Hooked (Harlequin Teen) (16 page)

Chapter 29
Fred

I DIDN’T KNOW
what time it was when I headed back home across the desert, but it was
late enough for the moon to have dropped behind the Estrella Mountains.

It wasn’t easy convincing Ryan to let me walk home either. It
was barely a mile, I assured him, compared to at least twenty if we drove all
the way down Pecos Road, got back onto the freeway and then drove another ten
miles onto the Rez off the next freeway exit. It would have been like driving in
a complete circle when all you really needed to do was walk to the center.

“Let me at least drive you through the desert, then?” he
insisted as we leaned together against the hood of his car. “My Jeep can handle
it. It’s four-wheel drive.”

“No. If the Tribal Police catch you, they’ll arrest you for
trespassing.” That was only partly true, although I made it sound as if there
was an army of Tribal Police patrol cars on the Rez when really only a handful
existed. What I wanted to avoid was introducing Ryan to my most assuredly drunk
mother. There was no telling what she would say if she caught us on the
doorstep. Ryan would have been as out of place at our trailer as a stretch
limousine.

Despite my protests, Ryan insisted on keeping his headlights
shining over the desert as I walked back home. Halfway through the desert when I
stopped to look over my shoulder, I could still see his headlights, a reminder
that we were connected by a beam of light and his concern. The headlights were
as bright as stars. I kept glancing over my shoulder, watching them, until they
turned the size of fireflies. I had a crazy stupid happy grin on my face the
whole way home.

When I finally got home, the house was so quiet that I could
hear the reliable tick of the second hand on the stove clock in the kitchen. I
crept into my bedroom, barely letting the screen door squeak. In the darkness, I
looked up at the sky from my bedroom window, still smiling. When the curtain
fluttered, I was treated to a blanket of stars. Just like I always did, I found
the Big Dipper. Then the Little.

As I gazed out the window, my fingertips brushed over my mouth,
cheeks, neck, all the places that still tingled from Ryan’s kisses and warm
hands. His fingers, like his kisses, were gentle and curious. Nothing like I
expected. When I closed my eyes, I could still see him, feel him, his arms
wrapped around me, his hands pressed against my skin, mine against his,
exploring each other. When I kissed Ryan Berenger, I swear I saw more stars than
all the stars in the sky.

I vowed that I would never forget this day—this night—for as
long as my ancestors allowed me to live.

It had been the happiest, most perfect day. And it had happened
when I least expected it.

* * *

The rules have changed, haven’t
they?

That’s what I thought as I walked to the school library on
Monday morning, just like I always did, after dropping off my golf bag in Coach
Lannon’s office. Sam called to say that he and Pete would catch a ride with
Kelly and Yolanda, but, other than that, it felt like your basic Monday.

But...was it?

The day might have felt the same, but I felt completely
different, almost like a person reborn. My heartbeat pounded louder, stronger. I
didn’t walk so much as glide. The sky smelled fresher, the air felt lighter.
Whenever I touched my face, my lips were turned up in a goofy smile. Jeez! Would
anyone else notice? Was my happiness that obvious?

I’d wondered all weekend whether Ryan and I would eat lunch
together in the cafeteria. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

What about English?

Would we sit together in Study Hall, too?

And what about golf practice? Surely we’d practice alongside
each other, wouldn’t we?

Or—and this was the part that frightened me the most—would
everything in my life stay exactly the same? If it did, then Saturday night
never happened. It might as well have been a dream. My chest tightened,
imagining such a cruelty. And for an instant, my goofy smile faded.

I just had to find out. I had to know.

With my backpack threaded over my shoulder, I opened the door
to the library and breezed by the empty library desk. Then I walked along the
quiet row of mostly empty cubicles until I reached the last one at the end of
the stacks. It had been my pre-first-bell hiding spot for the past two years,
one month and three days, but who was counting?

When I reached my usual spot, I almost swallowed my tongue.
That’s because I was about to trip over the tops of Ryan Berenger’s Converse
tennis shoes. They were crossed at the ankles and sticking outside the cubicle
entrance like tree branches.

“Hi, Fred,” Ryan said.

Fred.
I loved the way he said my
name. It almost sounded pretty.

