*A/N-Alright guys, this is my second shot at writing a non-fanfiction. I didn't really like the "I Dare You" so I'm gonna try another one. Let me know if y'all like it!
This is copyrighted All Rights Reserved.
“Brittany Conoway, you’re under arrest for the consumption of alcohol while under the age of twenty-one,” the burly cop, Sheriff Douglas pronounced.
I scrutinized the field around me for my so-called friends. But the grass was only littered with trash, not a person or car in sight. I felt the despair build up at the thought of my friends bailing on me. Leaving me to deal with the cop alone, in this kind of state.
The cold metal bit into my skin as handcuffs were clamped around my wrists. My eyes stung as I looked up through watery eyes at the sheriff.
“It’s not fair,” I sobbed, “My parents are going to kill me.” I knew my words were coming out slurred, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to go to jail. I searched the sheriff’s face for any sign of sympathy, but all I found was disgust as he lead me to the cop car and the blinding, flashing lights. This emotion confused me. I had known this man for years, he had been the sheriff since I was born. This wasn’t the norm for me, doing something illegal, so he must have known something was up. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
“Please Sheriff Douglas,” I begged, “You know me. Just let me call my parents and they can come pick me up. I can’t get arrested. It’ll ruin everything.”
Sheriff Douglas only looked at me with repulsion, as if I were a filthy cockroach that had crawled onto his dinner plate. “You have the right to remain silent,” he began in a monotone voice. I felt the hopelessness in my chest, knowing he wouldn’t listen, “Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law...”
9 hours earlier.
“Good work Miss Conoway,” My teacher, Mrs. Jacobson said, placing my English paper on my desk. A big red ninety-eight was written at the top of the paper. I smiled inwardly at myself, proud that I had done such a great job on my paper. English was my favorite subject, and I was pretty good at it.
I heard a groan from behind me. I glanced back at my best friend, Kate. She, on the other hand, was not. Mrs. Jacobson slapped the assignment down on Kate’s desk. Slashed across the top were the numbers five and seven, the lowest of the two in the front. “Come on Mrs. Jacobson, it couldn’t have been that bad,” Kate grumbled.
“It could always be worse,” Mrs. Jacobson replied, slapping the next paper down. Another groan escaped from the boy behind Kate.
“Yeah, it definitely could be,” James Cox sighed. The brown-eyed boy turned his gaze on me and smiled. The blood rushed to my cheeks. I may have had a bit of a crush on the blond-haired senior quarterback. He would probably be playing Division I college football if he could just get his grades high enough to graduate from high school.
James nodded his head at me. “What’d you make Brit?” I opened my mouth to answer, but an angry voice stopped me.
“You know you don’t have to tell him your grade just because he asked,” Mrs. Jacobson said, glaring at James. I wasn’t exactly sure why Mrs. Jacobson was so worked up about this. James looked at me expectantly, as if he hadn’t heard her. So when she turned away, I mouthed him my grade, even though I felt like I shouldn’t have.
James scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking away from me and to his buddy, Tristan Stator, dumber than a rock, and muttered something to him. They both laughed and looked at me. I felt my face flush, and turned away from them, slumping in my seat. Mrs. Jacobson had been right, I shouldn’t have told James my grade. Now he would just call me a nerd, and a geek, and a know-it-all, and a teacher’s pet, just like he always mockingly did. He was joking when he called me those names, but I could always sense the hidden meanness underneath.
I caught Mrs. Jacobson’s eyes, and she shook her head slightly, making me feel worse. I stared down at the wooden pattern on my desk for the rest of the class period.
As soon as the bell rang, I jumped up, grabbing my backpack. But I didn’t make it out the door before Mrs. Jacobson called out my name. “Brittany?” she asked, and I immediately turned. I stayed by the door as kids passed me, including Kate, who was too busy talking to James Cox to notice I wasn’t following her out. Yes, my best friend was with the “in crowd,” and I wasn’t. But we were still friends, even though she would sometimes ditch me to sit with the cheerleaders, football, and basketball players. I tried to ignore it though, because she seemed to be the only person who really wanted to hang out with me.
I watched my friend’s wavy brown hair as she twitched out of the room. Mrs. Jacobson’s voice pulled me away. “Can I have a word?” she gestured towards the desk in front of her. I quickly sat down, tapping my foot on the floor. This was my last period of the day, and I was eager to be home and relax. Besides, it was Friday, and I wanted to get started with my weekend. “Brittany,” Mrs. Jacobson began, pulling me out of my musing, “You’ve been doing extremely well on your English papers, if you haven’t noticed.” I nodded, not in an arrogant way, but in acknowledgment to her statement. I had been doing pretty well on my essays lately. “Well, I received this a few days ago in the mail,” Mrs. Jacobson pushed a stack of papers across her desk. I picked it up, and began to read. “It’s an essay contest. You can win several very prestigious awards that’ll look great on your resume and maybe even some scholarships. Since summer break’s only a week away, you’ll have alot of time to write. The deadline’s not until the beginning of school, in September, so you’ll also have alot of time to edit and revise.”
