Absolutely (Larson) Page 10

  I got out of that lousy Jeep as soon as it was in park.

  I'm walking up to the school when Kiel grabs me before I can get inside. As if I’d not already caused a scene.

  I can’t help but wear my heart on me sleeve. When he leans down, I am expecting anything else but what he says. My body starts to tingle as the crowds of students disappear around us. I don’t think I'm breathing. Kiel offers CPR.

  I could be ok with that.

  All stealth smoothness, his hand steadily makes its way around my waist. We move in sync to our lockers…where Reyna launches herself at me from outta nowhere. She’s threatening me. What? I'm not the narc, but telling her that won’t change anything. She wants it to be me, so it’ll be me.

  Kiel makes his presence known to Reyna. Her tune changes, but the song doesn’t. Reyna, the idiot, tries to play it off like she's all talk. All the while, I feel Kiel’s hand slowly inching its way off of me. There he goes, cutting out again! He’s like a bad circuit.

  Reyna leaves in a huff, but not before I catch the evil eye from her. But that wink was definitely for Kiel. I tamp down jealousy. We’re not dating; we’re not anything.

  I let out a sigh and go to gather my books. Only, there's a gift that’s been left for me. Three tiny bottles of liquor sit atop my things.

  “Ok, really?” I ask rhetorically, going to reach for them.

  “No, don’t touch them!” Kiel’s voice stops me. I didn’t even realize he had stayed behind me. “Don’t move.” I see him pull up Miller on his phone and hit the dial icon.

  “Hey, Miller, can you bring Coach Turner and the principal to my locker?... Thanks, man.”

  “What now?” I ask, confused. What good could possibly come from this?

  “Just wait it out with me,” he insists. The halls clear and we wait, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall. He smiles, trying to reassure me, but it’s weak. Soon the two men are heading this way. Kiel stops them and prefaces my newest personal apocalypse with, “Before I show you what’s in locker 325, you have to listen to me.”

  They look perplexed but both nod.

  “Coach, you know Ashlyn. You know she was not involved Friday night, right?”

  “Yes. Both you and Miller as well as Mr. Lyle said as much.”

  “So you know, what’s in this locker is not hers. But I need to know that you’ll have it taken by the police for fingerprints before anyone charges her. She has that right.”

  “Is it a gun?” the principal, Mr. Goodson, booms. Kiel rolls his eyes.

  “No! Focus. I need your promise. She was just threatened verbally to ‘watch’ her back by a student who thinks Ashlyn is the narc from Friday night.”

  “You better show us, son,” Mr. Goodson barks.

  “Coach?” Kiel says. “You know Ashlyn.”

  “Mr. Goodson, Fuller’s right. Whatever he’s about to show us, Miss Ramos is innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Just innocent,” Kiel says. “But I have to have your promises. So far only the parents know about the pre-game wet bar. Sounds like they want to keep it quiet.”

  “You blackmailing us, Mr. Fuller?” the principal says.

  “No, sir. Are you promising me?”

  The coach and principal eye each other and nod.

  “Yes, Mr. Fuller. We promise to do our due diligence. It’ll be handled appropriately. Coach Turner, go ahead and call the authorities. Have them keep it quiet. Open the locker, Miss Ramos.”

  Crap. Kiel’s faith was in these two men. And I'm panicking, almost in tears. There won’t be much of a life for me after this goes down. Thankfully, Coach Turner asks for no sirens from the police car.

  I turn to open my locker and Mr. Goodson harrumphs. True to his word, though, he keeps silent and steps back.

  I stand there numb as we wait for the officers to arrive. And when they do, pictures are taken, the bottles removed with plastic-gloved hands, and placed in evidence bags.

  They tell Mr. Goodson that we have to come to the station for statements. Yeah, right. It’s easier to arrest someone who’s already in custody. If I’d had to guess where my morning was going at any point, it wouldn’t have been this. Not by a longshot. Major suckfest.

  The high point? That Kiel and I share the backseat of the squad car. Although he tries to lend comfort with his arm across my shoulder, I don’t lean in. I'm tense knowing my parents will be called in. Not to mention the texts I’ll have to answer from Jenna and D'Nae.

