OCDaniel (17 page)

She smiled. “I had to save up a really long time for it. Come over here. Jay is trying to argue that
The Terminator
is the best movie of all time. You have to help me put him in his place.”

“And what movie are we arguing for?”

She looked at me like it was obvious. “
Love Actually
. Let's go.”

Before I knew it, I was sitting next to Raya. Like, close. We were actually touching legs, and I was tingling so much, I forgot what normal felt like. Eventually I managed to convince Raya and Jay that they were both wrong, and everyone decided to watch
The Shining
next, which was definitely not my choice, because I hate horror movies and would probably have nightmares. But I couldn't admit that.

“Are we going to play any games tonight?” Taj asked loudly.

“Like what?” Raya said.

He shrugged. “Spin the bottle? I don't know.”

“Let's play!” Clara said, giggling.

I exchanged a look with Max. He didn't look thrilled. I wasn't either. The mere thought of kissing someone sent my stomach into a backflip. What if I did it wrong? What if they all laughed at me? What if I had to kiss Raya and she said no?

There was no time to think. We were all sitting in a big circle in a matter of minutes. Clara was still giggling, Taj was talking really loudly, and I was sitting directly across from Raya Singh. Max was next to me, and he was quiet as well.

“I'm up!” Taj said, leaning forward and spinning a soda bottle. It landed on Max. “Just like I planned,” he said over the laughter, winking at Max. “Ready?”

“Spin again,” Max said, laughing.

He spun, and it landed on Ashley, and they exchanged a quick peck, though Taj tried to hold it a little longer. She sat down, shaking her head, and everyone broke out laughing again. I tried to laugh too, but I was feeling sick again, I was so nervous. I kept shooting little glances at Raya.

Tom Dernt and Ashley went before it was Clara's turn. She spun, and it landed on me. I don't even want to know how red I must have turned. Max looked at me, breaking out in laughter as everyone cheered and teased and Clara scowled like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. She crawled forward, and Max pushed me along to do the same. I thought I might puke. That would not be cool. I made it to the middle of the circle, and we pecked to more cheers. Her lips were really soft and tasted like strawberries, but I was way too freaked out to enjoy it. She retreated like I had tried to attack her or something. I slunk back to my spot, still burning with embarrassment. Max patted my back.

“Nice work.”

“Thanks,” I murmured.

I was still trying not to meet anyone's eyes when Raya spun the bottle. It landed on me.

I didn't even realize what was happening at first. Then I heard Taj shout “He rigged the bottle!” and I looked up to see the bottle and Raya behind it, smiling at me shyly. For a moment I only saw her.

She started toward the bottle. This time I didn't need a shove.

I made my way toward her, trying to remember where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I just kept looking at her eyes and her smile.

We met at the bottle, paused for a moment, and then kissed.

She held it for just a second, and I wasn't about to be the one to break it off. Our lips met fully—not like the bare touch from Clara. I felt my lips push in, full force, and I didn't hear anything else. That is, until I heard a deep angry voice from the stairs.

“Raya Senya Singh!” her father snapped, looming on the stairs. “Get up here
now
.”

The party ended early. Raya came back and said everyone had to leave, looking humiliated and miserable and angry.

“My dad's a nut,” she said. “Sorry. Next time Clara can host.”

I was hiding in the background next to Max. When Raya had hurried up the stairs, her father had given me a look that was pretty much the scariest thing I've ever seen. I didn't think I was welcome back anytime soon. As people called their parents and we filed toward the stairs, I tried to stay close to Max and Taj so I could hide behind them. Raya was at the bottom, saying good-bye to people.

“Sorry,” she said when I walked by. “Kind of awkward.”

I managed a smile. “Best first kiss ever,” I joked.

She laughed. “Just like I always dreamed.”

And with that, I was past her, and when I got upstairs, her dad was in the living room, so I scurried to the front and put my shoes on. He glanced over, and his dark eyes flashed through his glasses.