My stomach dropped, but in a good way. I could barely mouth,
Hi.
I had to blink, just to make sure he wasn’t
an illusion.

“Thought you’d get here earlier.” He stood slowly and
dangerously close, making just enough room for me to squeeze into the
cubicle.

Instant body heat.

Ryan had to have felt it, too. His mouth twisted into a shy
smile so breathtakingly beautiful that my body swayed.

Finally, my vocal cords caught up to my brain. “I had to drop
my bag off in the coach’s office.” I laid my backpack on the desk and reached
for the zipper, grateful for something to occupy my hands.

“Want to work on English before Homeroom?”

“English?”
What’s that?

Ryan nodded. He wedged around me to squeeze outside the
cubicle. More heat, followed by enough electricity to power half the country.
“I’ll get another chair.”

Please don’t,
I wanted to say.
Please stay.
Instead, I said, “Okay,” quietly
inhaling the minty shampoo scent from his still-damp hair. Some of the blond
ends were clumped together with moisture. I wanted to run my fingers through his
soft waves like I had Saturday night.

Ryan found another empty chair and wedged it inside the
cubicle. There was barely enough room for one chair, let alone two, and that was
perfectly fine by me. Our thighs melded together as we sat alongside each other,
warm and secure.

“Have you written your paper yet?”

I nodded, although I hoped he wouldn’t ask what I wrote
yesterday. Gazing into his eyes, I couldn’t remember a single word. I wasn’t
sure I remembered the instructions.

Ryan threaded his fingers through his hair, and I wished that I
were that hand. “I didn’t.” He sighed. “Maybe we could get together this week
and work on it? I could really use your help.”

I nodded again, numbly.
This week? Work on
it? Work on what? He wants to do homework together? With me?

When I didn’t answer, Ryan reached for my hand, just about
putting me over the top on the emotional scale. It was like I’d ridden to the
highest point of a roller coaster, the wind swallowing my breath. Another second
and I’d start screaming with my arms over my head. Then he placed his other hand
over mine like a sandwich. “Fred...you’re shaking. Are you okay?”

I managed a small nod. I wished I could tell him how happy I
was, but the words wouldn’t come.

By the way his smile turned crooked, though, I figured he
already knew. “Good,” he said as he squeezed my hand. “I thought about calling
you yesterday, you know.”

My stomach fluttered all over again. “You did?” My voice
squeaked with more surprise. I would have loved a call from Ryan yesterday. I
couldn’t stop thinking about him all day.

“You’re not in the book.”

“What book?”

“Phone book.”

“Oh.” Quickly, I took the blue pen from the front pocket of my
backpack and wrote down my phone number.

“Your cell?”

“No,” I said without looking at him. “It’s to the phone in our
kitchen.”
And it works, so long as my mother pays the phone
bill.

He put his arm behind the back of my chair. “You don’t mind if
I call you at home?”

“Call anytime.” I tried to sound casual, but I was so not good
at sounding casual. I wasn’t good at sounding like anything.

Ryan let out a breath like he was relieved. Or surprised. “I
really had fun on Saturday,” he said, reading my mind. “The whole day, I mean.
Not just at Pecos Road.”

I felt my cheeks blush, remembering. I remembered every kiss,
every touch, every second, every breath. I put down the pen, just in case he
wanted to hold my hand again. “Me, too,” I said. There was so much I wanted to
tell Ryan, if only I had more nerve.
Me, too
hardly
described it. I wished I could tell him how the mere sight of him made my
stomach do flip-flops, how being close to him made every inch of my skin tingle.
If he was patient, I’d tell him everything.
Everything.

“I brought you something.” He leaned forward for his
backpack.

I leaned forward, too, curious.

From the top pocket, he pulled out a rolled-up
Arizona Republic,
the sports section. He laid it over
the opened notebook and turned to page three.

“I wasn’t sure if you saw this, but your picture is in here,
along with a blurb about our win last week.” He turned, his face so close to
mine that I could see a tiny freckle on his nose. “It’s a pretty good
picture.”

