Who is Mackie Spence? (10 page)

“Have you ever felt like you had to go to an animal when we've been in school, or maybe during dinner with your family or something?” I ask.

“That hasn't happened. I guess it could, though. Last night it didn't feel like I had a choice.”

“Maybe it won't be a problem.” I notice the smile has left her face.

“You know, I'm not going to stop living my life because of this. If it doesn't go away, it will just have to be part of who I am. Are you okay with that?” she asks, stopping our walk.

“Mackie, I'm very good with who you are,” I say, searching for her eyes in the dim light. “I'll help whenever you need me to.”

Then she hugs me, and we kiss in the moonlight, and it all seems too good to be true.

At school Monday morning, as I stow clean running gear in my locker, someone moves in next to me. Wes.

“Hey,” I say, not looking at him.

“Hey,” he echoes in an excited voice. “So what happened with you and Mackie after you left Jen's house?”

I have a feeling this is just the beginning of lots of questions about Mackie and me.

“She didn't feel well so I walked her home,” I say, sticking to Mackie's script.

“Yeah, it looked like something else.”

“What did it look like?'

“Like maybe you and Mackie have a little something going on. You two ditched pretty early.”

“Who's saying that?” I demand, hoping he hasn't been spreading some kind of story around. I don't want to be the center of gossip.

“Everyone saw you leave together. Like right after we got there. And you never came back. Hey, Mac's into you, man.”

“What makes you think she's into me?”

“She laughs at your lame jokes.”

I sock his arm, but not very hard.

“She did have a question for me,” I say.

“Yeah, what was that?”

Oops.
Wes is way too interested, and I don't want to explain that Mackie and I are going to Sadie One together. I promised her she could tell everyone.

“Gotta go,” I say looking at the hall clock. “See you at lunch.” I feel Wes' puzzled eyes on my back as I walk away.

It's a struggle to stay focused in class, even though I'm aware that Mr. Wakely likes to prowl around the room as he speaks, looking for students who aren't paying attention.

“Okay, let's see what you learned from today's assignment . . . Who can tell me the name of the Confederate commander at Fort Sumter?” Mr. Wakely pauses, his eyes searching for a victim. “Mr. Tarleton?”

Hearing my name, I have a moment of panic. Did I hear the full question? I suck in a deep breath and take a chance, “General Beauregard.”

“Correct. Now, someone tell me the name of the Union commander,” he demands moving on to another victim. “Mr. Hirshfeld, who was the Union's commander?”

I daydream more as the question and answer session continues.

After class, Wendy gives me a sly look that I can't decipher. What's up with her?

I hope it doesn't have to do with my leaving Jen's house early with Mackie.

Following an uneventful Computer Lab, I rush to the Dining Hall, drop my backpack on a seat at our still-empty table, and stand in line for lunch. When I return, Wes has taken a seat next to mine with Ty sandwiching me on the other side. Mackie, seated across from us, eyes them with a playful smile.

“Hi, Jer,” she says quietly, with an innocent look, as I sit down.

I nod back, not sure of what to say.

“Wes just asked how I was feeling,” Mackie says, catching me up. “You know, because I left Jen's party early.”

Looking away from me and back to Wes, Mackie continues without missing a beat. “I'm feeling much better, thank you. In fact, I'm so much better that I could dance. You know how to dance, right, Wes? You too, Ty?” she asks the questions innocently, looking back and forth between them. Of course she knows they dance. Or, what passes for dancing.

The guys look confused. This is exactly what Mackie has been so good at for years.
Confuse and conquer
. I know her strategy. She isn't going to let Wes push her into talking about why she left Jen's house so early.

Mackie grins at me. By this time, almost all our friends are seated and eating. I look down at my tacos, pick one up, and take a bite.

Mackie waves her arm to get Erica's attention.

“Erica, are you and Jon going to Sadie with anyone?”

Wes and Ty lean in to make sure they hear the conversation. In fact, everyone at our table has settled down, suddenly aware that something is happening. Erica shakes her head, looks at Mackie, and cocks her head to mark the question.

