Lane (Made From Stone Book 1) (3 page)

We are in the last few minutes of what appears to be our last game of the season. I can't lie, I’m a little upset we didn’t make it further but I’m proud that we got our first district champ title in over twenty years.

“We have nothing to be ashamed of boys! Look how far we’ve come. I couldn't be more proud. It’s been a good year, now let's go back out there and play our hearts out! Go show them who we are and what we’re capable of!” I say to my team that is looking increasingly disappointed. We’re trailing by twenty-one points to last years state champions, and it looks like the Riverview Tigers will win this year as well.

“Don’t walk off this sideline with your heads down. Hold them high! Hold them high, boys!” I say, trying to motivate my team. They do as I ask and put their game faces on before they head back onto the field.

As I stand on the sideline in this freezing November weather, I feel a stab of disappointment that football season has ended. I rush out onto the field to shake Coach Moore’s hand and congratulate him and his team on their success this season. While running back to the sideline, I look to the stands and see some of my family. It always reminds me of my high school and college football games; someone was always there to watch me play. I can see my dad clapping and even though we just lost, I feel very proud of what we accomplished this year. I wave to the stands in thanks for all of their support. As my eyes sweep back to the sideline, they meet Mallory’s. I can’t help but stop and look her over. Beautiful. All the other cheerleaders have walked off but she’s still standing there clapping. I nod in her direction to acknowledge my appreciation.

We head into the locker room so I can give words of encouragement to graduating seniors and motivation to the young men who’ll be returning next year. It’s always hard to say goodbye to the seniors. They’ve become family to me throughout the daily practices and the hard-fought battles we faced during the season. I can only hope they stay on the right path. Who knows, maybe one of them will make it to the NFL.

After I get my speech out, I decide to wait a little longer to let the crowd dwindle. I’m usually bombarded with fathers telling me what positions their sons should play and single mothers who’ve made me some sort of bake goods, and I’m not in the mood to deal with either of those situations tonight.

I’m meeting my brothers and cousins at Hansons, an old bar my parents still hang out in. My Aunt Kerrigan bought it a couple years back and revamped the place to what she referred to as its "former glory." She refused to change the name because it holds so much meaning to her and my Uncle Maddox. It's where they first met and fell in love. I glance around the locker room and as I start walking toward the door and overhear a couple of the guys talking.

“Is Mallory going?” Chad asks.

“I doubt it. She never shows up to those things,” says another player.

“That’s too bad. I gotta get her nose out of the books and her mouth on my dick,” Chad replies.

Rolling my eyes, I think to myself, that’s probably why we lost tonight. All they ever think about is getting laid. I guess I can’t complain too much because it’s exactly what I did in high school, hell, what I’m still doing now. Miss Conley, or Jill I should say, and I aren’t an exclusive couple but who knows, it looks like it’s headed that way. I stay at her place more than my own. I guess the next step is moving in together. She’s hot, she’s a freak in bed, and she’s incredibly smart, which is what I find most attractive in any woman. I’m not sure what’s holding me back from asking her if she wants to officially date.

When I no longer hear anyone, I head out to the parking lot and see Mallory, in tears, standing by her car in the freezing cold. Worried something has happened to her, I run over.

“Hey Mallory, what’s wrong?” I question.

“My car won’t start. I must’ve left my lights on,” she replies sniffling. She still has on that cheerleading skirt that distracts all my players. Admittedly, it's distracting me tonight too, but who could blame me? The way that full-moon light is reflecting off of her long and perfectly toned legs; she's stunning and completely beautiful. So why do I feel like throwing her on my bed like a whore?

“Well, I can give you a jump. Here, take this,” I say as I shrug out of my jacket and give it to her.

“Thanks, Mr. Stone.”

I run the few rows over to where I’m parked and fire up my Jeep. I pull in front of her car and grab my cables. Popping both hoods, I connect the jumper cables and after a couple of minutes tell her to start her car. It starts right away and I see her smile with that adorable gap in her teeth.

“Leave it running a few minutes,” I tell her, turning away.

“Ok, I will. Here you go,” she says as she removes my jacket.

“Why would you stand out in the cold? Why not wait inside your car?”

“Well, I was talking with some people and lost track of time. When they left, I came to my car and tried to start it. It wouldn’t start and the windows were frosted over so I got out and, seeing only one other car left in the parking lot, I didn’t want to miss whoever it belonged to because I couldn't see through my windows.”

