Pretty Dark Nothing (13 page)

She was all around him now, her emotions pulsing through him like a soft electric current, warm, excited, making him forget all about finding the truth about what happened in the locker room. All he wanted was to run his fingers through her hair and press his lips against hers. Quinn’s heart pounded, and his sped to match hers, beat for beat. She wanted him to kiss her. He felt the longing emanating off her like a magnetic pulse. He tried once more to focus and break the connection before he gave in, but their minds were too tightly joined. She reached for him, and he responded, pulling her closer. The touch released a fire bolt though him that erased every reason he could think of to stay away from her. As their lips collided, so did their souls, and the world between them melted away.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

One minute Quinn had been gazing, searching through Aaron’s two pools of golden-green as something brushed against her thoughts, a soft kiss in her mind. It made her hungry for the real thing, and she leaned closer, inhaling the very essence of him, the ocean breeze, pine, and a hint of sunshine. Intoxicated by a burning brightness in the windows of his soul, she wanted to drown herself in his light, in his lips. The next thing she knew, her hands were in his hair, his hands were on her waist, her lips pressed against his, and it felt so good, so right.

“Quinn?”

She pulled away from Aaron, panting. Dazed and confused, she turned an angry glare toward the voice that dared interrupt a perfect moment.

Jeff loomed over them, shooting Aaron a look that could kill. The sight of him brought her back to earth, and she jumped to her feet and straightened her top.

“Coach White sent me to look for you.” Jeff took in her slight mussed hair, bruised knees, and scratched hands. “What the hell?” He glared at Aaron again before turning back to Quinn. “Are you okay?” He brushed a blond strand from her cheek and encircled her in familiar arms, hugging her tight.

Quinn stiffened. She didn’t know what to do. A day, even an hour ago this is exactly where she would have wanted to be. But now?

He cupped her chin, lifting it until her eyes found his. Genuine concern etched in the furrow of his brow. “I was worried about you.”

He still cared. She closed her eyes, relaxing into his hug, and she could almost pretend the last painful two months never happened. Like they never broke up.

“I’m fine. Aaron and I were … ”

“Talking,” Aaron said.

“Yes, talking. That’s all,” Quinn said.

Awkward silence bore down on the three of them. She couldn’t bear to look at Aaron, to see the hurt on his face. But she couldn’t look at Jeff, either. Part of her heart still clung to the possibility of getting back together with Jeff. The other part pined for Aaron, his touch, the electricity between them. The tug-of-war confused and exhausted her, and she buried her head into Jeff’s arms to avoid both their gazes.

Jeff stroked her back and whispered in her ear, “The pep rally is almost over. Coach White’s on the rampage. You better not go anywhere; she wants to talk to you.” He kissed her cheek, letting it linger a little too long, glared at Aaron, and then went back into the gym.

“I better get back before I get detention.” Aaron clenched his jaw and turned on his heel. “Good luck with Coach White,” he called over his shoulder, his tone an arctic chill to her heart.

“Wait!” Quinn ran the few feet to catch up with him. “Thanks.” She wanted to hug him, but his arms were folded across his chest. “I mean it.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him.

Aaron shrugged. “Sure.” His curt tone stung as he slammed the door behind him.

Quinn leaned against the wall and waited for the pep rally to end and Coach White’s lecture to begin. The second hand on the hall clock dragged:
tick
tick
, a monotone metronome. If the fog reappeared, she could dart into the gym without hesitation, even if it meant certain embarrassment. If the fog was even real in the first place. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

Her skin still tingled, the revenant of Aaron’s touch—or Jeff’s? She tasted salt as a tear dripped onto her lips. She pursed them, wondering if she would ever feel Jeff’s lips on hers again—or Aaron’s. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve, blinking back tears. Everything in her life was spinning out of control, and she didn’t know who to turn to. She no longer trusted her own emotions, judgment, or sanity. And if she couldn’t trust herself, how could she trust anyone else?

She startled as the gym doors squeaked open. Kerstin and Spring headed the pack, grinning like deranged hyenas.

“Changing the middle basket toss to a Kewpie was brilliant. Let’s keep the routine like that. You’re much better at choreography than Quinn,” Spring said.

“Thanks, Spring, that’s a great idea. And your dismount was perfect.”

