Chapter 17:
Heyyyy!! Soo sorry!! Again!! D: I’m bad at deadlines!! Hope you enjoy the chapter and thanks for being patient with me!!!
I was surprised at how easily my parents had allowed me freedom.
When I got home and asked them if I could go to the O’Bruman football game, neither of them even set up a fuss. They just asked how long it would take to get there. If I needed gas. When the game started. When I’d get home. Did I have money to pay to get in? For food and drink? Did I have a blanket to bring in case it got chilly? What time I’d get home again?
It was all very weird. They were freakishly calm and very nice and each gave me a hug as I got in the car.
Maybe it was because Scarlett showed up at my house with me.
When Scarlett pulled up to my house and walked in with me, you’d have thought a fucking Mayberry bomb had just exploded in my house and coated everything in SuperSweetlyWeirdFriendlyEverything’s-fucking-fine-and-dandyness juice. And I think I’m allergic to the stuff.
I introduced them to Scarlett, and Scarlett smiled at them looking all normal and friendly and Scarlett-y and shook their hands. Then they did all that weirdly pleasant questioning that I mentioned before. Dad handed me a twenty. Mom put her arm around my shoulder and kindly reminded me to mind my manners. We walked out to Scarlett’s bright blue ’04 Honda Civic and then mom and dad both gave me a hug before I got in the car and then stood in the driveway and waved as we drove away.
To say I was freaking out was an understatement.
“The fuck was that?!” I exclaimed once Scarlett and I were in the car and far enough down the street so that my parents couldn’t see the utterly flabbergasted look on my face. I was half turned in my seat as I gawked back at them over the headrest.
“The fuck was what?” Scarlett asked, not even the slightest bit baffled. She was messing with the buttons on the radio.
“My parents!” I whipped back forward in my seat, readjusting my friggin’ seatbelt. “What the hell’s wrong with them?” They were acting like they were those awfully smiley perfect families in commercials, all white carpets and broad smiles and nondescript yet nice clothes. And my parents are nothing like that. My parents smile very small-like. Mom and Dad were both wearing t-shirts they got when they went to see Bon Jovi in 1983. And our carpet is brown.
“What are you talking about?” Scarlett asked, giving me this confused look. “They seemed fine to me. Really nice.”
“Are you kidding me?!” I gasped. “They were…! They were just…!”
“Being really cool parents and letting you go with a friend they’ve only met once? Seriously Clarisse, most parents would be all ‘who are you and want are you gonna do with my kid?’ when they first meet someone. They were great.”
I frowned, hunching down in my seat, glowering out the windshield. “It was weird though. I’ve never…” I trailed off because I was embarrassed at what I was about to say. Because I was gonna say ‘I’ve never gone anywhere with anyone really,’. Which is embarrassing as hell, because, I’m a fricking senior in high school!!! I should have friends and hung out and done stuff!! (I don’t mean nasty stuff, I mean cool stuff ya pervs! Get your minds outa the gutters!!!).
“Gone to a football game with a friend?” Scarlett supplied casually, yet I could just tell that she knew what I was thinking. She understands that my social skills are more like verbal assault skills.
“Yeah.” I agreed quietly. I fiddled with the seatbelt for a bit, but then suddenly felt a dash of excitement. I was with Scarlett. In her car. Going somewhere. It didn’t matter if it was only a stupid high school football game where stupid idiot Sebastian was playing, I was going out. I felt excited.
“I’m excited,” I said, unable to stop myself.
A big grin lit up Scarlett’s face. “I know! This is so fun. You wanna stop somewhere to eat first or anything? We’re a little early, anyway.”
Another tingle of excitement hit my belly and I felt stupid but the giddiness over road it. I was out. Out of the house. Out in a car on the road with a friend. A grin lit up my face. “I don’t care. I’m not that hungry actually. A little thirsty maybe.”
Scarlett gestured with her free hand to the right side of the road. “There’s a Taco Johns. We can just use the drive through.” I nodded and Scarlett pulled in the turning lane and then into the Taco John’s drive through lane. As we waited behind a minivan, I finally heard the song on the radio.
“Oh ew, what the fuck’s this?” I reached for the dial but Scarlett’s hand snapped out like a whip. “Ouch!”
“Don’t touch it!! I love this song!!” Then she promptly turned the volume so loud the bass pounded in the speakers.
“The fuck is this?!” I shouted over the loud, pulsing-ish music. It was annoying and loud and had a constant loud beat that smacked me straight in the eardrums. The singer was distinctly female and favored repeating her obviously favorite phrase. Which is annoying as fuck.
