Catch Twenty-Two Page 20

  So I drive around town with no real direction, ending up at a small park near the center of town. I’ve been here before. A couple of the guys met up days ago to drink a few beers and of course talk football and easy girls. I tagged along with Linc just to get out of the house and put a little distance between Frankie and me. It didn’t help then, and it doesn’t seem to help now.

  The park is different in the daylight than it was a couple of nights ago. Now, there are small groups of children playing, running around and laughing as they chase each other. Two little girls with pigtails and rosy cheeks play in the dirt, uncaring if they get their clothes dirty.

  Several little boys use sticks they found to sword fight, laughing without an ounce of seriousness when they best their playmates.

  As I watch, I feel a smile begin to form on my face.

  What are the chances that the same night my dad took his last breath, I created another life?

  That has to mean something, right?

  I guess one could argue that it was the stupidity of tossing the frustrating condom to the side and entering Frankie bare that lead to our current situation, and fate had nothing to do with it, but I can’t see it that way.

  And honestly, even though we’re too young to have a baby, the situation is coming, and there’s no way around it. This is happening, and with that realization, I spend the next couple of hours staring off into space trying to figure out my life.

  Football, school, having a good time and not worrying about anything all falls to the side. I have one obligation now, and the longer I think about it, the harder it is for me to crank my truck and drive back to the Young’s house.

  Going by Frankie’s reaction earlier, she isn’t going to be ready to talk about what happens next, and I’m terrified she’s going to shove me away like I’ve done to her a million times just to protect herself from me, protect the baby from me. That stings, but I understand it, too. I haven’t given her any reason to trust me. The connection we have has been built on anger, sadness, and a chemistry I can’t even begin to explain.

  She doesn’t trust me, and as much as I want to build that trust, I bet she isn’t even willing to give me a chance.

  I don’t realize I’ve spent the entire day sitting in the park watching kids play until the setting sun glares in my face on the drive back. My frustration doubles when I pull up in front of the house and see her dad’s car in the driveway. Of course, today of all days he would be home. Both of her parents are gone for weeks at a time, and tonight when I need to talk to her about the most important thing in our lives, he’s here.

  Still feeling like a stranger and definitely unwelcome here, I barely resist the urge to lift my knuckles and knock before walking inside.

  Instead of heading straight upstairs, I go to the kitchen, knowing I’ll find Mr. Young sitting at the dining room table pouring over sales spreadsheets while sipping on a glass of whiskey. He’s gone for work constantly, and then he comes home and works some more.

  “Hey,” I tell him, initiating conversation for the very first time.

  I may not be in his home much longer, but we’re going to be in each other’s lives, and even though I despise this man for leaving Frankie alone so much, I know I’m going to need to build a relationship with him.

  “Zeke,” he grunts, not even lifting his head from the paperwork.

  “How’s work?” I ask stupidly as I grab a soda from the fridge.

  “Busy as always,” he returns, the tone of his voice making it clear he doesn’t want to be bothered.

  “Okay,” I say awkwardly. “I guess I’ll get an early start on homework.”

  “Zeke,” Mr. Young snaps before I can leave the room.

  My blood freezes in my veins.

  Did Frankie already tell him about the baby? Is he going to tell me to pack my things and leave his home?

  My fingers drum on the soda can as I turn back around to face him.

  “Yes, sir?”

  His lip twitches, and I can tell he’s appreciative of the respect I’m offering, but I’m certain appreciation won’t keep him from kicking my ass for knocking up his only daughter.

  “Frankie came home sick today. Be quiet up there so she can rest.”

  His eyes drill into me as if he’s trying to decipher some code, but I nod in understanding. This man would string me up if he knew what was really going on. He was adamant about me keeping my hands to myself when I moved in, but what none of us knew at the time is that my child was already growing inside of Frankie before she boarded that plane in Utah and left me without saying goodbye.

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him before arrowing straight to my room.

  The pain of being left behind still stings. It burns me like a fire poker in my gut. When I needed her the most, she just walked away. I try to tell myself that all the pain, hers and mine, are my fault. We could’ve had an amazing summer, the foundation for an incredible life together if only I had gotten out of my own head and let it happen. Now everything is in such a mess, I don’t know what our future holds.

  I wait hours until I’m sure Mr. Young has gone to bed before I approach the bathroom door to Frankie’s room. The knob doesn’t turn because she’s locked it from the other side, effectively keeping me out of her room.

  “Frankie,” I whisper as I press my forehead to the cold wood.

  She doesn’t answer, and the burn of her rejection clogs in my throat.

  “Frankie, please open up,” I beg, but I’m only met with silence.

  If we were alone in the house, I know I’d break down the door and demand that she talk to me, but we aren’t, and it kills me to walk away.

  I take a shower, and when I’m done, I dress and sit on the floor, just waiting and hoping that she’ll walk into the bathroom, but the lock never clicks over, and hours later, I wake up curled in a ball. As much as I try to keep my anger from coming to a head, it’s impossible.

  Her rejection kills me, but not as much as waking up in the morning and realizing she left the house without talking to me first.

