Читать книгу A World Without You - A. S. Peterson - Страница 12

6

June

In the month of June, Scott’s life became an endurance marathon while waiting for Thursday. As much as he enjoyed playing football, his secret meetings with Briana were the paramount part of his summer. Destiny remained interested, but he did his best to avoid her.

When Scott and Briana met each Thursday, they scarcely noticed the unseasonably warm weather with very little rainfall. Their thoughts were on the anticipation of developing their relationship.

On June 11, Scott arrived inside the park to find Briana reading the book Pride and Prejudice. As he approached, she closed her book and set it aside. She smiled shyly, stating she was very interested in this book. Scott nodded thoughtfully, remembering the past school year. For his advanced reading class, Pride and Prejudice had been a required book to read. As much as he tried, he couldn’t get into the story. He ended up getting a B for that class.

Briana moved over on the bench, making room for him. She said, “My mom recommended this book. She read it when she was young. Have you ever read it?”

“No, I’m more of a nonfiction reader.”

Briana nodded while Scott suggested they hike the northwest path inside the woods. Today they spent their time exploring several different trails. At eleven fifty, they stood at the entrance. Scott was pleased with their day. He learned two things about Briana from just observation. She liked to read and she also liked to solve puzzles. She had showed him a photograph of her dog, Minnie, a black dachshund. In the picture, Briana was sitting on a chair, working on a crossword puzzle, while her dog rested on her lap.

Before leaving, Briana handed Scott an envelope. “Read this after I leave.”

As soon as she turned the corner of the block, Scott opened the flowered envelope and removed the matching paper. Her penmanship was as elegant as her mannerisms.

Scott, your poems hypnotized my heart. In return, I wrote a poem, using your name. Scott = Strength of character. Captivated my heart. Only boy for me. Talented poet. Tremendously handsome.

Refolding the stationery, Scott grinned as he placed the poem inside the envelope.

Later that evening, he sat at his desk, tapped his pencil on his notebook as he mulled over and played with words. Finally he wrote,

Briana, here’s a poem with your name. Briana = Beauty in the park. Respects her loved one. Intelligent girl. Affectionate dog lover. Not a talkative girl. Always waiting for Thursdays.

*****

On June 18, with his poem inside his pocket, Scott sat with Briana on the rock inside the woods and played a game he had made in his seventh-grade shop class. The game had a triangular light-green wood base consisting of nine holes. Golf pegs were placed into eight holes, leaving one empty. Showing Briana the rules of the game by playing it, Scott jumped one peg over another and removed the jumped peg off the wood base. The object of the game was to remove as many pegs as possible. When Briana played the first time, she removed all the pegs, except the jumping peg which remains on the wood base.

As she played, Scott studied her intense concentration. Since the first day he met her, he figured she was intelligent because of her careful observations. Today she proved it. He smiled at her. “You’re good at solving puzzles.”

Briana blushed. Then over the next three rounds, she was unable to remove all the pegs off the wood base. “I guess I had beginner’s luck.”

As she returned his game, Scott grinned. Her strategy to lose had been as intense as her strategy to win. “I know what you are doing, Briana.”

Frowning, she replied, “You do?” She had worked hard to try and hide her tactic for losing.

“I really don’t mind if you beat me in that game,” Scott joked, although like Briana, he had solved the game’s solution on the first try.

He moved his attention from the game to her eyes. Suddenly conscious of her warmth filtering into his body, his breathing became shallow. He knew this was the moment he’d been waiting for. Since their second meeting, his urge to kiss her had monopolized his thoughts. Moving forward slowly, he wasn’t about to let this opportune moment pass without his lips being introduced to hers, but the moment he tilted his head, Briana turned hers in the opposite direction, looking at the path that leads to the park.

Scott swallowed, trying not to feel rejected. He stared at the oak tree in front of him, wondering if he had once again misread her expression. He controlled his disappointment. “Do you want to play the game again?”

“No,” Briana replied.

Scott hopped off the rock, suggesting they sit on the park bench. The warmth of her body was now agonizing and he’d rather focus on something else than her very close proximity.