Scarlett laughed. “It’s ‘Call Me Maybe’, by Carly Rae Jensen. I love it!” She proceeded to sing along and dance or something. I plugged my fingers into my ears and glowered out the windshield, wishing I had some cotton wads to shove in my ears. Or hell, maybe a hack saw to just cut my damn eardrums out.
Scarlett inched her car forward and she studied the menu. Oh my lord…how the fuck to people listen to this?! It’s catchy, I’ll admit that…but it’s more annoying than catchy. I pushed my fingers harder into my ears, glowering. My excitement is momentarily dead.
The car moved forward again and then she asked if I wanted anything. Just a Fanta, I said. Scarlett ordered into the fuzzy intercom. We moved forward, then waited for the minivan. The dude at the drive through window kept handing out bag after bag after bag. Good cripes, and America wonders why it’s so fat?
The song finally ends. “Thank you God!”
“Oh hush. It wasn’t that bad.”
“My ears are bleeding.”
“More like your brain because it couldn’t handle that level of awesomeness.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so Scarlett smiled triumphantly. “Winning,” She said.
“Oh my God, don’t even get me started on Charlie Sheen.” That man has problems. Like, he got fucked in the head by all the publicity of Hollywood and crap. He needs to be kept in a padded cell with a mirror so he can preen and yell at it, not get his own brand new show. This world is messed up!!
She chuckled. “I don’t like him either, but his whole ‘winning!’ thing is hilarious. And about that song…”
“No we’re not listening to it again!”
She frowned at me. “Good grief, be patient woman.” The minivan pulled away and Scarlett pulled up to the window. I took one glance up and about died. Scarlett didn’t notice my OH-FUCK face and kept talking. “Yes, we are going– ” I dived forward in the seat, head on my knees. Scarlett stopped mid sentence and went quiet.
“Um, Clarisse–”
“Shh! I’m not here!” Oh good God, make me invisible, make me invisible!!
“What are you talking about? Why are you hiding?”
I peeked through my arm and saw that the drive through window was empty for now. Oh thank you Jeezus Lord and Savior!! “OhmyGod Scarlett, it’s She-Man–”
“What? What are you talking about? That’s wasn’t Flora –”
“No!” I hissed, fumbling with the hood on my sweatshirt and then jerking it over my frizzball of hair. “It’s She-Man! One of her cronies! She can’t see me!” Then I ducked my head again. Oh fuck fuck fuck. I’d thought it was a man’s meaty hands and arms handing out food to the minivan, but it was She-Man! She hadn’t even glanced into the passenger side of Scarlett’s car, which was luck on my part.
“Clarisse, I really doubt –”
“Shhh! This is fucking code PAH! For Panic And Hide! Which I’m doing so just go be normal while I take cover!! I’m going stealth mode!!”
I could see movement in the window suddenly, so I ducked down quickly, smushing my nose to my knees. She-Man’s familiar voice reached my ears, bored and monotonous. “One Meat and Potato Burrito, with Chur…ros…and…and one Coke and Fanta…” That little hesitation in She-Man’s read-off of the food made my heart start doing double time. She must have finally noticed me ducking in the passenger seat. Did she know me?!
“Thanks!” Was Scarlett’s normal and friendly response. I could hear her muddle around through her purse. “Here,” She must have given She-Man the money.
There was a slight pause, and in that time of at least twenty seconds, I was imagining She-Man texting Flora. Then Flora would show up. Then Flora would throw open the passenger door, grab me as I scream for my life, and then chuck me into oncoming traffic, laughing whilst I’m splattered on the windshield of a semi. Then she’d make a blood angel in my blood.
I’m nearly hyperventilating when I hear She-Man’s voice again.
“Your change is six fifty-three. Thanks for stopping Taco Johns.”
“Thanks! Bye!”
I feel the Civic cruise forward and hear her click the blinker on. We turn right. It’s silent other than the soft babble coming from the commercials on the radio and the sound of the engine. We stop for what I imagine is a stop sign.
“Clarisse? You can…unstealth mode now.”
I slowly rise up from my cover position, peering around me, looking to see if Flora was crushing through all the traffic like a non-green female Hulk. Cost was clear. I let out a sigh of relief and sunk back into the seat.
We were actually at a stop light, and the light went from red to green. Scarlett gently hit the accelerator, but was still watching me. I rubbed my face. “Sorry about that…Um…She-Man and I…yeah…um…there’s a bit of a story to go with that one too.”
Scarlett sighed, shaking her head. “Ok haha. But here,” She handed me my Fanta. “Drink this. You look like you’re about to die.”
