The Keeper's Vow (16 page)

“GET OUT OF
MY ROOM
!”

It was thirty minutes before she opened her
room door and peeked down the hall. He was gone. Completely. She
sat down on her bed next to her packed duffle bag. It overflowed
with clothes, a tube of play-dough, her first edition,
Peter
Pan
, and her “Hang In There” kitty poster. She was kidding
herself. How long could this last. She wasn’t adult-enough to run
away. Adults packed essential things. Adults
had
essential
things. Where was she running away to? Lucinda’s? Sure, they’d take
her, but it wasn’t her home anymore. She couldn’t sit around all
day in pajamas collecting cereal bowls in front of the TV. They
didn’t watch Star Wars from start to finish on random weekends.
Lucinda would never try eating Flaming-Cheetos and sardines for
dinner.

Katie breathed back the tears that were
welling up inside of her. He still hadn’t even called. He wasn’t
supposed to actually let her run away. He was supposed to be here
when she got back. Angry, but glad she was okay. For the second
time in her life she hated him.

She hugged her pillow and laid against her
headboard. She needed to be angry again. Angry was always better
than crying like an idiot.

Her phone rang. She jumped up and searched
her room. It was under her duffle bag. Her heart sank when she saw
Lucinda’s name.

“Hello?”

“Katie. Hi, Sweetheart. I hope you’re
excited for the Preliminaries this morning”

“Well—”

“I don’t mean to cut you off sweetie, but I
need to know if you’ve seen Tristan?” There was a light strain in
her voice. Katie left her room and looked through the house for
Tristan. Her heart sank. Lucinda was obviously worried about the
self-sufficient-totally-independent nephew who didn’t show up last
night. Her dad didn’t even send a text message.
Father of the
year goes to—

“Uh,” Katie looked in the living room. She
didn’t know what to say. The whole truth? A half-truth? A lie?

“Katie, have you seen him? What’s going
on?”

“Well, I did see him—” She opened the front
door. To do what? Look up and down the street? Why couldn’t she
just tell the truth?

“Katie? Katie, do you know something? Katie,
talk to me.”

She didn’t have to say anything. He was
sitting there on her porch. Katie handed him the phone.

She could still hear Lucinda on the other
end. “
Katie
?”

“She’s not here at the moment but I can give
her the phone back,” Tristan said, looking unenthused. “No, I
stayed out late—I don’t have a cell phone—Katalina has a weird
thing about people using her phone—I’m not at her house, she just
so happened to find me. We’re at a bar—I’m kidding. I’m kidding—It
was more funny than you’re giving credit to.” He held the phone
away from his ear and rolled his eyes. “I’m not a kid—fine,
whatever—I’m not going to the Preliminaries—well I don’t have a
change of clothes—are you serious? I can wash my own
clothes—I—Okay—OKAY.” Tristan handed the phone to Katie.

“—This is completely unacceptable. It may
come as a surprise to you, but people
worry
about you. Do
you understand me?” Lucinda’s voice was high pitched and thin.

Katie tried to hand the phone back to
Tristan. He ignored her.

“Hello? Tristan? Tristan?”

“Hi,” Katie said in a small voice. “He—”

“I’ll see you
both
at the school nine
o’clock sharp.” Lucinda hung up.

The only thing that pissed Lucinda off that
much was politics. Now, Katie was implemented in the disappearance
of Tristan. “Please, try not to make her fly of the handle. At the
moment I’m very homeless and in need of a place to stay.”

“Are you kidding me? That woman smothers.
We’re better off sleeping in parks.”

The streets were busy as they walked to the
school. Katie felt like everyone knew she was running away. Her
book-bag was full to the brim with toiletries and knick-knacks, and
her duffle bag full of resentment, guilt, and play dough. By the
time they arrived at the school her shoulder hurt and she felt a
little annoyed that Tristan hadn’t offered to help her as she
fumbled around with both bags.

“Pack lighter next time,” he said, walking
up the steps. The school was busy. People chatting in groups,
mainly adults.

“I don’t plan on making this a regular
thing.”

