Running Back To Him (5 page)

“Girls,” he says chuckling and shaking his head. The bell rings. I take a deep breath and brace myself to see the weirdest reaction on someone’s face after a proposition comes out of my mouth.

“Well, I need to get to class,” he says taking two books out of his locker.

“I’m headed that way,” I say, “I’ll walk with you.”

I’m in total shock. I can’t believe what just transpired. Kellen and I walk in a slow pace to the library, but my heart feels like I’ve just run a 5K marathon. I feel like I can conquer the world right now. It’s hands down one of the ballsiest things I’ve ever done. I stood up to her of all people. Mackenzie Jacobs!

I know I told myself I would leave the social media crap alone, but now might be the time to take a quick peek at it. She’s probably Snapchatting her suicide watch live from the bathroom from how humiliated she was. Serves her right.

But my feeling of comeuppance has faded. Kellen and I haven’t uttered a word since Mackenzie left. It’s just us two in the hallway and it’s dead silent.

“I’m late for class,” he says standing in front of the library’s double doors. “We have a project in my History class and we have to check out a few books.”

I nod, feeling the unease growing by the second. “Sorry, I made you late,” I say.

“No, it was my fault. I got you mixed up in my crap. That was wrong of me. Now Mackenzie is gonna have it out for you. That girl knows the definition of torment. They need to name a hurricane after her, but knowing her, she’d be proud about that.”

I want to ask him what in the world did he see in her, but I bite my tongue. No need to stir the pot of drama any more than it already has been. “But I do appreciate you helping me out back there,” he says. As you can see, some people take breakups really hard, even if they’re the ones who did the breaking up.”

“Breakups are pretty shitty,” I say. “I know all too well.” The muscles on the side of his face stiffen.

“Lucas is a jerk, I hope you know that,” he says through tight lips. “I know he’s my teammate but what he did to you was so wrong. I feel bad for you. Nobody deserves to be treated like that.”

My shoulders droop. On one hand it makes me sad to be reminded of an open wound, but on the other, I feel a bit elated that Kellen is even aware that I exist on his radar. I thought I fell off the face of his earth a long time ago.

“Such is life,” I say in a breathy tone.

He squints looking upwards. “Uh…I wonder if she really bought that stuff we said back there.”

I nod my head, my eyes attached to the ground. I bite the inside of my cheek. I fumbled my opportunity last night and now I was letting a prime chance to get the operation going go to waste.

This is the moment of truth. Time to woman up.

Chapter 6

“What if…what if kept it going?” I ask, picking at the skin of my thumb. I bet I’ve punctured the skin.

He rubs his chin, confused. “I don’t get it.”

I fold my arms and lean into him “You know…you and me…
faking
a relationship.” I bite my lip at the sound of the words me and him and relationship in a sentence.

“Wow,” he says, a gasp escaping his mouth.

I don’t know how to take that response. I can’t read him anymore. Five years ago I would have been able to know instantly what was on his mind, but now since it’s been eons apart, I’m totally clueless. I was totally yearning for ‘Sure Mags, why not. And you know what else, how about we don’t just pretend? How about I take you to Homecoming and then we take our friendship to the next level?’ That’s what I’ve been craving to hear him to say after all these years. But a girl could dream, right?

I breathe heavy through my nose and step on the gas. “Look I know you and I have…history,” I say, “and it’s kind of weird standing here with you to be honest. But considering the last few days you’ve had and the last few days that I’ve had, maybe this pretend thing could be the answer to solve both of our problems.” I pray he doesn’t notice all the fidgeting I’m doing with my thumbs. “Mackenzie doesn’t look like she’s going to let up anytime soon and I know the last thing you want to worry about is her when you have the biggest game of your life looming this Friday.”

Wow I’m getting pretty good at this. I’m practically convincing
myself
that this is a good idea and won’t crash and burn into a brush fire, incinerating the entire city.

“Wow, thanks for the pressure,” he says.

“You know what I mean. Think about it…if we did this, Mackenzie would get the hint and God knows the darkside of the rumor mill will let up on me for getting dumped the way I did.”

He folds his arms; his biceps flex across his colossal chest. I swallow hard. Gosh, he’s handsome without even trying.

“You really think this could work?” he asks, his right eyebrow lifting up.