“I almost did,” I said, grabbing the drink and then chugging it. My heart rate slowly relaxed as I sipped. Thank god for Fanta. I sat up in my seat and then took another sip before I spoke to Scarlett. “Alrighty, I’ll get on and explain my little deal with She-Man –”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Scarlett interrupted, giving me a slight grin. “We can talk about that in a little bit, but before your little freak-out session” I frowned and she laughed “I was going to show you something, so here,” She handed me her iphone.
Blinking, I cupped the magnificent piece of technology in my hands.
“I know its pretty Clarisse, but please don’t kiss my phone,” She laughed.
I snorted but was too enthralled to be insulted. So beautiful and technologically in sync with the times… If Scarlett hadn’t told me not to, I seriously might have smooched the thing.
“Ok, unlock it, then go to internet…”
Scarlett saw the utterly baffled look on my face and laughed and sighed at the same time. “You have no idea how to run it do you?”
I frowned but nodded. “Notta clue.”
She laughed.
Scarlett coached me on how run the phone, and I eventually got to internet, where she had me go to youtube. Then hade me type in ‘harvard baseball 2012 call me maybe cover’. Then pick that exact video, and then I was instructed to watch it.
When the familiarly annoying song began, I groaned and nearly shut it off, but Scarlett yelled at me and told me to keep watching. At first I did so begrudgingly.
I mean, what’s so cool about some guy staring at the other sleeping dude and mouthing the words? Then BAM another guy popped up and they began this actually pretty cool dance. I’ll admit I laughed and giggled every time more would pop up to dance. I also admit that I drooled when the middle guy did his lip syncing, because he’s pretty hot. I laughed some more when the rest showed up, and even snorted when the last guy to lip sync got so into his singing and winked.
After I’d watched it for the third time, Scarlett started laughing at me. “Pretty good isn’t it?”
I chuckled and sat back in the seat, still playing the video. “I will admit, it’s actually damn funny. And these guys being genius’s from Harvard makes it all the better.” I mean seriously, it’s Harvard. My dream school bitches.
Scarlett laughed at me. I pouted as I gave her phone back to her, and then she gave me a little grin. “Okay, now what’s this whole ordeal with ‘She-Man’?”
I growled out a sigh at the memory. Then began.
-
“Holy fuck.”
Scarlett laughed at my reaction as she pulled the Civic into a parking space and turned it off.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, eyes peeled back wide as I gazed unblinkingly at the utterly massive stadium towering before us. Jeezus Christ, this is a high school football game, not the freaking Super Bowl (and fuck yes I do know what the fuck the Super Bowl is!!). “This is highschool, not NFL,” I mumbled as I stepped out of the car. I surveyed the huge parking lot, nearly full. “There’s so many people here, and everything’s so nice and…snooty looking.”
“O’Bruman’s a private Catholic school.” Scarlett explained as she grabbed the blanket from the back seat.
“O’Bruman doesn’t sound very Catholic to me. Shouldn’t it be named something like ‘St. Josephine’s’ or something?”
“Usually they are, but the school was named after some father from the nearby Catholic church. I think his name was Gary O’Bruman. Made ‘O’Bruman Catholic School’ in the eighties after he died. Or something.”
We started our walk up to the massive thing. I couldn’t get over how big the damn thing was. “Good Lord. So because it’s a private Catholic school they get a massive Stadium?”
Scarlett chuckled at me. Probably at my lack of knowledge on all these kinds of things. I frowned but kept my harsh words to myself. I suppose it’s my fault I hadn’t been social these last couple of years. If I had I might have known all this stuff. All well.
“No,” Scarlett said. “Well, yes, but it’s not just ‘cause they’re Catholic. It’s because they’re a private school. Parents have to pay for their kids’ tuition to get in, so the school has more money for all this fancy stuff.”
“Oh.” I said.
“Yeah,” Then we made our way up to the massive thing. We entered the doors with several other people, whom were all geared up in blue and black and gold. Shuffling closer to Scarlett, I murmured, “From the other team obviously?”
The girl wearing the metallic gold spandex heard me whispering and peeked back over her shoulder. There was a sword tattoo tattooed onto her cheek. Scarlett whispered back, “Yeah,”
I studied all of them quickly. All three of the girls were wearing spandex. Jeesh. They all had on black t-shirts with a number and name painted on the back, and all were wearing spandex, one wearing blue, one wearing gold (like I mentioned before) and one wearing black. With their backs to me, I couldn’t see what their mascots were.
