Girl on the Run (20 page)

Lacey was still not cheering.

Scotty stood over us. “We need the ball,” he demanded.

“Yeah, sure.” I pushed myself up, and then squared off against Kirk again as the rest of the team took their places. “I caught the ball,” I said, innocently.

“You have no idea,” he whispered.

“No kidding!” I said. “Why is your girlfriend sitting on the sidelines cheering for Ben?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you with Lacey?” Ben asked, ignoring the other players now rushing around us. “Not that it's any of my business who you're dating.”

Kirk stared back at him. “You'd be surprised,” he said.

“I thought you weren't going to play games,” I said.

“I never turn down football.”

Tyler called out for us to shut up. I paid little attention to the next few plays; my own plan was to run away from those two every time someone threw the ball.

But the next throw was headed straight for me. Keeping my eyes on the ball, I weaved behind Spencer and made the catch. When I turned to run, my ankle twisted. I knew it wasn't serious, but the pain made me fall to my knees.

A bevy of voices were above me. Someone helped me stand. My ankle was sore, but I could walk. Grateful for an excuse to leave the game, I began to limp off the field. After one and a half steps, Kirk was beside me, holding me by the waist. My arm naturally draped over his shoulder.

We hobbled to the sidelines and he sat me next to Lacey. Sourpuss doesn't even come close to describing her expression. Kirk lightly touched my ankle.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

I tried to ignore the tingles his touch was setting off inside me. “It's just tender,” I said.

“J.J.?” Spencer appeared. “Will you be able to run again?”

“My ankle is fine,” I said. He was a tenacious bugger. “But we're not running again.”

He rubbed his hands together. “You say that now,” he threatened.

“Are you going to pass out or maybe barf?” Liam asked.

“I'll get you some water,” Scotty offered.

“Um…I'm okay,” I called out, but he was already racing up the slope.

“You need some ice,” Ben said, leaning over Kirk.

“Oh, Jazzy,” Lacey said. “Your feet are filthy.”

She was right. “I was playing in my bare feet,” I reasoned.

Kirk didn't seem to mind; my foot was still cradled in his hands. “How about here?” he asked, his fingers probing. I swallowed, unable to break eye contact.

“Here, J.J.” Scotty stood above me, out of breath. He handed me a glass of water with lime slices.

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Is this good?” Spencer had a bag of crushed ice. Ben took it from him and wrapped it in a shirt that had been tossed from one of the other players. He nudged Kirk out of the way, and laid the cold pack on my ankle.

“It's not too heavy, is it?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “It's perfect.”

I sat basking in their attention.
How does Chloe do it?
I was exhausted, and it had only been a few hours.

“Do you think you'll be able to walk back to your cabin?” Kirk asked.

“Yup.”

“How about a midnight stroll?” Ben winked.

Tyler and Devin called them back to the field. As the guys sauntered across the grass I turned to Lacey.

“Aren't boys great?!” I said. “Don't you wish you had some?”

I
stood in the hot shower, letting the water stream off my braids. My ankle was a little swollen, but after a couple of Ibuprofen and a night of sleep, it would be fine. I changed into clean shorts and a sweatshirt for the long walk back to my shed by the woods.

It sounded like a Laura Ingalls Wilder novel,
My Little Shed By The Woods
.

I glanced up at my former abode. It was past dusk and the grounds were darkening by the minute. Their laughter echoed down the slope. Yup, that was Liam. What did Ben have them doing? There was a weird hollow feeling in my stomach. I actually missed them.

Ben had helped walk me back to my cabin after the game. “Is your foot okay?” he kept asking.

I couldn't help but notice Kirk and Lacey were standing together, glowering at me and Ben as we limped across the grass.

When we stopped outside my door, he purposely hung back, making up excuses to keep the conversation going. I began to wonder if he expected me to invite him in.

“Look,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Today has been really weird. But can I see you later?”

My eyes grew big. “Later?”

He grinned at my surprised expression. “Maybe we could go for a midnight stroll?”

I stood off balance, keeping all my weight on my uninjured foot. It was a perfect metaphor to describe my mental state. Did I want to meet up with Ben later? It was all great and fun during the football game, but he was obviously ready to pick up where we had left off.

I swallowed, trying to buy some time. No matter what I did, things got messed up anyway. I remembered fighting with Kirk earlier, trying to convince to help me get Cabin 4A back. He didn't get it. He didn't get me at all.

“Yeah,” I finally said. My tone was a bit flat, so I gave him a smile. “A midnight stroll sounds perfect.”

I sat on my bed, watching the clock. The MIDNIGHT STROLL bag lay empty on the floor. My hair had been straightened for at least an hour, and I had to reapply the lip gloss twice. I smoothed out the white denim capris.

