Charming the Firefighter (10 page)

“I want him off that field.”

He waited for her to throw in a good foot stomp. It didn’t happen. “Listen, if there’s a problem—”

“Oh, you bet there’s a problem,” she said harshly. “The problem is he doesn’t have my permission to play football, so get him off that field. Now.”

Leo could only stare at her. What did she mean Drew didn’t have permission?

Before he could ask, she sidestepped him and stomped away.

He caught up with her before she reached the bottom of the hill, grabbed her arm. “Why don’t we—”

“I will not calm down,” she said, yanking away from him, her chin in the air. “This is none of your business.”

Irritation pricked. He fought it, didn’t want to get into a shouting match in front of the kids. “I was going to suggest we go somewhere quiet and private to discuss this,” he said, keeping his tone mild. “Somewhere without the chance of gaining a rapt audience.”

She followed his gaze to the field, but seeing Drew out there must have beaten out her common sense because she didn’t seem to care whether they had an audience or not. She took two more steps. “Andrew,” she called. Loudly. “Come here.”

All noise stopped, the boys and assistant coaches and managers all looking their way. Drew’s face flamed red and he hurried off the field.

“Mom,” he said, his voice low, “what are you doing here?”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “What am
I
doing here? What are
you
doing here?”

“Shit,” Drew mumbled, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. “I forgot about the doctor’s appointment.”

“That’s not the only thing you forgot,” Penelope said as the kids edged closer to be in better hearing range. “You seemed to have forgotten to mention to me that you signed up for football.”

Leo stepped between then. “Why don’t we take this conversation inside?”

She whirled on him, looking ready to slap the common sense right out of his head. “There’s no need as we have nothing to discuss. My son does not have permission to play football, he never had permission to play football, and I’m going to make sure the school board, the superintendent and the principal all know that you allowed a minor to be on your team without his parents’ consent.”

Leo was getting tired of her attitude, especially when she was making Drew so uncomfortable. “Don’t you think you’re going overboard?”

“Overboard?”
she repeated, her voice shrill. “My son has a bruise on his back the size of a fist because of this stupid, barbaric sport. He could have been seriously injured, paralyzed or killed, and it would have been all your fault for letting him play.”

“I
let
him play,” Leo ground out the words, “because he had signed paperwork.”

“You need to check your facts because I would never let my son participate in such a dangerous sport. Especially not one that requires a helmet! You had no right to let him on the team without double-checking with me.” She turned to Drew. “And you. How could you do something so dangerous? So risky? And you lied—”

“I didn’t—”

“Omitting the truth is the same as lying.”

Drew’s head hung, his hair falling forward. Poor kid. Leo turned to the rest of the team. “Back to work. Now,” he added when they didn’t move quickly enough. A couple of stragglers, including Drew’s buddy Luke, hung back. “Sapko, you and Williams and Runyan seem to have so much free time, why don’t you give me five laps.”

“Aw, Coach, come on,” Luke whined. “We’re just sticking together. Isn’t that what you said a good team does?”

“You’re right. A team should stick together.” Leo raised his voice so the entire team could hear him. “Listen up. Thanks to Sapko reminding me the true meaning of teamwork, you all get to run. Give me seven laps—”

“Seven?” Williams, thirty pounds overweight, groaned. “I’m going to die.” He turned to Luke. “Then I’m going to kill you.”

Leo kept his eyes on the boys in front of him. “Make it ten. Unless anyone else wants to add a comment?” If there had been crickets out, they would have been chirping. “Good. Now get moving.”

Leo turned back to Penelope and Drew. “Let’s go inside and—”

“We’re going home,” Penelope said, reaching for Drew’s arm, but he shifted away and her expression darkened.

Before things got worse, Leo stepped in front of her. Lowered his voice. “You’ve humiliated your son in front of his classmates and several of his teachers. No matter what he’s done, there’s no reason to embarrass him this way, not when you could have handled it in a quiet, private manner. Now, before you spew any more threats my way or piss off your son further, let’s go inside and discuss this.”

* * *

T
EARS
PRICKED
P
ENELOPE
’
S
EYES
. She was humiliated and shamed to realize Leo was right. She glanced around. He’d gotten the rest of the football team moving, but there were still plenty of other people watching them. All who had witnessed her outburst.

She glanced at Andrew’s sullen face. She swallowed. She wanted to reach for him. To apologize for yelling, for behaving in such an uncontrollable way, but didn’t want him to think that gave him the upper hand, was afraid it would when he was the one who should be sorry.