“We can walk,” Max said.

“Yeah.”

We hurried outside and started down the street, shoving our hands into our pockets against the evening cold. It was November now, and the wind was biting. Scattered leaves were already blowing along the street. We kicked through them as we walked. Max glanced at me.

“Worth it?”

“Totally.”

He nodded. “Figured. You went from zero to two tonight. Not bad.”

“What can I say? I'm a playa.”

“Never say that again.”

I laughed. “Agreed.”

We cut across a park to the other end of town.

“How many have you kissed?” I asked.

“Too many to count.”

I stared at him, and he sighed.

“Zero.”

I shook my head, watching the blanket of stars overhead. I was still thinking about the kiss.

“How is that possible? Every girl in school likes you.”

He shrugged. “Just haven't gotten there. I don't know. I'm sure I will in high school.”

As we crossed through the darkness, I suddenly broke out laughing.

“What?” he said.

“I kissed someone before you.”

He scowled. “Luck.”

“It still counts.”

“Just try to refocus for the game tomorrow,” he said. “It's going to be a tough one.”

I sighed as we turned onto the street, lit up with the warm orange glow of the streetlights. The stars faded in the light, and we continued on toward the intersection where we would split up.

“Why did you have to ruin my night?”

Max laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “You'll do great.”

“And if I don't?”

“Then I get to kick your butt after the game.”

I smiled. “Deal.”

When I got home, the house was quiet and still. Emma was asleep, and Steve was still out, probably at a party somewhere. He was always at a party somewhere. I crept upstairs, my footsteps loud in the silence even as I tiptoed along, hoping to not wake my mother. Dad slept like a log, but Mom was always on the edge of alertness, waiting for Steve and me and never quite resting. I knew the feeling. Sometimes I felt like I never rested either. . . . There was always a thought or Zap or fear waiting for me.

But that night I was still glowing from the kiss with Raya. I knew there was just a hint of lip gloss still on my own lips, but I was not going to clean that off. I kept getting little hints of strawberry like she was still there. The Routine was faster that night. One hour and forty-two minutes to get to bed, and only because I got Zapped crossing the bedroom with eight steps, and I had to go back. It took thirty minutes to cross the bedroom, and by the time I lay down, my legs were sore and aching.

But even then I could taste the strawberries, and it pushed the fears away.

I slept soundly, hoping for a thunderstorm to cancel the game in the morning.

There's only so much luck to go around, I guess.

  •  •  •  

It was rainy and cold, but there was no lightning. In Erie Hills you have to have some serious lightning to call a game off, and cold weather certainly wasn't going to do it. And so we marched out onto the field in the misting, clinging haze that slunk underneath my uniform and sunk deep into my skin. I was shivering by the time I lined up for the kickoff.

The Badgers were huge. From the other side of the field, they eyed me like their namesake—all dark eyes and twitching muscles and looking at me like I was a rabbit and certainly not an elephant. Despite the weather the stands were packed again, even more than last time, with the traveling Badgers fans that made up their own troop on the far side. Parents were standing and cheering and watching.

Raya was there too. She and Clara were huddled up in rain slickers and hats, watching from the second row. I caught her eye, and she smiled and gave me a wave.

I felt my stomach weaving itself into a pretzel again. Last night felt really far away.

The whistle blew. I pulled my leg back to kick and didn't really plant the other one. I hadn't practiced much in the rain. As a result, I felt my left plant leg sliding forward inevitably as I kicked.

It was like I slipped on a banana peel. I spilled backward, barely connecting with the football and sending it dribbling down the field. I landed in the mud with a splat and a very ungraceful flapping of my arms. I sank an inch deep. I could hear the laughter in the stands.

Good start.

The rest of the game didn't go much better. The Badgers were a great team, and they had one player in particular who might as well have been playing for Penn State. He was a big, burly kid with curly red hair poking out below his helmet, and legs like pistons. Apparently his name was Curt Stoughton, and he was being scouted out of eighth grade. As he crushed another one of our guys, I could see why.

