Read Southern Exposure Page 24


  Chapter 12

  I was early—the parking lot nearly empty—but as I backed into a spot facing the practice field, Jason's Jeep crested the hill. He pulled head first into the spot next to me, stopping short so we were door to door.

  "Well, good morning, stranger," he said.

  "Hi. I see you fixed your hair," I teased.

  "And look at you, my favorite band shirt." He hopped out of the Jeep and opened my door. "Ready?"

  Suddenly I was very much not ready. I hesitated before climbing out.

  "Come on, she's not going to bite."

  I smirked and climbed out. His gaze washed over me approvingly. I was a bit bemused. I mean seriously, I was just wearing a tee shirt and jeans.

  "Shall we?" He motioned toward the school.

  I scanned the empty lot. "Are you sure about this? What if—"

  "Come on, all we're going to do is apologize. It's not like we're going public."

  "But—" Where was all this apprehension coming from?

  "Come on. I don't know about you, but I was rude and I want to make it right."

  We walked side by side. I was grateful and disappointed he kept some distance between us. He'd obviously not forgotten about last night. I started to reach for his hand once, but thought better of it, and I kind of think he might have done the same. There was a slight breeze from my right and he was on my left, but I would lose that advantage when we went inside.

  Jason held the door for me, and before I knew it, we were outside Mrs. Snyder's classroom. He took a deep breath—I was already holding mine.

  "Okay," he started, "you want to go first or do you want me to?"

  "You go," I replied even though a faint bead of nervous sweat had already formed on the adolescent fuzz above his lip.

  "Okay. Here goes." He knocked and then opened the door. Before I realized it, and I don't think he realized it either, he took my hand and led me into the room. "Mrs. Snyder?"

  She looked up from behind her desk and her face flushed. "My goodness, what are the two of you doing here so early?"

  "We wanted to apologize for yesterday." Jason glanced over at me and then back to Mrs. Snyder. "We were both a bit overwhelmed and well, embarrassed. Isn't that right, Izzy?"

  My head was spinning from his touch, his warmth already radiating up my arm. I managed a nod of agreement.

  "Well," Jason continued, "we just wanted you to know we were sorry."

  "Thank you. I'll be more careful about these things in the future."

  I stumbled along behind him as he led me back toward the door. He stopped, then turned toward Mrs. Snyder. "You can display the pictures if you want."

  "Is that all right with you too, Izzy?" She checked.

  There would be consequences if she did—not so much for me, for Jason—but I couldn't concentrate, not while he was holding my hand. "Could you wait until next week?" I mumbled.

  "Not a problem. This is very gracious of you, and mature. It's not easy for an artist to share their talent. Thank you so much."

  Jason pulled me into the hall and closed the door behind us. We stood there for a moment, in the tiny alcove, staring into one another's eyes. Suddenly, Jason's expression changed and he looked down at our hands and then pulled his free.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't realize—God, what was I thinking? 'You can display the pictures if you want.' Ah, I'm such an idiot. I never thought about what you might want." He leaned forward against the wall next to me. "Nice catch though, in a week it'll be no big deal."

  "Are you sure? The other kids—"

  "I don't care what they think. I want to be with you." He reached up and gently traced my cheek with the back of his hand.

  Everywhere, everything was Jason. It was too much. I pressed back against the wall.

  Suddenly he jerked away. "I'm sorry. I can't think when I'm with you."

  "No, it's all right."

  "Really?"

  "Yes," I replied, but I could tell he saw the tremor in my smile.

  "I'll be more careful. I promise."

  "Uh, hum," A deep male voice cleared his throat. "Let's not have any of that."

  "Sorry Mr. Dent, we just stopped by to see Mrs. Snyder," Jason covered.

  "I'm sure," he replied, mistrust clearly evident in his tone. "The school's not open for another—" he glanced down at his watch, "ten minutes. Please wait out front with the other students."

  "Yes, sir." We both answered and started toward the front of the school.

  I stopped once we were around the corner out of Mr. Dent's sight. "I need to go to the front office."

  "You don't want to be seen with me, do you?"

  "It's not that. I don't want you to be seen with me."

  Jason squared his drooping shoulders. "When are you going to wake up? I don't care what they think."

  "But I do. You said it yourself. You liked it when the kids were nice to you. Can you imagine how they're going to act if you're with me?"

  "I don't—"

  "No. We're not going to go parading out of the school arm in arm. I won't do that to you."