Jeff, silent, walked alongside Kerstin like a dog on a leash. When they reached the locker room doors, Kerstin put her arm around his waist and kissed him.

“I’ll see you at the game, baby. Love you,” she said loud enough for the whole universe to hear.

“Yeah.” Jeff glanced at Quinn, gave Kerstin a peck on the cheek, and then followed the others into the locker room.

With Jeff gone, Kerstin turned her attention to Quinn. “Where you been, loser?” She smirked and elbowed Spring as she took in the sight of Quinn’s disheveled hair and bruised legs. “Oh. My. God. Looks like someone’s spent the last hour on their knees.” She doubled over with laughter. “Who’s the lucky guy? Hope he paid you well for your services.” She opened the locker room door and pushed Spring inside. “Later, freak.”

Quinn licked her fingertips and frantically rubbed at the dirty streaks covering her pale skin. Of course she looked like a freak; she’d had a major freak out in the locker room.

“Are you okay?” Teresa pulled Quinn into a corner. “What happened? I thought you were right behind me.”

No. I’m not okay. I’m scared, Reese. I think I’m crazy. Do you think demons are real? Of course you sound crazy, Quinn.

“Earth to Quinn. What the hell happened? I mean, look at you.”

“I went to pee, and when I came out of the stall, I slipped and fell on a puddle of water or something. I knocked the mirror off the wall. It came crashing down, and I freaked out a little.”

“God, Quinn. Are you hurt?”

“No. Well, a little bruised, but I’m fine, really.” Quinn looked away and crossed her arms.

“And?”

“And what?”

“You know what.” Reese tapped her foot.

“And I ran into Aaron, all right?” Quinn shrugged.

Reese looked amused. “Ran into his lips more like it.”

“I never said that.” Quinn smoothed her hair back into place.

“You didn’t have to. Your smeared lipstick said it for you.”

“Crap.” Quinn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I know I told you to use Aaron to get over Jeff, but making out with him during the pep rally? Bad idea. Kerstin made a big deal about you not being a team player. Coach White’s on the warpath.” Reese ran a hand through her hair and cocked her head. “Was it worth it? At least tell me his lips were so hot they could melt ice.”

Coach White shoved open the double doors, and Quinn cringed. She’d never seen her so angry and dreaded what would come next.

“Ms. Taylor, my office, now.” She didn’t even look at Quinn. “Ms. Moon, the locker room, pronto.”

***

Mrs. White’s cramped office smelled like sweat and stale coffee. Pictures of previous Westland High cheerleading squads hung in black frames on one side of the beige walls. On the other side were pictures of the girls’ basketball teams. The gray-framed desk stood stark except for an empty jar of peanut butter and a can of diet soda.

“Have a seat, Quinn.” She pointed to a faded, red vinyl chair—a startling splash of color in the otherwise bland room.

Quinn sat. The vinyl squeaked beneath her bare legs.

“What happened?” Coach White leaned back in the chair.

“I—” Quinn started, her mind racing, searching for an answer that would sound more truthful than the truth.

“You missed the entire pep rally,” Coach White said.

“Yes, and—”

“First, your grades, now skipping out on your team. I picked you as head cheerleader because I thought you were responsible.” Coach White leaned forward in her chair, slamming her hand on the edge of the desk. “Even though you’re on probation, you still have a responsibility to this school and to your teammates. We had a deal. Attend all practices, help me coach, and get your grades up. Are you tired of being a cheerleader?” She stared at Quinn, waiting for an answer.

“No, ma’am. Cheerleading means everything to me.” Quinn sat up straight and looked Coach White in the eye.

“You’re not acting like it.” Coach White leaned back in the office chair and studied Quinn. “Actions speak louder than words. I’ve spoken to your teachers. You’re still failing.”

“I still have two weeks to bring my grades up.”

“One week. Grades are out next Friday, or have you forgotten? And from what I’ve seen, that would take a miracle. What am I supposed to do?” Coach White sighed.

Quinn’s stomach rolled. She shifted in the big red chair, the temperature rising in the stuffy little room as sweat gathered on the back of her legs, the heat fusing her skin with the vinyl.

“You’re a better captain than Kerstin, but my hands are tied. If you’re still failing when report cards come out next week, and I know for a fact you will be, I’m suspending you for the rest of the semester.”