I want to say that this idea is beyond looney, but the stakes are too high right now and this is the only thing I can think of that will solve my conundrum.

“Absolutely. I saw it on a movie. Worked like a charm. It’s like a fake handoff in football and the quarterback throws it instead. What’s that called again?”

“A play action pass?”

“That’s it!” I say nearly jumping off the floor.

Mr. Jones, the history teacher opens the door library door up. “I’m sorry to break up your mini study group Mr. Murdock and Ms. Graham, but I believe there’s a History class in session and you’re late. Good day Ms. Graham.” He shoots Kellen a stern look and goes back inside.

Kellen clears his throat. “This would never work,” he says. “You don’t know Mackenzie like I do. She probably plotting ways to get you back right now. This would just cause more drama and I definitely don’t need any more of that in my life at all. Especially before the game Friday.” His voice trails off. “I wish I could get back to the time when nobody knew who I was.”

His words strike a chord in me.

He pats me on the side of my arm. “Thanks for standing up for me back there though.” He grins slightly, opens the door and slides into the library.

I stand outside for minutes, feet stuck to the floor wondering what in the world just happened.

Plan B—thwarted.

Chapter 7

“You’ve been moping around this house for the last few days and I think it’s about time you let me know what’s going on,” Mom says to me, finishing the last of her peppermint tea. I’ve been standing in front of the refrigerator for at least four minutes, trying to find something that would ease the sour pit in my stomach. It formed right after Kellen pretty much slammed the door shut on me having a decent remainder of a senior year. It’s not his fault though. I can’t blame him for wanting to exorcise himself from all this drama that’s ensued.

“You haven’t been eating a thing either,” Mom says to me tugging on her maroon cardigan sweater. She’s beautiful in an aged-painting way. The kind you see at summer garage sales. She has a few gray streaks wiring through her silky strawberry blonde hair. Soft lines encase her mouth as she speaks. Her dark eyes are still radiant, though it’s been the roughest year for the two of us.

“Your eyes look sunken in. You’re not starving yourself are you? Or on drugs. These kids are popping pills these days like they’re Sour Patch Kids.”

She paces over and places her hand on my shoulder.

“Drugs?” I say, unable to hide my irritation. “I don’t drink
or
do drugs, Mom. You know that. And are you insinuating that I’m anorexic?”

She sighs. “Magnolia, I don’t know what to think. You never tell me anything anymore. Ever since you started running around with that quarterback and those girls.” She shakes her head. “What’s her name again? Appollonia?”

“It’s Ashley.” I gag at having to correct that demon seed’s name.

“Whatever it is, she talks like she’s a Valley girl. Knowing darn well she was born on the eastside of Flint.”

I chuckle. “Wow, what was that? A laugh?” she asks. “I haven’t heard one of those in weeks from you.” She sits back down. “But really, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

It warms my heart to know she at least asks about how I’m doing and showing some concern. Justine’s Mom is too concerned with a vodka bottle to worry if her seventeen year old daughter is running the streets or addicted to Vicodin.

“Thanks, Mom, but I got it covered. Just kind of knocked on my butt having to get adjusted to my sleep schedule.”

She takes a sip. “True. You did have hell of a summer. With your physical therapy internship at McLaren and a boyfriend and a bunch of new friends, no matter how prissy they are, you sure did have your hands full. I’d be tuckered out too.” She snickers to herself. “You just make sure those grades of yours don’t slip.”

“Now you know that’s definitely not going to happen.”

“That’s one thing I can count on, your grades have never slipped.” She looks out towards the window and sighs. “Even when your father and Pepper passed. You buried yourself in the books.”

I stood there, clenching the refrigerator door handle, my fingers coiled around it tightly. I nod, evading her eyes.

I clear the tinge of sadness in the back of my throat. “Mom, I’m not really that hungry, so I’m just gonna head upstairs. I have a lot of studying to do.”

She purses her lips and bobs her head, knowing that right now isn’t the best time to do any motherly prying.

***

“Next time you’d be better not to doubt me, old buddy, old pal,” Justine says from over the phone. She has this sinister, wicked witch tone in her voice like she’s rubbing her hands over a crystal ball. “It looks like our little plan worked.”

“What are you talking about?” I say lying down on my bed.

