Absolutely (Larson) Read online

  Reyna and I were supposed to be co-captains. That’s probably not happening now, but I'm not sure how it’ll go down.

  There are several extra bruises on my legs and arms afterward. “Oopsy!” was the apology of choice. As we’re about to leave, Reyna gets our sponsor’s attention.

  “Mrs. Lindsey? Um, I don’t know how to bring this up, but can a DUI get someone kicked off the squad?”

  “That’s a good question, Miss Castro. If it did happen, it would,” Mrs. Lindsey states, “Miss Ramos, we do need to discuss some things.”

  She has a super serious expression that kind of scares me. She motions for me to follow inside to her office and take a seat across from her. She sits at her desk and steeples her fingers. In her mid-forties, she’s pretty fit and still has no gray.

  She begins, “Miss Ramos, did you actually get a DUI?”

  “No, ma’am,” I answer quickly, “My blood-alcohol levels were very low. I got a moving violation.” Oops, I may have said too much there. I cringe internally.

  “So you admit to drinking that night?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” No use lying at this point. Even though everyone else was as well, I happened to get caught.

  “Despite the fact that there was no DUI, I don’t think we can take this lightly,” she says, sounding preachy. “I think the best decision is to keep you on the squad, but not allow you to be co-captain.”

  This isn’t what I want to hear. This is a total and complete suckfest. But I keep my indignation in check. I want to kick, scream, hit stuff. I really wanna cry. Scratch that—I am crying. More from the unfairness of it all. Reyna, drunken betrayer that she is, will have the title of captain all to herself.

  Mrs. Lindsey passes me a box of tissues and asks me something. I just nod, not caring what she’s saying. I leave in disgrace.

  Dad is there to pick me up and I climb dejectedly into the car. I'm not even bothering to hide my emotions as I blow my nose noisily into a tissue.

  “Hey, mija,” he says, worried. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “What happened?”

  I relate to him the crappiness of my day. He sighs and squeezes my shoulder again. I guess he doesn’t have any sage advice for me. When we’re in the driveway, he finally speaks.

  “You know, mija, some people are just not meant to be lawbreakers or bad girls. They’re meant to be good girls. That’s you Ashlyn. Your friend, Reyna? She knows how to be a bad girl. She knows how and when to cut her losses. What do they say? Get while the getting is good? You don’t want to be like her, do you?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Do you understand, Ashlyn?”

  “Yeah, I do now,” I say. Dad gets out of the car, leaving me with my thoughts.

  The thought that sucks the most is that Reyna won’t get caught because her very nature is inherently manipulative and sneaky. Why have I never seen it before?

  My mind starts going back to all the instances where I probably turned a blind eye. I’ve never cared because her malice had never been directed at me. I feel sort of responsible for my ignorance. I'm far from the first person in human history to wake up to the fact that my best friend’s a total jerk.

  There was a birthday party in third grade, I don’t remember whose, but Reyna wasn’t invited. That next week, she spilled chocolate milk all over the poor girl, then spaghetti. It always looked like an accident and she’d even had other girls do it. Kept her nose clean by delegating.

  In sixth grade, Shara Todd got asked to the winter dance by J.T. Leman. Reyna was painfully jealous. She’d wanted J.T. to ask her. I'm still not one hundred percent sure what happened the night of the dance, since I was with a group of girls actually dancing. All I know is Shara ran out of the gym and didn’t hang out with us anymore. Reyna would laugh when she’d pass her in the hall.

  There are more—many more than I’d like to remember—stuffed back in my memory. But here I am, just as complicit because I had never put the puzzle together.

  And now I knew what those other girls (and some boys) went through.

  “Ugh!” I holler. I hit the dashboard with my fists, then regret it. “Ow!” People in movies look so smooth when they punch surfaces, but it freaking hurts! They should Don’t-try-this-at-home disclaimer those stupid scenes.

  ***

  When I eventually make it in, Brisa sees me and gives me a sympathetic look as she chops onions. I toss my backpack in a chair and go help her. They know better than to let me cook, but I can do prep work.

