2. Jamie
“Wake up. Bales, wake up.”
Asleep, curled up on the oversized bean bag chair, Bailey looked like the five-year-old she used to be. Her deep red hair spread around her like a fiery halo. I picked up a lock and ran it through my fingers. It was so smooth, softer than anything else I’d ever touched. When we were younger, I remembered being in thrall of her hair. It was gorgeous.
“Bailey!” I dropped her hair to shake her shoulder, grinning at the wrinkle between her brows. Bailey was not a morning person. Buther mom would be up any minute with one of the younger kids, and while she didn’t mind too much if Bailey stayed over late, she expected her daughter to sleep in her bed and notcrash on my floor.
I shook her again.
“Stop it,” she grumbled, burrowing deeper into the beanbag.
My grin grew into afull-fledged smile. Bailey was one of the tiniest people I’d ever seen. One might even call her delicate if they didn’t know her, with her heart-shaped face and porcelain skin. The truth was, Bailey was anything but delicate. As the oldest of five kids, she was tough. People always thought it was the baby who had to be tough in a big family, but from my experience with the Campbells, it was the oldest. Bailey shouldered a lot of responsibility in her family. And she didn’t take crap from anyone.
“Look, shrimp, your mom’s gonna be up soon, and you know she’ll be mad if she finds out you didn’t come home last night.” Yanking on one corner, I stripped away the fleece blanket I’d covered her with the night before.
“You suck.”
“You guys shut up,” Dallin grumbled from the couch, but I ignored him as I watched goosebumps erupt on Bailey’s legs. I feltterrible, but Bailey just tucked her legs into the sweatshirt I’d given her. I sighed, knowing what had to be done. Good thing she weighed next to nothing.
“All right. Let’s go.” Without waiting for a response, I scooped her up in my arms and headed for the door.
The grass was wet with dew. The moisture soaked through my socks. I should have put on shoes. I should have remembered Bailey’s shoes. She’d have to get them later.
“I’m awake. You can put me down.” Her words were muffled against my chest. I knew she didn’t mean them. She wasn’t wearing socks. She’d hate the wet, cold grass on her feet. I’d almost made it to the porch, anyway.
“Okay, Sleeping Beauty.” I dropped her feet to the welcome mat by her front door, laughing to myself because she looked more like that red-headed princess from Brave than the blonde one in Sleeping Beauty.
“Thanks, James,” she mumbled, stumbling into the screen door.
“Careful.” I slowly opened the door for her so it wouldn’t squeak. “See you later.” I waited until she’d made it in before closing it.
I hurried home and pulled off my wet socks inside the door. I’d almost reached my room when Dallin’s head appeared over the back of the couch, his dirty blond hair sticking up in all directions.
“Dude, we missed some serious drama at the party last night.” Dallin held his phone up to his face, his eyes crossing as he focused on the screen.
I skirted around the back of the couch and flopped onto the other side of the sectional.
“What are you talking about, man,” I asked through a yawn. I was still tired. I wouldn’t have gotten up this early, but I didn’t want Bailey to get in trouble for staying here last night, so Iset an alarm.
“Look,” he replied, shoving his phone in my face.
I hadn’t put my contacts in and my glasses were still lying on my nightstand, so I held the phone close to my eyes to read the small print in his Snapchat app. I scrolled to the top of the thread.
“Holy smokes.” I rolled into a sitting position, bracing my elbows on my knees as I read.
“What was Seth thinking?” Dallin rose from the couch to pace, raking his hands through his hair. “He’s our starting quarterback.”
“Not anymore, man.” I read the most recent comment made by Ethan Russell, the team’s center and co-captain with Seth. “Ethan posted. Seth’s out.” I held the phone for him to see.
Dallin took it, stopping mid-stride. He read the comments and breathed a loud sigh. “This is not good, man. A lot of guys are talking to schools for scholarships. Something like this could tank our season.”
Wow. I hadn’t even thought of that. Our team wasn’t anything special, but last year we’d won the State Championship and had the number one high school prospect in the state, maybe even the country, as our quarterback.
Connor Sanders graduated last year and would start for State in their first game next weekend. That meant visibility for our team. Scouts had been prowling our games steadily for the last two seasons. Guys that might not have otherwise caught the attention of Division 1 teams were on the bubble for partial scholarships and more. Even Dallin was looking at being recruited by a Division 2 school. However, scouts weren’t interested in teams who didn’t put up the points and win games.
“How could Seth be so stupid?” Dallin’s head hung almost to his chest.
I knew this was a rhetorical question, so I didn’t answer. Last night after we left the party, a bunch of guys drank too much and got into a fight. This was typical behavior for some rowdier farm kids who liked to brawl, but the jocks usually stayed out of it.
According to Snapchat, Seth made a crude comment about Carly Wagstaff. Her brother, Seb, a guy known for solving his problems with his fists, wasn’t too happy about it. A big fight broke out. Someone called the police—and Coach Reno.
That was all it took. Seth and one of his buddies, an offensive lineman named Colby Sharp, were suspended for the season for fighting and being under the influence of alcohol and marijuana.
Idiots.
School didn’t start until the next week, so Seb and his friends were only in trouble with the law and their parents, but practice had started last week for fall sports. Football players were accountable to the schoolhandbook, whichclearlystated anyone caughtusingsubstances wouldbe suspended from play for an entire sports season. Seth and Colby were screwed, and so was the football team. And that wasn’t even considering the consequences of fighting and a trip to the police station.
“Who does that leave at quarterback?” Seth had been Connor’s backup last year. I couldn’t remember who’d played for the Junior Varsity.
“Justin Critchfield. He’s a sophomoreand not even close to ready for varsity.” Dallin dropped onto the couch with a sigh.