Head high, she nodded at Leo. “Fine.”

She followed him inside the school where he led her through the gym to a small office. He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the two vinyl chairs facing a small, cluttered desk. Shades of that day in her office, but reversed. They were now in his domain, a domain of man things with sports memorabilia on the walls, the scent of sweat and dirty sneakers in the air. He was the one in control here, as she’d proven by losing her temper outside.

She didn’t like it. Any of it.

“Take a seat next to your mom,” Leo told Andrew, who slouched against the wall by the door.

“I’m good,” Andrew said.

Leo, in the act of pulling open a drawer, glanced at her son. “Sit down, Drew.”

He did so, shooting Penelope a dirty look as he yanked the chair as far away from her as possible.

Leo opened a file, searched through it, then took out a set of papers and slid them across the desk to Penelope. “Here are the forms I received from Drew.”

“His name is Andrew,” she said, hating feeling as if she was the one in the wrong.

“You want me to call you Andrew or Drew?” Leo asked Andrew as if her opinion on what her son was called didn’t even matter.

“Drew’s fine,” he murmured.

Since when? From the time he’d been a baby, he’d been Andrew. But she wouldn’t quibble about it, not when she had bigger issues to fight over. “This isn’t my signature,” she told Leo, pointing to the illegible name on the line where the guardian was to sign the form.

Leo nodded, though why he thought he needed proof when she’d already told him she hadn’t granted Andrew permission to play was beyond her. “Did you sign your mother’s name on that form?” Leo asked Andrew softly.

She didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he shifted and met Leo’s eyes. “Yeah. But only because I knew she’d say no.”

“Of course I would have said no.” She couldn’t believe her son would even want to play such a dangerous sport. “As of this moment you are off the team.”

He rounded on her, his eyes wide. “That’s not fair.”

“It might not be fair,” Leo said, all calm and rational. “But it’s the truth. You lied about having permission, you lied to your mother and you lied to me. There’s no way I could keep you on the team even if I wanted to.”

Andrew blanched. “You don’t want me on the team?” he asked, sounding small and scared.

Leo rounded the desk, sat on the corner and crossed his arms. “You think I want someone on the team I can’t trust? What about the other players, your teammates and friends? This could come back to bite all of us on the ass. More than that, though, I need players who are honest. Players I can trust to make the right decisions, on and off the field.”

Andrew swallowed and crossed his arms. Blinking his eyes, he ducked his head.

Why didn’t it ever upset him when he let her down? When he disappointed her? What was she doing wrong?

Someone knocked on the door, then it opened, and an elderly man with thick, bushy eyebrows poked his head in. “Everything okay in here?”

“Not really,” Leo said. He stood. “Could you take Drew and have him clean out his locker?”

The older man looked surprised, but just nodded at Andrew. “Come on, son.”

Andrew went, head down, feet dragging.

“Meet me out front as soon as you’re done,” Penelope told him.

The older man clapped Andrew on the shoulder and walked him out. Through the window, she could see the man talking to him, his head close to her son’s.

She rose, clutching her purse to her chest. What did one say after having a meltdown—and what could most certainly be construed as a temper tantrum—in front of fifty teenagers?

“I can talk to the superintendent,” Leo said, obviously one of those annoying people who was never at a loss for words, “see if there’s some way we can work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out. Andrew is coming home with me and he won’t be back.”

“What he did was wrong. And he needs to face the consequences of those actions, but there might be a way for him to stay on the team. With your permission this time, of course.”

“You have plenty of other boys out there willing to sacrifice their health and well-being for the satisfaction of your ego,” she said stiffly. “You don’t need my son.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up but his eyes were cool. “My ego is just fine. I don’t need a bunch of teenagers running around to build it up.”

She believed him. From what she could tell, he had the looks, the charm and the confidence to handle any situation. Plus, he was obviously very comfortable with himself. Still, her pride wouldn’t let her take back her words.

Her pride had always been her downfall.

“I refuse to allow my son to play a sport that’s so dangerous,” she told him.

He held his hands out and she bristled. She wasn’t a wild beast needing to be tamed. “I understand you’re upset he lied—”

“I’m upset because he could have been hurt.” Leo didn’t understand anything. How could he? As far as she knew, he’d never been married, didn’t have any children. “Was already hurt.”

“Football is a rough sport, but it’s getting better—better training, better equipment. If possible, I’d like to keep Drew on the team.”

