01. Chasing Nikki (2 page)

“It’s done. 
I’d been talking to them about it already.  I made the plans final as soon as I
found out you were arrested last night.  Grandma and Grandpa are waiting for
us.”

“I can’t do
this, Mom.  Don’t take us there.  It’ll be even worse than it is here.  There’s
no possible way for me to fit in.  It’s like Hicksville there!  Even Dad hated
it.  Grandpa is totally insane and ....” my voice trailed off when I saw the
hard look in her eyes.

Neither of
us spoke again for the rest of the ride home, but I was biting the inside of my
mouth in an attempt to keep my comments from spewing out.  I knew it would only
hurt her more, and despite everything I’d done to add to her burdens, that had
never been my intention.  I wasn’t trying to be bad or make things harder on
her.  I was only trying to forget it all.

The memories
resurfaced in my mind for the millionth time, despite my desperate attempts to
ignore them.

“Happy
seventeenth birthday, Chase!” my dad said, smiling as he handed me the keys to
the gorgeous white extended cab Dodge Ram pickup, with darkly tinted windows,
sitting in the driveway. 

“Are you
for real?” I exclaimed as I took them and hurried toward the truck.  “I can’t
believe you got it!”

My dad
laughed.  “Well, it was either that, or listen to you go on about it every time
we drove past the dealership together.  I even got it in your favorite color. 
I still think the cherry red one was better though.”

“No way. 
White is always the best,” I replied, and he chuckled again.

“White
isn’t even a color.  It’s … white, like the absence of color.”

“I don’t
care.  It’s my favorite.”  I grinned as I opened the driver’s side door and
hopped in, running my hands in awe over the steering wheel before leaning over
to check out the stereo system.

“So, do
you like it then?” Dad’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“I love
it!” I said, sliding from the vehicle. 

He
clapped me into a big bear hug, patting me hard. “You deserve it.  You’re a
great kid!”

“Thanks,
Dad.”

“Don’t
forget I love you,” he added quickly.  “Now get to school, and hurry straight
home after football practice tonight.  Mom’s going to need some help with your
party.”

“Yes,
sir.” I smiled, bending to pick up my backpack I had dropped on the concrete.

“Sorry I
won’t be there.  I’ll try to call you tonight from Denver.”

“Okay,
sounds good.  Hope your meeting goes well.”  I climbed inside the truck and
started it.

He stood
in the driveway, waving at me as I drove away and headed to school.

That
night I came home from practice to find my mom sobbing on the couch, nothing
ready for my party.

“What’s
the matter?” I asked, dropping my gear and hurrying to her side.

“Your
dad’s secretary called.  His plane crashed on the way to Denver.”

“What?”
My heart sank.  “Is he okay?”

“No one
on board survived.”

Her words
seared into me, sinking like a branding iron, burning through every layer, and
for a moment I forgot to breathe.

I took a
deep gasp now, bringing myself back to reality as I realized I was holding my
breath once again.  My hands were clenched into fists, and I flexed them,
forcing myself to relax as I turned to stare out the window.

That was the
day my life had turned for the worse.  Everything, it seemed, started falling
apart in that moment.  My dad’s estate was settled and most of the money went
to pay off the debts of our family’s high-priced lifestyle.  We lost our ritzy
Canyon Heights home and moved from Scottsdale to a cheaper neighborhood in
Mesa, Arizona.

I had to
change schools, which caused me to lose my spot as quarterback on the football
team, and the friends I had seemed to disappear into the woodwork.

No one cared
I was an all-star athlete at my last school.  I went from being popular, to
just the new face in a sea of four thousand others. 

A few kids
from the partying crowd befriended me early on, and I quickly joined in with
them, eager to escape the things banging around in my head.  They invited me to
hang out that weekend, and when they passed the blunt to me, it suddenly seemed
to be just the thing I needed.  A little something I could get lost in to help
take the edge off. 

All it took
was one time, and I was hooked.  I’d never really considered myself the drug
and alcohol type, but that soon changed.  I lived for the next party, knowing
I’d be able to sink into that blissful numbness waiting for me there.