On the bench, they spoke very little. Their uncomfortable silence was broken when a 1992 red convertible Corvette zoomed into the parking lot. A couple in their early twenties emerged, strolling flirtatiously to the far northeast corner of the park where the girl wrapped her arms around her partner’s neck, giggled at his comment, and then enjoyed a physical kiss.

Scott groaned inwardly, got off the bench, and commented on his thirstiness. The last thing he wanted to see was some other guy enjoying a passionate moment. After sipping some water at the drinking fountain, he entwined his fingers with Briana’s, guiding her around the corner of the restrooms. He leaned against the wall. The view of the woods was more welcoming than the young couple in love.

Scott and Briana stood quietly, watching a squirrel scamper up a tree with an acorn. The restroom wall hindered the soothing breeze and the late morning sun beat down on them.

Scott asked, “Are you hot?”

“I’m okay,” Briana replied.

Sweat built up between their enclosed hands, but Briana couldn’t bring herself to release it, worrying Scott would think she didn’t enjoy holding his hand. She watched the same squirrel run along a branch, thinking how Scott purposely avoided seeing the couple kissing. Was he annoyed she had turned her head? How was she going to explain her parents’ overprotectiveness to him?

The minutes ticked by slowly. When the Corvette left the park, Briana was surprised at how quickly their uneasiness vanished. The timing was perfect. She needed to leave. At the entrance of the park, Scott asked for her shoe size, telling her it was a secret for next Thursday.

After she told him, Scott reached into his back pocket. “I wrote another poem for you. I liked your poem, especially the part where I was the only boy for you.”

Briana smiled shyly. “It wasn’t as good as yours.”

“I know. It was better,” Scott announced as he squeezed her hand.

Seven days later, Scott entered the park, carrying a large bag of grass seed. He strolled over to the bench, observing Briana’s confused expression. Scott smiled, reached into the empty bag, and pulled out Felicia’s and his roller skates. His neighbor kept her skates in the garage, and Scott had simply borrowed them. Luckily for him, Felicia had the same size feet as Briana.

As Briana studied the skates, Scott said, “I hid them in here. That way, if any of my friends see me, they wouldn’t question me.”

Yesterday he had begun his summer ambition to beautify the two parks near his house. He sprinkled grass seed on the vacant lot adjacent to Second Street Park after getting permission from Mr. Orson who owned the lot.

Scott sat on the bench beside Briana, untied his shoes, and glanced at her. She was twisting her hands together. She watched him slide his foot into his skates.

Briana said, “I don’t know how to roller-skate.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you,” he replied gallantly.

When he finished tying his skates, Scott helped Briana tie hers. “You ready?”

She gave a hesitant nod, and he clutched her hand, guiding her to the basketball court. He rolled onto their makeshift rink, circling his arm around her waist firmly to keep her from falling. She wobbled with uncertainty. His arm instinctively rose just below her breasts, preventing her from falling. While Briana straightened herself, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of roller-skating two weeks earlier.

“Just take your time, I won’t let go of you until you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Briana replied and stared at her moving feet. She had a hard time concentrating with Scott’s arm wrapped around her waist, making her body tingle all over. Several minutes passed before she finally managed to find her rhythm. The extra exhilaration from their bodily contact provided the buoyancy and adrenaline she needed.

After about twenty minutes of skating around the court, Briana became more confident. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Good,” Scott replied. He turned 180 degrees, skated backward, and linked his fingers through hers.

They gradually picked up speed as their eyes locked, focusing more on enjoying their intimacy than their skating. Lost in their own world, they smiled at one another without realizing they reached the end of the court. Before he could stop himself, Scott rolled off the concrete onto the lawn. Unable to adjust, he lost his balance, falling backward, pulling Briana with him. He met the ground solidly and groaned when Briana elbowed him in the stomach as she fell beside him.

Lying next to Scott, Briana hurriedly moved his brown hair off his face which was etched in pain. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, keeping his eyes closed.