I nudged Scarlett and she leaned back to me. “What’s their mascot? A sword?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Knights.”
Ahhh. That’s what the sword was for. After we paid (five bucks! Ridiculous!) we entered into a short little entryway, opening out into what I knew would be the stadium where we were find our seats. But I got sidetracked by a poster hung up on the wall.
In blue and yellow lettering, it proclaimed: ‘Knights for Victory!!’ in blocky, somewhat decent written words. The rest continued to show a tan-darkened, peg-legged pirate in a red shirt hobbling away from an armor-clad knight sitting on the back of a white, rearing horse, the knight thrusting his sword into the air, a smile on his face. I’ll admit, I was somewhat impressed by the details on the poster.
Scarlett stepped up beside me. “That’s pretty good.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’d say better than ours, but I never pay attention if we have posters up anyway. So…I wouldn’t know.”
She chuckled. “Ours are ok. O’Bruman’s got a kickass art program.”
“How do you know?”
“Friend from school in art says so. She’s so jealous of how good it is she’s considered transferring, but couldn’t pay for it.”
That distracted me and made me feel a slight little pinch in my stomach. I’d completely forgotten that Scarlett had other friends. I’d been so wrapped up in my own troubles, I hadn’t realized Scarlett’s been sacrificing time with me rather than with her probably nicer, more normal friends. I swallowed back the angry, guilty lump in my throat. I’d talk to her about it later.
Scarlett looped her arm suddenly through mine and pulled me towards the entrance, dragging me from the pretty poster and my selfish, guilty musings. She tugged me out into the open, and I was dazzled by lights and then stunned by how massive the fucking stadium was from inside. I mean, there’s tons of people here!!
She continued towing me on the front walkway, between the first row of bleachers and the fencing that kept people from getting onto the field. We went half way around the field when she finally turned and started tugging me up the stairs, up past people. “Where the hell are were sitting?”
She gestured up ahead, where I could see all kinds of kids our age were packed into a section of bleachers. “Student section.” She said, and then she waved at some people who called her name. Another knot pinched my stomach, this one nervous. Crap, none of these kids were gonna want to sit near me. They’re gonna think that one wrong word will set me off and I’ll strangle them all.
Sad fact is that that might be true…
We reached the people who Scarlett knew, and a girl reached over and moved some coats from two seats. Scarlett smiled. “You remembered to save our seats!” Scarlett sat down on the seat next to the girl and then patted the outside seat and looked expectantly at me. I mechanically sat down.
This chick had actually saved a seat for me?
“Alrighty, Clarisse,” Scarlett said, “This is Farida Sharma,” She gestured to the girl who had saved our seats. Farida gave me a kind smile, her white teeth bright against her dark skin and hair. She popped her hand out to shake mine. “Nice to meet ya Clarisse,” She said, and I could see that she recognized me, probably as the Sebastian Slapper, but didn’t appear afraid of me. Brave girl. I liked that.
“Next is Quenby Fischer,” Scarlett pointed to a tall(I could tell that even though she was sitting), powerful looking girl with deep blonde hair and fierce blue eyes beside Farida. Her body screamed ‘ATHLETIC’, with thick strong legs (exposed by short red cotton shorts) and broad shoulders and her piercing gaze. Her name sounded familiar too. Her eyes met mine unflinchingly. “Hey there, Clarisse,”
I nodded in response.
“And last but not least is Ashleigh Wool,” Scarlett said, pointing to the girl who was minimized by sitting next to Quenby. Her hair was short and platinum blonde, her face a sweet little circle. But Ashleigh looked at me like I was holding an axe over her head. I tried to smile but it didn’t change her expression and she just nodded at me.
“Ok! Now everyone’s introduced, and we can sit back and enjoy the game!” Scarlett said.
And we did. It took me awhile to become comfortable at first with Scarlett’s friends. Farida was by far the nicest. She would ask me questions and include me in conversations, making an effort to be kind. The fact that everyone else thought I was deranged didn’t stop her from treating me no differently than Scarlett.
Quenby and Ashleigh were different stories.
Ashleigh would speak but appeared utterly terrified if I so mush as looked at her. Quenby was harder to read. She’d talk to me and look at me, but her fierce gray-blue eyes seemed to stab into my gaze, as if she was trying to get some kind of message across. That wasn’t friendly.
Apart from Ashleigh’s terror and Quenby’s intensity, Farida, Scarlett and I had a great time.
And the game was actually fun to watch.
I quickly learned Sebastian’s number, 54, and tried to watch him as much as I could. I struggled to find him in the mess of white jerseys and blue jerseys, but succeeded often. And then was disappointed.