 I tried to
hide my new lifestyle from my mom in the beginning, and was fairly successful. 
Over time though, I started growing more careless as I sunk deeper into things,
and she started growing suspicious.  I knew she was catching on when she
started grilling me about being late and who I was with.

I became the
master of evasion with her, unwilling to give up the new world I’d created for
myself.  She started grounding me for breaking the rules, or she would take
away my phone and truck for the weekend.  I quickly solved that problem by
keeping a little stash hidden in my room, breaking it out when she would leave
for work, or I’d lock my door, turn up the music and climb out the window onto
the roof to smoke.

My dealer
was a hot girl from school, and I started dating her.  Sometimes she would come
over to party with me all day at the house.  My mom never knew that some of the
worst things I’d ever done happened right in my own bedroom while she was punishing
me. Thankfully, she’d never caught on.

I had a nice
system going, and I thought things couldn’t get any worse—until now.  Now my
mom was dragging me to live on a ranch in the middle of Podunk-freaking-nowhere
with my psychotic grandpa who believed ranching was the be-all, end-all, to
learning life lessons. 

Even before
my dad died, I hated going there to visit because all I ever did was work.  I’d
spent entire vacations, feeding cows, straining milk, planting giant fields of
corn, and mucking out stalls until I was sure the manure smell would never come
off me.

I quickly
learned to invent reasons not to go there by joining all the sports teams at
school.  Games and practices didn’t allow me to leave town much.  During the
summer I worked as a lifeguard for one of the local pools, and trips to
grandpa’s house became fewer and farther between.  Even my dad volunteered to
stay home with me, sending Mom away to see her parents by herself. 

The car
pulled into the driveway, and I hurriedly exited the vehicle.  I rushed into
the house ahead of my mom and locked myself in my room.  I sank down on the
bed, stretching out to bury my face into the pillow.

Her
declaration had shocked me.  Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have been
surprised.  Yes, I could admit I was on a massive downward spiral, failing
classes, not playing sports—not caring about anything in general.  I submersed
myself in partying and trying to cover the hurt inside.  Mom threatened me on
several occasions that I better straighten up my act, or I wouldn’t like the
consequences.  I thought it was all talk though, and never did I think she
would resort to moving again.

Silver
Creek, Arizona. I couldn’t believe it.  I would never survive there.  There
wasn’t even anything to do—unless kids really were into cow tipping these days.
And the only weed a teenager could score were probably the ones growing on the
sides of the road.

I slammed my
fist into the headboard and felt my knuckles split open.  I looked to see the
blood running down my fingers before I flopped back to my pillow. 

Let it
bleed,
I thought. 
I don’t even care.

My phone
buzzed in my pocket.  I dug it out, seeing the battery was nearly dead after
not being charged during the night.

“You home?”
The screen showed a text from Conner.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.  Dad
yelled for an hour.  Says I’m going to jail.”

I felt sick
to my stomach.  “Sorry, bro.” I typed back.

“Guess we
finally got caught.” 

“Guess so. 
Mom’s making me move to Silver Creek—with my grandpa.”

“Man! I
think I’d prefer jail,” Connor replied.

The phone
buzzed once loudly as it died.  I tossed it onto the nightstand and buried my
face back into the pillow. 

Everything
was so messed up.

“The
sentence is a five hundred dollar fine, and one hundred hours of community
service, as well as a weekend rehab session on the destructive nature of
alcohol and drug use.”  The judge’s gavel struck down, and I tried to keep my
expression neutral as I left the courtroom.

“You got off
easy if you ask me,” Mom said once we stepped outside.

“Easy?
You’re kidding, right?” I complained.  “What do I need rehab for? I’m not
addicted to anything.”

“You might
not be, but you’ve been abusing substances, and addiction usually follows
that.  I think it’s a good call on the judge’s part.”

I kept my
mouth shut.  Arguing wasn’t going to do anything but get me into more trouble.