Briana propped her arm, leaning on it as she studied Scott’s strong facial features and the details of his lips. A month ago, she would have never have imagined herself lying next to a boy, feeling protected and secure. If she moved a few inches closer, her lips would be on his—and she really wanted to kiss him. Sighing quietly, she moved her gaze to his loose curls, wondering how she was going to explain her predicament to him.

Without thinking, she touched one of his curls. Her spontaneous action traveled from her hand to her voice. Shocking herself, she whispered, “I like your curls.”

With one quick intake of oxygen, Scott opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Briana. His breath miraculously returned to normal. “You do?”

Briana released his curl, feeling her cheeks blazing. She turned her head and started to get up.

Scott grabbed her arm. “Stay. It felt nice when you touched my hair.”

When she didn’t respond, he gently fingered her long blond hair, remembering the fresh smell. “I like your hair too. It’s soft and natural.”

Briana’s heart skipped a beat from the gentleness of his touch. She smiled. “Thanks.”

“You know, with a smile like that, you’re going to knock the wind out of me again,” Scott replied hoarsely, intoxicated by her beauty. As he stared at her lips, a strong magnetic force pulled him toward her. He sat up. At the exact moment when he became positive this kiss would succeed, Briana moved her head and he ended up kissing her cheek.

Frustrated with another rejection, Scott ran a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t misreading her expression, but for some reason, she kept turning her head. After spending these past few weeks contemplating that question, his lack of resolve had burned a permanent fixture into his brain.

Controlling his impatience, he hopped to his feet, extending his hand. Briana reached for it and gave him an apologetic look. “It’s okay, Briana,” he said as he helped her up. He led her to the court. They skated again, but their previous enjoyment didn’t return.

Forty-five minutes later, Scott walked home along Seventh Street. He wondered if kissing a girl was usually this complicated or getting to know a girl was usually this difficult. He still knew very little about Briana. She never volunteered information about herself. During the evenings when he should be sleeping, he was writing down ideas on how to unlock her silence; keeping her active hadn’t worked, playing a thought-provoking game hadn’t worked. Nothing had been successful. All the girls he had met over the years spoke easily about themselves. Sighing, he turned left on Oak Avenue, realizing it was time to get some ideas from his dad.

About fifty feet from home, Scott saw Destiny walking toward him, dressed in shorts and a pink halter top. Her black hair blew freely in the breeze. She waved enthusiastically while he grunted, “Man, this girl never quits.”

Destiny was now applying her makeup according to her skin tone. She was also using less hairspray. Because she was looking more attractive, the tension between Brett and Adam had increased. Both of those boys were interested in her.

“Hi, Scott,” Destiny said as she reached his house at the same time he did. She glanced at the bag of seeds. “Are you helping someone with their lawn?”

Scott shrugged and didn’t reply. He made his way to the front door. “Did you need something?”

“I came over to talk to you.”

Scott placed the bag on the lawn and sat on his front steps.

Destiny joined him. “I was just wondering how you know so much about makeup.”

“I took art classes.”

“What does that have to do with makeup?”

“It’s just another form of art.”

“I never thought of makeup as art.” When Scott didn’t reply, Destiny asked, “Do you think I look better now?”

Scott studied the subtle application of her makeup and her naturally windblown hair. “Yes.”

As soon as he gave his response, Scott regretted it. She moved closer, touching her shoulder against his, gazing steadily at him. He quickly moved his attention to the vacant lot in front of his house. He knew that look. It was the same one Briana had just given him and he knew Destiny wouldn’t turn her head.

He added quickly, “All the guys think you look better too.”

“I don’t care what they think. I only care what you think.”

“Some of them might care about you,” he replied as he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing in that direction, he spotted Derek, tossing his football from hand to hand, studying Scott and Destiny sitting on the steps.

Derek cut across Felicia’s lawn, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, Scott, we’re playing basketball at three instead. Can you make it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you then,” Derek replied, completely ignoring Destiny.

Scott knew his friend wouldn’t want him hooking up with Destiny. Derek and Destiny had dated several years ago, and the boys had an unspoken agreement about dating ex-girlfriends. It would definitely put a damper on their friendship.

