Prey (8 page)

Honey

I go up for a shot just as the halftime buzzer goes off, and the girl guarding me elbows me so hard in the side of the head, I see stars. The referee calls foul and while our opponents' coach argues the call, I try to shake off the pain. Mathers yells, “You all right, Fowler? Can you take the shots?”

I'm our best scorer from the foul line, so I tell him I can do it. We're down by two, so if I make the shots, we'll go into the locker room tied. I miss one, then get one, and we all head for the showers. On my way off the court, I look up at the half-filled bleachers to where my friends are sitting. Jess and Joel wave; so do Taylor and her new boyfriend, Wade. I stop short because Ryan is sitting up there too. And he's not with a girl.

I'm shocked because our season is half over and this is the first game he's made. He used to make all of them. He gives me a thumbs-up and I nod. All right! I have no idea why he's gracing us with his presence, but my heart beats faster because of it. Back on the court, I play my best. We win by five points, and I'm high scorer. Who says love can't inspire performance?

I rush through my shower and hurry out to where my friends are waiting. My pulse is racing, and I tell myself that Ryan won't be there. But he is.

“Great game!” Jess says. She and Taylor hug me. Joel and Wade add their praise too.

Ryan says, “Way to go.”

“You noticed.”

“Couldn't help noticing. You took it to them.”

I give him a long look, wanting to forgive him for abandoning me, but not quite able to.

“We're heading out for food,” Joel says. “Want to come, • Goddess of the Rim?”

Normally I'd say no, because who wants to hang around two happy face-sucking couples? Not me. But Ryan jumps in with “I'm in. Come on, Honey?”

“I'm in,” I tell him.

“I have my dad's pimp-mobile. His old Caddy,” Wade clarifies. “So there's plenty of room.”

We head out the door of the gym and Ryan falls into step beside me. I ask, “Where have you been keeping yourself ? I've missed seeing you at our games.”

“Around. Busy with nothing in particular. No good excuse for missing your games. I'm sorry.”

His apology sounds sincere, so I shrug. “Tonight was our best game this season, so at least you saw a good one.”

“You were hitting baskets. Pretty good for a freshman.”

His grin infects me and I feel myself softening. “Coach doesn't have a choice. He has to use me. Lost too many seniors last June.”

“Don't sell yourself short. You played good.”

My heart swells because praise from Ryan counts ten times more to me than praise from any other person on Planet Earth.

He asks, “How's Cory doing?”

“Mom and Dad are sending him to a special school now. He's on campus five days a week and home on weekends.”

“But he's just a kid. Only nine.”

“He's ten, Ryan,” I say softly. “Last November. You missed his party.”

“I did?”

“I invited you. You didn't come.”

Ryan goes quiet and when he finally speaks, he says, “Sorry. I'm saying that a lot tonight, aren't I? But I really am sorry.”

“Cory asked for you. About a million times.” A little fib, but I see that it hits home.

“What did you tell him?”

“I distracted him, same as I always do when his mind gets into a rut. Until he got over missing you.”

Ryan says, “Maybe I can come over on a weekend. When he's home.”

“Maybe.”

I think he's just saying that, and he won't really show up. I feel sad. The distance between us feels like an ocean. By now we're at Wade's car, so Jess, Joel, Ryan and I cram into the backseat. Wade turns on the radio and the others talk above the noise. But Ryan and I sit silent, our bodies shoved together, no warmth in the contact between us. No warmth at all.

Ryan

I'm still pissed when I tell Lori about my conversation with Dad. “Gay! He thinks I'm gay because I don't talk about girls or date anyone.”

We're half dressed, wrapped in a blanket on her sofa. “Want me to write you a note telling him you aren't?” she asks.

I pull away, see that she's joking and settle back again. “He wouldn't believe it. He thinks I'm just a stupid kid.”

“You're no kid,” she says, kissing my neck and sending a shiver up my back. In some ways, I can't get enough of her. In other ways, I miss my old life, hanging with my friends, going to basketball games, nothing more on my mind than dating some hot chick like Patti Warner in my lit class.

“My friends are riding me too,” I say.

“How so?”

“They keep wanting me to be more like the Ryan they used to know.”

I want to tell her that I feel as if I've been cut in half and belong to two universes—half to the high school universe, half to hers. She and I used to talk more. I could pour out all my feelings to her and she'd soothe me, make me feel as if my thoughts and ideas mattered. Not so much these days.

She pats my bare leg. “Forget them. You don't need them. We have each other. Aren't I enough for you?”

I wish I had the guts to tell her I'm afraid of being totally cut off from all the other things that mattered in my life until she came along. I'm afraid to even mention going to the girls' basketball game on Friday night, then out for burgers and a movie. I do tell her, “You don't play basketball. I miss going to the games.”

“We can go to the games.”

“We can't sit together.”

“Sure we can. We just can't hold hands.” She playfully tugs my ear and blows into it.

