Continuum (8 page)

“Miss Pierce, on this side.”  Ethan is part of my group and his eyes lock on me as I make my way across the room.  Mackenzie is facing him on the opposite team and I can practically feel the heat of her death glare as I join my team.  When I settle, she is still glaring at me so I muster the sweetest smile I can manage which only makes her glare heat up an octane.

The rules of the History Off are simple.  There is a bell on each side and the first person to hit the bell gets to answer.  If it’s right, you get a point.  If it’s wrong, you lose a point and the other team can confer and try to answer.  

Mrs. Douglas reads off the question, “What is the oldest political party in the western world?”

Ding!
Someone from my team hits the bell, “Republicans!”  I wince.  

“Incorrect, team A?”

They huddle together and after some murmuring, they respond with, “The Conservatives.”

“Correct.”

It goes back and forth until ten minutes before the end of class.  Team A is killing us: it’s 34 vs 28.  I purposefully fly under the radar only answering one question but I can’t help but cringe every time someone from my team answers the questions incorrectly.  Does anyone pay attention in class?  Or read the book?  My fellow teammates are giving me the side eye but they don’t say anything to me directly.  

Now it’s the Sudden Death round.  Each question is worth two points, but there can only be one representative from each time.  Team A chooses Mackenzie.  My teammates look at me expectantly, even Ethan, who has been studiously ignoring me this whole time.

Connor Stevens pipes up first, “You should represent our team, Fallon.”

“History isn’t my strongest subject.  You should do it,” I mumble.  Connor is only a Sophomore but on pace to be class valedictorian.

He snorts, “Bull crap.  We all know you’re a certified genius.  Plus Mackenzie would destroy the rest of my high school career if I beat her.”  

“Very well.  I guess I have the least at risk by defying Queen Mackenzie.”  Ethan eyes me inquisitively as I make my way to stand in front of the bell.

Mackenzie stands a little straighter and smirks as I approach.  I can tell she’s thinking I’m easy prey.  Rage courses through me and I practically see red.  Connor’s words echo inside my head but instead I find that
I
want to destroy
her
.  She’s used to chewing up and spitting out her opponents, but I will remind her just how worthy an adversary I could be.

Mrs. Douglas picks up her stack of notecards, “Who is the Grecian credited with reforming the constitution of ancient Athens and establishing a direct dem--?”

Ding!
  I hit the bell before she finishes reading, “Cleisthenes.”

“Correct.”  She flips to the next card, “What series of wars was fought between Rome and Carth--?”

I smack the bell again. 
Ding!
  “The Punic Wars.” 

“Correct.”  I can practically see the steam coming out of Mackenzie’s ears as Mrs. Douglas flips through her notecards, “Which Roman Emperor issued the Edict of Mil--?

Ding!
Ding!
Mackenzie hits her bell, but I’m faster and Mrs. Douglas turns to face me, “Constantine the Great.”

Mackenzie slams her fist onto the bell making it clang against the desk,  “Would you let her finish reading the damn question?”

I think I spot the faintest of smiles on Mrs. Douglas’s lips before she glances down at the next card, “This will be the last question.  Worth four points.  What is the correct order of the four emperors during the Year of the Four Emperors?”

When she finishes reading the question, Mackenzie’s jaw actually drops.  I smile and tap the bell softly.
 
I let the quiet
ding
trail off as I close my eyes and call up the answer to the last question,
 
“Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and Vespasian.”

“Correct, Miss Pierce.  Team B wins and will be awarded an extra five percentage points on tomorrow’s exam.”

My team lets out a big whoop and I get patted on the back several times as the bell rings.  Mackenzie is absolutely fuming as she stomps out of the classroom, practically dragging Ethan by the elbow.  He turns back and gives me a half-smiling, half-perplexed look as he’s led out of the room.

Day Four of Operation Elude Ethan, I run into Ethan and Mackenzie as they make their way to third period.  Her arm is snaked in his and she’s whispering and giggling in his ear as they make their way down the hallway.  

He is absently running his hand through his unruly hair when I narrowly avoid colliding into him as I rush out of English with an armful of Shakespeare books.  I’m trapped in the crowded hallway.  Ethan looks divine as ever in a simple blue oxford shirt and light gray blazer.  His dark slim cut jeans are splattered with specks of paint and rolled slightly at the ankles over his broken-in leather boots.