I stood up, picking up my backpack and smiling. “Thanks, Mrs. Jacobson, I’ll definitely look into it,” I replied, not really feeling the whole writing-an-essay-over-summer thing. But I didn’t want to be rude, so I took the packet.
Mrs. Jacobson smiled, “You’re welcome.” I was almost out of the door when Mrs. Jacobson stopped me, yet again. “Oh and Brittany?” I turned to her, plastering a fake smile, becoming slightly impatient.
“Yes?”
“Don’t let kids like James Cox and Tristan Stator treat you like that. Stand up to people like them or they will walk all over you,” Mrs. Jacobson said, catching me off guard.
I nodded curtly at her before walking out into the hallway. Anger boiled up inside me. I hated that Mrs. Jacobson thought I was such a push over. I sighed, thankful that the hall had cleared out except for a few kids meandering around talking.
Kate stood at the end of the hall, near the exit, with a group of popular kids. She spotted me as I got closer, and waved me over. I hesitated, feeling extremely awkward as I walked up to the group of people I never hung out with.
“Guys, you remember Brittany, right?” Kate introduced me. My cheeks flushed bright red as eight pairs of eyes looked me up and down. As if they didn’t know who I was. Clearwater was a tiny town in Arizona, less than a thousand people. We had all grown up together, going to the same elementary, junior high, and now high school. And yet, I was still super shy around these people.
“Hi,” I greeted them, again feeling awkward.
“‘Sup,” a few of them said in return, but the rest just stared at me as if I were a piece of roadkill that seriously needed to be removed from the highway before it stunk too much.
Surprisingly, the deafening silence was broken by none other than James Cox. The boy slung his arm around my shoulders. His cologne was something from Abercrombie & Fitch. It was super strong. I wasn’t sure whether I liked or not.
James’ hand squeezed my shoulder, drawing my attention back to the group. He reached down and snatched the packet Mrs. Jacobson had given me from my fingers. “What’s this?” he asked, looking down at the tiny print.
I reached out to take it back, but he held it away from me as he tried to read it. “Oh it’s nothing,” I started, not wanting to tell the popular kids what exactly the paper entailed. They would not approve.
“An essay contest?” James scoffed, throwing the packet behind him in disgust. I heard the whooshing sound of papers sailing through the air behind me, and pretended not to be offended.
“I don’t even know, some crap Mrs. Jacobson gave me,” I chuckled nervously, shaking my head. I waited for the other kids to begin making fun of me, beating me down mentally with joking but rude insults until I just wanted to run home and hide under the covers of my bed until Monday. But none came.
James fingers combed through my blond hair, my face burned at his touch. I couldn’t tell if it was because I was attracted to him, or because he had never touched me like this before. “Kate, didn’t you want to invite Brittany to the party tonight?”
Caught by surprise, I turned to Kate, raising an eyebrow at her. “Party?” I asked in disbelief.
Kate’s blue gaze flickered around the crowd’s faces. I saw something flash in her eyes, but I couldn’t read it. She then met mine, and smiled, her bleached white teeth practically blinding me, as always. “Yeah, James is hosting an end of the year party. I know you don’t usually like to go but...” Kate trailed off, and James picked up where she left off.
“But I would really like for you to go.” I turned to look at him in shock. His brown eyes held mine, a smile playing on his lips. I tensed as James’ fingers trailed down my arm, caressing it gently.
Something in the back of my mind warned me that this seemed really off. So I began to decline, “I can’t, I’m sorr-”
“Brittany, come on,” James sighed, “You can’t be a goodie two shoes for the rest of your life.”
James comment made me tense, my teeth clenching. I hated being called that name. Angrily, I snapped back at him without thinking. “Fine. I’ll come.”
“Good,” Kate chimed in, beaming at me, the smile not reaching her eyes. “I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock.”
As if there were some invisible signal, the group dispersed into the parking lot. James’ arm was gone, and Kate was already striding over to her pretty little green mustang.
I watched James slink towards his shiny black Ford. He climbed in, the truck looking a bit too high off the ground for him, and then revved the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot, not even sending me a backwards glance.
I glanced around the hall, checking to make sure nobody was watching me. When I was sure no one was around, I bent down to pick up the pieces of paper James had thrown so casually onto the ground.