I pull aside. “I'm serious. People are starting to wonder about me and why I never show up for school events. They keep riding me about keeping secrets from them.”

“They're self-centered, Ryan. They want you to be at their beck and call. Don't give in to them.”

I could remind her that the two of us sure keep secrets from each other. She hates her family, can hardly speak about her dad without going into a blue funk. Makes me realize that mine might not be so bad. I don't know what her dad did to her—she won't say—but somehow her mother is involved and Lori hates her, too.

Lori can be warm and sexy. She can also be cold and possessive. I don't get her, and when she goes in that dark direction, I want to go back to my other world, where things aren't as confusing and complicated.

“I'm just saying that I could spend a little more time with my friends. Make them back off with all their questions. ‘Why don't you hang with us? Why aren't you around more? Why don't you come to games, or over to my house, or have us over for movies and video games?’ ” I repeat the list of questions I hear most often.

“And what do you want?”

Her eyes have turned all wary and I know I'm on thin ice, but I suck it up and say, “Maybe we should back off a little. Just until I can get back into my groove with my friends so they'll stop hounding me.”

She straightens and stares hard at me. “Why are they so important to you? Can they give you what I can?”

“No, of course not.” This isn't going as well as I'd hoped. “My dad's got neighbors spying on me, and what if someone sees us together?” I know one of her worst fears is that we'll get caught.

“We're careful.”

“Sure, but it only takes slipping up one time.”

“But we're not going to slip up. We have each other. Damn your friends.” She stands abruptly, taking the blanket, leaving me naked.

“Hey!” I grab at the blanket. “I'm cold.”

“Me too, Ryan,” she says. “You make my insides cold when you talk about dumping me.”

“I never said that.”

“It's what you mean. You think I can't read between the lines? You want to prove to your dad you're not gay. You want to prove to your friends that you're the same guy you used to be. And how do you do that? Why, by bringing home pretty little girls for them to inspect and then declare you ‘normal.’ You'd rather be with those empty-headed little teen twits than with me.”

“I never—”

“We belong together. You and me—together. Lori and Ryan. Forever. I've given you everything, every inch of my body. All of my heart. And now you want to throw me away?” She starts to cry and I sit stupefied, my brain spinning, unable to follow her logic.

“I love you,” she says. “I thought you loved me.”

It makes me feel squirmy whenever she uses the “l” word, and she's been saying it more and more lately.

“You do love me, don't you, Ryan? Tell me you love me.”

Her face looks blotchy and I don't want her to freak out. I leap up and grab her and hold her against me so she's locked in my arms and can't move. Just the way I've seen Honey do to Cory when he gets out of control. “Hey, calm down. You're always my number one. Of course I love you. How can you think I don't?”

The blanket feels warm and soft on my skin, but I'm still cold. I feel her body relax and soon she stops crying.

“I don't know what I'd do without you,” she says. Her voice is husky and raw-sounding. “I just love you so much.”

“Me too,” I say, staring over her head and out the window at the tops of trees and open blue sky.

“Come to bed with me,” she says.

And because I don't know what else to do, I go.

Lori

I
'm awake again at three in the morning. I reach across the bed for Ryan, but he's not there. He hasn't spent a night with me for a couple of weeks, and I miss him. His father isn't traveling as much, so he's been pinned in place at his house. No more sneaking out after midnight, then back in before five the way he used to. I miss parking and waiting at the end of his street, my heart pounding with anticipation until I'd see him coming down the sidewalk, dressed all in black. He'd get into my car and after a quick hug we'd hurry back to my place for a few hours together.

Now I'm alone.

I know that a night is only several hours long, but it always seems longer when I'm alone in the dark. I send Ryan an e-mail telling him how much I miss him and what I'd be doing to him if he were here. Cyberspace is a poor substitute for flesh and blood. Only a few more hours before I see him in class. This comforts me. Be patient.

He's restless. I see that. He's chafing against the rules we must obey. I can't change it. Not yet, anyhow, but someday…

I don't want us to get caught. It will ruin everything and take him away from me. The powers that be will throw me to the wolves. They'll come after me as if I were raw meat. And they'll surround Ryan like a pack of animals protecting their own from a bird of prey. I know what they'll think of me, what they'll call me, do to me. I don't care. Ryan's worth it. He still intrigues me, makes me want him even after all these months. I can't lose him. I can't.

Ryan

I've been lying to Lori. I've been telling her that Dad's traveling less. It's not true, but lately I've gotten a wake-up call about my grades. Failed two tests and am pulling Cs and Ds in every class except Lori's. She's giving me an A, but not because we're lovers— I'm actually working in her class. That idea is still hard for me to get my head around sometimes. Me and Ms. Settles, doing each other every chance we get.

Lori helps me with papers and assignments, but with tests I'm on my own. Dad will put me under house arrest if my grades don't come up. If I tell Lori I need to buckle down, she'll find a way to talk me out of it. She has in the past.

