Read High School Football – The Temptation (first in the high school series) Page 11


  He sighed and moved his foot. The pain was still there, but the Tylenol had knocked it down to a level that he could deal with. He pushed one pillow to the side of the bed, pulled the other under his head, and turned onto his side.

  * * *

  “Justin! Open up!”

  Justin’s head snapped up.

  “Jus-s-t-i-i-n-n! You deaf in there? It’s eleven o’clock already.”

  He groaned and turned over, being careful not to jar the ankle. “What do you want now?”

  The door slammed open, and Sharice stomped into the room. He sat up and pulled a pillow out part way. “How’d you like to be asleep for awhile, little sister? Maybe see some nice stars, too?”

  “Oh, Justin, don’t be so silly. I just wanted to ask you something.” She plopped herself down on the end of his bed and sat cross-legged. “You know some white boy with long, greasy black hair? Drives an old two-door green car?”

  “Uh … sounds like Tony. The one I told you about last night.”

  “Well, he yelled something at me as he was driving by while I was getting the mail just a few minute ago. I don’t know what his problem is, but I heard him yell your name. I just ignored him, though, and he drove away.”

  Justin felt a chill go down his spine, but he knew he didn’t want to worry Sharice. “Well, if he yells at you again, let me know. I’ll have a little talk with him. Tell him to quit scaring my little sister.”

  “Only thing that scared me was his face. I hope he’s no friend of yours, Justin.”

  “Hardly. You be careful around him, though.”

  “You got it. And he’ll get a rock bounced off his head if he tries to get out of that piece of junk around me.”

  Justin grimaced but didn’t reply.

  “Oh, and you know the new football coach? T. J.’s brother? Well, his son’s in my home room and English and science classes; his name’s Sammy! And he’s cu-u-te!”

  Justin sighed and rubbed his eyes. Sharice had trouble making new friends, he knew, and she seemed to spend more time sending e-mails to her old ones in Topeka than in getting to know new ones in Niotaka. The many times she’d come home silent with him in the car told him that someone else had set her straight that day and hushed her up for a few minutes, so even news about consorting with the enemy, so to speak, wasn’t necessarily bad news.

  “So. When you two getting married?”

  Sharice guffawed and rolled off the bed with a resounding thump on the floor. “Ow! That hurt! She emerged rubbing the back of her head.

  “Yeah, and it’s gonna cost you big time to get the floor fixed, too, Hardhead.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared, and she grabbed a pillow and swung it at Justin, who leaned sideways so that she missed him.

  “Oh, so it’s on, now!” Justin stood up, picked up another pillow and smacked her before she could recover. Her eyes widened, and she cocked her arm to take another swing.

  “Sharice! I could use a little help down here with the potatoes!” Their mother’s floated up the stairway.

  “Yep, get in that wifey practice stuff now while you can,” Justin said as he dropped the pillow on the bed.

  Her pillow caught him square in the face.

  “Well, I bet I can make a better meal than LaToy-y-ya!”

  He’d almost forgotten about her. Oops! And Ranaé hadn’t said anything either the past few days; come to think of it, he hadn’t even seen Ranaé without seeing T. J. at the same time all this week.

  “So get a move on, why don’t you?” He yawned and stretched. “And the bathroom’s mine.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Her footsteps thundered down the stairs, and he swung out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Another Tylenol might be in order, for both the ankle and to help him deal with Sharice, he decided.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Justin’s ankle was still heavily taped, and he rubbed it, annoyed, against the seat support. He’d caught Coach Greene in the gym before school and announced that he was through with football, but Coach had talked him into riding the team bus to the next Friday-night game and even sitting with the team on the field.

  “You’ve been a good influence, Justin. And if you walked away now, there’s a good chance that you wouldn’t be the only one. I’m not going to make you suit up. I know that ankle needs to heal so you’ll have a chance to play basketball. Just stick it out for a couple more game. Okay?”