An image of the quarterback flashed across my brain, his brown eyes narrowed and his smile mocking. I wondered what had suddenly changed his feelings towards me, and why he suddenly wanted me at this party. I hadn’t stood up for myself either. I had just let him make fun of me in front of his friends. Maybe Mrs. Jacobson was right, and I was a push over.
I argued with myself, saying that maybe James genuinely wanted me to come to the party and enjoy myself. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf and-
My train of thought was interrupted by a boy’s voice. “You need some help with that?”
I almost yelped in surprise, having not heard the boy walk up and crouch down in front of me. I looked slowly up, my gaze meeting sea green eyes. The boy’s dark hair was longish, curling just below the top of his ears. He had a strong jawline, and a straight, pointed nose. His lips were full, especially for a guy, and his skin was golden tan. I found my eyes trailing down his thick arms, the muscles straining through the thin blue shirt he wore. He was squatting, but from what I could see from his calves and thighs, he was some kind of athlete. I couldn’t help the fact that he looked slightly familiar.
I was practically drooling, when the boy’s voice brought my attention back to his face. “Hello? Anyone there?” He waved his hand in front of my face, which I noticed, was extraordinarily large.
“Uh, yeah?” I stuttered, my cheeks blushing. I couldn’t believe I had just openly checked this guy out. Seeing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, I jerked my head back down, scooping up the last of the papers and standing up.
“Here,” the guy said, standing up as well, and holding out the paper. I snatched it from him, looking down and straightening my papers, trying not to look like a complete idiot.
“You look familiar,” the boy brought my attention back to him, watching as he scrutinized my face. Suddenly, he reached up and, catching me completely by surprise, pulled the glasses I was wearing off. Everything turned blurry, but I could still make out his face if I squinted.
I opened my mouth to ask him what the heck he thought he was doing, when his gorgeous green eyes lit up with recognition. “You’re Brittany Conoway.”
My brows furrowed, and I pursed my lips. “Who are you?”
The boy scoffed, as if he were offended I didn’t remember him. “You don’t recognize me?”
“Well maybe I could if you’d give me my glasses back. I can’t see anything,” I retorted, becoming irritated with this boy.
He chuckled, but it wasn’t filled with much humor, if any at all. “Looked like you got a good enough look at me a second ago.” His words brought the blood rushing to my cheeks. I reached out blindly for my glasses, vaguely aware that they were in his hand which was at his side.
“Can I just have my glasses back?” I mumbled, suddenly becoming extremely shy again. It was as if a switch had been flipped. For once I had been somewhat witty and normal around a teenage boy, and then the switch had been flipped to on, and I was again the awkward teenage girl I had always been.
“My name’s Lucas Reed,” the boy said, and immediately my blood ran cold. I knew exactly who he was, I just hadn’t seen him in a year since he graduated and left for college.
“Wow, you’ve changed,” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I remembered the old Lucas, comparing him to the new one. He had been the star quarterback before James. James looked like a wussy in comparison to Lucas.
Lucas had led the team to the State Championship his sophomore year, and although they didn’t win that one, he made up for it his junior and senior year. He had scouts coming from all over the country to see him, and eventually chose the University of Alabama where he was currently a red shirted freshman. He would get a shot at being the next big quarterback next year, when several of the seniors would graduate. He looked as if he had been bulking up and gaining muscle to prove that next year he could be an important asset to the team.
The reason I knew all of this was because his mother and mine were really good friends, and although I was sure he hadn’t wanted many people to know, we had been somewhat friends. Not close, but we had seen each other from time to time when our parents would invite each other over for dinner, or at a holiday party. He had never acknowledged me at school, but I had still seemed to feel some sort of loose connection with him.
And although, I didn’t like to think of it, Lucas had been my first kiss, the one when I was thirteen. I never told him it was my first, and even if I had, I doubted he would have remembered it.
“Thanks, I guess,” Lucas interrupted my reverie, and I blushed.
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I hesitated, reaching out for my glasses again. This time, I felt them placed in my hand, his skin rough against mine. I slipped them back on quickly, letting out my breath when I could make out his face clearly again. “Um, so what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to make small talk. Had he thought I had changed too? I doubted it. I was probably still just a child to him. He seemed to have matured in the year he had left Clearwater. Maybe still the cocky, arrogant boy I remembered, but in a much more older and reserved way.
“Oh, I came to visit Coach Jackson. I was already down, so I decided I’d drop by his office to see how the team was doing,” he replied.
“Oh, no,” I stuttered, chuckling nervously, “I meant, what’re you doing back in Clearwater?”
“You don’t know?” Lucas asked in surprise.
“Know what?” I watched as his thick, dark eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Something flashed in his eyes, darkening them. Hurt. I read it easily. Puzzled, I asked again what he was talking about.