  "Ah!" Jason huffed, clamping his hands over his head and spinning around in frustration. "You're making me crazy."

  "This is just between us. Who knows, maybe in a few days you'll wake up and realize how stupid you're being. Besides, I really do want to talk to Mrs. Hall."

  He took a deep breath. "Fine, have it your way, but I'm not changing my mind." He shrugged. "My heart won't let me."

  "We'll see."

  "See you at lunch?"

  "Of course." I winked.

  He started toward the front doors.

  "Jason?" I called after him.

  He looked back, but didn't give me a chance to continue. "I know. I'll do better. It's just hard—I'll do better, promise."

  I waited until Jason was outside before going into the front office. As soon as the door closed behind me, Mrs. Hall's face lit up with a warm smile.

  "Good morning, Izzy."

  "Hi, I was wondering how—"

  "Something happened last night—I don't know, something changed. She's much better."

  "That's wonderful."

  "It came on so sudden, I'm afraid she might be in denial."

  "Would that be so bad?" I mumbled.

  Mrs. Hall sank back in her chair. "After all that's happened, maybe not."

  "Why not give her a day or so." I shrugged. "It couldn't hurt?"

  "You're right. The doctors and drugs haven't done much for her, maybe some time."

  "Cool." I smiled and opened the door. "You know, I'll bet she's going to be fine. Is she home?"

  "No, she's out front."

  "With the others?" I was shocked Mrs. Hall would leave her alone so soon.

  "Yes, she insisted." Her face suddenly lit up.

  "Hey stranger," a familiar voice called from the hallway.

  I turned around. "Hey, Cathy. You look great." Behind her, Jason winked as he continued past us. "I've missed you."

  "Me too, I guess I just needed a couple of days to regroup. Not really sure why, though." She waved past me. "See ya, Mom."

  I let the door close and Cathy and I joined the others on their way to first period.

  The day went by like any other day. Cathy was a bit more talkative than I remembered and definitely more cheerful. I noticed her going through her sketchbook and she seemed confused over the dark tone to her previous work. At lunch, Jason stopped to welcome Cathy back and say hello, but gave us space. I knew it was killing him—he kept looking over—but he really seemed to want what was best for Cathy. In History, Jason and I talked casually for a few minutes before class. When the bell rang at the end, he asked if I was going to watch practice. Of course I was. Then he asked if we could meet at his Jeep afterwards. Naturally, I agreed.

  After school, Cathy caught up with me just outside the front door. "Hey, Izzy," she called, and then lowered her voice, "I'm confused."

  "About?"

  "I saw you and
Jason's pictures in the back—ah, ah, don't freak. I'm not going to say anything. So like, when did that happen?"

  "Uh, while you were out, but nothing happened."

  "Oh no you don't. Dish!"

  "Well, we met after the JV game and talked."

  "Talked?"

  "Yeah, we just talked."

  "Wait a minute, why didn't he eat lunch with you?"

  "Ah, well, it's complicated."

  "Oh my God! It's me isn't it? He doesn't want to be seen around me."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Actually, he showed up at the bleachers in spiked hair and chains."

  "No way."

  "I'm serious." I noticed the boys heading out to the field and apparently so did Cathy.

  "Go watch your pretty boyfriend. We'll talk tomorrow."

  "You won't say anything."

  Cathy pinched her thumb and finger together and drug them across her sealed lips. "Mum's the word." She raced off into the building presumably to catch up with her mother. She was definitely different, much more vibrant.

  I watched the boys from the front walkway for a moment enjoying my vision of Jason. In some ways, I didn't even need to be with him to enjoy him. Vision or not, I wasted no time getting over to my car to feast my eyes on the real thing. I watched practice—well Jason—from the hood of my car. One thing was obvious, Jason was treated as an outsider. There was another boy, Alex, who seemed friendly, but to a degree he was also shunned by the other boys. It was a light practice, shorts, mesh jerseys and helmets; but even so, Derrick's crew seemed to go out of their way to bump and jostle Jason, knocking him down unnecessarily several times. Jason got to step in as quarterback late in practice, but every pass he threw was dropped. The boy's had made much more difficult catches when Derrick was throwing. It made me mad. They ran a few laps and practice was finally over. Derrick and his crew were the first ones off the field.

  "What the hell she doing here?" Joe complained as they approached.

  "Come back for more?" Derrick yelled at me. The boy's behind him laughed hysterically.

  "You can't handle me," I prompted.

  Derrick took a step toward me, but Matt grabbed his arm. "Singleton."

