The Handoff (Big Play #3) (8 page)

#15:

Pixie Girl to the Rescue

Layla

My head is pounding and I don’t want to open my eyes, but I sense someone in the room. I force them open with a grimace. The light is harsh and mean. I don't like it. I need the pain in my body to go away, but I can’t see that happening anytime soon. Squeezing my eyes shut once more, I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a feeble groan before fully committing to the eye-opening.

Finn’s standing in the doorway again. I feel like he gets bigger every time I see him. How have I never noticed the size of him before? He’s always just been this big tank in the background, standing behind the superstars. But when he’s got no one blocking him, he’s kind of remarkable. I blink a few times, trying to ignore the ache in my eyes so I can actually check him out properly. My gaze travels the length of him before popping back up to his shoulders. I don’t know why I like them so much. So he has big, strong arms—big deal. But…there's something about the curve of his bicep beneath his T-shirt that is making my belly curl in ways I've never felt before.

I close my eyes and place a quivering hand against my forehead. Seriously, my fever must be worse than I thought. Finn Jones is not a dreamboat. He’s Judge Jones, the guy who breaks up fights and looks at me like I’m a lost cause.

“Hey, Layla.” His voice, although deep, has a soft, sweet lilt to it. It reminds me of my dad. Tears prickle my eyes as I picture my father in the doorway. He would've walked into the room with a playful smile on his lips and, in spite of my sickness, he would've tried to think of a way to make me laugh.

“Tickle me, and I’ll end you,” I murmur with a sleepy laugh.

Finn tips his head with a bemused smile. “Why would I tickle you?”

I suddenly realize I said the words out loud. My glassy eyes pop wide and I bury my head in the pillow to hide from him.

All I hear is a soft chuckle as he walks into the room.

"So…I’ve thought of a solution," he begins. Something about his sheepish tone puts me on high alert. I'm not going to like the solution. I can already tell.

Slowly swiveling my head on the pillow, I give him a narrow glare. "What did you do?”

"Just be a little open-minded." His long fingers spread in the air like they're trying to counter my attack before it even begins.

Why do I need to be open-minded? I don’t like this.

Finn rubs his hands together and pulls one of his best smiles. His straight white teeth look brilliant framed against his dark lips, and my traitorous mouth starts to curl at the edges.

"This better be good," I mutter.

Finn bobs his head, already trying to sell it. He points over his shoulder as he walks toward the bed. “There's someone downstairs who can help you. I know she's not your favorite person, but she's the best solution I can think of."

Everyone I know who can actually help me is away right now, so who the hell is downstairs as my big solution? I frown, hoping to relay what I'm thinking without actually having to speak. My throat still hurts and, although my nap has taken the rasp away, I’m still feeling kind of fragile.

He picks up on my wary caution and eases his long body down on the edge of my bed.

"It's going to be okay. You have to trust me." His large hand lands on my thigh, running over the duvet with a familiarity that’s almost comforting. Before today, he never touched me unless he was holding me back when I was arguing with my brother. I have to admit I kind of like this sweet side of him. But it’s also unnerving.

I shift my leg from beneath his hand and bunch the covers under my chin. “Okay.” I sigh. "Lay it on me."

He rubs his hand over his short black hair and looks at me. "It's Tori.”

"Tori?” I struggle to sit up, wrestling with the heavy blankets as my weak limbs act like rubber bands. "Why would she come over? I’m horrible to her!"

“It's okay, Layla." Finn pats my leg again like I'm some kind of dog he's trying to calm. “She’s here to help you.”

“Why would she even want to?” My voice pitches high, sounding screechy and irritating. I close my eyes and will myself to breathe evenly. “I'm so confused right now. Why would you ask her to help? What can she possibly do to get me out of this situation?” I slap my hand over my eyes. My finger is resting against my scalding forehead, which is radiating a dry, mean heat that’s making my body shiver. My lips tremble as I fight to keep going with my argument. “I can't believe she actually said yes. Does she even know why she's here?”

Tori steps into the room with a tentative smile on her face. “Sort of,” she says. Her little hand waves the air as she greets me.

All I can do is stare at her and mumble, “Um, hi? I guess.”

Tori snickers, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Hey.”

I swallow then wince as razor-throat kicks in. Finn leans forward and reaches for the glass of water his mother left me. I shake my head but he gives me a stern frown, looking freakishly like her. He then goes and sounds just like her when he orders me to drink it.

“No, it hurts to swallow.”

“This is lemon honey water. It’ll soothe your throat.”

“I don’t want anything in my stomach.” I clench my jaw.

“If you throw up again, you want a little something in your stomach or it’s just gonna hurt.” Finn shuffles down the bed and scoops me up with his arm, forcing me to sit. Tori races forward and bunches some pillows behind my head so I can lie back on the mound and still be sitting.

I glare at their fussing but know I can’t win against Finn’s dark brown eyes and the determination behind them.

Taking my slight lip twitch for acceptance, he presses the cup to my lips and I take a small sip. I grimace against the flavor, but Finn doesn’t let up until I’ve taken at least three mouthfuls.

I push the glass away and scowl at him. He ignores my fierce look and places the cup down next to the steel bowl that will no doubt be holding my puke very soon.

My stomach is twisting and complaining, making it hard to think straight.

I breathe in through my nose and force myself to look at the little pixie girl. She’s wearing dark purple corduroy flares and this crochet white top that shows off the edge of her stomach. Her wrists are littered with bands, and she’s got this feather earring in her right ear with a plain silver stud in the other. It actually looks kind of cool, especially finished off with those kick-ass Doc Martens she’s wearing. I don’t have it in me to compliment her, so I suffice with a fleeting smile instead.