And then there's the problem of my friends. Lori just doesn't get it. I need to hang with them more. First because I want to, and second because I need to. They don't analyze every word I say. Or have a breakdown if I want to do something they don't want to do. Only thing is, when we go out and do stuff together, I feel as if I'm cheating on Lori. Not that I'm doing the horizontal boogie with anyone except her, but she can make me feel pretty guilty when she turns on the tears.

The guys tell me it's great to have me in the mix again. Honey acts as if I'm some long-lost traveler home from a faraway galaxy. One afternoon when I'm at her house, she tells me, “It's like you were lobotomized and now you're back. I've missed you.”

“Sure,” I say. “I was taken over by aliens, grown in a pod and tossed back into McAllister armed with only my wits. Bet you can hardly see the place where I was attached to my pea pod.” I lift my shirt and show my belly button. Her face turns red, and I realize she's not like Lori, always wanting me naked. I pull down my shirt. “Sorry.”

“What? You think I don't know you have a navel? We've been to the pool together, mister.”

“Hey, chill. I was making a joke.”

“I'm not mad. And I'm not a prude.” She's all huffy-sounding.

I laugh. “Could have fooled me.” I duck down, stare up at her face. “Whoa. Is that a flicker of a smile?”

She tries hard to hide it.

“Maybe this will help loosen it up.” I spring on her, toss her onto the rec-room sofa and start tickling her.

In seconds, she's shrieking. “Stop it!” She's laughing and hiccupping, twisting and turning, but I keep up my tickle attack.

I shout, “My pod masters have given me the strength of ten bags of spinach. Resistance is futile!”

When she goes limp, I'm straddling her body and I've pinned her arms above her head. Her hair's a mess and she's breathing hard. Her face is as pink as if she's just played a game on the courts.

“You will pay!” she threatens, catching her breath and still laughing. “I will hurt you.”

Watching her struggle, I feel a surge of power, and something comes over me I can't explain. Without thinking, I dip my head and kiss her on the mouth. I pull back and her eyes are wide and she's staring up at me like a startled bird. I roll off her as fast as I can and stand up. “Sorry.”

“No. No, don't be sorry,” she says.

But I hardly hear her because I'm already halfway up the stairs and heading for her front door.

Honey

Ryan kissed me. Me, Honey Fowler. On my mouth. Without any begging or pleading on my part, Ryan kissed me. I may never come down from the high I'm on. I won't tell anyone, not even Jess, because I want to hold on to the kiss and the feelings in my heart forever. If I share the story, my friends will dissect it, pick it apart and make it into something else.

“He likes you,” Jess will insist.

“Finally he's come around,” Taylor will say. “About time, too. How long have you crushed on him? A hundred years?”

I'll keep the magic to myself. Right here inside my heart, where no one can go except me. The kiss was spontaneous. He might not have planned it, but I have longed for it and now it's mine. He can't take it back.

I wonder if he really meant it. If he did, why did he apologize for doing it? A guy doesn't tell a girl he's sorry for stealing a kiss. Not if he really means it. I don't want him to be sorry. I want him to like me— love me—as much as I love him.

“What are you so happy about?” Jess stops me in the hall. She's tacking up posters for the upcoming freshman-sophomore spring dance.

“Do I look happy?”

“Air-walking happy.”

“I'll try to look more serious.”

She eyes me skeptically. “Something's different.”

“I aced an algebra test.”

“You do that all the time. No, this is something else.”

“You're so nosey. Can't a girl just be happy without the third degree?”

“No.”

I burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?” Joel has come up, slipped his arm around Jess.

“You're way too young to understand,” I tell him, and turn and walk away.

When I see Ryan alone in the library later in the week, I freeze. What should I say? He looks up, beckons me over. I slide into the chair across from him at the table. “Are you a role model for Homeworkers Anonymous? You're always in the library.”

He shrugs. “Got to keep up the grades. Better to do it here. Fewer distractions.”

He's never had trouble before with his grades, but my mind isn't on schoolwork. “I haven't heard much from you lately.” I choose my words. I want to ask, “Why haven't you called, or e-mailed, since you kissed me?”

“Full slate.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding. “Too full to even shoot off an e-mail?”

“I haven't done a lot of things I used to do lately. Nothing personal.”

I feel as if he's blowing me off. “I miss talking to you.”

He lays down his pen, leans back in the chair. “Why are my friends giving me heat? You, Joel— I have a list. You all act like I don't care anymore just because I have to keep on the books. I'm working hard. I don't have time to explain every time I can't get together.”

I feel stung, as if I'm messing where I'm not wanted. The kiss was a fluke. “I'll leave you to your books.” I go to stand, but Ryan takes my wrist.

“Wait.”

I sit.

“I'm not avoiding you. You're my best friend.” His voice is softer.

I want to be more than your friend. “Okay. So now what?”

He tips his head and grins. “So why don't we go to the spring dance together?”