Summer's Desire (50 page)

"Now look
here, young lady,"—that's Coach Bohlen, I think—"that's a very
serious accusation you're making."

"An
accusation that, were it to be proven true," adds Principal Adams gravely,
"could have weighty consequences for this young man's brilliant
future."

"I know
what's at stake,"—Jessica's voice, like a cutting blade—"and I'm
telling the truth. Seth's been doing underground fights and he's your student,
Principal Adams, so it's your duty to do something about it. Like expelling him,
for starters. And Coach Bohlen, you should notify everyone who's offered college
scholarships to Seth. They should know they wanted to support a criminal. And
the police—"

"There's no
need to involve the police," growls Coach Bohlen. "Lewis is a damn
fine boy, the best football player I've ever had, and I'll be damned if—"

"Now Mr.
Bohlen, there's no need for colorful language. And Miss Anderson," adds
the principal acerbically, "I'd appreciate it if you stopped telling
me
what my duty is."

"Then if
you know why aren't you doing it?!" she snaps.

"Miss
Anderson, don't take that tone of voice with me."

"Well, I'm
sick of this! I've been in here for the better part of an hour, and I've been
telling you and telling you that this asshole is doing illegal fights. And all
I've been hearing from you two is what a wonderful quarterback he is and how
much he's done for his damn team and this damn school! Which I don't fucking
care about!!"

"Miss
Anderson, what sort of language is that, coming from a young lady? Please contain
yourself."—Principal Adams, sounding indignant.

"Better yet,
stop lying, Jessica," says Seth, who had been keeping silent until now
(enjoying the show? I wonder). "Of course I don't do illegal fights."

"Yes, you do,
asshole!"

"Where's
your proof of that?" he asks evenly. "Or are your lying words all
you've got?"

"You
asshole, you know where my fucking proof is! Your dirty whore broke into my
house and stole it from me!"

"Miss
Anderson," says the principal, "if you don't stop using such foul
words in my presence, I'm going to ask you to leave my office. And I'll need to
have a conversation with your parents about this issue as well."

"Jessica,"—Seth
again, sounding perfectly calm—"just because your life's a real mess right
now, doesn't mean you should take your anger out on innocent people."

"Innocent?!
You assh—"

"I get it,
how hard it must be for you, what with that porno of you and Josh showing up on
Youtube—"

"You
bastard," she whispers, while the other men in the room seem to be
clearing their throats awkwardly.

"—and being
the talk of the whole school. And your parents, who've gotten naked, slutty
pictures of you in their mail, must be very disappointed and horrified. Not to
mention what the board of admissions at your first choice college must be
thinking now that they've also received those pictures of you. I hear that
they're very keen on moral values at Notre Dame, so they'll probably have to
withdraw your college acceptance."

"You
bastard..." And there's a trembling note in her voice now, the first time
I've ever heard her sounding like this.

"So I get
it, that you're under a lot of stress," says Seth coolly. "But that
doesn't mean you can come in here and start telling lies about me."

"Miss
Anderson,"—Principal Adams again, sounding embarrassed—"given your
personal circumstances, we all understand why you might be... distraught. So we
can be sympathetic—but only up to a point, and I'm warning you, you've already
exhausted my patience. You need to see that your telling lies about one of our
most exceptional student-athletes won't do anything to improve your own
situation. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"A damned
fine boy he is, Lewis!" interjects Coach Bohlen. "Finest player I've
ever seen!"

"I haven't
been lying," says Jessica, but there's no strength left in her voice.

"Miss
Anderson, of course you haven't been lying
intentionally
," replies
Principal Adams in a placating tone. "I believe we can all agree on that
if you wish. You were merely... mistaken, yes? Confused because of all the
stress that you've been under."

"A damn
lousy mistake to make if you ask me," says Coach Bohlen grouchily. "Could've
made serious trouble for our boy here."

"But it's
all settled now," interpolates Principal Adams. Then, in a very serious,
even intimidating, tone: "Miss Anderson, do take care, however,
not
to be caught telling such appalling lies again. Or else you'll find yourself in
worse trouble than you already are. Do you understand, Miss Anderson?"

"Yes,"
she whispers, sounding utterly defeated.

Then there's the
sound of a chair scraping against the floor, and a few seconds later Jessica
exists the office. She looks very pale, and there's a fine sheen of sweat
covering her skin. She has her hands wrapped around her middle and seems to be shivering
slightly. On seeing me, she turns to stone, and burning hate flares up in her gray
eyes.

But an instant
later, the fire goes out. She passes me by without a word and walks out of the
main office.

"Really
sorry, Lewis, that we had you come out here." That's Coach Bohlen's voice reaching
me through the door, along with a sound as if he'd thumped Seth on the back.
"Nasty business, that."

"Very
disagreeable girl indeed," says Principal Adams. "At least she saw
sense in the end. I doubt she'll be slandering anyone again anytime soon.
Still, I'll need to have a chat with her father. Tell him he should keep a
better rein on his daughter."

A long silence
descends, heavy with undertones and meanings.

Then Coach
Bohlen breaks the quiet: "So, Michigan Wolverines, huh Lewis?"

They get into an
excited discussion about Seth's choice for his college team, and I tune them
out as the last of the tension leaves me.

I go to Ms. Elrond
and give her a huge smile. "It seems that I won't be needed in the principal's
office after all. I had better head back to class."

Then I skip out
of the main office, pretty much inhabiting cloud nine. Until I remember that
Ms. Walker is arriving in town this afternoon.

For me.

*
* *

Seth's parked
the car in front of the coffee shop where I'm set to meet Ms. Walker. He
unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face me. His right hand, having just
released my left hand when he stopped the car, grips me again in an iron hold.