  ***

  Mom and Dad walk with me ominously through the process. One bright side to the dark cloud that is my life, I'm already in the system from some safety thing Mom did when I was younger. No fingerprinting necessary. I doubt this is what she had in mind when she had it done.

  Heck, this is still better than being abducted, right? Maybe I can work that angle?

  ***

  Who was I kidding? I sit, all angles aside and take whatever my parents are about to dish out. I feel guilty even though I'm completely innocent. I've already given my official statement. Now I tell them the whole story which reads like the script to the Spanish soap operas my grandma watches. (I may not be able to understand them, but I know drama when I see it.) They're not buying it.

  “Mom, I swear this isn’t ‘Girls Gone Wild.’ I'm dead serious when I tell you I'm being stalked by Reyna! This isn’t CSI; I don’t have a case full of evidence. It’s freaking high school!”

  I do what I've been dreading. I dig out the stack of pictures from my purse. Maybe I'm not the cleanest teen. I've been meaning to take those out.

  “That is what I keep finding taped to my locker. You can ask Kiel. He’s taken a few down himself, I think. And I know he’s seen them there.”

  I don’t see it coming—Mom is out of her seat and out the door, shouting for an officer. The Mom storm rages at the officer who accidentally steps into it. Dad sits calmly like it’ll all end soon enough. The storm finally turns back to me when the officer is allowed to get a few words in edgewise.

  “How long has this been going on Ashlyn Claire? This is bullying! Have they not taught you to report this kind of thing? All the anti-bullying literature out there and you keep this to yourself? You didn’t even tell us!”

  “Mom—” I try.

  “No, Ashlyn,” my dad says, “Your mom is right. You should have come to us and we wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Honestly, Dad, if I had come to you, yeah, we would still be here. Just not for this. They’d probably have settled for kicking my—”

  The door opens and another officer walks in. He gets right to the point. “The prints on the bottles aren’t hers,” he addresses my parents like I'm not in the room. “Unfortunately, they belong to at least one of her classmates.”

  “Um, I'm right here,” I say and raise my hand, my mouth taking over for my brain again. I get patronizing looks from all the adults in the room. I shut my mouth and slump down in my barely padded seat. Like I said earlier, suckfest.

  Chapter 10

  Kiel

  Ashlyn’s locker opens to reveal the last thing I expected those clowns to sink to. I stop her from touching the stupid things. This crap has to stop. She decides to trust me and leaves them alone. She won’t like what I'm about to do.

  The pictures are one thing. The rumors, just words. Bringing alcohol onto campus? That goes beyond bullying and straight to criminal behavior. I call in the big guns. The principal and my coach. The first because he’s a necessity, the second because I trust him.

  We have to play this right. She could get arrested, expelled, her life changed dramatically.

  When the cavalry arrives, I get them to do things my way. I know the laws and I know my rights. Ashlyn’s not even trying for a poker face. She's tearing up and panicking. It could work in her favor. We all stand around waiting with the offending contraband staring at us.

  A few kids in the hall see us and make note of the serious looks on our faces. That’s the way rumors get started.

&n
bsp; Ashlyn is a magnet for trouble. Or maybe I was the magnet and Ashlyn wound up stuck to me.

  ***

  In the cop car, she’s distant. Can’t say I blame her. I allowed her to be dragged to the police station. How to explain that I'm about to go through the gates of hell myself with parents who thought this was all behind them? They’ve seen enough of the inside of these places.

  Sure enough, they're waiting just inside for me, right beside Ashlyn’s parents (I assume, as I've never met them).

  Sadly, this is not new to my parents, except for the fact that I'm not cuffed. Ashlyn and I are separated into our own interrogation rooms. In Larson, Texas, they're a little bigger than a walk-in closet. The officers are forced to bring in some fold-up chairs for my parents. Like a good son (not the arrested variety), I give the cushioned chair to Mom.

  I tell an officer my side of the story and what little background I have firsthand. Not much. Everything else I know is basically hearsay. It’s up to Ashlyn to fill in the blanks.

  The officer finishes writing and excuses himself.

  My parents still aren’t happy even after hearing the story. “Kiel, what have you gotten yourself involved in? Or is it who?”