Sebastian was good. Great. Even a football-clueless nerd like me could tell that.
Our team had lost the coin toss, so the Knights had started off with the ball first. I watched intensely, waiting for Sebastian to mess up. I’d asked Scarlett earlier what the name of the guy that would supposedly be kicking Sebastian’s ass tonight.
“Jeremy Mullon,”
“Great,” I grinned. “I hope he tackles Sebastian into the grass!”
Scarlett laughed out loud. “Ohmygosh, you know nothing.”
I frowned at her. “Ok,” She said, and then pointed out onto the field. She continued to speak in a voice like I was a five-year-old. “You see number 61? That’s Jeremy. He’s the other team’s halfback. He doesn’t tackle. He usually is a ball carrier and sometimes helps block and defend other ball carriers. He plays offense. He won’t be tackling Sebastian.”
What?! The fuck is this? She told me this kid would be whooping Sebastian cocky keister!! “The hell Scarlett! You said he’d kick Sebastian’s ass!” This is a fucking waste of time to be here if I can’t watch Sebastian eat some turf!
“Don’t worry,” She said, patting my back. “He’s a really good halfback, and if he’s good enough, he’ll be avoiding Sebastian’s tackles and making him look like an idiot. Will that work?”
Not like watching him get crushed would. “Fine.” I grumbled.
The game continued on, and I kept watching and waiting for Sebastian to mess up and miss Jeremy. The only thing I could do was watch numbers 61 and 54, hoping they’d cross paths. They hadn’t yet. But all I could really do was watch how good Sebastian was.
He’d already made two tackles on the other team’s running back (Scarlett told me), and assisted on the third. The other team had one more chance to get the ball to fourth down (don’t really know what that means either) before the ball would be given to our team. Meaning Sebastian wouldn’t be playing, because he’s on defense. And I want him to play, so he can screw up.
The Knights’ quarterback was given the ball and backing up, and I could already see where he was looking. Far out in the middle of the field was an open player, in a position where he could easily dodge any defenders. The quarterback drew his arm back–
Whack. The quarterback was taken down. A white and red clad player had slunk through his blockers and blindsided him, taking him to the turf with a brain-rattling tackle.
The announcer was shouting over the ‘ooos’ from the crowd, and I realized who’d just made that vicious play. “Yowza!! Knight’s quarterback Philip Hartford’ll feeling that one tomorrow! Probably even next week! That spectacular tackle was made by the Pirates’ rising defensive star, Sebastian MacCrain!”
I wanted to break something.
Philip Hartford sat up, seeming to be in a daze, as Sebastian and some other idiotic buffoon chest bumped triumphantly. Son of a fucking biscuit.
The game continued on like this.
Whenever our defense was on the field, Sebastian dominated, making tackles, chasing the ball-carrier into someone else who’d tackle him, breaking through the line and chasing Philip Hartford around, who frankly looked like a headless chicken when he was running for his life. Jeremy Mullon was good, but Sebastian was good too (dammit), and Jeremy would do his best at fighting through Sebastian’s tackles. But he’d still get tackled.
I had my chin cupped in my hands when I started to feel something start buzzing.
“Crap crap crap…” Who in the hell would be calling me now? This is ridiculous! I fished my phone out from my purse and debated throwing the phone down the bleachers when I read the Caller ID. ‘Home’.
Standing up, grumbling, I said to Scarlett over the racket of the crowd, “I’ll be back,” And then flashed her my buzzing phone so she knew why. She nodded.
I sprinted down the steps and back into the little under area behind the bleachers, and answered just before it went to Voicemail. It was my Dad. He asked how the game was going.
“It’s good.” Not. Sebastian’s being a fucking beast out there.
“That’s great!” Dad was enthusiastic. He then proceeded to tell me that him and Mom had to leave tonight. Gram had had a heart attack.
“What?!” I gasped at his nonchalance. I may be a heartless bitch sometimes, but don’t fuck around with Gram.
“Oh don’t worry,” Dad said, sounding cheery, “It was a small one, and she’d gotten to the hospital alright. Gramps just wants us to stop in and see her, so we won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. Ok?”
I nearly dropped the phone.
My parents were going to leave me home, alone?
I was just about to start freaking out and screaming ‘apocalypse!’ but I heard Dad again. “Clarisse? That ok?”
I sucked back my terror and shock and forced myself to respond. “Y-Yeah,” I croaked. I could almost hear him smiling. “Ok! We’ll call you in the morning!”