“What? Me?” I broke away from Ryan’s gaze to smooth the
newspaper. On the bottom of the page, there was a black-and-white photo of me
standing on the fourth tee at the Ahwatukee Golf Club. I remembered the hole
well. I had just swung my driver and was staring down the fairway, waiting for
the ball to drop, hoping it would miss a gigantic sand trap. I didn’t remember
any camera or flashes. The caption read Fredricka Oday from the Gila Indian
River Community, Lone Butte High School Varsity Golf Team. I wondered if anyone
from the Rez would see it. I didn’t know anyone who got the newspaper
delivered.

“Ugh. They used my full name.”

Ryan smiled. “I like it. It’s different.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Totally serious.”

I bit back a smile. Ryan Berenger continued to amaze me. “Who
took it?”

Ryan didn’t answer. Instead, he said again, “Pretty picture,
too,” smiling at me sideways until the heat turned up in my cheeks. “Looks like
you’re getting famous around here,” he teased, and my skin burned hotter. I
finally smirked at him and wrapped my hand around his arm.

Then I studied the picture again. “I don’t remember a
photographer. Someone from the paper did call my house, but he only wanted to
know how long I’d been playing golf. He said he’d try to come watch one of our
tournaments but didn’t make any promises.”
Never mind that
I’ve never been in a newspaper before.

“You’ll get used to it, especially when you keep winning.”

“
If,
not
when.
”

“No way,” Ryan chuckled. “You’ll keep winning. I’ve seen you
play. And I have a good feeling.”

I sat higher in my chair and beamed back at him. I could feel
my lips curving upward again, into that goofy, deliriously happy smile. I bit
down to stop it.

The rules have changed.

The first warning bell rang.

“Damn,” Ryan muttered, frowning at the wall clock. “We gotta
go.”

“Yeah,” I said, just as Ryan turned, leaned closer and then
very gently pressed his lips against mine. His lips were soft and warm and his
tongue parted my lips. It wasn’t a dream.

My head spun all the way to Homeroom.

Chapter 30
Ryan

I WALKED FRED TO
HER HOMEROOM
before running halfway across the building to mine. I
glided inside, skateboard-style, just as the bell rang, and ignored the Homeroom
teacher’s glare when my kicks screeched across the linoleum.

Too bad I couldn’t switch to Fred’s Homeroom. It would have
delayed the inevitable for twenty more minutes. I seriously needed to talk to
Seth and Gwyneth. I was dreading it, but they had Fred figured all wrong. And
maybe they had me figured all wrong, too.

Seth sat in the last row. I slid into the empty seat beside
him. I dumped my backpack underneath the desk and nodded, just as the principal
started droning over the loudspeakers about Friday’s football game and the
upcoming Homecoming dance.

I cringed inside.
The dance.
One more thing I’d have to cancel
with Gwyneth.

“Hey. Dude. Thanks for the blow-off on Saturday.” Seth’s
smile was tighter than usual, every facial muscle triggered to snap like a
mousetrap.

“Yeah, sorry,” I exhaled.

“You missed a real ripper.”

I nodded like I was bummed. But then my hand absently
scratched the side of my head. “Had some lame stuff going on at home.”

“Really?” Seth’s eyes widened just as mine darted to the
desk in front of me. “Like what?”

I swallowed, considering this. I hadn’t planned on telling
Seth about Fred and me in Homeroom. I was kind of hoping to wait till after
school, at least till lunch. “Oh, you know. Stuff. My old man wanted me to keep
an eye on Riley while he was at work.”

Seth chuckled. “Work?” His eyebrows arched, doubtful. “Since
when?” Unfortunately, Seth knew all about Dad. I should have said something more
believable, but his sudden inquisition was unexpected.

“You know,” I said, eager to fast-forward past Dad’s
extracurricular activities. “Whatever it is he does.”

“You mean banging secretaries?”

I glared at him.

“That’s too bad. Missed a ballin’ party at Troy’s.” He made
a drinking motion with his hand, but his eyes still had a crazy glint, like
there was more to the story. Like the police had been called or something.

“So I heard,” I lied and faked a conspiratorial grin. If
only I could tell him that I hadn’t missed a thing. I would have traded one
hundred parties at Troy’s for one Saturday night on Pecos Road with Fred. I
couldn’t get her out of my mind, and now I didn’t want to.