“What do you think they’ll do?” I’d wished many times that I could play football, but not more than right now.
Dallin shrugged. “I have no idea, but I should get going. We have weights in an hour, and I need a shower.” He sat for a solid minute, staring into space, before picking himself up and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll come back by after working out. I’m sure I’ll have some good gossip to share.”
“Yeah, okay.” I stared at the ceiling, thinking. “See you later.”
I’d never fall backasleep, so I took a shower before heading upstairs. Mom was awake. I heardher fingers moving over her computer keyboard. Walking down the hall to her office, I stopped in the extra-wide doorway built to accommodate her wheelchair. She’d wrangled her flyaway blonde hairwith a pair of number two pencils at the back of her head. Her hands only paused their feverish typing to push her glasses back up her nose. I waited quietly until she acknowledged me.
“I know you’re there, Jamie.” Her eyes never left the screen. A quiet, haunting tune drifted from the speakers on her desk. She liked to listen to morbid music while plotting murder and mayhem for the characters in her best-selling suspense thrillers.
“You get up early or stay up all night?” Stepping into the room, I sat in the armchair across from her desk, which was there just for me since I was the only person who ever visited her office.
“Got up early. I couldn’t sleep.” She reached with one hand for a mug of steaming coffee. From the strong smell in her office, she’d recently brewed it in the coffee maker sitting at the other end of her wraparound desk beside a microwave and mini-fridge. She literally never had to leave this room except to use the bathroom.
I knew what that meant. If she couldn’t sleep, the story was clambering to get out—her words, not mine—and she’d be at it for days.
“It’s creepy how excited you get about serial killers, Mom.” Mybodycringed.
Her eyes would have rolled if they were capable of leaving her computer screen long enough. “It’s creepy how much you sound just like your dad.”
I smiled at that. It had gotten easier to talk about him for both of us. It was good to hear the little snort of amusement she made.
Mom wasn’t traditionally funny. It was her dark humor that made her books so popular. I liked it better when I didn’t have to read them (insert shudder) to get a taste of it.
“How was the party last night? Last one of the summer, huh?”
It always amazed me how she could carry on a conversation, her fingersmoving across the keyboard without a stutter.
“We left early. Dallin stayed over.” I didn’t sayanything about Bailey. I might not think about Bailey like I did other girls, but our parents still frowned onus having sleepovers at our age.
“Right. Dallin stayed over.” Mom’s eyes darted to the window beside her desk. The one with a perfect view of Bailey’s front door.
I sighed—no use denying it. Mom didn’t care. She just liked to razz me. “We fell asleep, okay? Dallin on the couch. Bailey in the beanbag. And I slept in my ownbed.” I wouldn’t mention that I’d fallen asleep beside Bailey on the beanbag chair and only moved an hour before I had to wake her up. I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Bailey and I were just friends.
And I wanted to keep it that way. Friendships did not survive relationships. And I loved Bailey too much to give up on our friendship. Besides, I wasn’t interested in a relationship. At. All. And a girl like Bailey? Well, a girl like Bailey would only ever be a relationship kind of girl.
I sat picking at my fingernails for a minute before I noticed something was off. It was the incessant clicking from her typing; it had ceased. I glanced up.
“What?” I asked. She never stopped typing.
She had that look on her face, that motherly look that said she knew more than I did, and no matter how hard I tried or how old I got, I would never know the things she knew.
“Just be careful with her.” Her head tilted toward the window.
I frowned. “What do you mean?” I was always careful with Bailey. Wasn’t I? I’d literally just carried her to her front door to keep her from getting in trouble with her mom. And cold feet.
Mom pierced me with a look, the kind that made me want to squirm. Plus, she’d stopped typing.
“I know you and Dallin like to pretend Bailey’s not a girl with girly feelings because that keeps things the same as they’ve always been, but Bailey is a girl, James.”
Sheesh. She’d stopped typing, and she’d called me James. I sat straight in my seat. “I know Bailey’s a girl, Mom.” This conversation had gone from mildly uncomfortable to downright awkward.
“I know you’re aware of the differences in anatomy, Jamie.” My nose scrunched up. I did not want to discuss anatomy with my mother.Not about Bailey. Or anyone. Ever.
She pointed the end of her pen in my face. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. She’s not one of the guys.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I wouldn’t argue the point when she held a sharp object inches from my nose. The woman murdered people for a living, even if they were fictional. She’d have zero trouble disposing of my body, and no one would be the wiser.
Agreement seemed the safest option at this point. “Right. Not one of the guys. Got it.”
“You still aren’t listening to me. Bailey is a girl. Not just on the outside but on the inside, too. And that makes her different from you and Dallin in more ways than you guys want to admit as long as she can still beat you at Madden and toss the football over five yards.”
Bailey could throw a football way over five yards. Dallin and I would have given her endless crap for anything less than fifteen. And the girl was barely five feet tall.
“Jamie.”
I snapped to attention, dragging my thoughts away from Bailey’s perfect spiral. Maybe she could replace Seth?
“Yeah?”
“Look, I’m not trying to say anything, really. Just be careful. Try to remember that Bailey has feelings.”
Relief flooded me. “That I can do. Mom, Bailey’s been my best friend forever. Even before Dallin. I care about her more than just about anyone. Except you.”
“Smooth, kid.” She turnedback to her computer, her fingers tapping away again, signaling that this conversation was almost over. “Anything else happen last night that I should know about?”
“The starting quarterback got benched for the season.” I didn’t know why I told her that.
Her fingers stuttered over the keyboard again. “That’s too bad,” she responded, an edge to her voice.
Right.
I pushed myself out of the chair. “Shoot me a text if you need anything.”
“Thanks, baby.”
I needed a nap.