The Handoff (Big Play #3)
Read The Handoff (Big Play #3) Online
Authors: Jordan Ford
The Handoff
(A Big Play Novel)
#3
Jordan Ford
© Copyright 2016 Jordan Ford
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
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Cover art (copyright) by The Cover Lure.
http://thecoverlure.com/
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It’s nearly spring break. Mack is leaving for New Zealand to win back his girl, and he asks Finn to do him a favor—keep an eye on his little sister, Layla. Finn has his reservations about the party girl, but he isn’t about to let one of his best friends down, so he agrees. Unfortunately for him, he has no idea what he’s getting into…or the effect this dynamic beauty will have on him.
Layla Mahoney likes to party. It’s the only sure-fire medicine for helping her forget the fact that her father’s dead and a new guy has taken his place. But when she’s drunk, Layla has a big mouth…and the wrong friends. Unable to remember what she’s been up to at her various parties, Layla falls into a nasty trap. Thanks to some compromising photographs, she is now under the thumb of the person she hates most in this world—her stepbrother, Derek. With Mack gone, she’s forced to turn to someone who’s always kept his distance, a good guy who has never had time for her partying ways. Letting Finn in on her dark and dirty secrets is something she never planned to do, but his tender strength and quiet protection draws it out of her, creating a bond between them that neither saw coming…and a whirlwind of problems that they’ll only survive if they stick together.
To the one constant in my life. Thank you for your strength, your faith in me, and your unwavering love. Words cannot express how much I need you…and how much you’ll always mean to me.
An Ugly Truth
Layla
I guess you could say it started with Mack’s epic speech to the entire school. Or maybe it was the dramatic way Kaija’s ugly secret was laid bare. But the more I think about it, the more I come back to his speech.
My big brother was supposed to say, “Yay! I’m going to be a Boise State Bronco!”
But no. He shocked the shit out of me (and my entire family) and went for the truth. The raw, honest, heart-wrenching truth.
He doesn’t want to play football anymore…doesn’t want to become the man he was destined to be. A man just like our father. No, he wants to be his own person and chase the dreams that make him happy.
I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe properly since he admitted it. That foreign exchange student, Kaija, changed everything. She made him look at the world differently, changed the kind of person he was.
Part of me wants to hate her for it, but then there’s this other part inside me, the one that can’t help noticing how happy he was when she was around. How strong and confident he looked telling the school that he wasn’t going to be the person everyone expected.
I know this is hard for you guys to understand. But I hope that my decision will encourage you to think about what you want. Don’t live the life your parents and peers expect you to. Don’t be afraid to say how you feel…to apologize…to be honest with your friends.
His challenge to all of us has been nibbling at my brain, making me crazy. Not to mention the fact that he’s painfully miserable without the new love of his life around. Someone destroyed their relationship in the meanest way possible…and I can’t help but wonder if I accidentally played a part in the whole thing.
See, I’ve been having these dreams—weird, fuzzy ones that make my eyes pop open with a gasp. I stare into my darkened room, my heart thrumming as I pull the covers up to my chin. The more time passes, the more I wonder if maybe those murky dreams of me drunkenly shouting at a room full of people are actually memories.
I have to find out.
Which is why on this sunny Saturday morning, I’m walking over to Roxy’s place. Not only is she my best friend, but she’s also at every party I attend. If anyone’s going to know anything, it’ll be her.
Pulling in a shaky breath, I walk along her street. The Fosters’ place is drawing near. My insides jump and jitter as I approach. They were Kaija’s host family. She lived there for about two months, attending Nelson High as an exchange student from New Zealand. I was intrigued by her, but not enough to watch my brother fall all over himself trying to woo her. Mack is not
whipped boyfriend
material, but she had some kind of special power. I still don’t understand it. My only experience with guys has been their raging libido, hot tongues, and quick goodbyes after you give them what they want. No one has ever looked at me the way Mack looked at Kaija. His voice softens every time he talks about her. He’s been completely broken since she left.
I can’t imagine anyone ever feeling broken over me.
My eyes sting. It’s probably just the icy February wind irritating my tear ducts. I blink and sniff, lifting my chin and crossing my arms tight across my chest.