“The operation Kellen. Twitter’s abuzz right now. Everyone’s saying you and Kellen professed their love to one another in front of the library.”

I roll my eyes at how ridiculous it sounds. There was no one out there but us three.

“That’s totally not true.”

“Everyone is going crazy about it. They’re saying the two of you are together. I can’t believe it worked. Oh my God. They’ve given you a nickname, like KimYe.”

My shoulders deflate.

“Please, no,” I say burying my face in my palm.

“It’s Kelgnolia.”

I groan. “Oh my Jesus. That sounds like butt deformity.” She snorts. “Just, this is so not funny.”

“It is,” she says between chuckles. “It’s so bad. How about Magellan?”

“I’ve gone from a name that sounds like an incurable body deformity to a sixteenth century explorer.”

She snorts louder. “Where have I been all these years? I’ve missed out on this Twitter thing. I swear these people are comedians.”

“Don’t get your hopes up though. Kellen didn’t go for it.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah. You should’ve seen his face when I told him about the plan. We spoke,” I sigh. “You should’ve seen the way he looked at me when I told him about it. He looked at me like I had three eyes.”

“That bad huh? So, what’s your next move?”

“Go down to the courthouse, change my name to Esmeralda Golovkin and move to New Mexico.”

She chuckles. “Obviously you’ve given this some thought. I would’ve guessed you’d just lock yourself in your room and never come out.”

“Oh, I plan on doing that, and then in a week I’m moving to New Mexico.”

“Send me a postcard.”

Mom knocks on my bedroom door. “Magnolia, somebody’s here to see you.”

I grunt. “If it’s Lucas, tell him I’m not here,” I yell back to her. “Lie for me please. I’ve never asked you to lie for me, but please, just this once.”

“I knew Lucas would come crawling back,” Justine says. “I just didn’t think it would be this soon.”

“I hope it’s not some random somebody that I have gym class with who just happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi and wants to tell me I should join her to key Lucas’s car up in revenge.” Justine and I snicker.

“It’s not Lucas,” Mom says. It’s an oldie but goodie. It’s Kellen.”

So this is what it feels like when your heart stops beating.

I shoot up from my bed and yank my pillow across the room like a Frisbee.

“I’ll call you back,” I say frantically. I press end on my phone before Justine can even say a word.

I dart over to the mirror and fix my hair that’s been matted from burrowing my head into my pillow.

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” Mom howls from downstairs.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot,” I burble to myself. I hop back and forth on each foot, trying to stamp out the paralyzing fear coursing through my veins. It’s not working. I grab my favorite bottle of perfume and spray some on my wrist and below my neck. I rake my fingers through my hair to loosen the tangled mess. I
could
throw a hat on, but who wears a hat in their own house?

I laser over to the closet and swipe through a few sundresses that I could throw on. Noooo. That’s entirely too much. I could lie to him and say I was about to hit the mall or something, but knowing my blabber-mouth of a Mom, she’d definitely spill the beans about me being holed up in the bunker called my bedroom.

“Magnolia Apple Graham!” Mom barks. “Down here now!”

“Coming Mom!” She just
had
to say my middle name didn’t she?

Argh!

If I don’t find something cute to throw on, I’m going to have a panic attack in forty-five seconds.

I jab left and right through jeans, hoodies, and dresses, dumbfounded in a moment of desperation. “What do I do? What do I do?” I grab a bunch of clothes off the rack and throw them onto the floor trying to find that needle in a haystack.

“Yoga pants!” I screech. A girl can never go wrong with yoga pants. My throat finally loosens and the proverbial monkey leaps off my back.

After a few more yelps from my Mom to get my narrow behind downstairs, I finally make my grand entrance.

Kellen and Mom and are standing in the hallway. Mom glares at me doing a double-take seeing that I’ve changed from a hoodie and boxers with Yoda on the front to a cute white tank top and black yoga pants complete with a beaded necklace and a quick swath of eyeliner and pink lip gloss.

“Finally, you decided to grace us with your royal presence,” my Mom says.

“Sorry,” I say biting inside of my bottom lip.

“What a treat,” she says. “Kellen hasn’t been in the old neighborhood since—”

“—It’s been a while,” he says bashfully. My eyes fall on his heaven-sent lips that curve into a smile. He’s wearing black cargo pants, a slim fitting white-tee and black Converse All-Stars. So hot. I clench my jaws shut, so I don’t drool and look like a total lame-o.

