The Banshee and the Linebacker (A Paranormal Romance) (4 page)

The bell for fifth period rang. The chattering of the girls who'd been washing their hands and putting on make-up trailed behind them as they left. The outer door swooshed shut and just as quickly swooshed open again.

"Are you okay, Tara?" My friend, Juliette's voice, high-pitched and dripping in placid concern, echoed against the tile walls. "You've been acting weird. I'm worried about you."

"I'm okay. Go on," I said. "You'll miss class."

"No," she replied. "I have an appointment with the guidance counselor and she said it was okay to ... anyway, I don't have to go."

As she chattered I glanced up. The graffiti carved on the inside of the door screamed out at me: Tara Sucks.

Lashonda had carved those words into the stall on the first day of the school year when I'd refused to join a group of the cheerleaders in a drinking party. She seemed certain I could pass for twenty-one and buy them a supply of beer. I refused, as did Juliette.

"You and Juliette," Lashonda had groused. "Just a couple of goody-goodies. You both suck."

But in the end it was only my name that ended up on the stall door. Juliette was too nice. Too sweet. Nobody wanted to hurt
her
feelings.

The words on the door, even if not true then, were certainly true now. I did suck. I sucked big time. Reaching into my purse, I got out a ballpoint and scratched in an exclamation point next to Lashonda's carving.

But defacing public property didn't make me feel any better. Had I expected it to?

Sabotaging the football stadium briefly seemed an option to saving Liam, until I acknowledged that I had no idea how to do it. Maybe calling in a bomb threat would...but no. The mania about football was so high around here that it might cause a delay while they checked for a device, but it wouldn't cause them to cancel the entire game.

"Come out and talk to me," Juliette said, knocking with a delicate rap on the metal door. "I want to help."

"Can you set fire to the Astroturf in the stadium for me?"

"What? No. Of course not," Juliette sputtered but I barely heard her.

Grabbing the phone out of my purse, I did a quick Internet search. The answer about synthetic grass being pretty much nonflammable made me toss the phone back into my bag in disgust.

"Damn Astroturf!" I shouted.

"What is this about?" Juliette asked. "Why are you so angry at the fake grass?"

"Fake grass?" I cried. "That's the least of my worries."

"Okay," she said. "But I thought you hated it."

Keagan's words came back to me:
Liam's ass is grass—or in this case Astroturf— on Friday.

"Shut up about the damn Astroturf!" I cried.

"Whatever you want," she said. "Maybe I should get the guidance counselor."

Something else Keagan had said shot into my mind:
I'd have jumped at that offer in a heartbeat.
He was saying he'd miss the game for a chance to have sex with me.

Why hadn't I thought of it before? Keagan was the other half of the equation.

If he didn't play the game on Friday, then he couldn't be there to kill Liam. The fact that someone else could replace Keagan and make the death-dealing tackle remained a possibility. Nothing was certain. But that wasn't likely, I told myself. Only Liam's brother had the heated drive to stop his brother at all costs. The other team members were just playing a sport. Most likely if I could stop Keagan from going to the game, I could save Liam.

Suddenly, I did have a chance to change fate, but only if Keagan had meant what he said. And even if he meant it, would I be able to carry through? I was too inhibited to have sex with Liam. Could I cheat on him with his brother? Of course, Liam would never forgive me. But in the end, which was worse, betraying Liam in a way that he would never forgive or allowing him to die?

Bolting out of the bathroom stall, I shot past a shocked Juliette and out into the hall. I made it out of the school without anyone stopping me. As I strode to my Camry, it occurred to me that this was the first time in my entire school career that I'd skipped out, leaving school before my last class. I'd be missing cheerleading practice too but I didn't care if I was thrown off the squad.

"Who cares if I get in trouble," I muttered. "Where has it gotten me to be good?"

A parking ticket rested on the windshield, which I grabbed and promptly tore to pieces before throwing on the ground. After a few moments fumbling in my purse, I managed to grab the key ring and unlock the car. I jumped inside, fired the engine, and peeled out.

 
Keagan's school was to the south of the downtown and I shattered many a traffic law getting there. Now that I had a plan, it seemed imperative to put it into operation before I chickened out. Or before fate conspired to put some other blockade in my way.

When I turned the corner to approach his school, Keagan and two other guys were lounging next to the dumpster, smoking.

Rolling down the window of the old Camry, I shouted to him. "Hey Keagan. Can I give you a ride home?"

For a mille-second, surprise widened his eyes and slackened his jaw. He tossed the cigarette butt to the pavement and ground it under the heel of his boot. Then a casual smirk replaced surprise. He muttered something to his companions, causing them to laugh and shoot me a leer as Keagan sauntered my way.

"What are you doing here, Goody?"

"Don't call me that." The nickname set my teeth on edge. "Do you want a ride or not?"
Great. What a way to start a seduction
.

"Oh yeah," he said, pulling open the passenger door. "I definitely want a ride."

