Page 2 of Keep Me Still
“I know,” is all I say. Danni is quiet, but I meet her gaze and I know she’s holding back tears. She’s not my girlfriend or anything, but we both know we were on the verge of…something. Lifeguarding at the pool all summer, we bonded. And so did our mouths. And a few other essential body parts.
“So what’s the deal with this new place? Will you still play soccer or what?” Tuck kicks a boot against the tire of the truck.
“Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t cheat on you.” I smirk and he fakes a punch at me. Danni rolls her eyes. “Yeah, the Colonel called, probably told them it was their civic duty to let me have a late tryout or something since we’re moving because he got stationed there.”
“I don’t understand why you and your mom have to go,” Danni says quietly. “Your dad’s never even home but he totes you both around like luggage.” She doesn’t raise her voice but I can tell she’s mad. Apparently so can Tuck because he takes a few steps back to give us some space and busies himself lighting a cigarette.
“Danni,” I say, reaching out to hug her. “It’s shitty, I know.” Resting my chin on top of her head, I inhale her clean girly smell. Flowery shampoo and some kind of vanilla body spray I saw her putting on in the pool’s locker room. Makes me want cookies. “My mom wants us to stay together, like a real family.” I snort because we both know there’s no such thing.
She looks up at me with big brown eyes and I can see the hurt in them. I know from a few of our late night chats that their dad walked out not long after she was born. “Yeah, I get that,” she tells me, and I want to kick my own ass.Nice, O’Brien. Just pour some salt in the fucking wound while you’re at it.“Call or text and let us know when you make it to Hickville.”
I give her one last hug and Tuck salutes me. As they pull away in his old beater, I realize it doesn’t really matter if I say goodbye to people or not. Shit hurts either way.
“Nicetruck,” someone shouts as I get out of the new Silverado my dad bought me. For my eighteenth birthday, he said, but we both knew it was a suck-it-up gift for my not giving him or Mom too much hell about this move. Or it’s a warning to keep my mouth shut. With the Colonel I never know for sure.
“Thanks,” I holler with a head nod in the direction of the voice.
A few female heads turn as I make my way into the generic school building, and I don’t even bother to keep the smirk off my face. “Here we go again,” I mutter to myself.
Finding the office wasn’t too difficult since it was right inside the entrance. Now I’ve got the new kid special in my hand: a schedule and a map complete with locker number and combination.
“Hey, man. You Landen O’Brien?” a guy’s voice greets me as I find my locker and fidget with the lock.
“Last I checked,” I answer, wondering if this is an actual welcome or the typical there’s-only-room-for-one-cocky-badass-in-this-school-so-watch-your-back greeting.
“Dwight Wilkins, but everyone calls me DW,” the blond guy says, reaching out to shake my hand. I take it, giving it a firm shake before cramming my bag into my locker. “You’re trying out for the soccer team today right?”
“Yeah, after school.”
“Cool.”
Jesus. Hope Springs must be a small town if this random dude knows my business already.
Apparently he isn’t done. “I don’t play with the grass fairies, man, but our football team just lost its kicker, and I’ve seen some YouTube videos of you scoring some badass Beckham goals.” He shrugs. “So if you want to come play with the big boys, I can talk to coach.”
For a moment I’m seriously confused. An insult, and not even an original one, tucked into a…what exactly? Compliment? Proposition? Whatever. It’s too early for this shit.
“Yeah, man. I’ll get back to you. When my fairy costume comes back from the cleaners.”You’re welcome, Mom.The old me would have just decked his ass on principle.
DW, or whatever his name is, laughs and grins widely. “Cool,” he says. “Who you got first period?” he asks, nodding at my schedule.
“D-dub! You already harassing the new guy? What the hell, man?” A stocky dark-skinned kid comes up and claps me on the shoulder before I can answer. “Welcome to Hope Springs, soccer boy.” I shrug out from under his grip. “Pay no attention to D-dub. He’s just scoping out the competition,” he says loud enough for the other guy to hear. “Miles Cameron, but everyone calls me Cam.” He holds out his hand. What’s with this place? Nicknames and handshakes a requirement?
I shake it and adjust my bag on my shoulder. “Yeah, uh, it’s been swell, and I appreciate the welcoming committee shit and all,” I say to both of them. “But I’m gonna head on to class now. Later.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Cam says, coming up behind me. “Seriously, DW can be a real dick – that’s what the D stands for actually.” I almost laugh. “But he’s cool, for real.”
“Sure he is,” I say, not believing him and not really caring.
“It’s just the last new guy snagged his spot on the team and made a play for his girl, so he’s trying to make sure you’re not…” But I don’t hear anything else he says. Because this girl—if she’s real—just walked into the building and I can’t stop staring.
Fuck me if this is “DW’s girl” but I can’t help myself. At every school in the past few years, I’ve ended up hooking up with some random who attached herself to me for whatever reason. It always just worked out that way and I never gave it much thought. Trish in Texas, Amy in Ohio, Lyndsie in Florida. None of them really mattered much until Danni in Colorado, but we were mostly just friends who happened to make out occasionally. I never actuallynoticedany of them until they forced me to. But this girl—this girl I cannot look away from.
“Who’s that?” I ask, gesturing at the girl with hair a color I don’t know how to name. From a distance it looks a normal shade of blonde, but the light coming in from the door behind her makes it look almost white and also like she’s glowing. I know I’m staring but she doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, she doesn’t seem to notice anything as she makes her way towards us. Cam takes my schedule and points at a door to my left, but it can wait. “Seriously, who is that?” I ask again because I have to know.
“Who?” When he looks up, she’s gone, disappeared into the classroom I’m about to go into, and I’m wondering if I imagined her.
It’sthe third week of school and I’m wearing the outfit Aunt Kate wanted, but I’m done sitting in the front of the class and raising my hand and all that crap just so everyone can keep pretending I don’t exist.