  “Mom,” I say carefully. But she’s not ready to be placated.

  “Is it that girl? The one Lili keeps talking about? The one you were staring at?”

  “What girl?” Dad asks, confused. “The one you came in with? What’s this all about, son?”

  “We moved here to get him away from all the trouble of a big city, and he goes and finds it!” Mom explodes.

  “Veronica, we don’t know what’s happened. Keep calm,” my dad says. Even I know it’s the wrong thing to say. Now we’re both in for it.

  “We’re in a police station!” she yells, then switches over to Spanish. Don’t get me wrong, I understand Spanish. Mom, however, is speaking at chipmunk speed. I'm frustrated. Dad has learned to sit through it. He can’t speak with or understand her.

  Finally, head in her hands, her hands around a mysteriously appearing rosary, she quiets. Now, we have to let her talk it out with God. There’s nothing to do but wait.

  “Mijo,” she finally peers up at me. “Why?”

  “I couldn’t stand by and watch her go down for something that stupid. That could’ve gotten her kicked out of school. I'm like a Good Samaritan. You know, without the beaten and robbed part.”

  That only makes Mom glare at me. So much for Bible-class logic.

  “Should I have waited for her to get beaten up before I helped, Mom? Dad? Would you have?” I ask Dad directly. “This was the right thing to do. Ashlyn doesn’t have many people she can trust.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back.

  “Regardless—” Mom starts.

  I sit straight up, upset, “No, Mom, not regardless! I’d do it again. If she needs me again tomorrow, I'll stand by her.”

  Once I finish, Dad says, “Kiel, I think you did the right thing here.” I glance at my mom waiting for her to throw a shoe at Dad or go off in Spanish. She’s strangely silent. Could that be reluctant agreement in her eyes?

  “Oh, corazon,” she says, meaning ‘her heart,’ and pulls me into a bear hug. “I'm just so worried about you. We both are.” I'm going to take that as forgiveness. A few minutes later, she asks, “Do you like this girl?”

  “She has a name, Mom. Ashlyn,” I say.

  “Ok,” she says exasperated. “Do you like Ashlyn?”

  Her mom radar is on full-force and zeroed in on me. Mom watches closely, but I don’t answer, crossing my arms instead.

  “She’s really pretty,” she says, trying to draw me out. She smiles and says, “I think she would make beautiful babies with big eyes and—”

  She knows she has me cornered. If I don’t talk, she’ll keep going. “Yes, Mom. I like her. Yes, she's pretty. What else do you want to know? No, we’re not dating. No, I haven’t asked her give you grandbabies! Happy?”

  Dad is smirking and staring over at a particularly boring Choking/Ahoga poster.

  “Ahhh,” she sighs. “When are you bringing Ashlyn over to meet us?”

  “Veronica,” Dad warns. “Don’t push him.” What they don’t know is how bad I want to bring her over. I just need to get my butt in gear and do it. It’s on my agenda for today. At least it was before all this crap got in the way.

  How convenient that we’re both stuck in this hole.

  A few minutes pass and we’re informed by the same officer that questioned me that I'm free to go. Our stories checked out.

  It’s past lunch time and my Jeep is still at school. Dad drives me to get it. I ask if I can skip the rest of the day in light of the situation. Dad agrees. The officers have the fingerprints to make an arrest or two. I hope to all that’s holy that Ashlyn doesn’t go back to school today. Maybe not even tomorrow.

  As soon as I get in my Jeep, I call her mom. Of all things, I still don’t have her number. Gotta fix that…

  ***

  Ashlyn

  They ask a few more questions and Mom shows them the pictures—noooo!—then we’re released. There’s not much evidence for harassment. I'm hoping it stays that way.

  I take the time to text Jenna and D'Nae, letting them know not to worry. D'Nae texts back quickly.

  What’s going on?

  Don’t tell anyone else but they're letting us go. I'll call u guys later, I tell her.

  Needless to say that just brought on more questions and a phone call that I reject with an “I'm in a meeting” message. Ha ha. Meeting. Right.

  Dad stops me and gives me a tight hug. “You’ve had a rough few weeks, sweetie. I'm sorry about all this.”

