Page 34 of Refusing Kendall

“We figured that if we couldn’t be there in person, then we’d at least talk to you until you fall asleep,” he says with a smile in his voice.

My eyebrow does a good Mav impression, “And I guess you got chosen because you hardly sleep as it is?”

He lets out another short laugh, “Nope, we drew straws. Winner got to call you.”

The scene of them actually drawing straws plays out in my head, and I laugh with him. Teagan stays on the phone with me for the next few hours. Even as I clean the kitchen up and take a shower. When I told him that I would call him back after I got out, his response was that he’d rather listen and picture being home and in there with me. What girl would argue with that? I tell all the others goodnight, and it seems as though Teagan is going to bed as I do.

“I thought about going to sleep in your room tonight,” I tell him, getting comfortable in my own bed.

He groans, “You’re killing me, sweets. You can’t say things like that to me, or I’ll be sneaking out to meet you there.”

I decide to tease him a little further, “I’m even wearing your jersey, so it’ll feel like you’re here with me.”

“That’s it,” he says, and I hear rustling around the phone, “Give me twenty.”

Laughing, I know that he’s not kidding about making the thirty-minute drive in twenty, “You better not. I’ll be good and stay in my own bed tonight. I’ll make a drive down tomorrow after practice for dinner.”

“You know that we don’t get out of practice until late, right?” he reminds me, sounding like he’s in the process of laying back down.

“Yeah, I know,” I reply as I close my eyes. Today has been more exhausting and rougher on me than I thought. “I’ll bring something with me, and we can have a picnic in front of your dorm or something. That way you can run inside at the very last possible second.”

“Damn, sweets. I love you,” he says with a smile in his voice.

His words bring one to mine, “I love you too, pumpkin.”

I don’t know how long we talk, but I fall asleep to the sound of T’s voice in my ear.

A nightmare pulls me out of sleep what feels like only an hour or so later. As I come to my senses, it seems the nightmare has followed me into reality. My eyes are open, but I can’t see anything. Everything is pitch black. I flail around on my bed, trying to find my phone for the light. When my hands finally close around it, I soon realize that my search was pointless. It’s dead. I forgot to plug it in, and talking to Teagan for so long must have killed my battery. I take deep breaths to try to choke down the panic trying to claw its way to the surface.

Throwing back my quilt, I step out of bed, taking my dead phone with me. Worst case scenarios run through my head. Someone hiding underneath the bed waiting to grab me. Someone hiding in the hall, or even here in the same room with me and not being able to see them. That thought alone spurs me into action and has me jumping towards the door and the light switch beside it. I have to fight my scream when I flick the lights on. I spin around to face off with my room. Expecting the worst and seeing nothing causes my heart to do a quick skip of a beat. I look towards my closet. It’s obvious that there’s nothing in there, but I know for sure that I left that light on. The smart thing to do would be to plug my phone in and call Teagan. I know that he’d wake up on the first ring, and the guys could be here in less than thirty minutes. Or, better yet, I could call the officer’s number from the card he gave me earlier. Too bad I left that lying on the kitchen counter. My charger is in there too. Sitting in my bag, shining like a beacon of my stupidity.

Also, why oh fucking why, Kendall, do you not have any flashlights or sporting equipment in your room to use as a weapon? You idiot.Mentally berating myself gives me an idea. I run to the closet and grab my tennis racquet that Lucas bought me over the summer. We didn’t play much, because it was hot as fuck. There was every intention of picking it back up in the spring, but he’ll just have to buy me a new one. It’s all that I have.

Balancing it in my good hand, I cling to my phone in my other like it’s the last lifeline I have left. I start out creeping against the wall, but my nerves get the best of me, and I end up rushing into the bathroom like a crazy person. I flip the switch and thankfully see nothing. I’ve gone this far. I might as well go get my charger and the officer’s card from the kitchen. When I get there and find nothing there as well, I truly begin to question my sanity.

The light from the kitchen is enough to illuminate the small study room all the way to the front door and over to the door that leads up and downstairs. Which, of course, to add to my terror, is closed. It’s never closed. I dig the charger out of my bag and plug in my phone right there on the countertop. I’ve got at least two full minutes before it charges enough to turn on and be usable. Squeezing the racquet in both hands, I make my way over to the closed door.