  "She makes a descent hood ornament, don't you think?" Derrick said.

  The boys laughed and continued on toward the building. Coach Singleton nodded as he passed. Jason and Alex brought up the rear, dragging the equipment. Not really sure why, but Jason didn't acknowledge me. It was dark by the time the boys started trickling out of the school. I got in my car to avoid seeing Derrick again. Finally, Jason came out of the building, but he walked with a dejected gait.

  "Hey," I offered, rolling down my window.

  He tossed his stuff in the back of his Jeep and climbed in without speaking. The shower had left his aroma even more enticing than usual. It was thick, succulent, irresistible, but I could tell he was hurting.

  I pushed my desires aside. "Why don't you quit?"

  He looked over in silent disbelief.

  "You're better than Derrick. I can tell from the way the ball spirals. Your's is tighter."

  A wry smile crossed his lips. "My what is tighter?"

  "Funny." I stuck out my tongue.

  He hopped out and opened my door. "Sit with me?"

  "Sure." I did my best to maintain human speed as I raced around his Jeep to the passenger's side. His smile widened as I pulled up my knee and tucked my foot under my other leg so I could turn toward him. "What?"

  "Talk about tight."

  I refrained from pushing him playfully, afraid I might push him out of the Jeep. "Seriously, why do you let them treat you like that?"

  "Me? What about your little incident out on Moser Road? I don't see you doing anything about that."

  I turned away from him and slid my feet out of the Jeep.

  "Don't. I'm sure you have your reasons."

  I turned back toward him. "And you?"

  "Yeah, it's a family thing."

  "You going to explain that... please?"

  "It's for my dad. See, he played and said if I was going to be a real man, I had to play. You know, the whole character building thing."

  "Yeah, I've heard Coach talk about it."

  "It's more than that though, after the thing at the beach."

  "Thing at the beach?"

  He smiled unconvincingly. "Listen, we just met, no need to air the family laundry."

  "I wish I had family laundry."

  "What's that mean?"

  I knew I had to be careful about what I said, but maybe I could get him to open up. "Well, I don't have a family history."

  Jason shifted in his seat intrigued, his expression becoming serious.

  "See, I don't remember anything past about five years ago."

  "Your parents filled in the blanks though, right?"

  "Not really. They more or less found me."

  "Found you?"

  Oops. "Okay, that's not exactly true, but they adopted me. Gave me a home, a name, stuff like that."

  "I don't know what to say. You seem so normal."

  "Right, like I look all normal and all. So tell me about your dad."

  "He was a perfectionist. It was impossible to measure up."

  I didn't miss the 'was' in the reference to his father. "So, about the beach?"

  "We were supposed to go surfing on Saturday. He was always better, caught the bigger wave, rode further, like that." His voice fell off as if remembering. "Anyway, James, Aaron and me went to the beach on Friday to get in a little practice. The waves were exceptional and we wound up staying until the sun was just a sliver on the horizon. James and Aaron caught this perfectly formed wave, but I hung back for the big one behind it. The one my dad would take. When the water sank behind the first wave, I saw the tops of the kelp. I didn't realize we'd gotten so far out. I started paddling, as fast as I could, and then I saw it."

  "It?"

  "At that point, just a dark, almost black silhouette, but I knew what it was and it was coming straight for me. The wave pushed up, I hopped on my board and veered across the base of the wave. To my right, just a few yards away, a Great White rolled in the face of the wave. His jaws were open, shreds of flesh fluttering from between his giant teeth. I froze, prepared for what I thought was the end."

  "But you're here."

  "Yeah, I think I rode that wave all the way to the beach."

  I wanted to reach out and take his hand, he seemed so hurt, so vulnerable. "Guess that was the luckiest day of your life, right?"

  He looked up from the floor and smiled. "Na, that was when I met you."

  If there had been any doubt, and I had none, it ended then. He had no idea I was probably more dangerous than his Great White. I reached for him, but he stopped me.

  "You should hear the rest. I told the guys on the beach and they freaked. We packed up the car and split. Dad didn't come home that night. My mom figured it was work, that happened a lot, but when he didn't show up at the beach the next day, she started to worry. We were getting ready to leave when she spotted his Beamer in the parking lot and when I thought about it, I remembered it from the night before. Just didn't think it was Dad's."

  "Your dad!" I gasped.

  "Can't say for sure, but he hasn't been seen since. There were problems with collecting the insurance since technically he was just missing. By the end of the school year, we were broke—well cash poor. So we packed up what would fit in the van and came here."