He grabbed the duffle bag from her and she
almost fell over.

“Easy!” she said, nearly bumping into a lady
laughing like a horse.

“Do you want it back?”

Why was he like that? As soon as he seemed
tolerable, maybe even pleasant to be around, he’d turn back into a
giant turd.

“Tristan! Katie!” Lucinda called from
somewhere. It was amazing how easy it was to recognize someone’s
voice when the very sound of it put you on edge. She was still
pissed and it was written all over her face when Katie saw her
marching up from the crowd. She was carrying two tote-bags. “Here,”
she said to Tristan handing him the smaller of two bags. “I brought
you both a lunch,
considering you’re were probably too busy to
remember to make one.
Go get ready, the games are about to
start. We won’t be able to watch until the third event, but make
sure to eat during the lunch break. Katie, what are you wearing—I
don’t even want to know.” She handed Katie the second bag and
stalked off. Katie watched her walk to Will.

She spoke to Will and he looked up at
Tristan then Katie. He raised his eyebrows at her then the duffle
bag in Tristan’s hand. His shoulders sank. Did he know? Katie
turned around just as he started to make his way to her.

He was the one who called her dad. He said
he’d let her tell him, yet he called. He knew how her dad was. He
betrayed her. If he had let her do it on her own time, she wouldn’t
be wearing this dumb shirt or carrying around the stupid duffle bag
at stupid sports day.

When Katie walked into the gymnasium, she
was the only student not wearing this years gym shirt. It wouldn’t
have been so bad if she wasn’t the only bright blue in a sea of
deep green. Not only was she going to lose every event, but she was
also wearing her own loser flag.

Brian laughed at her while standing with his
new posse.

What a friend.

Katie was relieved when she saw Allison, but
quickly dodged behind a few parents when she saw the look of
demonic death on her face. She must have still been mad about her
dad not showing up. At first, Katie thought it a stupid thing to be
angry about. They weren’t in elementary anymore—but the more she
looked around the gymnasium the more she realized there were just
as many adults as students. Maybe everyone’s parents
did
show up. Everyone’s except hers, Allison’s, and Tristan’s.

“Excuse me!” said a voice on the loud
speaker. The Principle, Mr Boyle, was on stage looking as dumpy and
confused as ever. It was the way his eyes were shaped, they always
made him look surprised. “Okay, thank you, settle down—okay, can I
have the students all come to the front, parents to the back—just
like that, oh not you—you there in the blue. Oh you
are
a
student? My mistake—”

Katie tried her hardest to hide that her
face was starting to resemble a shiny tomato.

“You look more like someones kid sister. Do
you realize your shirt says Hamilton Middle School?” Tristan said
behind her.

“It was the only clean shirt I had!” Katie
spun around as the Principle droned on about the annual sport event
and the rules.

Katie eyed Tristan’s green shirt. It fit.
Too well, most of the boys’ shirts were loose waiting to be grown
into. His fit.

“—
Please, last year we had an issue with
marbles on the track field. I deeply encourage you from
cheating—”

“Stop staring at me,” Tristan said,
furrowing his brow.

“I’m
not
staring at you.” Katie
turned her back on him. “Your shirt is just way too tight for a
boy.”

“—
Parents, remember your place is on the
sideline not the wrestling mat. We do not want to repeat the
episode with the broken nose—”

She couldn’t get the image of his shoulders
in the shirt out of her mind. What the hell? She focused on the
butt of the boy a few people in front of her. It was plump and
cute. She squinted, focusing on it. It wasn’t
that
cute.
Actually it was a little flat.

“Christ, Katalina.”

“Then stop listening.”

“I’m trying!”

“
Shhhh
—” she heard behind them.

“—And so, I wish everyone good luck!
Remember if it hurts, you’re doing it right, if it bleeds your
doing it wrong and should get assistance right away. You know who
you are.” Mr. Boyle looked at the crowd. “Let’s get started!
1
^st
years, stay here and help
pull out the mats, 2
^nd
years
please go to the pools, 3
^rd
years if you will follow Mr. Carver to the tracks. And
4
^th
Years to the Field Study
classroom.”

