Labeled Love (6 page)

He teases me that my pale blue eyes against my jet-black hair make me look like I should be an actor or something. I think it’s his way of telling me I’m good-looking. I see the wandering eyes and suggestive looks, especially from the girls in the grade ahead of me. If I wanted to, I could get any one of them. I guess I have that “bad boy look,” so they say, and I’m only in the seventh grade.

“So, are you ready for our history test today? I hate testing week.”

I start to answer Landon when a girl’s voice interrupts us.

“Hey, Jace,” Kayla says. Here’s a prime example of someone that tries to get my attention. She’s one of the popular girls around here. She’s in the eighth grade and popular for being the school go-to. In other words, she’s the school slut. There are plenty of those, but she happens to be the best looking of all of them, so everyone wants a piece of her, and she’s willing to give it to them.

She’s almost fifteen, but you would think by the way she acts and dresses that she’s in college and not middle school. Maybe girls don’t even dress like that in college; maybe Kayla dresses more like a stripper. Girls grow up fast around here. I doubt many of them have good role models. Still, don’t her parents see what she leaves the house in?

I don’t want to acknowledge her, but I push the words out of my mouth. “Hi, Kayla.”

Landon gives me a sideways glance and rolls his eyes. “Can she be any more obvious?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know.” I don’t think she cares if she is obvious.

“You don’t even want to play around with her, Jace? She could probably teach you a few things for when you’re ready to make your moves on the ladies.” He laughs as I roll my eyes. We part and head to our classes.

I’m only in class for thirty minutes before that empty feeling begins to churn in my stomach.

Damn, four hours until lunch.

I FINISH MY
history test that I’m sure I failed and wait impatiently for the bell to ring. I’m ready to get out of school, but not ready to go home. I make a last-minute decision to go to the local community center. Even though I haven’t been there in a couple of weeks, I can always count on them to provide snacks. That’s more than I can say for my house. I could really use something since I ate my lunch so fast I barely processed any of it. I’m a growing boy, and there’s never really enough food on those little trays. I check my pocket, where I picked up some change lying around the house, and I have just enough to ride the bus. The bus stop is right next to the school, and the drop off is not far from the center.

When I arrive at the community center, I head straight to the snacks. Wasting no time, I tear open a bag of pretzels and pop one into my mouth as one of the volunteers greets me. I think his name is Frank.

“Nice to see you, Jace. It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been here. How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” I say, inhaling more pretzels. I must look like I’m food deprived. Well, that’s true, but he doesn’t need to know that. I don’t need any issues. I’m sure my mom would love that. I can just hear her. “
Oh, great, Jace. Now they think I don’t feed you. That’s all I need.”
I’m just trying to skate through my childhood without any major hang-ups holding me back. Frank waits for me to give him more of an answer. “I’ve been busy with school. We’ve had a lot of studying lately.”

Lie.

I haven’t studied at all.

“Well, good for you, Jace. You should do well on your tests.” In a cheerful voice he adds, “It’s amazing what you can achieve when you put in the effort.”

Not used to positive chats, I nod my head. I want to grab another bag of pretzels, but I don’t want to seem greedy when there are other kids here. When I walk away, I feel bad that I lied. It’s not that I don’t want to do well in school; it’s just that school has never come easy for me.

I toss the empty bag into the trashcan. I know there is a football game going on out back, so I head outside. If I can’t play on a team, this is the next best thing.

Taking off my hoodie, I throw it onto the bench next to the grass and jog out onto the field, hoping they have room for another player. I recognize most of the guys since they’re pretty much here every week. “You guys got room for me?”

The bigger one making the calls waves me over. I look like an athlete, so I always get picked to play. Scratch that. I am athletic. Just because I’ve never played on a team doesn’t mean any of these guys are better than me. Trust me, I can run circles around most kids.

WHEN MOM AND
I pull up to the center, it reminds me of the neighborhood I saw in an old movie once about gangs, but the location is a far cry from where I spend my time. I’m used to a different… honestly… a snooty environment. Broken sidewalk entrance, graffiti-filled block walls, and just enough music blasting from the ongoing traffic paint the perfect movie-making scenario.