“His name,” she said slowly and carefully, her words coming out from between her teeth, “is Andrew. And he is not playing, and never will play, football.”

“That’s your call, of course, but I think you should know he’s a valuable member of the team. His teammates, the other coaches, they all like him.
I
like him. He’s athletic and a hard worker. He made a mistake, but it’s obvious he did it because he really loves the game and wants to play.”

“He’s a child. He doesn’t know what he wants. That’s what I’m here for.” To help him. Guide him. Stop him from making a mistake.

Keep him safe.

“You only want him to continue playing,” she said, turning toward the doorway, “so I don’t report your neglect to the school board.”

Leo’s eyes flashed and narrowed, his expression darkened, and she got a very quick, very real glimpse of what he would be like if he was angry. “I want him to keep playing because I think it could be good for him. Because he enjoys it and the team loves having him. He’s made friends and works harder than any other kid out there.” He sent her a dismissive glance, his upper lip curled. “But then, you were right the other day at your office. You don’t know me at all.”

Shaken, feeling unsure when initially she’d been positive of her position, that she was right, she walked away, her legs unsteady. She kept going even though part of her, a big part, wanted to turn around and apologize for assuming the worst of him.

CHAPTER NINE

H
IS
MOM
WAS
such a bitch.

Fuming, Andrew glared out the car window, the houses they passed a blur. He hated her. Couldn’t even stand being in the car with her, breathing the same air. She’d ruined everything.
Everything.

Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

When he’d seen her at the field, he’d about shit his pants knowing she’d found out his secret. But then she had to go and rip into Coach, humiliating Andrew in front of his team.

His ex-team, he thought bitterly, his hands fisting. He was done playing football and now all the guys knew he’d had to lie and trick his way onto the team because his mom treated him like a goddamn baby.

“We need to discuss this,” she said, her voice calm as she pulled to a stop at a red light.

That was her. Always wanting to talk every damned thing to death.

“I know you’re upset,” she continued.

He snorted. No shit he was upset.

“What you did was wrong.”

“I wasn’t robbing stores,” he muttered. “I was playing football.”

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the knuckles going white. Good. He hated when he was upset and she remained so calm and cool as if it didn’t even matter. “You lied. To me. And to your coaches.”

“I had to.”

“There’s never a good reason for lying,” she insisted, like some nun or something.

Even though she’d lied to him plenty. Had told him that everything would be fine between her and his dad, that they would work things out.

“Would you have let me play if I’d asked?”

She glanced at him, horrified. “Of course not.”

“Exactly. That’s why I lied. I knew you wouldn’t let me play. You don’t understand me or how important playing football is to me.”

“It’s just a game.”

“It’s not just a game. It’s something I really want to do.” It was something he was good at. Finally, something he excelled at that wasn’t schoolwork, where the other kids didn’t look down on him or call him a dork because he liked to read and usually got good grades. “I’m tired of you treating me like a baby. I’m not sick anymore and I need to make my own decisions. Stop trying to run my life.”

His mom pulled to a stop in their driveway. Since they’d been so late for his appointment, she’d had to reschedule. Fine by him. The last thing he wanted was to drive into Pittsburgh and be poked and prodded so a doctor could tell his mom he was still healthy. He just wanted to get away. His skin was hot and itchy, his chest tight, like if he took too deep of a breath he’d crack. Like if he opened his mouth to say something, he’d never stop yelling and his brain would explode, just
boom
all over the car.

He jumped out before she’d even fully shut off the ignition and stalked down the driveway.

“Andrew,” she said, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk,” he snarled, not even looking back.

“No, you’re not. You get back here and go to your room. We’ll discuss this later when you’ve had a chance to calm down.”

He kept walking. Refrained, barely, from giving her the middle finger. But he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to let her know how tired he was of her. How done he was with her endless rules and her constant questions. Of her hovering and that stick up her ass, which made it impossible for him to have any fun because she was too uptight to do so herself.

“Andrew,” she called again sharply, her tone high and unsteady. “Andrew!”

He ignored her. Let her come after him. He snorted, shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d like to see that. Prim and prissy Penelope chasing her son down the sidewalk. Not going to happen.

He flipped his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Slowed his pace now that he’d put some distance between them. Anger simmered in his blood, heated his veins until it seemed to burn through his skin. He was pissed all the time, even more so than when he was sick. Then all he’d wanted was to be better. To be healthy. Normal.

Now he didn’t know what the hell he wanted except to get away from his mom.