  "Why here?"

  "Mom's family is from here. She needed to be around family."

  "Is she okay?"

  "She manages. The insurance stuff got settled so we're pretty well off, and she's got her gardening and me."

  "I can't take you away from her. She's been through so much," I mumbled.

  He slid closer and I realized for the first time just how close the atmosphere had become. "Don't you see, I want you to be a part of our lives." He leaned in, just inches from my face. His sweet breath washed over me.


  I clenched, my teeth suddenly pushing my lips apart. He tilted his head to the side in what I'm sure he expected to be our first kiss, but in doing so, he exposed the soft skin of his neck. His artery pulsed with the wild rhythm of his heart. Was I about to be his Great White?

  Suddenly he leaned back and at that instant, the breeze picked up from behind me, taking with it his irresistible scent. "Sorry. I promised I wouldn't press," he mumbled.

  "I'm just not ready."

  "That's part of what makes you so special. So, you really have no idea where you came from? I guess that makes us a real pair of misfits."

  "Don't you mean special?" We laughed, easing the anxiety and then I hopped out.

  "What?"

  "You look exhausted. You should get home, besides, I have tons of homework." I lied, at least about the homework.

  "Yeah, you're right. You start that History paper yet?"

  "Yeah, you?"

  "No, been kind of distracted."

  I walked around the back of his Jeep and got in my car. "See ya tomorrow."

  "I've never told anyone—"

  "Your secret is safe with me; and Jason, don't let them push you around like that. Okay?"

  He followed me to Main Street and we went our separate ways. On the way home, I kept thinking about Derrick and what he'd done to Cathy and what he was doing to Jason, and heck, what he'd tried to do to me. He was the school bully and somebody or some thing should do something about it, and that some thing was me. It felt like it was within my power to make things right. The question was, how?

  The next morning, while I was waiting for Jason in the parking lot, the opportunity presented itself. Derrick pulled in a few spots away from me in his car's usual, cloud of blue smoke.

  "Whew," I waved my hand in front of my face, "that thing really stinks. Haven't you heard about air quality?"

  He looked over incredulously. "You say somthin'?"

  I spun off the hood and stood facing him. "Yeah, your car belongs in a junk yard."

  As expected, his face turned beet red. "Someone should teach you some respect."

  "Respect?" I gagged. "You? Are you kidding me?"

  Derrick slammed his books on his hood and started toward me.

  "Ah, ah, ah." I pointed toward Mr. Dent who was standing at the front of the school.

  He stopped inches from me, snarling with all the menace he could muster.

  "Your lucky day. I don't think you can handle me alone. I mean last time you had to have your boys with you."

  "Who the hell you think you're talkin' too? Dent or no Dent, I should pound you."

  "Wouldn't that get you kicked off the football team? I mean how would you ever get away from this fleabag town and your farm boy stigma? Not like there's much of a chance anyway, right?"

  He was so angry the veins in his forehead were bulging, but I kept going.

  "Besides, you couldn't handle me."

  "You're so dead! Nobody—"

  "I just did, tough guy." I pushed past him and started toward the school. I only went a few steps before turning around. "Ten o'clock at the goal post—alone—we'll see what you've got."

  "I'm going to take you apart."

  "In your dreams—and if I see anyone else—"

  "It's gonna be all me, babe. I want you to myself." Two other ricers crested the hill and swung into the lot.

  "Remember, just you and me."

  Derrick grunted and stormed off toward his car and friends.

  I met Jason out front instead of at my car—I just didn't want to be anywhere near Derrick and his crew. Jason still seemed dejected, but I was going to take care of that tonight. Even though Cathy tried to convince him it was okay, Jason didn't sit with us at lunch. We had a test in History, so we didn't get a chance to talk much except to agree to meet after practice again. This time, I waited in Jason's Jeep. Derrick walked past after practice, but ignored me. I half wondered if he had forgotten.

  Jason was exhausted again. We mostly made small talk about nothing in particular, not venturing anywhere remotely close to our personal lives. Finally, I broke it off with the homework excuse so he could go home and rest. I made a u-turn after we went our separate ways and drove up to the soccer park behind the school to wait.

  The longer I waited, the more anxious I got and I was beginning to worry that I might do more to Derrick than I intended. As a precaution, I decided to hunt. The lush grass of the soccer field proved to be a deer magnet so I didn't have to venture far. It was a good, clean kill. At nine thirty, I drove back down to the school lot and parked under the street light. I wanted to be sure to get there before him. I was in the stadium when I heard the unmistakable whine of his ricer headed up the hill. I hid under the bleachers to wait.