What the fuck? This girl is incredibly naive. Here’s this young girl in a desolate parking lot pinning her hopes on the one car that’s left?

“You should’ve called someone. It’s dangerous to pin your hopes on one car, not knowing who the car belongs to or what their intentions may be.”

“I don’t have a phone,” she whispers between shivers.

“Make sure you don’t forget it the next time,” I scold her in a protective manner, questioning myself for caring so much.

“I didn’t forget my phone. I don’t have a phone,” she says slowly, like she’s talking to an idiot.

“You don’t have a phone? Why?” I ask stunned. Everyone has a phone.

“Because some people can’t afford it,” she explains and it confuses me. She has a nice car for an eighteen year old but she can’t afford a phone? Curious again, I have to ask.

“But you can afford this car?”

“Thanks for the jump and the jacket, Mr. Stone,” she says while climbing into her car and slamming the door. All right then!

By the time I rush back to my Jeep, my balls have shriveled to the size of peanuts. I turn the heat to high and put my jacket back on. Once heat begins to invade the Jeep, I smell something amazing. It smells like vanilla coffee and... cinnamon? Whatever it is, it smells delicious. Then I realize this smell is Mallory Carter.

Driving to school on Monday, I’m embarrassed that Mr. Stone had to rescue me, and I worry about facing him. I didn’t yell at him. I could’ve acted more gracious since he had helped me, but I was offended when he insinuated everyone has a cell phone. Maybe offended isn’t the right word. I was embarrassed. I’ve been able to keep up the charade with my classmates. If a guy asks for my phone number, I simply say no, I’m not interested. If a girl is going to ask for it, I beat her to it and ask for hers. Thankfully, that’s only happened once when I was partnered with Olivia in bio chem. She’s a sweet nerdy girl who gets picked on way too much. I’ve tried being her friend but I can only offer her so much. I can’t invite her for a sleepover and I can’t afford to take her to dinner. So, I just try to be there as much as I can during school hours. We have a few classes together and I make sure I’m sitting next to her in every class we share. I don’t understand why people are so mean. She’s a super-cool chick in my book. A fan of anything 80’s, she wants to become an astronaut. Well this week anyway, that girl is always changing her mind. But it’s cool. No one expects us to have our lives figured out yet.

My life wouldn’t be planned out, but unfortunately, I don’t have the means to change my mind often. I get one shot at making a life for myself. Scholarships don’t cover people going to college and changing their minds often so I need to make a decision soon. All my scholarship applications have been sent and so have my college application letters. Fingers crossed I’ve done well enough to compete with the others applying.

When I get to class, I see Olivia is already there and I hurry over. She looks upset and immediately I’m pissed off, knowing someone has said or done something to hurt her. If I were a violent person, I’d kick their ass.

“What’s wrong?”

“Super-glue this time,” she says, pointing to her curly brown hair.

“Who did it?” I demand, scanning the room for the culprit.

“Lewis and his sidekicks,” she cries.

I tap my foot and wait for the rest of the class to file in. I see him and rage takes over. I’m not going to kick him in the nuts like I want, but I plan to humiliate him in front of this class. I storm over to him and shove him out the door.

“You think it’s fucking cool to put glue in someone's hair?” I yell.

“Not cool, just funny,” he says laughing.

“Maybe for small-minded people like you, but to Olivia or me, it’s not funny.”

“We were just playing around,” he says laughing and not showing a bit of remorse. Anger consumes me. So much for not being violent, I think to myself as I launch myself at him. I start by smacking his chest. His reaction is to laugh at me, which only fuels my anger.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” I scream at him.

“I gotta dick for you,” he says grabbing his crotch.

I start swinging harder, not actually hitting him. He is able to block my moves, but I keep swinging just hoping one of these times I’ll make contact. Before I know it, I’m being pulled off of him. But that doesn’t stop my legs from kicking and my arms from throwing punches. Whoever is restraining me had to pick me up.

“Settle down,” Mr. Stone says.

Of course, it has to be him. I can't settle down. I still see Lewis laughing and now his sidekicks are laughing. I’m worried I’ve made things worse for Olivia.

“I said settle down,” he demands as he wraps his sturdy arms more firmly around me, trapping my arms from swinging.