Roxy would die if she knew what I was thinking. Pixie Girl is a hippy freak. Roxy and Michelle pride themselves on going after her fashion sense, or lack thereof.

Smoothing the covers over my body, I give her a droll look. “Okay, so how are you going to help me?”

Tori wrings her hands while she’s talking, looking to the ceiling as if she’s afraid to make real eye contact. “Well, see, I was wondering if maybe you could call your mom and tell her you’re staying with me.”

“Why would I stay with you?”

“Because your friends are away right now, right? I mean, Sammy said Roxy was taking Michelle to LA so your cheerleading friends aren’t here, which leaves…well, who?”

I grit my teeth and look down at my nails. The purple polish is chipping. “Okay, so I guess I’m left with no one.” That isn’t entirely true. I mean, I have the rest of my cheer squad, I guess. But I’m not tight with any of those girls, and I definitely don’t trust them to cover for me.

Holding my breath for a second, I look to the ceiling and force my fuzzy brain to think. Tori, the girl I spend my school days trashing, is standing here offering to help me. It doesn’t make sense. She should be hating on me right now.

It makes me realize how superior she is to me…and all the cheerleaders. We think we’re so high and mighty, but what are we really? Catty, selfish prima donnas who spend our time hating on the sweet ones and dissing their quirky fashion choices.

“So you think I should call my mom and tell her I’m staying with you? I’m guessing she’s not going to buy that one without asking too many questions. Besides, I don’t want her popping over to check in on me.”

“Do you think she’d do that?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. My shoulders feel heavy as I think the truth:
probably not.

Tori purses her lips, her keen eyes studying me. “Well, Colt and I are actually planning on heading to Boise State this break. We thought we’d go up for a couple of nights and stay with his grandparents. We want to look around the university campus and stuff.” Tori tips onto the edges of her shoes as she talks. “I could always say that you’re going with us…”

“Yeah, I’m sure Colt would love that.”

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t. You’re
not
coming with us. I’m just saying you are.”

“My mom’s not going to believe I’d crash a road trip with you guys.”

“She will if we tell her that we’ve become friends.” Tori shrugs then slips her tiny fingers into her pants pockets. “Just sell it like we’ve gotten close because Mack and Colt hang out together all the time. Unless your mom actually visits the school, which I’ve never seen her do, then she has no idea what really goes on.”

Tori swallows and looks to the floor while my gaze shoots back to my chipped nail polish.

“Why are you willing to do this…for
me
?”

Tori voice has a sweet lilt to it. “Because I love Colt, and Mack’s one of his best friends. Your brother’s a really good guy, and if he knew you were in trouble—whatever that trouble might be—I know he’d want me to help you.”

My lips quiver as I fight this intense urge to cry. Licking my lips, I bite them together and nod. I need to swallow so badly, but I don’t want it to hurt, so I let out this sharp breath instead.

I glance up in time to see Finn’s worried expression. I shake my head. He seriously needs to stop looking at me like that or I’m going to burst like a freaking dam and ugly cry right in front of him.

Crying’s exhausting, not to mention a serious hit to my dignity. Not that I have too much left after puking in front of him—twice.

I just want to go back to sleep, but I won’t be able to relax until this whole mother issue is resolved.

“If I pretend to stay with you, do you think your mom will cover for me?”

“Well, she won’t have to for the couple nights we’re away, but I’m sure she’ll be cool.”

“Really?”

Tori waves her hand through the air. “She’s just gotten into sculpting, so the new creative kick is turning her into a complete flake. She doesn’t hear half the stuff I tell her lately, and I’m guessing she has zero idea what’s going on in the house while she’s blasting her music in the garage. Dad’s at work all the time, so I’m kind of in the perfect situation to cover for you.”

I sigh, then feel a light relief flitter through me as I nod. “Okay.” I hold out my hand. “I need a phone, if you have one.”

“Where’s yours?” Finn asks while Tori digs into her pocket. She hands it over to me.

I wince and shake my head, mumbling, “Lost it.”

His dark eyebrows rise. “Really?”

“Don’t ask, okay?” I look away from him as I use Tori’s phone to dial my mother.

I clear my throat, wincing at the pain. Mom’s phone rings twice before she answers. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.” I clear my throat again, trying to kill the raspy sound.

“Oh, hey. Who’s phone are you using?”

“Tori’s. She’s a friend from school.”

“Where’s your phone?” Mom’s tone makes me grit my teeth. No,
hey, baby girl. How’s it going? I didn’t hear you come in last night. Did you end up staying at your friend’s house?

No! I slept on the floor in the gym!

Mrs. Jones appears in the doorway, obviously just returned from whatever she had to do. She has a large shopping bag in her hand. Her assessing gaze travels from me to Tori and then over to Finn. He raises his hand and points at the phone to my ear.

She nods, but then eyes me with an unrelenting look.

Forcing a smile, I speak again, hoping it’s reaching my voice. “I kind of lost it. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that Tori’s invited me to hang out with her this break. She’s heading up to BSU with her boyfriend and I want to tag along. Thought it might be a good chance to see the college again.”

“You went with us last year when we checked it out with Mack. Why do you want to go again?”

“Because when I went last time, I wasn’t thinking about me. And now, I kind of am. Maybe I want to go there.”

“Oh.” Mom’s voice brightens just a little. “Really? That’s great, sweetie. Okay, well, when are you thinking of going?”

My fuzzy brain scrambles for a smooth lie. I punch out the first thing that comes to me. “Um, today, like now.”

“Oh.” Mom’s surprised. “So, I won’t see you again before you leave? Do you have everything you need?”

“Yeah, I packed a bag this morning. Sorry, I should have told you before I left the house, I just…didn’t want to wake you.”