"Stop being
so anxious," I tell him, trying to sound confident. But I'm not confident
myself, not really. Inside my belly, butterflies are doing so many somersaults
that I'm feeling queasy—the bad kind of nervous butterflies, not the good,
lusty ones I feel when my boy makes me hot.

He glowers at
me. "You want me to be calm when your social worker is sitting in that
coffee shop waiting for you? Because you told her to come here and take you away?
To fucking take you away from me?"

I wince at the
battering ram of his fury. "I didn't tell her I'd go with her, not in so
many words."

His beautiful
blue eyes literally glow with his ire. "No, Sunny, you just told her she
had to drop everything and come see you. And that you couldn't stay here
anymore. Right, that makes everything so much better!"

I wince again,
at his sarcasm, and cover with my hand the angry pulse at his neck. I stroke
him gently. "I'll explain everything to her. I'll explain about us and ask
for her help."

"What if
she doesn't get it?" He tugs my hand down and lowers his forehead into the
crook of my neck, and his arms go around me and envelop me in the steel and
heat of his body. "Sunny, what if she wants to take you from here?"

I hug him back
as tightly as I can. "I won't go with her, Seth. Didn't I already promise
you that I won't leave you, no matter what?"

A restless
silence envelops us both. I breathe him in, fill my lungs with his healthy,
wonderful scent; and I feel his nose nuzzle into my neck.

At length, I
hear: "Sunny, school ends next week. If we have to, we'll leave Rockford
then."

"Seth, no! Didn't
we already decide to stay here until the end of July? Until you'll have to join
your college team for fall practice? Since we both have jobs here, we should
earn as much money as we can until we leave."

He lifts his
head and his eyes are brimming with forceful determination. "If your
meeting with Ms. Walker doesn't go well, we'll leave sooner. You'll come with
me?"

Oh God, please
let the meeting with Ms. Walker go well! If I just run away with Seth, Ms.
Walker will report my disappearance to the police for sure. She'll be worried,
maybe she'll think I was kidnapped... I'll have to hide until I'm eighteen, and
hiding wouldn't be easy when people like Jessica would be only too happy to
point out that I can surely be found wherever Seth is. And Seth is dependent on
his football scholarship. He'd be found so easily.

But there's no
point arguing with Seth about all of that again. He knows the risks just as
well as I do. Most terrifying of all, I know he'd be willing to give up his
scholarship so that we can stay together. I'll do everything to stop him from
making that sacrifice... except leave him. I cannot leave him ever again.

I feel a tear
fall down in a scalding trail down my cheek. "Seth, you know I'll come
with you wherever you want. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."

Some of the
rigidity seeps out of him and he tenderly wipes away my tear. "Thank you,
Sunny."

"Let me go
in now, please. Ms. Walker doesn't like it when people are late."

He inhales
audibly and slowly, reluctantly, releases me at last. "Good luck," he
tells me. "But don't forget: whatever happens, I'm here for you."

And even as
scared as I am, I feel the corners of my lips tip up in a slight smile. I love
this boy so much it's almost more than I can bear sometimes. But then I
remember that somehow, incredibly, he loves me just as much—and everything is
all right with my world once again.

*
* *

Forty minutes
later, I'm walking away from Ms. Walker's table, drained and shell-shocked. I
go down the stairs, then across the first floor area and out the door.

Seth, who's been
pacing beside his car, sees me the moment I step out of the coffee shop. He
reaches me in three long strides, his arms going instantly around my waist. My
hands rise to his chest, above his beating heart. His eyes are dark and
anxious, and when he sees my face, he pales.

"Sunny,
what happened?"

I flash back to
the earlier conversation with Ms. Walker.

"I thought
this town agreed with you, Summer."

"It does,
ma'am." I cringe at how tremulous my voice sounds.

"Indeed it
does. Your eyes aren't red-rimmed, there's no sallow tinge to your complexion, and
that whitewashed look you used to have is nowhere in evidence. Why then are you
regarding me as if I'm a rampaging dragon about to demand you for a virgin
sacrifice and swallow you whole?"

Unfortunately,
just as she says those sarcastic words, I'm in the process of gulping down some
water to calm my nerves—and when I hear the word "virgin", of course
the water goes the wrong way and I start to wheeze and cough.

Ms. Walker
thumps me on the back, and when she perceives that I'm not really going to die,
she leans back in her chair and watches me with a crafty expression. I think
she even smiles slightly, then her face sobers completely.

"After you
were orphaned," she tells me, "over the course of six months, three
different families filed for your adoption, took you into their homes, and
quickly thereafter withdrew their adoption requests. Social Services was at a
loss what to do with you."

I swallow
nervously. Where is she going with this?

"At the age
of five-and-a-half years old, you were fostered to one Mrs. Adelaide Lewis. In
whose house you proceeded to live for five years and seven months with not a
single instance of turmoil being reported to Social Services. According to your
file, you were bright, healthy, well-adjusted. And best friends with Mrs.
Lewis' little grandson. Seth, I believe was his name, was it not?"

Her incisive
eyes drill into me, making note—I'm sure—of the minutest reaction I show. So
there's no earthly way she can miss the blush that colors my cheeks bright-red
at the mention of Seth's name. But she refrains from comment, just quirks an
eyebrow and continues her matter-of-fact recounting.

"Then Mrs.
Lewis passed away, and your foster care agency sent you up north. Until your
file found its way onto my desk, one year and a half later, you had been
through seven different foster placements. Followed by another ten, in the
ensuing three years and seven months."