I focus on the sound of my boot heels hitting the concrete. The sky above me is a rich, clear blue. A few white, puffy clouds hover in the distance, but it’s a sunny winter’s day. Spring is coming, I can feel it. In less than a month we’ll all be on vacation. A week of spring break. It’s normally a time to get wild, let loose, and have some fun. But I’m not sure I want to this year.
I don’t know what I want to do.
I’m feeling lost, untethered.
It’s not uncommon. I mean, I’ve been struggling since my dad died, but this whole Mack and Kaija thing has really unhinged me. It’s hard to be immune when the person you care about most in the world has been so badly wounded.
I shudder and grip my arms a little tighter. I want to get to Roxy’s place as fast as I can, but my legs are acting like concrete pillars. I drag my feet, decelerating as I near the Carmichael’s home.
A flash of movement to my right catches my eye. I turn and spot Dana Foster skipping down the front steps. Her round, open eyes, usually so eager, land on me then dart to the ground. Her skin blanches and she dips her head, her skip turning to a morose shuffle.
Really? She’d normally bounce up to the fence with an enthusiastic smile and embarrass herself with friendly hellos and gawky waving. Actually, when I think about it, she hasn’t approached me in weeks.
Feeling bad, I put on my sweetest smile.
Her eyes bulge when she sees it. Her only response is a quick, jerky mouth twitch.
I keep walking past as she clears the mailbox. My confusion must be obvious because when she spots my expression, her cheeks tinge pink and she scurries back inside.
Hitching my large, floppy handbag up on my shoulder, I keep walking, my mind once again churning. I don’t like all this thinking I’ve been doing lately. I’m used to switching off everything, enclosing myself in a safe little world of obliviousness. It’s easier that way.
But I can’t seem to find that place these days. I’m hoping a little chat with my bestie will help resolve it all, and I can go back to being the unaffected girl who likes nothing more than to dance, drink, kiss, and forget.
My finger trembles as I press Roxy’s doorbell. I frown at the offending digit and wrap it within my fist, willing my racing heart to rein it in already.
I only have to wait a few moments before I hear the rush of feet on the stairs. The bolt flicks and the door opens to reveal Roxy. She’s wearing a pair of coral red tights that hug her long, slender legs, making her look as hot as she knows she is. Her loose top hangs over one shoulder, showing off creamy white skin and a thin pink bra strap. Blue eyes that can see everything travel down my body, then pop back up to my face. She’s obviously impressed with my ripped skinny jeans, leather boots, and faded leather jacket combo. Her face lights with a smile as she sweeps her shiny brown locks over her shoulder.
“Hey, Lay-lay.”
“Hi.” I smile back, hoping it’s bright enough, then step into the house.
I’ve come here so often it feels quite normal to take the lead up to her bedroom.
“Have you noticed how strange Dana Foster’s been acting lately?”
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Roxy frown. “What do you mean?”
We reach the landing and I shrug as I turn for her bedroom door. “Well, normally when she sees me, she’s all over me like a rash, but recently she’s been kind of hedgy. What’s up with that?”
“Dana Foster tries too hard. It’s so embarrassing.” Roxy makes a face, her pink tongue poking out of her mouth. “But I don’t know what’s going on with that girl. Maybe she’s finally figured out that she’ll never be one of us.”
I ease into Roxy’s room and look around me like I do every time. Seriously, it’s like a marshmallow sneezed in here and then cotton candy rolled in it. For a girl as chic and sophisticated as Roxy, she sure knows how to cling to girly tendencies when it comes to her bedroom—soft pink walls, frilly white duvet and pillow cases, a poster of ballet slippers resting on an old wooden chair tacked to the wall by her bed. And then there’s the smell. It’s this sweet, overpowering floral concoction made up of all the different perfumes and lotions she wears.
I guess I don’t mind it, but today it feels like overkill. Today, everything about Roxy feels like overkill.
Why am I here again?
Slipping the bag off my shoulder, I place it on the floor, then plop into Roxy’s plump, white reading chair. I run my finger down the spines of the pile of magazines stacked on her IKEA cube, keeping my gaze on the glossy top cover. The actress, Abigail Breslin, has this sexy little smirk on her face and is looking super-hot in a fitted black dress. Her hair is curled too tight, making her look like a poodle, and what is up with that lipstick color?
I hear myself internally criticizing the stunning, successful actress and cringe. Who the hell am I?