He kicked at a rock, but missed, his toe skimming the surface of it. He kept going, head down, the wind chilling his bare arms. Yeah, that was what he needed to do. Get away from her. For good.

Hopefully forever.

He pulled out his phone, dialed his dad’s number.

Voice mail.

Shit.

It beeped. “Dad.” He cleared his throat because he sounded like a whiny baby. Tried again. “Dad. It’s me. Call me.”

He wasn’t going to stay here. Not with her. He’d move back to California, move in with his dad. His steps slowed. Sure, his old man worked all the time, but so what? It wasn’t like Andrew needed to be babysat constantly. He’d just have to make sure not to be any trouble. Keep to himself, get himself to school, get a job so he wouldn’t need any spending money and help out around the house without being asked. That sort of stuff. As long as he wasn’t some pain in the ass, his new stepmom probably wouldn’t care.

His throat tightening, he shoved his hands into his pockets again. Except they hadn’t invited him to stay with them over the summer. When he’d brought it up, his dad had claimed he and Lorraine were still getting to know each other or some bullshit like that.

He clenched his fingers around his phone and considered throwing it, but he wasn’t that stupid. He kicked an empty recycling container in front of a one-story brick house but it didn’t help him feel better. So he kicked it again. And again.

“You might be better off finding a more constructive use of your time and a way to deal with your frustrations than abusing a helpless piece of plastic.”

He whirled, breathing hard, and saw Gracie Weaver walking toward him, a huge black dog by her side.

His face flamed, warmth suffused his neck. “Mind your own business,” he snapped, giving her a sneer.

She lifted a shoulder. “You’re beating up a recycling container in the middle of a public street. Seems to me that is my business. But if you’d rather continue acting like a gorilla, be my guest.”

She walked on, but her dog stopped and shoved his nose into Andrew’s crotch. Andrew froze. He’d never been around dogs much. Especially not ones big enough to eat his face off with one bite. He considered shoving the dog’s head away, but didn’t want to get his hand that close to the animal’s mouth and all those sharp teeth.

Gracie sighed, tugged on the leash, but the dog was so huge, it didn’t budge. “Seriously, Sauron? That is so disgusting and rude.”

The dog lifted his shaggy head, glanced at Gracie, then shoved his nose right back into Andrew’s balls. Finally, the dog sat on his haunches and stared up at him, his head tipped to the side as if asking if he could sniff Andrew’s crotch some more.

“Sorry about that,” Gracie said. “He has no manners.”

Andrew couldn’t answer, didn’t want to take his eyes off the dog. But hadn’t he read somewhere you weren’t to make eye contact with them? That they took that as a sign of aggression?

Frowning, Gracie stepped closer. “You okay?”

He nodded.

She looked from him to her dog, then to him again. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

He whipped his head up. “No.”

He sounded like a complete wuss. Maybe that was why she didn’t look convinced. She set her hand on the dog’s head and he noticed her nails were short and unpainted, her fingers slender. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you.”

Yeah, right. That was the same thing the nurses used to say right before poking him with a needle. They’d used that same stupid, soft tone, too, as if he’d believe their lies if they said it nicely enough.

“Really,” Gracie went on, stepping closer to Andrew. “Sauron’s big and dumb but really sweet and harmless.” She cupped the dog’s face in both hands, gave it a vigorous rub. “Aren’t you, baby?”

People and their pets were so freaking weird.

Andrew’s face was hot and probably red. He ducked it, hoped she didn’t notice. Not that he cared what some dweeb like Gracie thought, but he didn’t want it getting around that he was afraid of dogs.

He edged to the side, then froze when the dog shifted as well. “I just...I don’t like dogs all that much.”

She looked at him as if he was abnormal, which he hated. People had looked at him that way for half his life, and he never wanted to feel abnormal again. “So you’re a cat person?”

“Like, am I part cat?” he asked before he could think of it. He held his breath and hoped she didn’t give him a hard time for a lame joke.

She smiled. His stomach did a weird flip. Nerves because of the dog, he assured himself. Not because some wannabe hippie chick looked almost cute with her mouth curved up, her eyes sparkling.

“Ha. No. I mean do you prefer cats over dogs?”

Shrugging, his eyes on the dog, he moved to the left. “I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had a pet.”

His mother said they were too much work. See? This was all her fault. If she’d let him have a dog or a cat or even that parakeet he’d wanted when he was ten, he’d know how to act around animals. Not be stuck here waiting for this dumb dog to bite him.