“Gwyneth’s pretty pissed at you. I’d stay clear till at
least fourth period.”

“Yeah, Gwyneth...” My voice trailed off. Back to
reality.

Fourth period was Study Hall when we usually sat together
and I half listened to her complain about one of her girlfriends or some teacher
that she hated. That was when I planned to talk to Gwyneth. I wanted to break up
with her, and I already felt pretty guilty about not doing it sooner. “Thanks
for the warning.”

“But I think she said something about meeting you after
English,” Seth added.

My shoulders slumped. I would have preferred Study Hall.

Seth paused. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits as he peered at
me sideways. “Zack said he saw you at the club with Pocahontas.” He paused
again, oddly.

Zack. I had forgotten about seeing him and his dad at the
country club on Saturday. Funny, it had bothered me then but now I didn’t really
care. Let him see Fred and me together. Let everyone see us together.

My mouth turned dry as Seth waited. Finally I said, “That’s
lame, Seth. You really shouldn’t call her that.”

“What?” Seth’s voice challenged, as if he had been expecting
me to defend her. “Pocahontas?” Two guys in front of us turned their heads,
looked at each other and smiled nervously.

“Cram it, Seth,” I hissed.

“Isn’t she Indian? Or am I not allowed to say it?”

I ignored him.

“Something else you want to tell me?” he taunted.

“What is your fucking problem?”

“I don’t have the problem.” He paused. “You do.”

Anger churned inside me like a tornado. Seth was stoking for
a fight and impossible to ignore. I wasn’t about to talk about Fred in Homeroom
in front of a couple of nosy dudes.

Seth leaned closer when I didn’t answer him. He lowered his
voice. “Then let me say something.” He jabbed his forefinger at me. “First,
don’t lie. I am not a tool. I know why you flaked out Saturday night. I
saw
you.” It
was as if he’d prepared for this. “I saw what you did.”

I glared at him.

A glint of satisfaction settled on his face. “We both
did.”

“Who?” I blurted. But then I remembered the truck, the one
that had peeled away in the dark.

“Gwyneth. We followed your ass to Pecos.”

“You followed me?” My voice rose in disbelief.

Seth began to stutter. I hadn’t heard him do that in years
either. It only happened when he got really pissed. “And, s-s-s-second...” He
stopped and drew in a breath to steady his speech. “Do you realize that you’re
screwing your life by hanging out with that Indian?”

My body froze. “Shut. Up. Seth,” I said through clenched
teeth. “Just shut up.” By now, half of Homeroom was listening, or trying to.
Fortunately, the overhead speakers were turned up pretty loud.

“What do you have in common with her anyway? Have you
thought about that? And have you forgotten that she’s the reason I’m off the
g-g-golf team?” Seth began to stutter again. I knew that he also was itching to
remind me how his dad had been killed, but, thankfully, he left that
unspoken.

My nostrils still flared. I couldn’t answer him.

“You know the only reason you’re interested in her is
because it’ll piss off your dad. Admit it.” Seth’s eyes grew dangerously dark,
daring a contradiction.

My breathing got louder as I drew it between my teeth,
glaring back at Seth.

Seth lowered his voice. “Are you going to start hanging out
on the reservation now, going to powwows and shit? Have you gone totally
lame?”

“Shut
up,
Seth,” I said. He was pushing me, and my
fingers tingled as if they were on fire. I wanted to punch something. I shoved
my fists between my legs. “Just shut up and leave me alone,” I said as I waited
for the next bell to ring. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The principal finally finished his announcements. I hadn’t
heard a single one. Students began to shuffle books and papers as they reached
for their backpacks, stealing glances at Seth and me, probably wondering if
there was going to be a fight. I saw a few reach for their cell phones.

“Sorry, dude,” Seth said, his voice normal again. “But I’m
your best friend. Somebody had to tell you.”

“Stop talking, Seth,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Please.” My forehead started to throb, and the curious stares around me didn’t
help.

But I couldn’t flake off something that Seth said. Was I
falling for Fred for all the wrong reasons? For an instant, a part of me
wondered if he was right.

Maybe I should have left everything the way it was.