Midnight. Twelve o'clock. A fairly straightforward time. Not easily confused with say, one thirty or two forty-five. He was late.
Maybe he's taking a long shower. Maybe he's flossing and using extra mouthwash…hopefully.
The memory of the dill pickle chips was enough to make me cringe.

I came up with ten different excuses for him before a new idea dawned on me. The paranoia from my time in Cabin 4A started to rear its ugly head again. I saw my invitation through a new set of eyes—the eyes of revenge. What exactly were Kirk and Ben talking about on the field? Had they compared notes?

Ben came up here thinking I was waiting for him. Meanwhile, I had had this amazing make-out session with Kirk! And then there was the Lacey factor. What the heck was her part in this whole mess?

It was now twelve thirty. It was official, I'd been stood up. I took off my outfit, then for good measure I kicked it into a heap in the corner. I pulled on my soccer shirt and climbed into bed. Staring at the dark ceiling, I remembered Cabin 4A laughing tonight, maybe laughing at me.

Slowly, footsteps grew louder, coming closer. I strained my ears for clues. But other than the scuffing across the grass, it was dead silent. No whispering. No mad cackling. No sounds of grunting boys lifting a huge eel to throw through the window. Someone knocked on the door, softly.

“Are you asleep?” he asked.

It was too late to put on the outfit again, and quite frankly I was still pissed. I slipped on my favourite jeans and ran my fingers through my hair a few times, hoping it had that sexy, tumbled-out-of-bed look…which I guess I just had.

I opened the door prepared to make him at least apologize.

“Hey,” he smiled. “The guys are finally settled, and I wanted to check on you.” He leaned against the door frame. “You're here all by yourself next to the woods, and I thought you might be scared to sleep alone.”

Obviously Ben had a different concept of making a date than I did. Thank goodness I hadn't answered the door all done up; his nerd alert would have gone off for sure. He ignored my glare and looked down at my bare feet.

“How's the sprain?” he asked.

I wiggled my toes, a bit embarrassed. “Um…better.”

He glanced around my room, taking in the dishevelled bed. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was just…thinking.” Now that Ben was standing in front of me, the idea of a master plan of revenge seemed ridiculous.

“Me too.” He held out his hand. “How about a midnight stroll?”

He did remember…sort of. And after the day I had, “sort of” was good enough for me. I grabbed my windbreaker and pulled it over my soccer shirt.

We walked the first few minutes in silence, headed for the trail into the woods.

“I think it's too dark,” I started, then a beam of light hit the path in front of me. Ben was wearing a cocky expression, with a flashlight in his hand. “Oh, smart.”

“Thanks.”

The overheard branches cast even more shadows, and we slowed down our steps. My arm brushed against his a few times. He stared at the path, keeping clear of the roots jutting out along the trail. The quiet was beginning to bother me. “So,” I began, “what do you think of Cabin 4A?”

“Usual,” he said. “Spencer seems a bit more manageable than I remember.”

I snorted. “Don't be fooled,” I said.

“Thanks for the warning, but I'm the one with more experience, remember?” he said. “I'm sure it's different with a guy counsellor.”

It was dark enough so he couldn't see my expression. “No eels in the bed, then?” I asked, unable to hide the bitterness to the words.

He looked at me sideways.

I glanced away. “Just a thing that happened,” I stammered, embarrassed to have even brought it up. Of course they would never put an eel in Ben's bed. We continued to pick our way up the twisted path listening to the crickets and peepers. I tried to remember if he'd been this quiet at the movie. Maybe he wished he had some popcorn to munch on. I finally had to break the silence and ask him something I had been wondering about. “Um…this may not be any of my business,” I said. “But were you and Lacey once a thing?”

A funny expression crossed his face, then he looked away, almost embarrassed. “Ah, Lacey,” he said.
“Yeah, we kind of went out last summer.”

“Thought so.” I let out a breath, feeling oddly deflated. First she had Ben, now she was working on Kirk. Was there no guy who didn't prefer her over me?

“Why? Did she say anything about me?”

The question surprised me. “Um, no. I guessed.” We walked a few more steps.

“I broke up with her,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I know she seems awesome and fun and totally gorgeous.”

“Okay,” I said. “I get it.”

“And it's hard to imagine anyone breaking up with her, but…”

“But?” I prompted, letting my imagination come up with some wonderful abnormality for Lacey.

“But, she's an ex-girlfriend for a reason.”

“Okay.”

He turned to me. “You're saying ‘okay' a lot.”

I shrugged. “It's my standard response to ex-girlfriend talk on a midnight stroll.”

“Sorry,” he grinned.

“It's okay.”