His statement was loud enough for his friends to hear. From their nasty chuckles I knew they were reading in a double entendre, as Keagan had no doubt meant them to do.

Once he was inside, I set off but couldn't think what to say. We drove along in silence. My hands clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel while Keagan sat in his seat, staring at me with that horrid smile. A glance at him and my stomach churned as if somebody had installed a roulette wheel inside me.

"Put on your seatbelt would you?" I said, finally.

"Concerned about me?" he asked.

"About the ticket I'll get. Since I'm underage I could lose my license."

He didn't answer, just snorted and reached for the strap. He jerked it down and buckled himself in. "Happy?"

So far from happy that happy wasn't even a speck in the distance.

When I didn't answer, he spoke again in that too knowing drawl. "What's this about? I don't imagine you're giving me a ride for my convenience."

I'd have to tell him sometime but somehow I couldn't force out any words. This had all seemed like such a good idea in theory but in practice my seduction techniques reeked.

"Well?" he asked.

"Ummm."

We pulled up in front of his house and I stopped the car but kept it idling.

"Okay, then," Keagan said with a fake cheerfulness, as if he knew I was struggling to come out with something. "Thanks for the ride."

He pulled on the handle and the passenger door swung open. Keagan had one foot out the door when I put a hand on his arm.

"Wait," I said.

He relaxed back into the seat and shut the door while I switched off the ignition.

"Youwannagooutwithme?" The mumbled words tumbled out of my mouth.

"Huh?"

Straightening my shoulders, I sucked in a deep breath. This ninny act of mine just wouldn't do. I turned and faced him.

Staring Keagan in the eye, I said, "A date. You and me. How about it?"

Except for a few blinks, Keagan's expression didn't register any reaction. Why had I never noticed before what long lashes he had over those gray eyes?

"You want to go on a date. With me." He pronounced every word distinctly.

"Yes."

Now his eyebrows arched and he pointed at himself. "With me?"

I nodded.

Shifting to turn away and stare at the floorboards of the car, he said, "Sure. Tonight?"

"No. Tomorrow night."

"After the game?" Keagan looked up at me and a smirk twisted his lips. His eyes twinkled with a cynicism that cut at me. Somehow he already knew what I would say. I said it anyway.

"No. During the game."

"Do I get the same deal you offered Liam," he joked. "You'll go with me to the reserve?"

"Yes," I said, swallowing a lump the size of the hope diamond. "If that's what you want."

"Why?" He asked.

"Maybe I just want someone to care enough about me to give up the
big game
. You heard Liam. I'm a manipulative tease."

"That just doesn't seem like you," he muttered. He shook his head as if trying to clear it of confusion. "There has to be something else—"

Interrupting him, I squeezed his arm. "The important thing is you said you'd have taken the deal."

"You were joking." His eyes bored into mine with their intensity. "So I was teasing you."

"I'm not joking now." My gaze didn't waver from his. "I want to go out with you. You've been telling me to go wild. Now I have."

"I don't believe it," he said. " Something is going on and I just don't know what."

The thoughts in his head almost screamed out of his furrowed brow, thoughts that would have him backing out. I had to stop those thoughts.

Acting on impulse, I lunged forward to plant a hard kiss on his lips. When I pulled back, slightly breathless myself, his eyes had widened and his mouth had shaped into an "o".

"Wha—" He touched a finger to his lips.

"There. I want your awesome body. I want to go out with you. Satisfied?"

His face relaxed back into his cynical smirk. "Okay," he finally said. "I'll go out with you."

"Good—"

"But if we're going to the reserve, we go tonight."

When I would have protested he added, "And tomorrow night. Two dates. You spend the night with me at the reserve tonight and I'll go out with you tomorrow night during the game."

My mind spun as I nodded.

"But there's one more thing you have to do," he said.

Nodding again I said, "I'll do it."

"Don't you even want to know what it is before you agree?"

"Whatever it is, I agree."

 
In for a penny, in for a pound. Even if it was a pound of my flesh, what choice did I have? How much worse could it be anyway?

* * * * *

When I arrived at the Ellsworth house promptly at six, as Keagan had demanded, I switched off the car engine but couldn't quite bring myself to go in. After about five minutes, I pushed the handle mechanism, swung the car door open, and got out. I then grabbed my purse, to sling the strap over my shoulder and across my chest, before straightening my pink cardigan so the buttons wouldn't bunch.

"Stop stalling." A thump of my fist to thigh didn't produce movement. "And stop talking to yourself or somebody will think you're crazy."
What do you mean somebody? You are crazy.

Eventually, dragging in a deep breath, I set off. The walk up the path to the house was like the walk to the gallows—
not to be overly dramatic or anything
. Every step of my clogs on the cement seemed to echo. I was about to fulfill Keagan's condition for the date and it had been worse than I thought.

After a couple tentative knocks so soft that the most attentive elephant couldn't hear them, I pulled myself up straight and wiped my wet palms against my denim skirt. "Quit being ridiculous. You can do this," I muttered before rapping—hard. Pounding was probably a fair characterization.