She is wearing a very tight, plum colored v-neck sweater, her long blonde hair framing her cleavage.  Her snug, low cut jeans show just a flash of tan skin as she walks.  With her high heeled boots, they are almost the same height.  They look like a picture perfect couple.

She’s so engrossed, she doesn’t pause to give me the death glare she’s been aiming my way anytime the opportunity struck.  She is angling for him to ask her out.  Probably to Homecoming.  They would make the perfect Homecoming king and queen.  The thought makes my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest.

His mesmerizing blue eyes are so distracting, I forget that I’m supposed to be avoiding him and my feet stay glued to the ground.  Ethan starts to smile but then his lips fall and he blinks rapidly as if remembering something unpleasant before turning his attention back to Mackenzie.  His smile at her is blinding and an unexpected jolt of pain lances through me as I turn away.  I am making a fool of myself.

“Excuse me,” Mackenzie says tartly, slamming into me with her shoulder on her way into the classroom and making me drop my books.

I bite back the angry words on the tip of my tongue.  I wait until she is inside the classroom before stooping down to pick up my books.  Balance is restored.  

This is going to be a long school year.

Ethan

It’s Friday night and I’m sitting in bed trying to tune my acoustic guitar.  I have spent the last half hour trying to do so, but my concentration just isn’t there.  Sighing, I give up and sit the guitar back in its stand.  I think about video chatting my brother Scott.  Glancing at my alarm and doing a quick calculation in my head, it’s 3:14AM over there. 

I pick up my cell phone from the night stand and scroll down my contacts list.  There is one person that might be able to keep me distracted this evening.

Hey Sam. What r u up 2 tonite?

My phone buzzes back almost immediately.

Meeting the guys for pizza @ fat tony’s on 8th and main at 10. u kno it? 

I quickly text my reply,
Yep, see u there.

NO GIRLS ALLOWED!!!

I couldn’t agree more.  I’ve had my fill of girls and their drama for the day.

Fat Tony’s Pizzeria is hard to miss.  Attached to the roof of the tiny restaurant is a fifteen foot tall neon cartoon rendering of Fat Tony tossing a giant pizza in the air.  I’m parking my motorcycle in the small parking lot a little after 10PM.  

Parked in the corner, I recognize Sam’s black Dodge Challenger with the double white stripes painted down the center.  Everything about the guy is a chick magnet.  I turn off my bike and remove my helmet, tucking it under my arm.  I brush my hands through my hair a few times to unstick it from my skull.  As I walk past Sam’s immaculately shiny car, I can’t help but run my hand along the hood.  Sometimes you just really want to hate the guy but he’s just too damn likable. 

There’s a soft tinkle of bells when I enter the crowded storefront.  Smells of garlic and cheesy goodness linger tantalizingly in the air.  Sam calls out my name and waves me over but they are easy enough to spot.  Three tables had been pushed together to accommodate the large group.  Empty red and white checkered paper lined baskets litter the length of the makeshift table.  They must have just finished round one of appetizers.  Hanging behind every chair is a navy blue lettermen’s jacket with a silver panther sewn into the upper left corner above the heart.  I remove my black leather jacket and sit down in the empty chair next to Sam.

He claps me on the back in greeting, “Glad you could make it, man.”

I wave at the others seated down the table and they nod back in acknowledgement.  “Sure thing, Sam.  I needed to get out of the house tonight.”  

He grins, “I hope you’re not too hungry.  I only managed to save you a mozzarella stick.”  

Sam hands me a small white plate with a lone mozzarella stick and a smear of marina sauce.  I can’t help but chuckle at the sad presentation.  “Thanks,” I tear into the gooey stick.  It tastes unbelievably delicious so I must really be hungry.  “How was the game?” 

“We obliterated them, 24 to 3,” replies Liam Griffin cheerfully.  Liam is Sam’s best friend since elementary school and my other Biology lab partner.  That shared history and level of trust is important as he plays left tackle for the Panthers.  “After all their seniors graduated last year, Lakeside’s football team is a joke.”

“Yeah, but they still have the hottest cheerleaders in the tri-county area,” chimes in Chris Glenn, the team’s star running back.  “Who was that girl you were seeing last year, Liam?  Samantha, Summer, Sandra something?”