I then think of Dana and her hopeful smiles that have now morphed to jittery mouth twitches. “Do you ever wonder if we’re too mean?”
I steal a glance at Roxy’s expression, knowing my question will garner some kind of reaction. Her blue eyes narrow. Tucking her leg beneath her, she positions herself on her bed and tips her head to look at me.
“Okay, what’s the matter? You look…pensive. And you don’t normally do pensive.”
I roll my eyes with a soft groan, then stare up at the ceiling. “I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Are you okay?” Roxy’s voice softens with concern.
I rub my eyes, careful not to mess with my mascara. “Just nightmares.”
“Nightmares? About your dad again?”
I sit up, shaking my head to ward off any kind of reminder. I don’t want to relive those harrowing days. Roxy found out about them because I’d been sleeping over one night when I had one. When she woke me up, she was so scared she made me tell her everything. Talking about it had actually been quite good for me, I guess. But I didn’t like being reminded, just in case that horrible dream came back. The one where Dad was lying on his bed, strong as an ox. He had me in his arms and was doing push-ups, using me as his weights. I was giggling and happy…until his arms buckled. I fell onto his chest and all of a sudden sank right through him. His big, solid muscles turned to liquid, his square face hollowing out until I was staring at nothing but a skull. That’s when I’d start screaming.
I haven’t had one of those in a while. My mind has been too busy concocting other dreams. With a shaky sigh, I admit the truth. “No, these dreams are different. They’re kind of fuzzy.”
“What are they about?”
I swallow, not wanting to say. If I’m right about my
memories, not dreams
theory, this conversation is about to suck big time. But I have to know.
“They’re about me being at this party and acting like a lunatic. Shouting at everyone like I’m doing this big, crazy speech.” I glance up at Roxy, studying her expression. It folds for a second, like she’s fighting the urge to cringe.
I suck in a breath and grip the arms of the plush chair. “Shit! Please tell me these are nightmares and not actual memories.”
Her entire face puckers with the last look I want to see.
“Roxanne!” My voice pitches high.
“What?” She flings her arms wide. “I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to be totally humiliated.”
I cover my face and let out this whimpering kind of moan. “What did I do?”
“Okay. Okay.” Roxy gets off the bed and walks across to me. I can’t see any of this; I can just hear her movements. Her fingers land on my back and she starts rubbing slow circles.
Great. Slow circles! This news is going to be worse than I thought.
“So, you got a little cray-cray at the New Year’s Eve party. After Mack left, you stormed off. When Michelle and I found you downstairs in this smoky basement room, you were seriously drunk. We counted down to midnight and while everyone was kissing, you stood up on the table and started ranting about how Mack was probably sucking face with some Hobbiton bitch.”
I drop my hands with a gasp and stare at Roxy.
“First I’d heard they were together.” Roxy gives me a pained smile.
My shoulders droop and I close my eyes. “Did I say anything else?”
I know I did. I don’t have to ask. I can feel it coming.
“Well, you kind of went on about how she was two-faced and had all these secrets.”
“Oh no,” I whisper, feeling nauseated. “Who was in the room?”
“A lot of people.”
I open my eyes in time to see Roxy shrug. She’s giving me this
what can you do
kind of look. It’s not making me feel any better.
I grit my teeth and glare at the carpet. “So it was one of them.”
“One of…what?”
“Who did that awful thing to Kaija!” I flick my hand in the air. “The cartoons, plastered all over school? Her big secret laid bare!”
Roxy’s stopped rubbing my back now. She leans away from my snappy tone and gives me a half-hearted nod. “Probably…I mean, yeah, I guess you could have started someone thinking.”
The urge to find that asshole and finish him or her off rises inside of me. I’m kind of surprised by the strength of it. I mean, when I first caught Kaija on Mack’s bed, I was ready to destroy her. She was stealing everything that was precious to me. But watching my brother suffer has really affected me. If I can find the culprit then maybe Mack can smash him one and get the sad out of his system.
I stand from the chair and start pacing Roxy’s room. “So, who was in there?”
“I don’t remember. It was a crowded room.”
With a frustrated huff, I spin to face her. “No one said anything about what I did. If there were so many people there, why didn’t they say something?”
“How were we supposed to tell you? When the whole Kaija thing happened, it was just way too awkward. We made a pact to stay silent.”