He laughed and reached for my hand. I found this reassuring. We walked on, but the silence didn't bother me anymore. It was nice and calming. I liked being with Ben. There was no racing pulse, or sudden rush of heat waves through my body making me want to shed my clothing. I took peek at him. His perfect profile was out lined against the trees. I stared at his lips, concentrating on the memory of our time in his car. Would it make me a slut if I let him kiss me tonight?

He stopped suddenly, jarring me out of my daze. The change in his usual charming expression freaked me out a bit. He tilted his head to the side, then turned off the flashlight, blinding us.

“Quiet,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Shh.”

My eyes darted around, trying to probe the darkness. But all I heard was the wind in the leaves. He let go of my hand.

“Ben?” I said.

“I think someone's following us.” His hand slid around my waist and he pulled me to the side of the trail.

Something felt wrong. I didn't want to be on the trail in the dark so close to where Spencer had fallen. A weird lumpy mass off to the side seem to shift in the shadows.

Feet and lungs, Jesse.

The ground under my feet felt like it was slipping away. My stomach squeezed tightly, threatening to push up my throat. I put a hand over my mouth. “I have to go back,” I said, my voice muffled. I turned and walked into the shadows, the rising panic pushing me to get out of the woods.

“Wait up!” Ben turned the flashlight back on and came along beside me. “I could have sworn I heard voices.”

“Do you hear them often?” I tried to joke. I didn't dare look over my shoulder at the weird shape.

“Actually, I hear them now. Can't you?”

I stopped walking and the flashlight went out again. “Ben, stop it,” I said.

No answer. His dark outline had frozen.

“Who's Ben?” a different voice said.

Crap. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He laughed then flicked the light on again. I punched him in the arm. “Jerk!”

“You're so easy to frighten,” he said.

I'd had enough of being the brunt of everyone's jokes. The words tumbled out quickly. “Well, if you'd been terrorized like I have for the last few weeks…”

He ignored my tantrum and pulled me into a hug. “Oh poor, Jesse,” he teased. “Don't worry; I'll take care of those bad kids for you.”

I didn't appreciate the baby voice he used. His hands ran up and down my back, paying particular attention to the fact I wasn't wearing a bra. He nuzzled in close, kissing my neck. “You're very sexy when you're scared.”

My pulse was racing, but not from the kissing. “Um…Ben,” I said, pushing my hands against his chest.

Whoosh!

I heard it, then I felt it, and then I smelled it.

We were disoriented at first. Then we took inventory. Ben swore. I, on the other hand, didn't open my mouth. The slimy substance that coated my head, face, most of my jacket, and the bottom half of my jeans was, without a doubt, eel crap.

I wiped some of the goo away from my face, and finally breathed. Ben swore again, but he got off lucky with only a few splatters on his jacket.

I finally found my voice. “Settled down, were they?” I demanded.

“What?” he asked, still in shock.

“Give me that flashlight!” I grabbed it from his hand, and pointed it up into the trees over our heads. But we had taken too long to act, and the little demons were well on their way back to Cabin 4A.

“What the hell was that?” He took in my full appearance and backed up.

“A bucket of eel poop, idiot.” I began to march down the path.

“Why?”

“Because they like to do stuff to me,” I shouted back, no need for whispers now.

Ben was darting glances into the woods. “Who?”

“Who else? Cabin 4A!”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “They were all asleep when I left.”

“Of course,” I said, raising my hands in the air, letting some slime fly off. “You're the one with all the experience.”

He stopped and gave me a weird look. “Don't be mad, but I think it might have been Lacey.”

I pointed my stinky finger in his face. “Rule number one, stop talking about the ex-girlfriend. Rule number two, the person covered in the most eel shit is always right. Rule number three, Cabin 4A is made up of four boys, who seem normal but are actually Satan's turds.”

“You're mad.”

I made a
pfft
sound, spraying slime and kept walking. Oddly enough, I managed to take comfort in the fact that, for once, Kirk was not around to witness an embarrassing episode. The trail ended and I marched across the green lawn.

“Hold on, you missed your cabin,” Ben said, following behind.

“It's a shed! And that's not where I'm going.”

“Right, showers.”

“Guess again.”

“Oh, please not Lacey's cabin.”

“You're breaking rule number one again,” I shouted. “And no, not her cabin either.”

It was dark. I tried to blink away the slime, so I didn't see him until I heard my name. Kirk was halfway between me and Cabin 4A. He'd showered and changed into jeans and zip up hoodie. He looked me up and down. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing a visit to Cabin 4A won't fix,” I said, stomping past him. Ignoring Kirk's questions, I flew up the porch steps and flung open the door.

Ben jumped in front of me, putting his hands up. “Let me handle it,” he said, flicking on the light switch. “You're too upset.”