Surprise, surprise, it’s dark on the other side. Luckily on this side of the house, there’s lights on both stairs. I guess to keep people from falling in the dark. Flipping them both on, I tackle both levels one after the other. Coming across nothing or no one, I check all the doors and windows, making sure they’re all locked. When I confirm there’s no way that anyone could have come in, my brain starts trying to rationalize what happened. Even going so far as to say it could have been a random power surge that was hard enough to flip the switches. Logically it’s not possible, but I’m more willing to accept that than any other conclusion I come up with in the dark of night right now. My phone hits thirty percent charged before I decide not to alarm anyone. There’s no one inside the house right now, and everything is locked up tight. I will not call the cops out here and look like a fucking psycho trying to explain that I have a ghost friend playing tricks on me. No thanks. Now, not waking the guys, that’s the real problem. I gave Mav my word and I’m not up to feeling the wrath of breaking that with him. It had to be something to do with the power. There’s no reason to call them out when everything is secure. At least that’s what I tell myself. I don’t know if it’ll save me later, but it sounds good for now. Obviously, I’m not going to be getting any more sleep anyways, so I’ll be awake if it happens again. At that, I take my charging phone downstairs to turn on the TV. At least with the voices coming from it, I don’t feel so alone.

A Fire That Burns Hotter Than Hell

The rest of the week goes by quietly, especially compared to everything we’ve had going on lately. I did go over and eat dinner with the guys Tuesday night, where I told them about the night before. Mav had looked pissed enough to turn me over his knee right there in front of everyone. Luckily, he let me explain myself before he exploded, and I made it sound less terrifying than it actually was. It was a double-edged sword, though. He may have let me off easy this time, but I have no available loophole if it happens again.

Saturday is upon us before I can blink, without any further crazy shit happening around the house. No more weird phone calls, which may have something to do with the fact, other than my quad, only Ry and Lincoln have the number. The game today was another away game, but it was close enough I could drive to it. I prefer the home games, because it means I don’t have to sit in a section that may be filled with the other team’s psycho fans. Like today. It didn’t help at fucking all that the game was so close I was almost biting my nails in worry. They need to win the next two in order to get a decent bowl game, and it was a close one. We only won by one point. Still, a win is a win.

The guys are catching a ride back on the bus. I’m to head home and open the present that Teagan dropped off at the house for me last night. He said I wasn’t allowed to open it until I got home today after the game. It’s been pure torture to not sneak a peek. With it being a surprise from T, there’s no telling what’s inside.

I shoot off a quick group text to my guys, letting them know that I’m not going to fight the hordes to get to the locker room, and I’ll just be heading home. It’ll take them a little while to reply, since they’ll have to shower and everything.

Walking out of the stadium is tedious with all the bodies fighting to do the same thing. Most of them are the other team’s fans, and I try to ignore the glares some of them send my way. Yeah, I think it’s time I start bringing an away game buddy. Just as that thought crosses my mind, someone bumps into my left shoulder. They apologize quickly, but the damage is done. Trying to catch my balance on the handrail, I accidentally elbow the guy coming down the stairs on my right. He lets out an oomph and shoots me a murderous glare, even after I apologize twice.

Jutting out my chin, I slap my best Mav face on and ignore the crowd. I stuff my hands in my school hoodie that I threw on over my jeans this morning. It takes me at least fifteen minutes just to get out of the stadium and another fifteen to get to my car parked up the street. I’m about a block away when I get the feeling I’m being followed. There are several groups of people on the other side of the street, but on my side all I can see is me and one other person trailing behind. My heart slams in my chest as I get a good glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. It’s the same guy that I got knocked into earlier. I would recognize that stupid eighties jacket and Yankees cap anywhere. The crowd on the other side of the street thins out and I try to pick up my pace without it being obvious. Hands shaking, I drop my keys trying to unlock the doors as the guy continues to get closer. Hitting on the second try, I jump inside and slam my fist down on the locks. The man makes no motion to stop as he simply meanders past probably heading for his car up the road. Jesus Christ, why am I such a spaz lately? I’m so fucking paranoid about everything and everyone. I definitely need to stop watching all those creepy movies with Goose.

“It’s not like you’d have done much good, Kendall,” I berate myself. “Couldn’t even get the fucking key in the door. Stereotypical horror movie girl that dies first.”

On that cheery thought, I crank up the car and head out towards the highway that will take me home. Some new age country music plays on the radio, and I sing along to the ones that I know. The whole ride I alternate between scolding and laughing at myself. I’ve let everything go to my head lately and it’s making me super paranoid.

As I make it home, I park my old Malibu next to the house. Double checking the locks on the door, I make sure that everything is secure before letting myself in. The guys have mentioned trying to talk the people we rent from into letting us put in a security system, or even just a camera. I’ll admit it would make me feel loads more comforatble. Either way, I’ll just keep taking the precautions that I am, and the slut bunnies will hopefully lose interest. Speaking of which, I flick the lock over behind me before heading back to my room.

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