  Brisa hands over the knife and says, “I heard, Ash. What they're saying is stupid. Ignore them and focus on making new friends. Reyna’s a—”

  Dad walks in and Bri clamps her mouth shut.

  “It’s alright, Bri, I told him. She tried to get me kicked off the squad today. Thank God I didn’t get a DUI or I would’ve been. As it is, I can’t be co-captain. Reyna’s got it all to herself now.” I'm close to whining and I play off the onion oils as the reason for my tears.

  “What are you gonna do, Ash?” Brisa asks quietly.

  “I'm going to cheer. I'm not going to let this crap get to me. I can’t. It’s my senior year.” I don’t sound convincing. In fact, it’s going whiny again. I'm going to take Brisa’s advice, though. New friends are in order. I'm gonna need them.

  ***

  Kiel

  When Ashlyn had left the locker room yesterday after meeting with Mrs. Lindsey, I could see that she had been crying. I don’t really know much about her except what I've seen and heard. But I know when I saw her cry, it was a low point in my day.

  This morning, she catches up to me a bit sooner, and we’re walking together again. My ear buds are in, music cranked. Mom says I'm going to be deaf before I turn 18. In a few months, she’ll be wrong. I smile. It’ll probably be before I turn 21, however. I love my mom.

  Ashlyn is asking me something, so I have to take out an ear bud and ask her, “Repeta, por favor.” Her blank stare has me translating, “Repeat, please.” She really needs to focus in Spanish.

  “Oh. So, what are you smiling about?” she asks again and grins.

  “I love my mom.” I say it without thinking it through and replace my ear bud. But Ashlyn’s still talking.

  “Huh?” I mumble.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup. I don’t joke about my mom,” I answer. That’s serious business to me. I try to end the conversation with my music. Probably extremely rude of me. Mom would not be proud. I frown.

  There she goes again! Working to keep her mouth shut, her eyes darting to my face then back to the sidewalk. I want to laugh so bad at her dilemma.

  Ashlyn loses the battle with herself three blocks later. As usual, her first try to be heard fails, and I have to ask, “What was that?”

  I note that I'm running out of creative ways to get her to repeat herself. Because she obviously isn’t deterred by my attempts to ignore her.

  “I said, why’d you frown?” she asks smiling and looking to me expectantly.

  Um, I don’t want to answer that one. I shrug and replace my ear bud. Her face falls as disappointment clouds her eyes. The rest of the walk is blessedly quiet, but it’s not a comfortable silence.

  At my locker, I look over to see her peeling off another picture that she thinks she puts in her purse. It falls to the ground. I pick it up when she walks off. It’s a picture of Jacob and Jackson Lane dancing club-style with Ashlyn in the middle.

  I stuff it into my Spanish book and think, This is who’s walking with me in the morning. Damn. It’s disturbing because everything about her screams sweet. But that doesn’t give them the right to treat her that way. Hypocrites.

  Ashlyn is talking to Jenna, sitting in the row next to mine. She asks Jenna if she goes to the football games. Doesn’t everyone in this town? What else is there to do? Then Ashlyn asks if they go to the dances after the games. Where has this girl been?

  There happens to be a dance this Friday after the game. Ashlyn wants to meet up with
them there. She’s probably never gone without a crowd of friends.

  From the row to the left of me, I hear Reyna snickering. Loudly, she says, “I can’t wait to see her dance moves again! I'm sure the rest of the team can jump in this time.” Most of the class heard, including a deeply blushing Ashlyn.

  Luckily the bell rings and Mrs. Branch gets us going straight into a grammar recap. No offense, but she’s putting me to sleep. Glancing over, Ashlyn is writing notes frantically. She peeks up at me and I move my attention back up to the front. I want to stare at her. I do. But all the signs point to her being bad news for me.

  ***

  The rest of the school day is more of the same. She’s also at Jenna and D'Nae’s table again at lunch. Still somewhat uncomfortable, like the two girls will reject her too and send her packing. D'Nae keeps glancing at me and whispering to Jenna and Ashlyn. Then she’s up and heading toward me.

  A small part of me (maybe not that small) wonders if Ashlyn is sending her over to ask me something. Those freckles of hers are my new eye candy.