Just before he hung up I could hear Mom in the background, demanding the phone so she could talk to me. Then ‘click’.
The fuck just happened?! I wondered, staring at my phone. Was that really my Dad? Or some crazy serial kill pretending to be? That way he could kill my parents slowly and then take them away, and when I got home I wouldn’t notice? Or zombies? It’s got to be zombies. People start acting funny before they start dining on each other, don’t they? Or the FBI?! What if–
“Excuse me!” Someone tapped my shoulder and I jerked out of my panicked thoughts of why my Dad was being so nice and my parents were going to leave me home alone. I turned to see some guy carrying a roll of tickets and an icecream pail.
“Hi?” The fuck?
“You want a ticket?” He asked, shoving the roll at me.
A ticket? Didn’t I already pay to get in? Did I need a ticket? “What?”
The kid frowned impatiently at me, scratching at a pimple by his ear. Ew. He shook the roll of tickets again, then the icecream pail, which had some words on it. I tried to read the words but he was too fast and shook the tickets at me again. “So? Do you?”
I’m in a panicked mess over what alien’s abducted my parents, and he wants to screw around like this? “You just–”
“Yeah, here,” Came a voice behind me, and I jumped.
A long arm brushed right past my ear and handed the kid about two dollars. The kid took the money and started painstakingly ripping two tickets free from the roll. I turned around and then nearly died.
Abel Harkin was standing right beside me, wearing a black muscle shirt that was show-casing allll the right muscles. A red bandana was tied over his dark curls that spill out anyway, and he had an eye patch resting right above his right eye, where he must of moved it when he got sick of only using one eye.
I could only gape up at him like a frightened fish. Damn. I think the room just went up fifty degrees.
Realizing how close he was to me, I took a baffled step backward, but was unable to tear my eyes away. How the fuck do you look away from that level of smexiness? The kid handed Abel two tickets back and then dashed off. Then Abel held one of the tickets out to me.
“Here,” He said.
I blinked down at the pale red ticket with a smattering of numbers on it. “What is it?” I sputtered.
Abel frowned at me, reached out and grabbed my hand, and then placed the ticket in it. I don’t think he realized that he’d just made me nearly start hyperventilating, but that’s probably a good thing. To keep from ogling him and more, I studied to ticket.
“You still don’t know what it is, do you?” He said, a sliver of amusement coloring his tone. So far he’d been politely detached.
I frowned but shook my head.
He stepped up closer to me. I backed up a step, wondering what in sam hill he’s doing. Abel frowned and then closed in on me, grabbing the hand that was clutching the ticket. It felt like the sun itself was clasping my fist, and my face turned red as his bandana.
He pointed at the ticket with a massive hand. “You see these numbers? These are the only numbers like this on any ticket. Same goes for all the other tickets. Later on in the game they’ll announce the winning ticket and whoever has it gets a prize.” Abel had talked to me like I was a two-year-old.
“Oh,” I growled, snatching my hand away, trying to turn away from him so he didn’t see my tomato face. My damn nerves are doing it again, like when Sebastian had cornered me in my own chair at lunch that time. I couldn’t move away. All of my rage was trapped inside because I was practically having a panic attack with this level of hotness standing an inch away.
I noticed now that Abel was looking somewhat intently at my face, and this made my blush deepen even more. I noticed a little twitch in his eyebrow like he was confused. Oh fuck fuck fuck. He’s finally noticed that my face is redder than hell right now.
“So what do you want?” I managed to snarl, hoping he’d get the message and leave me alone. This is embarrassing!! As hell!!
He frowned at me, still studying my face. “Well I walked down here and saw you staring at your phone like you didn’t know what it was. Then that ticket kid was talking to you, and you looked like you were about to knock out his teeth so I figured I’d save his life.”
I could only blink at Abel. “’Save his life’?! That’s bullshit! I was just gonna tell him to fuck off!”
Abel snorted, crossing his massive arms over his chest. I attempted but failed at trying not to look at them. Fuck his hotness! “Yeah, with your fist.”
“Oh shut up, I was not!” I seriously wasn’t! If the kid had kept shaking that damn ticket roll at me, I might have, but the thought hadn’t occurred to me yet!!
“You would have ended up clobbering the crap out of him and you know it.”
I couldn’t exactly deny that one. Fuck. “Just shut up!”
Abel leaned down closer to me, a pompous frown on his face. “You gonna make me shut up then?”
What the fuck is up with guys and asking that?! Sebastian always says that, and it’s annoying as hell!! “Good God, just go away!!” I snarled, finally angry enough to step away from him, but he just followed me. “If you came to bitch at me about Flora it’s pointless!!”
