Secret Catch (9 page)

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, and I quirk a smile at her. I thought she knew the origin of the school rivalry, but by the look on her face, I guess not.

“Trojans were upset already, but the Skyhawks assumed that she got on the team because of the relationship between her and the captain, and
they
got mad. A fight broke out on the field, more broken body parts… mostly noses. But the big thing that happened? The first girl player in our town was banned from the game indefinitely. As was her trainer. People picked sides, blamed the Trojans for not letting her play in the first place. Blamed the Skyhawks for
letting
her play. Every game since, it’s been a battle of who’s the better team.” I pause, focusing on Sam. “Some years it’s worse than others. But the one rule that keeps things from getting like it was in 1992—”

“Don’t date the enemy.” Sam nearly whispers it. It’s quiet for a bit while Parker wraps her arms around Sam’s middle, and Josh frowns at me. But it’s Reed who breaks the silence.

“Who’d want to date when you can play football?”

We all laugh, the tension breaking from my chest and I say, “Good point.” But I give Sam a wink so she knows I’m kidding.

The kids start talking again, razzing and punching each other. Parker looks like she’s about to doze off in Sam’s arms. I check my phone again, and my stomach sinks because I gotta run.

Sam gestures to her wrist and mouths, “Time to go?”

I nod and get to my feet. Being as smooth as I can, I take my sister from Sam’s arms, and try to help her stand, but it’s hard since Parker isn’t as light when she’s not holding her weight. So Sam bats my hand away and gets up on her own. I don’t know why, but I find her independence damn sexy.

“Okay,” Josh says, clapping his hands, “next week, same time.”

The guys head off to our cars, but I snag Sam’s hand before she gets too far. I shift Parker so I’m more comfortable and lean into Sam’s ear.

“Tomorrow night? Airport?”

I feel her grin against my cheek, and she kisses a spot on my neck.

“Tonight. Skype.”

“After nine.”

She pulls back and smiles. “After nine.”

She jogs to her car, and I watch her legs the whole way. It’s totally worth the rule breaking.

I never really knew the whole story as to why dating the opposite team was so taboo. It seems kind of silly now, but I can put myself in the situation.

People take football really serious around here. There are three things you never joke about: religion, government, and football.

If the girl was really that good, I can see why she’d want to play. I would if I could. The thrill of running out on the field, the smell of the grass, and the cheer of the fans must be exhilarating. It would get in your blood, make you want it, and make you
need
it. Dad always talked about it like that.

The girl must’ve wanted to do anything to be a part of it. Her boyfriend didn’t understand, didn’t have faith in her enough to see she was good enough or to believe in her.

The other guy though, the Skyhawk, he did. He saw the potential and believed in her enough to take a big chance on her. Too bad it didn’t work out for them.

I wonder if they’re still together.

The boys talk all the way home so I’m alone with my thoughts about what should and shouldn’t be and…Tyler. Lots of Tyler. Tyler on repeat.

He’s so great with the boys. I don’t think they even care that he’s a Trojan anymore. To them he’s just Koontz. Maybe the whole town should be more like them.

Josh’s so exhausted after practice today as soon as we walk through the door he goes straight to his room to lie down.

“Sam,” Mom says to me, coming out of her room.

I jump and clutch at my chest, not expecting her to be up.

“Did you need something?” I ask.

“Where were you?”

I blink a few times. Pinch myself. Is she serious?

“Josh and I were at the park playing…like we do every Sunday morning.”

She twists her hands into the tie on her robe, and the full effect of how she looks hits me. Her hair is done. Like blow-dried, and I think she touched up her auburn color. She has a touch of blush along her cheeks, her legs are shaved, and her eyes aren’t the complete hollow shells I’ve come to expect.

“Well,” she begins, and I have to pinch myself again. “I was hoping we could have dinner. I was going to put a meatloaf in the oven for later.” She leans against the door jam and looks toward the kitchen.

“Sorry. I… I can’t,” I say, moving around her to a much needed shower. “I made plans to study over at Paige’s. I’m sure Josh would love to have dinner with you though.” I force the sides of my mouth to curve up a little.