  Still unsure of what happens next, I grab my football gear and head to practice, if only to postpone what I know is coming. If she wants to ignore the entire situation, refusing to talk to me about it to make plans, then I can do the exact same.

  Chapter 38

  Frankie

  Piper scrunches her nose up when I walk out of the bathroom stall and wipe my mouth with the paper towel she’s holding out for me.

  “Morning sickness?”

  I nod, bending my head and drinking a mouthful of water, swishing it, and spitting it into the basin.

  “Yeah. It’s awful. All I want to do is sleep.”

  “When does it end?”

  I shrug. I literally slept all day yesterday after the confrontation with Zeke. “I haven’t really done a lot of research yet.”

  Piper pulls out her phone as I wash my hands. “Google says that the first trimes—”

  She snaps her mouth closed and pockets her phone when the bathroom door opens. We stand in silence as a freshman girl uses the restroom. She doesn’t speak again until the girl washes her hands and leaves.

  “Usually the morning sickness is gone after the first trimester,” she whispers as if the walls can hear my secret.

  I nod, knowing I need to do more research on what’s happening and will happen to my body as my pregnancy progresses, but I just can’t focus on that right now.

  “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

  “I know.”

  “Your dad made me leave when I showed up after school yesterday. Did you tell him? He seemed more agitated than usual.”

  I shake my head, running shaky fingers under my eyes. I’m not wearing makeup, but the dark circles under my eyes make it look like smeared eyeliner is marking my face.

  “Did you talk to Zeke?”

  “Not really,” I mutter.

  “But he knows?”

  I nod, not having the energy to go through a
blow-by-blow of him finding the test before I could read them myself. I don’t know what he did with them, but they were gone when I went to use the bathroom after I heard him storm out of the house.

  “What did he say?”

  “I didn’t give him the chance to say anything. I made him leave me alone. He left and then Dad showed up.”

  “You have to talk to him.”

  I sigh again. It seems to be my reaction to everything these days. “I know, but we can’t even talk without arguing, and this isn’t a conversation I need to have while one of my parents is home.”

  “So you didn’t see him this morning?”

  “I left before he got up.”

  Piper frowns. “You can’t avoid this forever.”

  I glare at her reflection in the mirror.

  “What are you going to do?” she asks.

  “Have a baby.”

  “Obviously.” She sighs herself, placing a calm hand on my back. “And when do you plan to tell your mom and dad?”

  “Never?” I give her a weak smile, and she returns it. “I may not have to tell them ever. They pay so little attention to me, the kid could be in kindergarten and they wouldn’t even notice.”

  “True,” Piper agrees. “But I’m sure they’ll notice the OBGYN bills. You know your dad goes over expenses with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “I think it’s his way of checking on Mom to make sure she isn’t cheating on him.”

  Piper winces, and I feel like a fool for putting my family business out there like that.

  “Things bad at home with them?”

  I shake my head. “Everything is just as it’s always been. Dad will be gone by this evening and Mom isn’t expected to be home until Tuesday.”

  “So you’ll have plenty of time to talk to Zeke and figure out what you’re going to do.”

  “Which reminds me,” I begin with a grin, “can I stay the weekend at your house?”

  “You can’t avoid talking to him forever, but of course you’re welcome at my house anytime.”

  “Think your dad would be able to handle his disappointment when I make the baby’s first pediatric appointment?” I ask as Piper holds the door open for me.

  “Probably not,” she says with a laugh.

  I’m grinning, too, when we exit the restroom, but it doesn’t last long.

  I may have been able to avoid Zeke at home this morning, but I knew deep down, I’d have to face him at school today, and there he is, posted up against his locker with Bronwyn standing right in front of him.

  He isn’t touching her, and he isn’t smiling, but that doesn’t keep Bronwyn from gripping his shirt with one hand while the fingers of her other hand curl into the belt loop of his jeans. Her head is tilted back and a wide smile is on her face as she tells him something with a little too much enthusiasm.

  Seeing them together has hurt me every single time from the first time when he wrapped his arm over her shoulder the first day of school, but after knowing what we created together, seeing him with her right now slams into me with the force of a nuclear bomb.

  As if sensing me somehow, Zeke looks up, finding me staring at him and his girlfriend. On instinct, my hand goes to my stomach, not because I feel the need to protect myself but because the sight of them together is enough to make me sick again.

  His eyes lock on my hand, but when he tries to step around Bronwyn, she prevents him from leaving with a tug on his belt loop. He must not want to come to me very badly because he breaks eye contact and looks down at her again.

  “You don’t need him,” Piper whispers in my ear as she tugs on my arm.

  I’m thankful she begins to steer me away from the hall because I know without interruption I’d stand there all day and stare at him, willing him to choose me even though he’s toxic.

  This baby is going to need him, eventually. I just hope that he grows up before he’s partially responsible for raising a child of his own.

  I don’t know where Zeke goes, but he doesn’t show up for first period. The only thing that keeps my mind from racing is seeing Bronwyn prance in like she owns the place without him. If neither of them showed up, I’d probably end up running out of school and demand that Dad kick Zeke out of the house and homeschool myself the rest of the year.

