning from ear to ear. “That was a stellar run, Charlie,” he said. “Absolutely stellar. No one on our team has beaten Brian in the last year.”
“That’s fantastic, son,” my father said, his blue eyes wide.
“David Cox? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ziegler said, offering his hand. “Thanks for not turning your son here into a football player. I’ve never been happier to have a transfer student join our team.”
“Looks like he finally found his sport,” my dad said, shaking hands with the coach.
“He certainly has,” Coach said. “You two have a good day. We’ll meet in the gym before school on Monday morning to go over the race with the team, okay, Charlie?”
“Sounds good.” I nodded.
“He seems to really like you,” my father said, following me to the bleachers to grab my stuff. I was kind of dying for a shower, but my mom and Darla were already halfway to the parking lot. It looked like I was going to have to throw on a hat and a sweatshirt and deal.
“He barely knows me,” I replied, swiping some of the mud off my legs with a towel from my bag.
“Yeah, but you’re a winner now,” my father said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rolling up on his toes. “And everybody loves a winner.”
I smiled, but something about the way he’d said that made my insides curdle. You’re a winner
now
.
“So, tell me about this Darla girl,” my father said, reaching around my back and squeezing my shoulder as I stood up. “And what happened to Stacey? You becoming a heartbreaker on me too?”
I looked down at my feet as we walked. My sneakers were covered in mud. I slipped out of my father’s grasp.
“You know what, Dad? I think I’m gonna run inside and shower,” I said, my stomach clenched.
“But your mother and Darla are waiting,” my father told me.
“I can’t sit and eat with them like this,” I said, backing away. “It’ll be five minutes.”