  He’d pulled a sophomore off the JV squad to replace him, but a lot of good it did. The kid came out limping in the second quarter and went in only a couple times more, including at the end of the third quarter when the 56-12 score on the clock confirmed that once again Niotaka had a losing season and the scrubs might as well get some playing time. Of course, the 66-12 score that remained in large, orange characters on the scoreboard after the final horn sounded was somewhat less than inspiring, and except for several players in the back talking softly, the bus was very quite on the way back home.

  Justin had noticed that although T. J.’s brother wasn’t actually a part of the coaching staff, yet, his and Coach Greene’s heads were still close together before key plays. Two games to go, and already he’d just about turned over the reins to the ghetto coach from L. A., Justin thought.

  The crowd that greeted them as they pulled to a stop behind the school building was smaller than usual, and Justin realized that Sharice was one of the dozen or so younger kids milling around the back entrance. The dark-faced boy in the Rams jacket next to her must be Sammy, he decided.

  She pretended not to notice him as he stepped carefully off the bus, but she didn’t try to hide as he moved in her direction.

  “All right, Shar. You ready to go home?”

  “Oh, hi, Justin. This is Sammy.”

  Justin nodded vaguely at Sammy, who was backing away, wide-eyed, in the general direction of the bus, where his father was still unloading equipment, and he firmly took Shar by the elbow.

  “Hot date, tonight, little sister?”

  “Well … uh … I just thought I’d wait for you, Justin.”

  “I’m sure. You’re so kind. First time for everything. And I suppose our mother knows you’re here?”

  “Ah … well … I sort of walked this way from … ah … Ana’s house … we were thinking about having a slumber party … “

  Justin nodded slowly. “Well, never mind. I suppose you’d want me to drop you off at this Ana’s house now?”

  Sharice didn’t look up. “No, Justin. I guess I’d rather go home. It wasn’t all that good of a slumber party, anyway.”

  “Yeah, I can see that you weren’t getting much sleep, huh?”

  “No-o-o. Justin, he asked me out next week!”

  “And you said …?” Justin let go of her elbow to unlock the passenger-side door on his car.

  She put her hands on her hips and wagged her head. “I said, ’Maybe. What kind of girl do you think I am, Sammy?’”

  “Well, I think you and Mom are going to have a nice talk tomorrow evening, right? You’re supposed to baby-sit most of the day?”

  “Oh, Justin, he’s so fine!”

  “Well, you and Mom can talk about Mr. So Fine while I’m in Pittsburg. I don’t want to have anything to do with … “ He stopped short and walked around the car, opened his door, sat down, and snapped on the ignition. “Never mind, Shar. You work this one out. And if Mom asks any questions about where I found you, you just showed up to get a ride. Period.”

  “Justin, is there anything wrong? Besides … “

  “Besides your sneaking out after hours? No … well … I just don’t trust anyone connected with T. J. Just watch your back, okay?”

  Sharice didn’t answer but folded her arms and stared straight ahead through the windshield.

  He glanced at Sharice. “After that sorry game, I need something to eat. Why don’t we get a bite at the Quick-Shop on the way, unless you think Mom is waiting up with some chocolate cake and cookies and milk?”

  Sh
e uncrossed her arms and giggled. “Dream on. She was on her way to bed when I told her that I was going over to Ana’s. Yeah. I suppose. You buyin’?”

  “Sure. Just keep it reasonable.”

  The cashier was stocking the shelves in the center of the store and glanced at them as they entered. Sharice immediately went to the back and pulled a can of Dr. Pepper from the cooler and then stood in front of a display of chips and finally pulled a bag from its holder. Justin wasn’t thirsty and decided that he definitely didn’t want anything salty; maybe just something chewy to get him by. The boxed candy display was directly in front of the cash register, and he glanced at the register, noticing that it was exactly the same as the ones in the Quick-Shops in Topeka. What was that special universal code to punch in when someone needed to open the cash drawer, like when someone asked for quarters for the air pump outside? He still had the number in his wallet …

  Sharice rounded the corner, followed by the cashier, and she slapped her can of soda and bag of corn chips on the corner and added another bag of peppermint candy. The cashier dropped a box on the floor, kicked it out of the aisle, and headed towards them.