Abel’s face went dark with fury, and my heart did a panicked little flutter. He stepped closer and loomed over me. Crap crap crap crap. Isn’t there something like a mall cop here? Help!
“I wasn’t even gonna bring Flora up,” Abel’s voice was dark and ominous. I could finally make the connection on how Flora and him were related. They can both make you shit a brick. “I honestly wasn’t. Not that there’s much to say since you’ve finally seemed to have gotten it through your thick little skull to leave her alone.”
It felt like a stick of dynamite had just gone off in me. “What?!”
Abel’s eyes narrowed at the ferocity in my voice.
“That is all crap.” I snarled, just barely containing my rage.
“The only reason,” I began to say, my voice dark and slowly rising. “that nothing has happened recently in this whole little pile of shit going on with Flora, is because I’ve been avoiding her all this time!!”
I hadn’t realized I’d leaned forward to yell at him, but I had, and Abel was now tilted back a ways, eyes widened in outrage. He opened his mouth to say something but I butted in, still pissed of as fuck.
“You don’t know crap about your cousin! You really don’t! She is a mean, scary as fuck, insane chick, who is out to get me just because I accidentally tripped her in the first place! She was after me! I didn’t mean to give her that fucking massive welt on her head, I was trying to fucking survive! And she’s been chasing me around to get me!”
Huffing out a final breath, I stepped back and crossed my arms over my chest. Better have figured it out and crap that ass.
Abel blinked at me. His eyebrows were all screwed together like he was thinking hard. Then his mouth set stubbornly and I wanted to punch something. “Bull. Shit.”
“Argghh!” I shouted, rubbing at my eyes. God!!! He’s such an idiot!! Pure idiocy runs in his brains!!! “I really want to slap you right now!!”
He glared at me. “Of course you would. You slap everyone.”
My returning glower was black. “Only one person.”
“Multiple times.”
“Because he’s an asshole and deserves it.”
“So I’m an asshole?”
I rubbed my temples frantically. “No, you’re just an idiotic moron who’s thinking with his asshole.”
Abel then does his domineering stance, hands hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. “Ok. Whatever.”
God. This is annoying. As fuck. I’m never gonna get this through his head am I? He’s just too busy being a fucking stubborn moron that he can’t see the truth when it’s right in front of him. ‘Cause he’s stupid. Through frustration I wondered what time it was and how much of the game I’d missed.
“I’m leaving.” I turned on my heel to walk away.
“Wait,” A heavy hand tugged me back by the shoulder and I whipped around to stare into dark dark eyes. My face flamed up again, and my brained stupidly tried to decide whether his eyes were the darkest shade of brown or rich black. Abel’s glorious face was only inches from my tomato red one, and my heart started hammering a mile a minute.
His expression was frustrated. He seemed to be battling with his temper like I’d seem him do before, because he was breathing deeply. It sent spearmint smelling breath over my face and further disoriented me.
Appearing to force himself to speak calmly, he asked, “How…How do I know you aren’t lying?”
Abel being so ridiculously close to me, his face inches away, his dark eyes mesmerizing, his heavy hand still on my shoulder, my heart thundering against my ribs, anger and panic swirling in my brain; this all made it astoundingly difficult to process anything right now.
He didn’t seem realize that was why I was staring at him like an imbecile, and merely asked another question.
“What if…” Abel closed his eyes and growled out a sigh. His dark eyes were annoyed when he opened them. “What if I’m gonna try and believe you?”
His words made it through all the mess of my brain, but I still couldn’t process right. “What?” I said dumbly.
He groaned and then glowered at me. This expression registered and immediately made me angry back, which helped clear out all the other crap lodging up my thought processes. Abel tried again. “What if I try to believe all that you’ve been telling me? About Flora…being to one going after you? Do you have any proof?”
My brain put together what he’d said and then I was dumbfounded again. He’s willing…believe me? He’s gonna try and understand?? Sweet Jeezus!! This fucking is the apocalypse!! “What?” I sputtered.
Abel growled and put his other hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face him head on and totally muddling me up again. My face was burning bright as hell right now, and I had this God awful feeling that Abel was actually noticing it now as he gazed at me curiously.
“Do you have any proof that Flora was the one going after you?” Abel repeated, still looking at me inquiringly. I forced the thought to go into my brain and worked it out. Ok. This is good. Isn’t it? Its just that…is there any proof? What kind of proof? Like a bruise? Not good, because Flora was the only one who came out injured in our scuffle. What else is proof? Like a picture? Or a video–
“Oh yeah!” I exclaimed and Abel jumped a little at my out burst. “I do! I mean, well, I don’t, but I can get it! I promise!” Sebastian had a video! The one he’d showed of me running from Flora! It wasn’t the whole fight but it’d have to work, because it in I’m not trying to hit her or anything.