She nods. “Okay, honey.” And then she goes back into her room.

I stare at the door with probably the weirdest look on my face. I haven’t seen this person in six months. I’m pretty sure I should be happy she’s making an effort, but maybe the shock of it hasn’t settled, or maybe I just don’t want to get my hopes up yet. Still, how can she just pretend that she hasn’t been indifferent since Dad died?

After a quick shower, I grab my backpack and head out to my car without another Mom encounter.

Josh’ll be fine. She looks engaged, wants to make dinner… I just have things to do. Unlike her, I’ve had to move on, live my life, take care of the damage. Before I pull out of the driveway I grab my phone and send a text to Paige.

On my way.

I start driving, nearly backing into Brad as he sneaks up behind the car. I give him the bird when I roll down my window.

“Hey, where you headed?” he asks, twisting my finger down.

“Paige’s. But Josh and my mom are here if you need a place to chill.”

“Nah. I came to see you.” He runs a hand over his short blond hair, then crouches to put his face level to mine. “You gonna be around later?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just needed to talk football stuff.”

I snort. “Like what?”

“I was thinking of… well, I was hoping to get your advice on switching positions.”

Today must be the day for shockers. I crick my neck, gesturing for him to get in the front seat. He stands up, rolls across my hood, and plops into the car with his feet on the dash.

“Okay, you want to what?” I ask, pulling from the drive.

“I was thinking next year I want to go out for something else.”

“I thought you loved tight-end.”

He scratches the scruff on his chin. “I do. But I don’t know, I’m not sure I’ll get to start as tight-end next year.”

A bolting laugh escapes me. “Bullshit.”

“I’m being serious!” He gently shoves my shoulder, making me swerve a little as I come to the stop sign at the end of our road. Some Skyhawk haters have spray-painted a giant T in golden yellow on it.

“Since when did you get so insecure?” I ask, shoving him back.

He shrugs. “I’m not. Just wanted to try something different.”

I blow out a breath and shake my head. “Look, if you were a freshman or sophomore I’d probably say go for it, but you’re a junior who has always started as tight-end. Next year scouts are going to be looking at you, and we both know you want to get out of here on a scholarship. Why not stay where you know you can kick ass?”

He drops his feet from the dash and rubs his eyes. It’s quiet, but I figure he’s working things out in his brain, and it’s probably best I just let him at it. I turn down Jeff Greenwald’s street, since he’s the Skyhawk captain, and I’m pretty sure his advice will be way better than mine.

“Yeah,” Brad finally says, dropping his hand.

“Can I leave you here?” I ask, nodding to Jeff’s house. He and Brett Peterson are out in the front and I give them a wave before putting the car in park.

Brad half-smiles and unbuckles. “Bring me to Mommy, why don’t ya.”

“Shut up. You know they’ll help you out of your funk.”

He nods, and then in a complete out-of-character move for him, he leans over and hugs me. Brad’s so afraid to touch people in any affectionate way, which is probably why he doesn’t have much luck with girlfriends. But I awkwardly pat his shoulder, and he gets out and immediately starts shooting the shit with his teammates.

My phone chimes with a text from Paige, bringing me back to where I was headed in the first place.

See you in a few!

Two minutes later I’m parked in front of her house. Her mom answers the door and gives me a hug before letting me in. I run upstairs and open her door.

Paige sits cross-legged on her bed, back resting against pillows with her books spread out in front of her. One look at my face and she says, “Are you okay?”

“Weird afternoon, I guess.”

She pats the spot next to her, shoving the books aside.

“I am all ears.”

“It’s… well, my mom.”

“What’s the matter?” Paige sits up straighter.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “She was up. When we got home from the park, she was all like ‘where were you?’ and ‘want meatloaf for dinner?’ I thought I was dreaming or something. How can she act like the last months haven’t happened?”

“Maybe she’s finally woken up.”

“I won’t hold my breath.” It’s out before I know it, and a large lump forms in my throat. Do I really feel that way? Or do I just want to prepare myself in case she checks out again?

“Are you even a little happy about it?”