I love the adventure of new places. I’m not one to shy away from change. As we get out of the car, Mom tries to talk to me about how we’re no different than others. “Mom, seriously, are we having this conversation?”

“I just don’t want you to think we are any better than those that come here.”

“Why would I think that? I’m not that shallow, Mom.”

“I’m not saying you’re shallow. You’re just not used to this environment.”

“Now you sound shallow.”

She gives me a little smirk and says, “Touché, my girl.” I smile.

Mom opens the doors, and I hate to admit it, but the center does smell like a dirty locker room. I won’t tell Jules that, though. Immediately, a man comes up to us, introducing himself as the director of the center. Mom starts to talk to him while I set the box of books next to her.

“I’m going to look around,” I quietly tell her. She nods.

I walk aimlessly through the large room. Everyone is busy, and I feel out of place. When I see double doors leading to the outside, I go up and peer out the window, noticing a bunch of boys playing football.

Perfect.

I walk out.

AFTER PLAYING FOR
a while, I start to feel unusually warm, so I lift the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat. I’m in the middle of our huddle when a distracting voice chimes in asking to join our game, and as we break apart, I see who’s attached to that soft voice.

I see her.

Wiping the sweat out of my eyes, I try to get a clear view. She’s tiny. I’d say a couple of years younger than me. She’s wearing white, ratty, barely-tied Converse, and her hair is dark brown and long. As she stands there with her hands on her hips, everyone ignores her.

But I’m drawn to her.

I look down at her shoes as I start walking toward her. She’s wearing a pink tank top with little flowers on it. I get closer, seeing dark curls hanging loosely down her back. Her hair looks really soft.

I’m in front of her. I smell coconuts, reminding me of a tropical sunscreen and summer. She’s trying to look tough, or maybe it’s confidence, while I’m trying to breathe properly. The boys start teasing her about girls not playing football, and she looks away. Why, I don’t know, but the strangest feeling hits me. It’s like a glow is cast behind her, making her look like an angel.

That’s so stupid.

It’s hotter than hell out here, and the sun’s bright rays are making me squint that I’m practically seeing red spots. I’m probably dehydrated and need some water. Suddenly, she turns toward me, and we make eye contact. I swallow hard and stare. She’s all bright blue eyes, and the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Then she gives me the biggest stink eye. “Are you going to let me play?”

I’m startled, knowing that mean little face has the sweetest voice attached to it. I almost want to laugh. It’s like she’s trying hard to be tough. We’re a pretty intimidating bunch of guys. She’s definitely not from around here.

All of a sudden that rush of warmth I felt a few minutes ago radiates inside me again, and my usual confidence is in my throat. She has the biggest, deepest, and bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She takes her hands off her hips, glances around at the other boys, and then brings her attention back to me. Her hair practically hits me in the face, knocking me right back to reality.

I actually feel like the earth just moved. “Did you just feel that?” I blurt out, but then look down at my feet, feeling out of sorts.

“Feel what?” she says in the cutest tone. My ears perk up. I’m trying to mentally turn up my hearing volume, if that’s even fucking possible. Damn, I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud. Something tells me I wouldn’t want to swear in front of this girl. She might be in the no swear zone.

“I think we just had another earthquake.”

She licks her lips. “No, I didn’t feel anything, but I didn’t feel the one last night, either. I slept like a baby through it. Maybe it’s an aftershock,” she says carelessly.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say in return, rubbing my stomach and causing my shirt to rise.
Is it just me?
My stomach feels weird.

“So, can I play?” She’s completely oblivious to the feeling that just hit me. She stares at me like I’m a moron, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve never felt like this when I’ve looked at a girl before. I can’t stop staring into her eyes. They look wide at me. There had to have just been another little earthquake. I look around, and everyone is waiting on me. “Hell-o,” she says, rolling her eyes.