Liam closes his eyes, relishing the memory, “That would be Miss Sheila Larson.  She is this year’s cheer captain, the sassy little blonde one on top of the pyramid.  Let’s just say she was very, very flexible.”  He winks and wiggles his eyebrows emphatically.  Sam groans loudly as the rest of the table erupts into laughter.

As the noise dies down, Liam turns to me, “Speaking of blonde hotties.  What about you, Ethan?  You and Mackenzie Brooks are quite an item, eh?”

I shrug it off and answer honestly, “Mackenzie and I are just friends.”

“I wish my friends looked like Mackenzie,” says Max Boretti, a wide receiver and the only sophomore on the varsity team.

Liam reaches over and musses up Max’s hair, “Oh, Max.  Maybe one day when you’re a big boy, you can hang with the pretty girls.”

Max pushes Liam’s hand aside and starts combing his hair with his fingers to get it back in place, “Seriously though, are you taking Mackenzie to Homecoming?”

“Why?  Are you going to ask her, prince charming?” Sam asks teasingly.

Max rolls his eyes in response, “Oh puh-lease, everyone wants to know.  She’s practically attached to Ethan’s side every minute of the school day.”

They all turn and look at me expectantly.  I take a sip of water before I reply, “Uhm, probably not.  School dances aren’t really my thing.”

Liam looks at me exasperatedly, “Dude, it’s Homecoming.  I know you haven’t been to high school stateside so let me draw you a picture.  Homecoming means insecure girls in skanky dresses vying for a stud’s attention.”

“Yeah and it’s Max’s only night to possibly talk to a girl,” adds Chris.  A breadstick goes flying across the table but Chris catches it easily and starts eating it.

Sam rolls his eyes and changes the subject, “You should really reconsider, Ethan.  Even if you decide to go stag.  We’re renting a party bus.” 

Not sure if I really want to know the answer, I blurt out, “Who are you taking, Sam?”

He shrugs and looks away, his fingers shredding a breadstick onto his plate, “No one yet.  But I have someone in mind.”

Feeling bold, I ask, “Fallon Pierce?”

Liam makes a choking sound into his glass of Coke and it’s a few moments before he can sputter, “Bro, please tell me you are not going down that road again.”

Now I’m really curious, “Again?”

Sam chews slowly on a piece of breadstick, staring thoughtfully at his plate, “Uhm, yeah.  Fallon and I, uhm, dated in the past.  But it was a million years ago.”

Chris interjects, “Dude, don’t downplay it.  It was ugly, Ethan.  U-G-L-Y.”

Max chimes in helpfully, “Fallon was the only girl to ever lock our boy down.  They dated for almost two years.”

Sam interrupts him with a growl, “Can you animals keep it down?  Geez, thank you for airing my dirty laundry to everyone at Fat Tony’s.”  

Liam frowns, crossing his arms across his chest, “That girl is bad news.”

“One, it was in the past.  We were like 12 years old and in middle school.  And two, no I am not asking Fallon to Homecoming.”

“God, that was a long time ago.  Remember when Fallon Pierce was the hottest girl in school?” Max says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Like hotter than Mackenzie.  Now she is just straight up weird,” adds Chris wistfully.

“You guys have been getting pret-ty cozy during lunch,” Max says in a sing song voice.

“She’s my partner for our big Shakespeare project.  It’s a big chunk of my grade and with practice and stuff, that’s the only time we get to work on it.  Why am I explaining myself to you knuckleheads?”

Chris groans, “Lucky bastard, she is a total genius.”

“No she’s not, she has like a photographic memory or something,” mutters Liam.

“Don’t discredit her genius just cause you’re a moron.  She reads a lot,” Sam says defensively.

In reply, he lets out a snort, “I still remember what you guys did to my locker in 7th grade.”

Sam’s lips split into a huge grin, “Oh, man.  That was good.”

Max plucks the question out of my head.  “What did you guys do to his locker?” 

“When Assistant Principal Taylor was assigning our lockers, Fallon got a glance at the master list of locker combinations.  She memorized all the locker combos on that page cause her mind is like crazy good at remembering things.  We used to break into people’s lockers and stuff water balloons or smelly gym socks in there.  One time, we wrapped Liam’s entire book bag with masking tape.”

The guys start laughing but Liam’s frown deepens and his tone is disapproving, “That isn’t funny, guys.  Don’t forget Fallon also broke Sam’s heart.  She is a straight up bit--”