  “That be it?” The cashier punched her code into the register, hit the cancel button, and punched it in again, not noticing Justin’s eyes following her fingers.

  Justin pulled a bag of Good and Plentys from the display and added it to the pile. “Um … that’s it.” He handed the cashier a ten, and she laid it to the side of the register and pulled the change out, not bothering to count it back.

  “Thanks. Have a good day.” The cashier looked past them to the back of the store and vacantly flipped at an eyelash with a long fingernail that had a fake diamond glued to it.

  The only sound in the car was munching from Sharice’s side of the front seat, and before Justin turned on the ignition, he flicked the end of the Good and Plenty box open and poured a small handful of the candies into his hand and dumped them into his mouth. Yummy. Why everyone else was stuck on that nasty, so-called red licorice was beyond him; he’d go for the real, black licorice every time, or at least Good and Plentys if he couldn’t find the long, black, ropy licorice.

  “So if Mom lets you go out on a date with Mr. Sammy, just where is it that you two are going in this town?”

  “He didn’t say. And who are you? My mother now?”

  Justin put the car into gear and backed into the street. “Something like that.” He thought of his father, considered his mother, and decided to say nothing. His mother was too-easily persuaded; he’d taken advantage of her easy-going nature a few times himself, and he knew that Sharice could do the same thing.

  “Well, lay off, why doncha? We’re probably just going to play some video games and hang out. I know better than to go where no one else is around. Give me some credit for good sense, willya?”

  Justin signaled right and then pulled into their driveway, leaving enough room so that their mother could get her car out, and shut the car off.

  “All right. Just be sure that you use that good sense all the time you’re out with Mr. So Fine. Don’t forget about using the word “no” when you need to. Okay?”

  Sharice rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll be fine. It’s not the first date I’ve gone out on.” She pulled open the door, slammed it, and ran up the sidewalk towards their front porch.

  He sighed, reached across the seat and pushed the lock stem down, and checked the other doors to make sure they were locked. Yeah, maybe he’d better lay off a little. After all, he wasn’t her parent. Sooner or later he wouldn’t be responsible for her at all, either.

  Chapter Twenty

  Saturday seemed to stretch on forever. Justin wandered out into the garage and opened a few boxes to see if he could find some photos that he’d been looking for since they’d moved, but the chilly autumn air drove him back inside. He tried to get into an old movie on television and fell asleep on the couch, waking up only after Sharice changed the channel on him and glared at him when he rolled over and reached for the remote.

  He took a longer shower than usual later in the afternoon and spent almost a half hour in his room examining his face with the help of a hand mirror, and he still had an hour left to kill before Ranaé and T. J. were due to pick him up. Sharice had disappeared, leaving the TV on to some cooking program, and the football game he tried to watch on was even more torture for him than the real thing the night before. He switched channels and watched some movie where the bad guy was holding a hostage in a convenience store until a police sharpshooter took him out. Justin shivered and changed channels to a "Three Stooges" episode. His mother was stretched out on the couch with an oversized paperback and pretended to read it, but before long Justin could hear regular breathing and an occasional snort. She was back to 35 hours a week now at work, although she’d been transferred to the warehouse, and Justin knew that although they needed the money, the added hours that she spent mostly on her feet tired her.

  Justin thumbed the remote so that Curley’s “nyuk-nyuks” wouldn’t disturb her. With Sharice gone to her babysitting job, it was up to him to at least give her a fighting chance to get some rest, too.

  * * *

  Sharice had yet to return home when Justin heard the soft toot from Ranaé’s car in the driveway. He gave his mother a peck on the cheek, and she opened one eye and waved him out the door. Ranaé and T. J. were in the front seat, with Ranaé behind the steering wheel, and T. J. leaned back and opened a rear door for him.

  “All right, T. J.” He nodded at Ranaé, and she flashed a toothy smile at him. “All ready for the big night of romance, Justin?”

  He pretended to smell an armpit and put his hand on the door handle. “Maybe not … “

  T. J. snorted and Ranaé giggled. “Too late, now, jungle boy. You’ll just have to go with the natural scent. LaToya just lo-oves the natural stuff, right, T. J.?”