I take another bite of my taco.

“Then, can Jeremy and I catch a ride with you guys?” Mackie's voice sounds like she is setting things up for the four of us to have coffee after school. The way she posed the question sounds so . . . normal.

Giving her a surprised look and then darting a look at me with the same face, Erica squeals, “Oooh, that will be so much fun!” She turns to Jon, seated next to her, as everyone at our table begins buzzing at once.

Mackie looks back at Wes, smiles sweetly, and switches to her faux Southern accent. “Westerly, could I ask you to trade places with me? I'd like to ask Jeremy a little question about our English assignment.”

Wes flashes a grin at me and stands up. “Sure, no problem,” he says.

Ty's mouth hangs open.

Of course, Jen and Erica get up from their seats and speed over to talk excitedly with Mackie about the dance. When did she ask me? What will she wear? Blah. Blah.

The guys shake their heads at me with accusing looks. I didn't tell them. They've had had to hear it from Mackie.

I smile at Wes. “Angela?” I ask.

He nods, a big grin growing on his face.

While Mackie converses with the girls, Ty endorses me with a thumbs-up.

I chuckle. It's all too crazy.
Yeah, crazy-good!

After lunch, Mackie and I walk out of the Dining Hall together and head for our English Literature class. The corridor is full of fast-moving people and bouncing noise.

“Are you okay with what I did? I mean about us going with Erica and Jon?” she asks, as we move beyond our friends.

“Oh, yeah. No one even questioned us about leaving Jen's party early. It was all about the dance,” I reply.

“But that's not why I asked you. You know that, right?” she asks, concern spilling out of her brown eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, and I hope so. Because I know that, besides being very cool and smart, Mackie has another skill. I've watched her over the years. She knows how to set things up to her advantage. Like when she told me to call Jen and make an excuse for our leaving the party. She'd come up with a story to cover our exit with almost no effort. I don't want to believe her asking me to the dance figured into any of that. In fact, I feel lucky to be going with her.

English and French classes over, I walk Mackie downstairs to her locker.

“Will you call me after I finish at the shelter?” she asks.

Nodding, I say goodbye, and hustle to my chemistry class. When class is done, I head to the gym locker room for cross-country practice.

I change into my workout clothes and am putting my shoes on when Brody sits himself next to me on the bench.
Oh, here we go.

“Tarleton. I hear you're going to Sadie with Mackie. What's that about?”

“She asked me.”

“Out of nowhere she just asked you? I don't think so. How long have you two been hanging?” Brody's mouth is a straight, unhappy line in his face. He opens and closes his fists. He looks mean.

“We're not hanging. And if we are? So what?”

“You don't want to go there. You think we're not going to have a problem?”

“According to Mackie, she's not with you. You're with Jilly. Right?” My heart sounds like it's ringing in my ears.

“Don't get cute with me, T-Man,” Brody says, his voice ratcheting up in volume as his lips twist. A couple of the guys turn to watch us.

“Look,” I say, in as calm a voice as I can manage. “Like I said, she asked me. Why do you care?”

“Because you said you didn't know if she was seeing anyone. You're lying to me, you sack of shit.”

“Nothing was going on then. If it had been, I'd have said so, because I don't see how it's a big deal. Or is it? Are you still hung up on her?”

He doesn't answer and stomps off.

I look over at the other guys and shrug.

“If you had any 'nads, you'd punch him,” Cole says.

I stare at him. Cole should think about his own gonads.

Out on the track's practice field, Coach has his hands on his hips, kind of rolling them to ease the joints.

He calls out to us, “Come on, come on. Just because we took Riley Park doesn't mean we can lollygag. Does anyone have a problem? No? Good. Listen up. You're doing tempo runs today. Same route as always. I want everyone back here in forty-five minutes. Twenty minutes after four, gentlemen. Now let's go.”

I begin running with a loose stride, heading for a nearby island park with trails and woods. The air is cool and dry, more like fall than summer. After my talk with Brody I feel the urge to run hard, but that isn't at all what Coach wants today.