I shrug. “I’m scared to get my hopes up. Does it really happen in just one day? Suddenly she’s back and acts like none of it ever happened? I just don’t know how to feel about it, or even how I’m supposed to feel.”

“Totally get you,” she says, sliding a few inches on the bed. “She did lose her husband—”

“I lost my dad,” I push out, and suddenly everything I think during my sixty seconds a day spills out. “Does that give me the right to go into myself and ignore everything else because I can’t deal? No. It doesn’t. When you’re an adult and have children you have responsibilities. You can’t just ignore them and hope they’ll be okay. What would have happened to Josh if I hadn’t been there to take care of him? What about our house? The bills, the yard, the dishes, the laundry… seriously, I do everything, and I’m seventeen. I’m a junior in high school and I’m living as if I’m forty-five and have all these responsibilities no one prepared me for. I shouldn’t be dealing with this now, but I am.”

Paige holds her hands up. “I’m on your side. I promise you, I’m with you, I get it, and I’m sorry. I was just trying to say that maybe there’s a difference in the types of love. I’m not trying to minimalize your loss, but have you ever been in
love
with someone? That love is different, all consuming. How long were your parents together? Twenty years? That’s a long time to be with someone, and when they die even harder to be without them. I’m not sure if normalcy will come back one day and she’ll be okay forever, or if she’ll find a picture or a shoe or something of your dad’s and then check out again. That’s the risk I think when you fall in love with someone.”

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t check out if Tyler…” I stop short, my words slamming into my chest
hard
.

“What was that?” Paige says, eyebrows high on her forehead.

I clear my throat. “I… I was just saying… you have a point. I mean, I’m not in love with Tyler… but…” My voice slips off into oblivion, and my brain balloons, heart thuds, and I can’t stop fidgeting. It feels like I’m sinking, going down with the ship, calling it a day because I’ve fallen completely in love with Tyler, and I don’t know how it happened.

A huge smile breaks out on her face, and before I can tell her
no way, I’m not one of those girls I swear
she bounces up and down and says, “You’re. In.
Love
!” She wraps her arms around me and gives me a big hug.

“What? No! Get off me,” I say, wishing my face wasn’t as pink as Pepto Bismol.

She pulls back and looks at me. “Have you told him?”

“No, Paige, I’m not—”

“Or did he tell you?”

“Paige, we’re not—”

“This is so—”

“Paige! It’s
too
soon
.” But as the words slip out I think maybe I’m wrong. Sometimes when he looks at me, I think he wants to tell me
something
. It couldn’t be that, though. Right?

“I think you should tell him,” she says as we settle back into the pillows.

I growl at her, wanting to pop that grin off her face, but I can’t. Because my stomach is on a skydive, my heart is on a round of bumper cars, and suddenly my brain catches up to the rest of me, and oh my freaking hell, I’m in love.

“I…I don’t want to scare him off,” I say slowly, and Paige squeals with my
teensy
confession. I sigh and turn toward her. “His little sister did say he loved me though,” I say, steering the conversation to Tyler and as if he fell first. It’s bogus, since I don’t know if he’s fallen at all.

“What?”

“She said Ariel and Prince Eric weren’t supposed to love each other but they did. Just like us.”

“How old is his sister?”

“Like six.”

“Going on sixteen.”

“And then Tyler told us about the feud. The reason why Trojans and Skyhawks can’t date.”

“Oh yeah. That girl football player love triangle.”

“How did you know?”

“How did you not know?” She pauses, playing with the corner of her pillowcase. “Kind of hits it close to home, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s a Trojan football player. You’re a Skyhawk—not a player but a fan. Your cousin is a Skyhawk player and if he finds out you’re with a Trojan he’ll—”

“He won’t do anything,” I say. “Sure, he’ll pitch a fit, but I think he’s got too much on his own plate to worry about whatever I’m doing.”

Paige gives me that look… the one that says “whatever” without her actually saying it. I stick my tongue out at her.

“I promise we’ll be careful. He won’t find out.”

***

When I get home, I start my normal routine: turn lights off, check on Josh, check on Mom. I send Brad a text to see if he’s crashing, and he says he’s okay tonight, so I lock the doors before heading upstairs.