  “Whatever.” T. J. punched the radio buttons until hip-hop emerged from the speakers. And for the rest of trip he kept his eyes closed and nodded to the music, only opening them to stare briefly through the windshield when Ranaé braked for a stop and at his cell phone when they got close to Pittsburg.

  * * *

  “Pull in here. She’s probably inside the front door. She gets off at seven on Saturdays, and we’re right on time.” T. J. sat up straight and looked around.

  Ranaé nosed the car into a strip mall parking lot and slowly drove past the line of stores, glancing in her rear-view mirror.

  “There she is. Pull over to the curb.”

  Justin pushed open his door and slid across the seat. This was definitely a low-budget date, he thought to himself.

  LaToya slammed the door behind her. “Hey, guys. You’re Justin?”

  “Uh, nice to meet … “

  “Pleasure. Keep movin’ this car, girl. I got a chocolate jones and I got me the fix right here.” She reached inside her coat and pulled out a handful of Hershey Bars, looking out the window before she handed them each one.

  “All right. Where did you get these?” T. J. pulled the wrapper off and tossed it out his window.

  “Same place I always do when I get the urge. Right next door to where I work. Them clowns don’t even know how to keep an eye on their inventory.” She unpeeled the candy bar and bit a third of it off. “Damn. That’s what I needed.”

  Ranaé dropped her bar on the seat next to her. “Uh, thanks. Maybe I’ll eat mine later. Her eyes met Justin’s in the rearview mirror, and he dropped his in his pocket. “Yeah, I just ate, too.” T. J. had already finished his.

  “All right. We got the crew, but we need some brew.” T. J. licked the last of the chocolate from his fingers. “Your friend still got the stuff?”

  LaToya dropped her wrapper on the floor. “That’s right, cuz. Just bear right; it’s past the next corner.”

  Her directions lead them to a long alley, and Justin thought that it was a little odd that T. J. directed Ranaé to turn off the headlights before they pulled
into a narrow driveway in front of a garage that sat sideways to the alley and parked next to a battered green Pontiac.

  He had to look twice before he recognized the dark figure that materialized from beside the garage and clasped T. J.’s hand when he opened his door. Suddenly, he knew where he’d seen the Pontiac before.

  “All right, T. J,” Tony muttered. He leaned inside the car. “Yo, Justin. How’s your pop?” He snickered and pulled the passenger door open. “You with us, ’Toya?”

  “Right behind you. Justin, you and Ranaé stay here. Hit the lights if … well, you know.” Ranaé gave her a puzzled look, but LaToya pushed the door shut carefully. It barely clicked. Justin realized that his hands were clenched into fists so tight that his fingernails were biting into his palms, and he unclenched them and slowly released his breath.

  The three stopped at the hedge and looked both ways into the dark yard as if they were crossing a busy street before stepping carefully forward.

  “Justin, I don’t think … “

  “Ranaé, what the hell have you gotten us into? You know what they’re doing?”

  “They’re just getting some beer; we don’t have to drink … “

  “Shut up! They’re not after booze. They’re going to knock off that house! Ranaé, start the car, and let’s get out of here. Now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ranaé turned and stared at Justin, her eyes widening. A tear trickled down her right cheek. Mechanically, she turned on the ignition, flipped the gearshift into reverse, and let the car roll backwards into the alley. She pulled the lever into drive and stepped on the brake.

  “Justin, what if we … “

  Tony’s face appeared at Justin’s window, and the door flew open. Tony reached for Justin’s throat, but he hit Tony between the eyes with two short left jabs, and Tony let go of the door but managed to stay on his feet. Ranaé screamed and floored the accelerator. The door banged shut with Tony still hanging onto the door handle, and Justin tripped the inside latch and pushed it open. He wasn’t sure of what Tony hit, but the door banged shut again, and Justin thought he saw a trash can rolling in the alley behind them and a figure careen off the side of the garage and fall to the ground before dust obscured his vision through the rear window.

  She didn’t even slow down for the street ahead and shot across it into the next alley. Justin clenched the seat in front of him and tried not to bang his head on the roof.