“Ok, so I’ll get it to you…sometime.” I said, already trying to imagine getting the video from Sebastian. That one isn’t gonna go easy. Crap…
As I stand there, debating how I’ll get the video, I remember that Abel Harkin is still standing realllly close to me, his hand still on my shoulders. Feeling their heavy warm weight makes my face start burning up again in a flash.
“O-Ok…” I mutter as I step back, away from Abel and all his close proximity. His face was curious again as he studied my red skin. His eyes narrowed a little bit and he stepped closer to me. My face in reaction naturally burned darker, the color spreading to my ears.
“Well…I…I’m gonna go.” I muttered, trying to step away. His eyes had this inquisitive glint in them. He deliberately reached out and grabbed my shoulder in his big hand again, and this time his eyes were measuring my reaction. I could swear a hint of humor hit his eyes when my face got even darker.
“When are you gonna show me?” Abel asked, his voice seeming a little lighter, like he was amused with something. The slightest of smiles hovered on his lips, and it was sexy has hell. Which naturally embarrassed me more.
“I dunno…soon…” I forcibly pulled myself away from him, getting angry. He sees how he affects me the bastard! Probably thinks I have a crush on him! Gah!! I turned away, almost wanting to run.
“Ok. Bye Clarisse.” I heard him call after me, and I could swear he was almost laughing. Stupid bastard!
--
When I returned to Scarlett, she gave me this look that meant she was dying to know what had kept me so long. I sat down beside her and she leaned sideways without a word, just waiting for me to explain.
Feeling exhausted and not in the mood to go into this whole shpeal about Abel, I told her most of the truth. “My Dad called. Gram had a heart attack.”
Scarlett gasped and gave me this look of complete concern that nearly melted your heart. Kind hearted little idiot makes me feel like Satan. “Ohmygosh! I’m so sorry! What happened?!”
I explained that it wasn’t bad but that my parents had gone to the hospital to see her and wouldn’t be back til tomorrow. Scarlett asked if I wanted to stay at her house. That nearly knocked me from my seat. So nice! But I shouldn’t, I tell myself. My parents would kill me and think I’ve become an even bigger rebel. I told her thanks, but no, I’d be fine.
The game was almost to half time, and it was still scoreless. Scarlett told me I hadn’t missed much. Sebastian was still dominating. I frowned.
Suddenly, gasps filled the stadium and I stood up to look over the people ahead of me who’d stood up. Someone had gotten hurt. An O’Bruman player was laying out flat on the field, and one of our players was sitting down not to far away, clutching his helmet.
Please be Sebastian, Please be Sebastian…But it wasn’t. Dammit.
A lineman (Scarlett’s terms) from our team and a lineman from the other team had just conked helmets and both had to be taken from the field. There was a pause in the game. The announcer came on and started blabbing.
As I was still fuming over the fact that Sebastian wasn’t the one lying in a stretcher, I didn’t get what Scarlett was doing when she started shaking my arm. “What? What?”
“Do you have a ticket?!”
I raised my arm and realized I still had the ticket that Abel had bought me clenched in my fist. My face darkened a shade and I did my best to hide it. “Yeah. What about it?”
“They’re announcing tickets!”
I listened to the announcer. “…and we’ll do this now as everyone’ll probably disappear at half time. Ok, the ticket winner from the Knight’s crowd wins a Knight’s Helmet Hat, and the winner from the Pirate’s crowds wins a Pirates t-shirt. Ok! For the Knights, the winning ticket is…1,0,8,5,4,8!”
Across the stadium there was a ruckus and some guy started jumping around. His excited face was displayed on the big screen I’d never noticed before.
“Alrighty! Now for the Pirates! The winning ticket is…5,3,0,0,1,6!”
There was silence and we waited for the winner to start screaming, and then suddenly Scarlett was gripping my arm. “Clarisse! You won!”
“What?!” I gasped. No shit!!
Scarlett started jumping up and down and pointing at me, and so did Farida and then all of the people within a ten foot radius was to. I watched as my utterly baffled, tomato red face was put up on screen.
Through all of the madness one aggravatingly familiar guffaw reached my ears, and I zeroed in on it on the field.
Sebastian was sitting on the turf on the sidelines, nearly splitting his sides with laughter.
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