  “Hey,” D'Nae says, pushing her hair out of her eyes, “I was wondering if you had a date to the dance Friday night. You know, after the game?”

  Yeah, I know which dance, but she’s just nervous. I glance over at Ashlyn. They’re both watching covertly.

  “Nope,” I respond and she smiles tentatively and gets braver.

  “Well, do you want to go with me?”

  The disappointment that flares in my chest is frightening, and I hide it quickly. She’s nice and pretty even under all that eyeliner, so I say, “Sure, meet me there.”

  “Oh,” she grumbles, like I just turned her down. And I realize perhaps other guys might mean “not gonna happen.”

  As she’s turning around, I say, “Wait. It’s just that my dad’s been using my Jeep. I'm getting a ride from one of the guys.”

  “Oh,” she says, a small, half-smile playing on her lips. “OK, meet you there then.” She walks away, leaving me wishing she had been there to ask for Ashlyn… I was screwed.

  Chapter 4

  Ashlyn

  Kiel barely looked at me Tuesday and he agreed to go to the dance with D'Nae. It’s Wednesday. Two more days to endure after today.

  I catch up with him even quicker than yesterday morning. Of course, his ear buds are plugging up his hearing. Maybe I’ll listen to music once I get my phone back. But then again, how would I hear a creeper van pulling up to kidnap me? On second thought…

  Speaking of Tuesday, when I caught him smiling, I saw the most amazing dimples. Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of them again today. I tuck my hands in my pockets and join him. He may have just picked up his pace though, which I find somewhat insulting.

  “Slow down!” I holler, attempting to speed walk to keep up.

  He turns his head and flicks one shoulder and an eyebrow up, leaving the ear buds in. I mouth, “Slow down!”

  He nods and slows. Thank God! I saw another dog in the short block before I met up with him.

  “Where do you live?” I ask, curious.

  This time he stops, removes an ear bud, and spins to face me. “I missed that last one.” Of course he did.

  So I repeat myself.

  “On Rose,” Kiel says. He spins back around and continues walking.

  “OK,” I mumble with attitude, knowing he won’t hear me. But he peers over at me with narrowed eyes. Yikes, there must’ve been a break between songs. I blush, knowing these interruptions are going to earn me a one-way ticket to Alonesville, leaving me susceptible to stranger danger and stray animals.

  But I'm fidgeting as we walk along. I'm dying to know what he’s listening to. My hands are tapping in my pockets; I chew my bottom lip; I flick my eyes over at him several times.

  Without warning, he freaking stops walking. I take a few steps before I realize it. I turn to see him with his arms crossed. We’re only two small steps away from each other. His face is dotted with what Dad calls angel kisses, all over like stars in the sky. They’re appealing; way better than my freckles that bleed into one another like an oil spill.

  I notice his ear buds are draped over his arm and he’s waiting on me. I guess for me to speak. Oh, my mouth wants to win this one. I've mentioned its stupidity. I shake my head no, more to myself than Kiel. Motioning with my hand for us to continue on, I set the example by turning and taking a few steps.

  He’s not following. I close my eyes and take a calming breath. I count to ten and he’s walking again, ear buds firmly entrenched. I can control my stupid mouth. I can.

  ***

  At my locker is yet another picture taped up on it. How many do they have, seriously? Is it one for every day of the school year? I'm officially beginning to worry because I don’t know who all has these and how far they’ve spread. They’ve probably gone viral by now. That would explain all the looks and glares. Nothing I can do about it realistically but ride it out.

  Three lockers down, Kiel is watching me with what may pass as pity, but it reads on the you-did-it-to-yourself pity scale. My eyes roll of their own accord. I don’t need his kind of pity. I do need his a.m. company, so I soften the eye roll with a fake smile. A what-can-you-do shrug caps it off and I walk away, sure he didn’t buy it.

  Everyone can tell I'm on edge. All my smiles are now faked. I'm taking copious and useless notes. (We’ve only been in school two full days—it’s mostly review for goodness sake!)