  I can’t control his life. I’m well aware of that. I’m also aware that I’m the one who has to change everything from my diet to my sleeping habits. Zeke has no obligation right now, and as much as I try not to be bitter about it, I can’t help it.

  By lunchtime, Zeke is in the cafeteria, only this time he doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s staring in my direction the entire time. It wouldn’t be so frustrating if he would get up and come over and talk to me. We could find a quiet classroom or head out to the courtyard since we’ll probably end up yelling at each other and need as much privacy as possible.

  But he just sits there, his golden-flecked hazel eyes burning holes into my face.

  “You sure have his attention today,” Dalton mutters as he places his lunch tray beside Piper’s.

  Piper rolls her lips between her teeth to keep from talking, and I know it won’t be long before she spills the beans to her boyfriend. After weeks of being around Dalton, I’ve come to accept that he’s just a part of my relationship with Piper now. My secrets become his secrets by default because they don’t keep anything from each other.

  It’s also how I know that even though Dalton didn’t tell me himself, word is that Zeke jumped on Bronwyn’s ass for insulting me around him and that’s why she no longer does it in front of him anymore.

  “I know we’re not friends with them,” Violet, a girl Piper and Dalton became friends with over the summer, begins as she sits down with excitement glistening in her eyes, “but we’re friends with you. Do we get to go to the party?”

  “Party?” Piper asks the same time I say, “Huh?”

  “Yeah. I heard in World Geography that it’s Zeke’s birthday. Apparently, he’s throwing a big party at your house tonight.” She grins as if it’s the best news she’s heard all year.

  My eyes snap up to Piper’s.

  A party? Just yesterday he found out I’m pregnant and he’s throwing a party? So much for thinking he’ll be responsible.

  “I’m not going to be there,” I tell her, Piper nodding in understanding. “But you’re more than welcome to go.”

  If they destroy my parents’ house, maybe that will get Zeke away from me sooner.

  One can only hope he’ll go back to Utah because seeing him every day is killing me.

  I can’t even look at Zeke as Violet and Caleb, another guy that has now somehow become part of our little group, lower their heads to gossip about the cool kids across the cafeteria.

  I have more important things going on. Who cares about their debate on whether or not the Triple Threat, also known as Linc, Graham, and Bennett, three guys on the football team, are scouting for their next victim?

  Chapter 39

  Zeke

  “Shot?” Bronwyn says with a wide smile as she holds up a tiny glass filled with golden liquid.

  I shake my head and walk away. It doesn’t take any time for her to turn her half-drunk attention to Kyle, a guy on the baseball team. I’ve heard talk of them hooking up. Hell, if the rumors are true, Bronwyn and Dalton were the it couple last year until he caught Bronwyn in a risqué three-way with his former best friend and another guy from the baseball team. Well, that and the car accident that robbed him of all of his memories. The best thing that ever happened according to him.

  I knew Bronwyn was fast the second she touched me without permission before I even knew her name. I’d expect that kind of behavior from a drunken girl at a dance club, but the first day at a new school was a little much. I still clung to her like a lifeline that day because she helped me avoid doing what I really wanted to do.

  Man if I could go back in time, I’d change a million things from the last couple of months.

  Last week I
let it slip in practice that my birthday was coming up and at the time a party didn’t seem like a bad idea, but now that I’m in the middle of it, I wish I would’ve turned the porch light off earlier and not answered the door when Linc showed up three hours ago with enough liquor to drown an army and ten people I don’t even know.

  The heat from so many bodies, the loud music, and the flickering strobe light someone thought to bring are all contributing to the headache building at the base of my neck. Frankie isn’t here. I don’t even know if she came to the house after school today, and that just means that it’ll be another damn day before I can talk to her.

  Frustrated but unable to really do anything about it at the moment, I grab a beer and head to the living room, choosing to sit on the sofa and watch people act like idiots. A makeshift dance floor has been created in the center of the room after someone pulled the coffee table to the side and slid the two sofas further apart. Several girls have made the best use of it. They dance around each other, smiling, laughing, and having a good time until a slower song, one with a more sensual beat, echoes through the room. At the prodding and encouragement of nearly every guy in the room, the two girls cling to each other, whispering in each other’s ears while their hands roam the other’s body.

  The guys, loving the show, whoop and holler for them to begin stripping, and even though one girl seems hesitant, she doesn’t stop her dance partner from lifting her shirt high enough to reveal her lace bra.

  The sight does nothing for me. Yeah, I’m a guy, and I imagine I’d be drooling on myself like all the other guys around me if I could concentrate on what’s going on right in front of my face, but my thoughts are a million miles away, or just a couple miles away with Frankie who is no doubt at Piper’s house for the night.

  If she were home, this wouldn’t even have happened. If she were in her room when Linc knocked on the door, I would’ve turned him away, liquor, friends, and all, before he could even step foot in the house, but she’s ignoring me, and I stupidly thought the party would help keep her off of my mind. Man, was I wrong.