The gymnasium erupted into noise and
movement. For a second, Katie wondered if she could be considered a
1
^st
year. She’d have a fighting
chance with the 9
^th
graders,
but Traci had already told her it didn’t work that way during one
of their long tutoring sessions.

The first person Katie looked for was
Tristan. She needed to stop doing that. She looked for Allison
instead. Allison wasn’t hard to find, she was the red-head charging
through the crowd to get to the back doors.

On the way to the track, Katie felt heavy.
She hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. When she saw the obstacle
course she wondered if she could feign dizziness and sit this one
out. She lost her nerve as Mr. Carver split them into five groups
and lined them up based on rank. Where did he find a green and
white checkered tracksuit?

Katie and Tristan were in the first group
and in the last lanes. He explained the obstacle course but most
students ignored him placing bets on their times. They might have
done it before, but Katie tried hard to pay attention to the order.
Was she suppose to climb the wall first, or after crawling under
the rope…or after swinging over the pit of mud?

Her stomach flipped as they got ready to
start.

Three.

She wasn’t ready for this.

Two.

She should have taken it more serious.

One.

She didn’t want to be the loser. God, she
didn’t want to lose the whole thing.

Go.

She never made it over the wall.

She could take the fact that everyone had
scaled the wall before she even reached it. She could take the fact
that she was never going to get over it. What she couldn’t take was
the way everyone’s parents cheered their kid on as Mr. Carver
shouted encouraging words for her not to give up: “—come on, Katie.
I know you have it in you—you’re a fighter!—Oh don’t let that stop
you, beat that wall! Beat it to a pulp—oh
that
was a nasty
fall. Are you okay?”

She gave up. Mr Carver wrote on his little
wooden clipboard. She sat on the track trying not to feel like an
epic loser as Tristan flew through the obstacles. He was leagues in
front of everyone and it was so effortless. He looked—bored. He
trotted to the finish line and walked towards Katie. He looked at
the wall and frowned.

Allison was second. And looking desperately
pissed when she saw Tristan. As everyone else made their way to the
finish line Katie tried to muster a smile when Brian made his way
over before the last two people. He didn’t return it.

Michael Heckler walked up to Brian gulping
down a bottle of water. “Don’t try so hard, Man.”

Brian laughed, “If I did you’d get tired of
me winning. I like to leave that to Allison.”

Michael laughed as they gave each other
high-fives. Sometimes Brian was the biggest ass Katie knew.

After everyone finished the course, they
rotated to the Field Study classroom. Katie had no idea how
everyone was supposed to fit into the classroom or what they were
expected to do in there.

“Five at a time please,” she heard a man
say, it sounded like Mr Rhineheart. And there he was looking as
dramatic as ever, waving people into the small room Katie and
Tristan had worked in on Monday. When it was her turn, Mr.
Rhineheart smiled at her. “Katie, nice to see you participating in
the sporting events. Doing well I hope.”

“Ha, something like that,” she said, walking
into the room. Allison and a few parents walked in behind her.

“Allison hit the button for me?” Mr.
Rhineheart said as he closed the door.

Allison tapped a yellow button by the door
and the room began to move.

“Woah,” Katie said, reaching to grab onto
something.

“It’s an elevator, Kay” Allison said.

“Oh.” It was strange. That was the first
thing they had said to each other all morning. So much had happened
yesterday. Normally Katie would have picked up the phone and called
Allison at the slightest bit of news—like when she decided she
wanted to dye her hair blue (lucky, Allison talked her out of
that). Now, she felt like there was nothing to tell her. Maybe
too
much had happened.

“Who knew Tristan was that wicked fast? I
could break his face.” Allison crossed her arms.

“Wha—what?”

“The race, he beat me by twenty seconds. He
totally shouldn’t be allowed to compete.”

“Why?” Katie said. She felt like she didn’t
know what to say to Allison. Like she was walking in a glass room
with giant mallets for arms. Why was she being so weird? It was
just Allison.

Allison stared at her then raised her
eyebrows.