Lucas shook his head. His phone chimed, and he pulled it out. Glancing at the screen he sighed, looking completely and utterly defeated. That was when I noticed it. There were dark circles under his eyes, and although those green orbs were flickering like a wild, oddly colored flame, there was something hidden underneath, like a shark beneath the surface of the water.
When Lucas glanced up from his phone he looked as if he had aged five years. His eyes were angry and dark. The anger was directed towards me. “I’ve got to go. Good to see you,” he said curtly, brushing past me and out the front doors of the school.
Completely bewildered by Lucas’ sudden coldness, I felt tears sting my eyes. Was it something I had said? I asked myself over and over again as I reached my car and drove home. I pulled into my driveway, and climbed out slowly, gathering my things from the back one by one. I trudged up to the front door and pushed it open.
I heard my mom call my name from the kitchen, but I ignored her, slinking into my room like a beaten dog. I fell onto my bed and hugged my pillow.
I hadn’t meant to upset Lucas. I thought we were friends. He had been my somewhat friend when he was still in high school, closer even than Kate. I had always fantasized about him coming back and seeing me in a different light. And for a moment it seemed like he had. He was acknowledging my existence. And then it had vanished. He turned cold on me, something I had seen him do to people who he didn’t like. He had done it to me once before, when I had tried talking to him in front of a group of the popular kids when I was a freshman, and he was a junior.
I saw him later that night when my parents invited his family over to my house. He treated me as if nothing had happened at school that day.
From that day on I learned that if I didn’t speak to him in public, we could be friends in private.
Footsteps turned my attention to my door. My mom strode into my room, her blond hair tied in a messy bun. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked, seeing me curled up on my bed.
“I’m fine,” I murmured into my pillow, not wanting to talk.
“What’s wrong, Brittany?” She sat down next to me, my bed dipping where she positioned her weight. Her hand flitted over my back, stroking it gently. I sighed, the breath coming out shakier than I had thought it would.
“Did you know Lucas was in town?” I dodged her question, and rolled onto my side to look at her, gauging her reaction.
My mother’s face tightened, her silver eyes darkening. “Yes...”
I quickly sat up on my elbow, furrowing my eyebrows. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well honey-”
“Why is he down? Shouldn’t he be in college right now?”
“Well actually he finished his freshman exams last week, but he’s down for something else,” my mother replied vaguely, not meeting my eyes. Something like dread boiled in my stomach.
“What do you mean?” I questioned her, the steel in my voice, bringing her gaze back to mine. She sighed, reaching down and grasping my hands in hers.
“Brittany,” my mother took a shaky breath, and I realized her gray eyes were watery.
“What? What’s wrong with Lucas?” my breath caught in my throat. Even though the boy had treated me so rudely today, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.
“It’s-it’s not Lucas,” my mom sighed, her fingers gripping mine tightly.
I felt the air I had been holding go. “Then what is it?”
“It’s David.”
I gasped. “What’s wrong with Mr. Reed?” David Reed was Lucas’ father. Although I wasn’t exactly close with him either, I still felt my heart constrict for him.
“He has terminal cancer,” my mom murmured sadly, a tear dripping down her cheek.
“What? Since when?”
“They found out last week. Lucas finished his exams early to come down to stay with them. They’ve given less than a week.” My mother’s last statement made me tense.
“How did they not find it sooner?” I asked in disbelief. Usually the signs of cancer would show up before that.
“It’s a rare case. The signs didn’t start showing until a few weeks ago. There’s no cure for it,” my mom sighed in defeat.
That’s why Lucas suddenly went cold on me when I asked why he was in town.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I growled, suddenly angry. If I had known, Lucas wouldn’t have felt so terrible. I should have known already.
“I didn’t-I didn’t know how to tell you,” she exhaled. I looked up into her eyes and realized how red and tired they looked. I hadn’t noticed it all week. I wondered how my dad was taking it. Guilt churned in my stomach.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I murmured, sitting up and wrapping my arms around her.
She set her chin on my shoulder. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I think we should visit David and the Reed’s tomorrow. They’ll appreciate it.”
I pulled away and nodded. “Sounds good.” My mother left, and I immediately dialed Kate’s number. “Kate, I won’t be able to make it to the party,” I told her.
“No, Brit, you’ve got to go. Please?” she begged, her voice getting that whiney tint to it.
I sighed. “Kate, I’m not really feeling-”
“James wants you to come,” Kate’s voice seemed slightly choked as she spoke, “You’re not backing out now. I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock. Be ready or I’ll take you to the party no matter how you look.” She hung up. I sighed again. Kate was always extremely bossy.
I flopped back on my bed, wondering what I had gotten myself into.