While Destiny watched Derek stroll away, she scrunched up her face with disgust. “He might be the best-looking boy in school, but he’s a jerk.”

“You’re talking about my friend.”

“Whether or not he’s your friend, he’s still a two-timing jerk.”

Scott didn’t reply. In eighth grade, when Destiny found out that Derek was dating others, she basically let Derek and all the students in the cafeteria know exactly what she thought of him. After that incident, Derek and Destiny never spoke again.

*****

Derek gripped his football as he made his way to the park the following morning. He was usually the first one there, but today, he was fifteen minutes late. Derek rubbed his forehead. Even though he woke up with a severe headache, his dad always insisted practice in the backyard must continue. According to his old man, someday he may have to play a football game with a pounding headache. Derek growled. His dad always had a way of rambling on about accuracy and precision. Scott wasn’t helping either. Yesterday when he walked home with Scott after their basketball game, Derek had asked him about Destiny, wanting to know if they were dating. Scott simply mentioned they were only friends. Then Derek asked why his right-hand man was missing their football games every Thursday. Scott gave him an odd look, one that Derek had never seen before, and then played the comedian.

Scott had joked, “I’ve been preoccupied by Mrs. Whitfield’s maple tree. I trimmed it incorrectly and nearly killed it. I had to rub the leaves and speak to it gently just to revitalize the tree.” Then Scott stuffed his hands into his pocket and added, “You wouldn’t believe it, Derek. Yesterday I checked the tree, and it was back to normal. Boy, was that a relief. I didn’t want to have to tell Mrs. Whitfield that I killed her tree.”

That final sarcastic comment blew Derek’s patience and he glared at his friend and said, “Shut your damn mouth or you’ll be seeing my fists.” Something was going on in Scott’s life and Scott wanted to keep it private. Why not just say it straight out instead of making up a damn story?

That was nearly twenty-four hours ago, and for some reason, Derek was still angry as he crossed Elm Avenue and entered the park. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead. The day was already hot and stifling, but at least this park didn’t smell.

Before the basketball game yesterday, Scott had thrown manure on the recently planted grass. Then taking his weed eater, Scott cut the grass below the picnic tables, between the cracks in the basketball court, and alongside the restroom wall. When the guys arrived to play basketball, the smell nearly drove them out. Only Randy appeared unimpressed by the improvement of the park, calling Scott a nerd for smelling up the park before their game.

Ignoring his headache, Derek strolled through the grass to his friends who were tossing the football around. It wasn’t easy being the leader of this group. He had to be tough, and he couldn’t worry about whether or not the guys liked him. Derek narrowed his eyes and waved his hand in an impatient gesture. “Why haven’t you guys started playing?”

The guys looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They knew he was in one of his bad moods and itching for a confrontation. That meant they’d be sticking together when he jumped all over the player who made a stupid mistake.

It only took twenty minutes into the game for Derek to become annoyed. He enjoyed adding cuts to the passing routes and told Jess to run a slant and then cut quickly to the right. Derek threw the ball to the intended location, but his pass sailed into nothingness because Jess ran a slant and cut to the left.

Derek yelled, “What the hell are you doing, Jess? This is the second time today you’ve gone in the wrong direction.” Derek watched Jess brush his palms against his shirt as he walked back to the line of scrimmage. Sure the guys hated his seriousness of the game, but they wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t hound them.

Matt moved beside Jess, followed by Scott, Karl, and the rest. Matt said, “Take it easy, Derek. You’ve been wound up since you got here and taking your anger out on Jess.”

Inhaling slowly, Derek’s head pulsated, threatening to explode any minute. He should have known he’d have no patience to deal with his friends today. Derek snarled, “If you guys can’t even follow a basic play, we’ll never make it to state this year.” He glared at Brett. “Give me my damn football.”

Without hesitation, Brett tossed the ball to him. Before leaving, Derek said, “Keep practicing, you guys need it.”