Not forced to have this stupid conversation with Gracie.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Gracie murmured, sympathy in her big eyes.

Great. Now Gracie Weaver felt sorry for him. Jesus.

“Whatever.” He started walking. He hoped no one had seen them together. He’d busted his ass to make the right kind of friends in Shady Grove and the last thing he needed was to be caught socializing with someone like Gracie. She was too big of a dork with her weird clothes and misfit friends.

Too different.

She wasn’t exactly a
complete
loser. She just wasn’t in the same league as Luke and Kennedy and their friends.

Andrew’s friends now.

Heavy panting sounded behind him. A moment later, her dog nudged his thigh. Andrew jumped, then coughed to cover what had sounded too much like a squeak of surprise. No matter how fast Andrew walked, the dog kept pace. He glared at Gracie. “You following me?”

“Seeing as how I was heading this way when I interrupted your little temper tantrum,” she said, not sounding upset by his bitchy tone, “I’d say the answer to that is no. Besides, in case it’s skipped your attention, I live next to you. I’m heading home. If it’ll make you feel better, safer, Sauron and I can walk on the other side of the street.”

And have her telling everyone he was afraid of her dumb dog? No thanks.

Though, in truth, he wouldn’t mind if the animal were on the other side of the street. The other side of town would be even better. Andrew stopped, his hands fisted. “I told you,” he ground out the words from between his teeth, “I’m not scared of him.”

She kept walking as if she didn’t care whether he was next to her or not.

Like she was the one who didn’t want to be seen with
him
.

Fine with him, he thought, moving again. He’d wanted to be alone. Not be bothered by his chatty next-door neighbor. Or worse, listen to her lecture him on the proper way to handle his frustration, on how to deal with his anger.

He snorted. What did she know? She’d never had cancer. She hadn’t been forced to move across the country. She didn’t have to live with his mother.

He had real problems. Ones Gracie could never understand.

The dog paused to sniff a street sign. Andrew kept walking, his long legs closing the distance between them. Gracie didn’t even glance his way. Good. He didn’t want her attention. He’d just keep going. Pass her and not look back.

He would have, too, except when he got close, he heard her humming “Rivers and Roads” by The Head and the Heart.

One of his favorite bands.

That surprise caused him to sort of stop and stare at her until she raised her eyebrows. Only then did he realize he was acting like an idiot.

“Your dog’s name is Sauron?” he asked.

At the sound of it, the dog looked at Andrew. Wagged his tail.

“Yes,” Gracie said, her curly hair lifting in the breeze. “It’s from
Lord of the Rings.
”

“I know.” He wasn’t a moron. “Sauron’s the villain,” he pointed out.

Her lips twitched as if holding back a smile. Or a secret. “He’s too big to be named after a Hobbit. Even one as cool as Frodo. Plus, my mom gave him to me so it seemed only fitting to name him after the bad guy.” She tugged the leash and she and the dog started walking again. Andrew went with them. “There were books before the movies.”

His mouth tightened at her condescending tone. “I know that, too. I read them.”

He’d read a lot when he was sick. It was his escape.

“What was your favorite one?” she asked.

“I guess
The Fellowship of the Ring
.”

She nodded. “That was a good one, but my fave is
The Return of the King
.”

He wanted to ask why but she might think it a dumb question. They walked in silence for another block, but it wasn’t as weird or awkward as he would have thought. He glanced at her. She wasn’t ugly—though the brown-and-orange dress she wore qualified—it was more that she didn’t seem to care what she looked like. Each morning she must close her eyes, reach into her closet and put on the first thing she happened to grab.

Today’s outfit was a perfect example. Brown tights, fur-topped boots that made an annoying clopping sound on the sidewalk, and that dress with its long, billowy sleeves. Plus, it ballooned around her stomach.

Like she wanted to look fat.

Her light brown hair reached her waist. There was so much of it, all these tight curls, one on top of the other, it was a wonder she could even hold her head up. But, he supposed, she could qualify as cute. If you weren’t too picky.

They were in a couple classes together—AP history and trig. Even though he didn’t put in much effort in his schoolwork any longer, he still managed to get good grades. But so did Luke and Kennedy, so he didn’t feel like a dork about being smart.

More than once, he’d caught Gracie looking at him, only to drop her gaze when he turned her way. Maybe she had a thing for him.

The idea didn’t totally suck. It wasn’t inconceivable, either. Over the past year, girls had started noticing him more and more, thanks to his growing a few inches and finally putting on some muscle. It was cool, being checked out. Wanted.