Luckily for us, Max was also having the game of his life. He scored three touchdowns before half, including an amazing diving catch in the end zone that sent the parents into a frenzy. I heard his mom screaming out from the bleachers as he ran back to the sidelines, grinning.

And then there was me. I managed to kick off the ball successfully twice, but also managed to fall yet again on another. I only made one extra point out of three attempts, and Coach Clemons hadn't even tried me on a field goal yet, despite the team's being in range on several occasions. We punted from thirty yards at one point, which was definitely in my range. I didn't mind. I would have punted from the ten if we could.

There was a minute left in the third when my luck ran out.

We closed in to the twenty-one and then got stopped on third down after Curt burst through our offensive line and sacked our quarterback for the fifth time. He was relentless. Everyone turned to me.

Sighing, I started to trot out to the field, when Coach caught my arm.

“You can do this, Leigh,” he said, his fingers tight on my elbow. “We practiced for this. Thirty to twenty-seven. Big play here. You can level us up. You all right?”

“I think so—”

“Good. Get out there.”

I ran out to the lineup, and Max just nodded at me and lined up for the hold. We were just a bit to the left, and I knew I had to kick it nice and straight or it would hook left in the wind. Nice and straight.

“Hut!”

The ball flew back a bit high. Luckily Max was there, because he caught the tough snap and managed to get it down and save a disaster. But it took longer than usual. Curt crashed through our front line like a bulldozer, closing in fast. I had a second or two at most. I sped up my steps and prepared to kick, knowing I was probably too late. Curt was going to block it. I think Max realized it at the same time.

He pulled the ball away at the last second, after I had already started my kick. My leg sailed clean through where the ball had been, and I slipped backward with the momentum. Curt was diving forward, his mitt-like hands spread wide for the block. He caught my cleat instead. My right foot smashed into his hand, and I heard him shriek as my foot connected with his fingers. We both crashed to the ground beside each other as Max was tackled to our right, clinging to the ball.

I looked over and saw Curt holding his hand. One of his fingers was bent sideways.

“Uh-oh,” I murmured.

He was helped off the field soon after and taken to the hospital. I heard someone say he'd broken two fingers. Without their star, the Badgers fell apart. Our offense started to pick them apart, and we won comfortably at fifty to thirty-eight. When the clock ran out, Coach Clemons came straight to me and shook my arm gleefully.

“You did it again, Danny. You're a good-luck charm. State finals next week. You're in.”

With that, he went to join the celebrations, and I sank onto the bench.

Not again.

The highways were longer when they were empty. The countryside rolled past—hills and moors and little towns clumped together like mushroom caps. Daniel and Sara saw no more shapes, but there were still birds flying overhead, untroubled by the emptiness below.

Sara drove with her eyes locked on the road, fiery and intent. Daniel knew her from school, but he had never seen her like this. She was shy and distant and peculiar, sticking to herself and mostly reading in the corners. Now she was a warrior. A survivor.

“What else do you know about the stations?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Only what I managed to overhear from my father. He would never tell me anything. But I know they are called Watchers and that the stations link together in a certain pattern. He told me that most people think you can only find space by going out. He said you could also find it by going in. I think he meant dimensions. Alternate realities.”

“And so you think I opened a door.”

“Exactly. The humans went in, and something else came back out.”

“But why not us?” Daniel asked.

“Obviously we're special,” she replied. “Different somehow. And it's our job to fix it.”

She went silent for a moment.

“And I want to find my dad.”

Daniel let the silence hold for a while again. “Do you think we can save them?”

“I hope so. Once we get to New York—”

She was cut off by a tree flying out onto the street. Sara slammed on the brakes, and we skidded sideways, both of us crying out as the tree raced toward us. We stopped just in time, missing it by inches. Sara and I looked at each other, eyes wide.