The guys watched Derek leave the park and cross Elm Avenue. They instantly felt liberated from the constant pressure. Suddenly the morning wasn’t as stifling as it had been a moment ago. Lance spoke first. “I guess Derek will be punching his bag today.”

Randy snarled. “Yeah, with your picture on it.”

Lance shook his head. “No, Jess’s picture will be taped on it.”

The guys laughed, relieved their stress was gone. Matt picked up his ball from the sideline and threw it to Scott who always took over Derek’s quarterback position for his team.

Randy turned his attention from Derek to Scott. He creased his brows, holding back a smirk. Here was his golden opportunity to clobber Scott, his greatest annoyance. He stroked his chin as if thinking. “Let’s play an all-out football game.”

Karl’s eyes widened. “No rules?”

Randy growled, “Rule 1, there are no rules. Everything goes.”

The guys looked over at Scott. They knew he would be Randy’s punching bag.

Karl asked, “So what do you say, Scott?”

Scott observed Randy’s challenging glare. He replied fearlessly, “Let’s go for it.”

Everyone looked over at Matt, waiting for his input. Matt always kept his composure and had a way of organizing the final details.

While the guys waited for his answer, Matt studied Randy’s eager expression, moved his attention to the field, and then looked at his buddy Karl who raised an eyebrow. They both knew that if Scott broke an arm or leg, Derek would be coming to them, demanding to know why they had allowed this game. In no mood to deal with that monster, Matt replied, “There’s only one rule, no tackling in the end zone.”

The group of boys moved toward the center of the field. They huddled together as they placed their right hand in the pile. “Agreed,” they all yelled, pushing down on the mass of hands.

With that one rule established, the game began. After the first snap from Lance, Randy charged forward, noticing how the sun hindered Scott’s vision.

Scott just had time to toss the ball out of bounds before his head snapped back by the force of Randy’s hit on his left cheek. He was then thrown to the ground as Randy landed on top of him. Man, I should be wearing a helmet, Scott thought as he suppressed a groan, not wanting his enemy to know how much pain he felt.

Randy whispered, “Expect more of the same, nerd.”

Scott rolled to his side and forced himself to stand. He shook his head, trying to eliminate the white circling stars. The pain on his left cheek throbbed as he staggered over to the huddle.

Jess asked, “Dude, you okay?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, run a square out.”

After the snap, Randy charged from the left side. He extended his arm before Scott could get rid of the ball. Randy grabbed the hem of Scott’s T-shirt. With his arm at full extension, Randy whirled his rival like a fan, tripped him, and then shoved Scott’s face toward the turf.

Scott hit the ground, amazingly keeping the ball safely tucked in his arms. On impact, he cut his bottom lip with his tooth. He spit the grass from his mouth, wiped the blood, and returned slowly to the huddle. Even if it killed him, Scott was determined to make a stand against Randy, his despised competitor.

Jess glared at Brett, seeing the blood on Scott’s lip. “Dude, you’re the blocker.”

Envious that Randy was having all the fun, Brett was unaffected. “Oh…sorry, Scott.” He stole a look at Lance who shook his head slightly. Brett knew his friend didn’t approve of his decision to help Randy annihilate Scott, but the best part was—Randy would have to deal with Derek.

After the next snap, Jess tripped Randy before running down the center, giving Scott the opportunity to pass. Jess jumped into the air, catching the ball. He landed on his feet and was immediately tackled by Karl, Matt, Troy, and Adam who dog-piled him.

While the game progressed, the players’ physical combat increased. They pushed, shoved, punched, tripped, bit, dog-piled, and tore clothes. Fifteen minutes before noon, Scott’s team positioned themselves on the imaginary twenty-yard line. After the snap, Scott faded back. He noticed Jess was covered and Randy was charging from the right. Scott tucked the ball and sprinted left with his enemy hot on his heels.

The players watched Randy tearing up the field after Scott. They held their breath, fearing the worst. Positive Randy would crush his hated opponent, they could already feel Scott’s tremendous pain. The guys watched Scott cross the end zone, slowing his pace. They sighed with relief when Randy sprinted past without tackling him.