“Sure has been a while, Mom says. “And he definitely isn’t the skinny boy with braces he used to be.”

My eyes grow wild. Please tell me this isn’t happening. I need a Xanax? I don’t think I can take much more stress on my central nervous system.

Kellen brushes it off, waiving his hand, he’s a pro at handling humiliating compliments.

“Where’d he get all those muscles from?” Mom asks niftily. My eyes narrow and my lips thin out instantly. My Mom is really flirting with a seventeen-year-old boy. Please, Jesus…no.

“I bought them at The Muscle Store,” Kellen says winking. “And Mrs. Graham, you haven’t aged a day at all.” Her faces ignites red.

This has got to stop.

I seize Kellen’s hand and pull him upstairs before this can get any worse than it is already. “Uh…Kellen let’s go upstairs,” I say breaking up the heightened discomfort that’s about to strangle me.

When I grabbed Kellen’s arm, we walk upstairs and I lead him by his hand. His touch is electric and by the time we get to my bedroom door, I’m out of breath, smitten by the feeling of my hand in his.

Even though we’re now standing in the middle of my bedroom, I haven’t let go of his hand and he hasn’t bothered letting go either. It’s weird, it’s unforeseen, but it feels marvelous.

And before I know it, it’s over. He says looking down at our clasped hands, “I think I’m going to need that back.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Uh, my hand,” he says.

I snatch mine away. “Sorry,” I say, “I got a little carried away. I wanted to pull you out the barrage of bullets that my Mom shot at you. You know how she is.”

“It’s fine. She’s just being a mom.”

He looks down at the shrapnel of pants, belts and capsules of lip gloss lying in the middle of the floor. It looks like a war-torn village.

I chuckle nervously. “Sorry for…the uh…mess,” I say kicking the clothes out of the way. “So what can I do for you? Did I forget another record or something?”

“No, it’s not that.” He swipes his hands down his face down. “Earlier I told you…about this…plan. Sorry if I blew you off or thought you were crazy.”

I lower my head. “It was a kind of a crazy idea,” I say. “It would’ve never worked anyways.” I shake my head and sit on the edge of the bed.

I look down on the floor at the foot of the bed. My heart sinks. My Frodo doll. I slide my feet in front of it. With the back of my heel, I kick the doll under the bed, praying he didn’t see it. I was playing with it before he got here. Sue me, I needed something to distract me from the pins and needles that poked my skin from the anxiety.

“But what if it does?” he asks surging onto the bed, sitting right next to me.

The suddenness of him being seated so close jolts me.

We’ve sat on this very bed hundreds of times. But now it’s different. Before, there were SpongeBob bedsheets…well there still
are
SpongeBob bedsheets. But I don’t play with toys anymore and he didn’t look like a Calvin Klein super model or have muscles like Wolverine. From the inches that separate us, I feel the heat radiating from him. I cross my legs and curl my toes.

“What are you saying?”

He turns to face me more, his entire body fronting me. I sit tightly, facing the closet, unable to lock eyes with his baby blues. The intensity is melting me.

“I’m
saying
if we took time to plan this, it just might work,” he says. “It does sound a little wild, but with everything that’s going on, I think it just might be what we both need.”

“Why the change of heart?” I ask. He leaps off the bed and pounds his fist into his palm, making a loud smack.

“Mackenzie. She’s lost her mind.”

“And the sky is blue. What else is new?”

“Deep down she’s a good person.” My head shoots back, shocked that he’s sticking up for her. But I can’t knock him. That
is
his ex-girlfriend. I go back and forth defending Lucas against the daggers that Justine launches at him.

But I can’t let a good joke go to waste. “Gremlins are cute and fuzzy too, but if you feed them after midnight, all hell breaks loose.”

“Okay, you got me there. Anyways, about a half hour ago, Mackenzie showed up at my house flooring her Range Rover up and down my block, honking her horn like a mad woman. She caused so much drama, my Grandpa to come out and make her leave.” He sits back down on the bed, closer this time. The tension wells up again. “We have to do something. I know this fake relationship thing sounds crazy… but I’m in. One hundred and ten percent.”