  “It’s not your fault, Dad,” I reply.

  “It’s not all yours either,” he states and releases me. He hugs my mom and heads off. He’s really an amazing man.

  I get in the car with Mom as her phone rings. She answers and says, surprised, “Oh, hi Kiel…Yes, she’s right here…She does have her phone, I think. Sure…You, too. Bye.” Mom hangs up and winks at me. “He just earned more points.” We finally drive off from the station.

  Mom passes me her phone and tells me to pull up Kiel’s number. “He wants you to call him.”

  What can I say to him? He keeps saving me; something he’ll have to continue doing once we get back to school. I dial his number with that thought heavy on my mind.

  “Hello,” he answers, obviously expecting it to be me.

  “Hey, it’s Ashlyn,” I say needlessly.

  “Are you going back to school?”

  “I haven't asked yet.” So I ask and relay Mom’s response to Kiel. “She says no.” Thank God!

  “What are your plans for the rest of the day? Because, um, I'm not going back either,” he says and then less confidently, continues, “Maybe we could do something or just hang out…Or whatever.”

  “Um,” I stall. “Let me ask.” I cover my phone’s microphone and ask Mom if I can do ‘something, hang out, or whatever’ with Kiel. Her eyes go all happy-shiny and she nods.

  “Mom says yes. What are we gonna do?”

  “I'm heading to your house, so we can decide when I get there.”

  “Sounds good,” I say, feeling anxious all the sudden. Hey, at least I still look good today; that hasn’t changed. Didn’t even smear my makeup under questioning.

  We say good-bye to each other. My mom’s goofy grin is ridiculous.

  This whole situation is ridiculous.

  ***

  Kiel’s Jeep, with him gracing the driver’s seat, is parked in front of our house. Mom has to leave to go back to work. Exhibiting an extreme amount of trust, she drives off with only a wave.

  I stand awkwardly where I got out of the car. Kiel, recognizing my awkwardness for exactly what it is—indecision—he gets out to join me.

  “I, um,” I start, “I'm not sure whether to thank you or hit you…”

  “Which instinct is stronger? That’ll tell me how close I can get to you.”


  I have to laugh. “To thank you, I think.”

  “Do you hit hard?” he asks, looking at me askance. Laughing again, I shake my head.

  He walks up in front of me, closing the gap, and takes my hands in his. “There, you can’t hit me now. No kicking, either,” he warns. I giggle.

  “I'll try,” I promise, smiling up at him. The feel of his hands holding mine is unbelievable. Who knew being restrained by him could be so intimate? As good as it is, I'm waiting for him to run; his M.O. when things start getting too real.

  The feelings of contentment are pushing out the reasons I have to hit him. I keep reminding myself, but it’s really no use. He breaks the silence, but not our gaze.

  “That’s settled. I'm thinking we should have lunch. I know this perfect little place downtown…” Kiel says.

  I interrupt him, “There's only one place downtown,” I say with no small amount of pride. This town may be dreary and dull, but that restaurant is special.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Absolutely. I'm starving.”

  “Come on.” He tilts his head toward the Jeep. “Can I trust you if I release one hand?”

  “Yup,” I answer. But as soon as Kiel lets go, I swat him on the arm. He flinches for my benefit, not any sort of pain. I lessen the blow by looking up at him and saying softly, “Thank you.”

  Using the one hand he still has captive, he pulls me up to him. Up against his chest, I feel his heartbeat. I gaze into his chocolate brown eyes. I wonder if my face shows as much passion as his does. If so, clothes could come off, right here in my front yard.

  Kiel is leaning in, his lips brush my ear and he whispers, “Remember what I confessed to you this morning? It’s ‘soon’ and it’s happening right here.” He meets my eyes again.

  “Right here?” I breathe out, barely audible. I'm caught in his gaze.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs and he brings his lips to mine, never closing his eyes. In case I decline? Not happening.

  Our lips meet and we’re quick to sync up. His full lips are soft with just a bit of rough. The kisses are tender with a hint of desperation. Mine or his, I'm not sure. Maybe both of ours. I'm still afraid he’ll turn tail and run. He’s afraid of something too…