“What? You can’t!”

“Quinn, you’ve given me no other choice. As of today, Kerstin will permanently be captain. I have to have someone reliable in that position. You understand. As of next Friday, you will be suspended, and we’ll reassess at the end of the semester.”

Quinn had expected a lecture, but
suspended
? She almost choked on the bitter pill being forced down her throat.

“I can’t suspend you until I see your report card, so think of this as your last game. You will ride the bus to the game with the rest of us as usual, but you won’t be allowed on the field, you won’t participate in warm ups, and you won’t wear your uniform. That deal is over. I want the squad to get used to Kerstin’s leadership, and I can’t have them divided. You’ll sit in the stands and watch, take mental notes, and help Kerstin with the transition during practice next week. We leave at six o’clock sharp.”

Of course she’d been suspended. Stupid Quinn, what did she think would happen? Shadow voices lurked in the back of her mind, urging her thoughts into a downward spiral.

“
Failure
.”

“
Irresponsible.
”

“
Untrustworthy
.”

Their whispers melded with what she feared to be true. She couldn’t argue. They were right: she was a failure. Tears threatened to fall, but she refused to let Coach White see her hurting. Then the whispers dissolved into nothingness, leaving the faintest echo imprinted in her mind. Her insides had been carved away, leaving an empty shell of herself. One more blow, and she would crumble into a pile of dust.

Coach White’s expression softened. Putting her elbows on the table, she laced her fingers, resting her chin on her hands. “I heard about what happened yesterday. You look like you’ve lost some weight, and don’t think I haven’t noticed those dark circles. Have you been eating enough?”

Coach White’s words were like a TV playing in another room. Numbed to the core, she perceived her own voice as part of that same ambient TV show. “I’ve been a little tired. I guess I’m a little stressed with senior stuff.” Then the implications of Coach White’s question sunk in, snapping Quinn out of her daze. “No, no, I’m not puking or starving myself or anything like that.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Promise me you’ll get a tutor if you have to. Do whatever it takes to get those grades up. Regional competition is in March, and we need you if we want to advance.”

Her head hurt, and she wanted to get out of this oven of an office and find a deep, dark hole to hide in.

Quinn nodded. Getting her grades up by next week would be impossible. Suspension was imminent. This would be her last football game as a Westland High Filly, ever. And if she didn’t get it together soon, there would be nothing left of her life worth saving.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Aaron weaved his motorcycle through the school parking lot. Just short of reckless, he darted down the back streets and alleyways to avoid traffic. What he really needed was a cold shower to get her out of his mind. Her smell clung to his clothes, invading his nostrils. He still felt the touch of her soft skin, the lingering passion from her thoughts.

Aaron accelerated, thrusting forward in his seat. The wind took his breath away and whipped through the fabric of his clothes, the tail of his shirt flapping behind him. He focused on the hum of the bike beneath him and let his mind go blank, invoking a state of Zen as he sped across the Westland county line and into Eastwoood. He blurred past houses and bounced over bumps and potholes, trees and buildings whizzing by.

He cut a sharp left up a narrow dirt road. Bits of gravel pinged against the metal body as the tires kicked up bits of debris. The engine roared as he poured on the speed. St. Angeles Chapel stood three hundred feet before him—its stone bell tower standing stark against the bright sky.

The tires squealed as he skidded to a stop in front of the old church. Breathless, he removed his helmet and dismounted. He stood beneath the gothic stone entry arch and pushed at the large wooden door, its metal hinges groaning with the weight of heavy oak as it swung open.

His footsteps echoed off the nave’s stone floor. Light streamed through the unbroken stained glass window at the back, casting a patchwork of color across the dust-covered pews and the large cross suspended from the ceiling.

St. Angeles: his thinking place, his sanctuary. His mood lifted as he sat, cross-legged, before the disused altar. He thought about Quinn and their connection. Could she feel it too?

If she did, wouldn’t she say something about it? The connection was all in his head, one-sided, a delusion. Watching the way she reacted when Jeff came in was proof enough. It was Jeff she wanted, and thinking anything else was a sure set-up for heartbreak, and his heart was already cracking under the weight of his obsession; he couldn’t take any more.