“You’re
lucky.  They could’ve suspended you and kicked you out of sports, not that it
matters since you haven’t played anything since football season anyway.”

“So now
what?” I asked, wanting to get off the subject.

“Now you’re
going to pay the fine out of your checking account.  Then we’ll make an
appointment with the court liaison so we can get your rehab and community
service transferred to Silver Creek.”

I groaned. 
“Please, Mom.  Isn’t there anyway I can talk you out of this?  I promise I’ll
be better.  Just stay here.”

“No, my mind
is made up.  I think the change in environment will be good for both of us. 
It’ll be nice to feel like part of a family again.”

Not
Grandpa’s family,
I thought.  The guy was a hard nose about everything.  He
expected things to be done a certain way, at a certain time, and you couldn’t
argue with him. 

I knew part
of my grandpa’s attitude came from being a corpsman in the Marines in his
younger years.  He’d learned to love rigid order, and he brought that over into
his everyday life when he left the service.

“It’ll be
like living in the middle of a military barracks,” I grumbled, pausing at the
door to the office my mom was ushering me into.

“Maybe that
won’t be as bad as you think,” she replied, looking up at me.  “We can both use
a little structure in our lives right now.”

“Speak for
yourself,” I replied under my breath, but she heard every word.

“Do you
remember where we’re at?” She arched an eyebrow.  “I don’t need any more
attitude from you.”

“Let’s just
get this over with,” I said with a sigh and walked quickly through the door,
but she grabbed my arm, turning me back to face her.

“Trust me,
Chase.  I only want what’s best for you.” Her direct look was full of emotion,
and it caused me to feel a moment of regret again.  I couldn’t hurt her any
more than I already had.  She didn’t deserve it.

“I’m trying
to, Mom.  I really am.”

Chapter Two

I drove my
truck up the dirt lane—following the small U-Haul my mom was driving, towing
her car behind it.  We had to go slowly since the road was full of dips and
bumps, caused by heavy snow and rain during the winter.  I was thankful it was
April now, and while it was still cool, we’d missed the worst of the weather. 
I was definitely going to miss the warm desert.  I sighed again, for what
must’ve been the thousandth time, and I cranked my music up even louder.

At least I’d
managed to convince her to let me keep my pickup.  I reminded her that the
ranch was three miles off the main highway and three more miles to the school. 
I told her, unless Grandpa was planning on loaning me his ancient tractor, she
was going to have to take me to school every day, because I refused to walk
three miles to catch the bus.

She finally
relented.

We passed
out of the heavy cedar growth into the flat area that marked the ranch.  The
fields were all empty dirt patches right now, just waiting to be replanted. 

Silver
Creek—the actual creek the town was named after—ran through the far edge of the
property. Big cottonwood trees lined its banks, showing their new spring leaves
that were rippling in the breeze. Directly ahead was the sprawling two story
white ranch house, with its immaculately trimmed lawns and wide porches. The
huge red barn, with lots of stalls and corrals, sat off to the right.

I guess
people would call the view pretty, if they were into rural settings.  I,
personally, thought it would have been more appropriate if there were a giant
sign in the yard with the word ‘prison’ scrawled across it in giant letters.

Grandma
Johnson ran from the house with a big smile on her face as we pulled up.  She
wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to greet us.

Mom jumped
out to hug her tightly, and I reluctantly went to do the same.  Grandma was
probably the one bright spot to this whole new change, but I wasn’t in the mood
for happy greetings.

“Chase!” She
turned to me with a delighted look and held her arms open. 

I walked
into them and hugged her loosely, but she squeezed me tightly.

“Welcome
home,” she said.  “I’m so thrilled you’ve come to live with us.  We’ve hardly
seen you it seems, and I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten!  How tall are you
now?”

“Six foot
two,” I replied, stepping away.

“My, my, and
all lean muscle from the looks of it.  I bet the girls go nuts over you with
that strong, chiseled jaw, dark hair and eyes. You’ve grown like a weed!  Ah,
so handsome.” She clasped her hand over her heart.