  Lunch should have been a high point; at least it was for a few minutes. D'Nae goes over to Kiel to get his digits. His laugh is smooth without any annoying breathiness or funky noises. I want badly to be happy for D'Nae.

  I turn my attention away before either of them sees me gawking.

  “Jenna,” I ask, diverting, “Are you still going single?”

  “Yup,” she answers confidently. “Don’t see myself asking anyone or agreeing to go with anyone now that the absolute hottest bod in school will be shaking it with my bestie.” I laugh.

  “‘Absolute hottest bod’ Jenna? Really?”

  “Yeah and if you don’t agree, you can’t sit here any longer. So, off with you!” Jenna jokes, flapping her hand at me.

  Giggling, I toss a crouton at her from my salad.

  “Hey!” Jenna yells with false irritation. “You better stop wasting the few good calories in that sad excuse for a lunch!”

  I stick my tongue out at her, feeling comfortable and at ease.

  ***

  The rest of the day is basically crap. Except that Kiel touches my fingers as I pass back a Bio assignment and accidentally brushes his hand across my hair. Mmhm. And, of course, there’s Jenna and D'Nae.

  Brisa tries to cheer me up by leaving me a sisterly “Love ya! XO” note attached to my locker with a heart sticker. I re-tape it to the inside of my locker door as I get my homework out. We’ve got to make posters and banners for the game tonight after school. Should be relatively painless because Mrs. Lindsey stays close during these, painting, stenciling, and glittering along with us.

  ***

  Tonight we’re helping Mom make a ton of cupcakes for a one hundredth birthday party going down this Friday night. My mom will frost them later, but the things have to get baked. Sometimes Mom overbooks and we’re thankful Dad bought her a double oven last Christmas so we can eat too.

  It’s relaxing for me, and I mix and measure my way to peace. Maybe she’ll let me come in to her shop soon so I can get free aroma therapy.

  While I'm baking away, I also make a decision to attempt silent walking tomorrow morning. It’s going to take some mad willpower. I think I have it in me!

  ***

  Kiel

  Not many words pass between us Wednesday morning. But from the pained expression on her face, I know she has a desperate need to talk. It’s obviously crushing her, but like some ninja warrior, she keeps it in check.

  She doesn’t even back down from her resolve when I stop dead in my tracks with both ear buds removed. All to hear what she’d
been so antsy to say. But she stands there without speaking a word. How is that even possible?

  The rest of the walk is even more uncomfortably silent for me than before. Maybe I'm becoming used to her interruptions...

  ***

  Another picture is taped to her locker and I know it’s eating her up. But we reap what we sow. Her attempt to play it off fell flat. It was evident that it hurt like hell.

  In second period, Reyna is passing around her phone, showing off her new car. “Oops!” I hear her say. We’re all treated to a picture of what might be someone (Ashlyn) falling and being helped up (by Jackson). But that isn’t the way Reyna plays it.

  “Dang! I had no idea what she was doing when I took that one! Ew. I thought I had deleted it.” She taps on her screen and the picture disappears. Sure she deleted it…I’d bet my favorite guitar Reyna’s got copies in the Cloud, stored away.

  ***

  Thursday morning, Ashlyn joins me seemingly in a good mood. I'm ready for her today. Ashlyn deserves a break from bad manners, so my music isn’t cranked up all the way.

  Only, she doesn’t say a word to me the whole way. She merely waves a hello when we meet up and a good-bye as she runs off to meet Jenna and D'Nae.

  I'm stunned.

  ***

  The good mood she's in fizzles quickly when she gets to her locker. The picture taped there must be particularly horrific. She can’t help the look of dismay that spreads across her face. It must be the one that Reyna—oops—showed to us in Calculus yesterday. Ashlyn leans forward on her closed locker door, trying to keep tears in. Her deep, ragged breaths are covered by the noise in the hallway, but her shoulders are shaking.

  I can’t fix her problems. Hell, I barely know what they are. To be clear, I don’t want to know what they are.

  Since music calms me, I decide it’s the least I can do to share that with her. One song springs to mind from one of my favorite bands. Scrolling through my playlists, I find it and take the two steps until I'm leaning on the locker beside her. I nudge her shoulder with mine.