“You’re an asshole! YOU PRICK!” I continue to yell because my mouth is the only thing not being restrained.

“Get to class,” Mr. Stone yells at the boys and this sends me into another fit of rage.

“Yeah, get to class,” I mock Mr. Stone's tone. Of course, those assholes aren’t in trouble. After they go into the classroom, he sets me down.

“You calm now?” he asks, but I don’t say anything. The adrenaline is starting to recede and I feel the tears start to brim my eyes.

“You mind telling me what happened?” he questions.

I continue to say nothing.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what. You tell me what happened or you’re going to see Mr. Stephens.” Mr. Stephens is our tough as nails principal. I definitely do not want to see him. Knowing this could go on my record, I decide to start talking.

“He put glue in her hair,” I spit out. It’s all I can manage because I’m holding back tears.

“Do you think he deserved to be pummeled?” he asks and again my anger gets the best of me.

“I’ll go see Mr. Stephens, obviously you’ve chosen your side,” I reply and quickly turn around and storm away. He stops me by grabbing my arm. “Let go of me Mr. Stone.” I demand jerking my arm back and he does.

"Miss Carter, I've not dismissed you," he says in an authoritative voice and I die laughing. "Something funny?" He questions looking pissed. His dark, captivating eyes stare into mine and I can tell the aggressive side of Mr. Stone is trying to hold it together. Why his dominant behavior is such a turn on, I have no idea.

"No sir," I say as I straighten up and try to get the smile off my face. I know I'm flirting with trouble but he got all bossy with me and I realize how much I miss being bossed around by my father. Not that I see Mr. Stone as a father figure. Far from it. But every time Amy or I were in trouble, he would get all bossy until one of us started crying and then he'd cave. He always told us he couldn’t stand to see his girls cry. How he lived to make his girls happy and to make us feel safe. He was an amazing father. My heart starts to pound as the memory of the accident plays out in my mind. I need to choke these tears down.

"I'd like to see Mr. Stephens please," I say without making eye contact.

"Not until you tell me why you think it's ok to throw punches like you were."

"Because he's a prick and a bully who you let get away with everything."

"Watch your language, Miss Carter."

"Oh, because I don't have a dick I can't swear. Tell me Mr. Stone, do you allow Lewis to swear in front of you?"

"On the football field, not in school."

Like a child, I roll my eyes knowing I’m losing this battle. "Whatever. Just give me my punishment."

What’s going on here? No one has ever disrespected me like this. I asked a simple question and I'm pissed that she thinks she has me all figured out. I don't tolerate bullying, especially from my players. I also don't take sides right away and I hear each student out. Mallory isn't even trying to defend herself.

"All right, I need a full page report from you explaining what happened, how you could've handled it better and what you'll do the next time something like this occurs.”

"Yes, sir," she says and walks back into the classroom and I call Lewis out to get his side.

"What's your side?" I ask.

"It was a joke. We didn't hurt her."

"You didn't hurt her? You put glue in someone's hair. Yes, it may wash out or can be cut out but you humiliated a classmate. Grab your bags and go see the principal. If I hear anything like this again you won't be playing next year," I say and Lewis huffs but reluctantly grabs his bags and leaves the classroom. Lewis is smart; he’s in all AP classes. Hell, he’s a sophomore doing a senior workload, which is why it’s so surprising to me that he’s the ringleader.

Once I walk back inside I see Mallory kneeling in front of Olivia and offering comfort while the rest of the girls are either glaring daggers or snickering at them. Venom in their veins, I’m reassured.

••••••••••••••••

The next day I have a letter on my desk from Mallory. Once I've assigned the chapters to be read today, I open the letter. What the hell? I take one glance at it and realize she hasn’t done what I’ve asked of her.

Mr. Stone,

I know I’m not doing what was requested of me, but I couldn’t think of anything I would do differently. I will always defend my friends or people who’ve been wronged. I’m sorry this letter may disappoint you. It isn’t my intention but it’s all I’ve got.

Mallory Carter

I sit here dumbfounded at her complete disregard to her punishment. I couldn't help but wish that the old school system of spanking as punishment hadn't been ruled out. That way I could bend her over my knee and let that tiny little cheerleading skirt rise up as I turned her bare ass red to teach her a lesson. What the fuck, Lane?

I decide it's best to leave it alone; Mallory pushes buttons in me that I didn't know I had.