  Derrick's car skidded to a stop next to mine. He jumped out almost before his car stopped. "Where are you, beyotch?" He shouted, slamming his hand down on my hood.

  "You better not have dented it," I grumbled.

  "Come to papa." Derrick boasted as he strutted through the front gate. "Hello?"

  Time for some fun. I sprinted down to the goal post at the far end of the stadium. "Over here." I raced back under the bleachers. When he got close, I called to him again. "Over here."

  He spun around toward the sound of my voice and started forward.

  I sprinted to the other side of the stadium. "Over here."

  He stopped and looked back. "You better be alone."

  I sprinted back to the main gate and closed it. "Oh, I am."

  Again he turned toward the sound of my voice. He covered his eyes trying to see into the darkness. "What you got a bike or somethin'?"

  Right, like a bike could go this fast. I raced up behind him, blew on his neck and was back behind the bleachers before he could turn around.

  "What the—" He slapped at the back of his neck. "Freakin' bats." He spun around slowly, surveying the stadium. "I ain't wastin' my time playin' hidein' seek. If you ain't gonna man up and take your poundin', maybe I'll pound that little wimp Jason instead.

  I sprinted up behind him, just inches away. "You'd hit a girl?"

  He spun around instantly and a smile spread across his face. "There you are."

  "How observant."

  He lunged at me, but naturally I'd already stepped back. He lunged again, but I stepped aside. He let out an angry grunt.

  "Need a potty break?"

  He lunged at me two more times without getting close. "Okay, this is the way this is going to go. You're going to let me have my way with you, then I'm going to tape you to the goal post so in the mornin' everyone will remember what happens when someone messes with me." He dropped the gym bag he had slung over his shoulder and a roll of duct tape spilled out. "Or the other way 'round, makes no never mind to me."

  "How about I tape you to the goal post?"

  He laughed. "You and what army?"

  I reminded myself, not too hard, and jabbed him in the gut. He doubled over.

  "Gonna be like that then, is it?" He groaned. He jumped at me three times before falling forward on the ground. He got up and darted toward me, but I just stepped aside when he got close, each time working him closer to the goal post. Finally, the post was between us. I raced over, grabbed the duct tape, and was back before he blinked.

  "No. I'm going to tape you to the goal post. That's how it's going to be," I taunted.

  He lunged again, this time one arm on either side of the post. I let him get a hold of my sweater. "Gottcha." He grinned, but before he knew what happened, I spun the tape around his wrists three times. "What the F—"

  I slapped a piece of tape across his mouth. "Ah, ah, ah, not in front of a lady."

  He began to kick and flail, grunting wildly like a pig. I let him go on until he tried to remove the tape from his mouth. When he reached up, I taped his hands to the goal post above his head. He continued to kick at me as I circled him.

  "This is entirely your fault you know," I started, "I mean it's one thing
to bully people, but something altogether different to actually hurt them."

  He'd stopped flailing so I stepped closer; when I did, he kicked me in the knee. I heard his ankle snap just before his muffled scream. That was more than I'd intended.

  "I guess I should wrap you up before you hurt yourself anymore." I spun another wrap of tape around his knees. With his ankle firmly in my grasp, I set the break and secured it with tape. I quickly wound the tape around him from the feet up until I was at his shoulders. At this point, he was seething with anger. I pulled the tape off his mouth and stepped back.

  He stared at me in disbelief. "You're dead, you know that, right?"

  "You don't get it do you?"

  "I don't know what you're on, meth or somethin', but when I get loose you're so—"

  I slapped the piece of tape back over his mouth. A dog barked in the distance, drawing my attention toward the parking lot. "Your car." I winked at him and then sprinted to the parking lot, flipped his car over on its roof and jogged back. "That was for running me off the road. The tape is for Cathy."

  He struggled one more time, although he was bound so tightly he could hardly move, and then he went limp from exhaustion.

  I rested my hand on his forehead and ran the sequence of events back to where he pulled into the parking lot and then released. Once the final tape was in place, I headed back to my car. I was so proud of myself. I'd set things right for Cathy. Derrick's stupid flailing would give Jason a chance on the football team—an extra, unintended bonus—and I'd even gotten my own revenge. Derrick would have no idea what happened and that would be the end of it. Yes, tomorrow was going to be a stellar day.