I ease into my warm-up pace, planning to reach peak speed in about twenty minutes. I'll run hard for at least five minutes and slide back down the cycle. For a while, I coast behind Ryan and Cole. Then they increase their pace and disappear around a curve in the trees.

How does Mackie heal animals? I've read about people who train or live with pets and develop an intuitive connection, but never one that involves spontaneous healing.

In the third minute of my peak, a hard shove from behind bounces me off a Doug fir. I land on the ground, on my face.

“Uhhh.” My breath pops out of my mouth in a gust.

As I scramble to my feet, Brody moves ahead on the trail. He looks back to make sure I see his smile. My arm burns from where I've hit rough tree bark, and my face feels hot.

I try to catch up with him, wanting to return the shove, but he has the advantage and is too far ahead of me.

How am I going to deal with this? I've wrestled with Jon, Wes, and Ty growing up, but we've never thrown serious punches. Staying away from Mackie isn't an option, though. How can I get Brody off my back? So much for a nice afternoon run.

Back at the practice field, I stretch out and cool down with Ben.

“Great day,” he says, smiling up at the sun in a cloudless sky. Being with Ben is settling, something I need as I watch Brody cowboying around with some of the guys.

Coach claps his hands and asks, “Any problems?” He looks us over. “Good, then get dressed and get out of here. Tomorrow we run intervals.”

He starts to walk away then turns back. “Our trophy and ribbons should be here Friday. Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

Everyone heads back to the locker room. Unable to contain my anger, I approach Brody as we near the building. He acts like nothing is unusual, and keeps walking with Cole. But Cole backs away when he sees the look on my face.

“Why did you do that?” I ask Brody, my voice rough with anger.

“Don't act like you don't know why,” he growls. “How long have you been seeing Mackie?”

“She's been my friend for years.”

“You lied to me.”

“Nothing happened until this weekend when she asked me to the dance. That's two months after she stopped seeing you. What's your problem?”

“Oh, so now you want a piece of her?” he asks.

“Don't talk about her like that.”

Brody grabs the front of my shirt.

I snap, pushing back with both my hands on his chest. We end up tangled, on the ground, punching each other.

We fight for maybe fifteen seconds before I hear Coach's voice above us. “Cameron! Tarleton! My office. Now!”

We lay on the ground. My lower left rib and jaw hurt. Brody has hit me hard. I search his face, hoping I've hurt him, too. The pain in my right hand tells me yes. Yes, I have.

“You're a dickhead,” Brody hisses at me.

“Brody, shut it,” Coach growls. “I sure hope you two can get up, because I'm not going to help you.” Then he turns his back on us, and heads into the building.

A few of the guys stand off to the side, watching. Ben walks over and gives me a hand up, his eyes wide as he looks from me to Brody.

I walk ahead of Brody, into Coach's office. The guys are wound up about the fight. I hear Cole say, “If Jeremy had any 'nads . . .”

Coach sits behind his beat-up metal desk in his cinderblock office. He motions for us to be seated in a couple of straight-backed chairs facing the desk. Then he opens the thermos on his desk and pours himself a cup of coffee. He is not smiling.

“So what's this all about?”

Neither of us speaks.

“Okay, tough guys. No talking, no running. That's the deal. Either we settle this now or you're both off the team. What's it going to be?”

“Brody's got a problem because his ex asked me to Sadie One,” I grumble.

“Asshole,” Brody shoots back.

“I'm not going to warn you another time about your language,” Coach says, looking grimly at Brody.

“So, you boys figure the way to resolve this is to duke it out. That's very manly of you. Did you stop to think that would get you kicked off the team? No? Well, then you're not thinking today. Are you?”

He takes another swallow from his cup. “Here's what's going to happen. Sadie One's girls' choice, right? So you're going to let the girl choose. If she wants to go to the dance with Jeremy, then that's the way it is. Brody, you can't decide by yourself that someone's your girlfriend. It's a mutual thing. Got it? Jeremy, I sure hope you know what you're doing because dating the ex of a teammate is a recipe for disaster. But that's up to you.”