Jack is waiting in my car looking through my jumble of crap. "Who's AWOL Nation?"
"Jesus, Chaplin. Don't you get cable or internet where you live?" I sass.
"Yeah, smartass. But I prefer classic rock."
"I didn't take you for the Led Zeppelin type, Chaplin."
"I didn't take you for the T Swift type, Thomas." He pulls Emma's CD out of the glove compartment.
"I'm not. That's my sister's." I give him a sideways glance.
"Sure it is. Is this bottle of Pepto hers too?" He asks, smiling mischievously.
"You don't want to know."
He nods, grinning. "Do you mind driving? My truck's a damn disaster."
"No problem," I say. "Tell me where to go."
As we're rolling along the country road, I know he's studying me. I glance up into the rearview mirror and see someone else looking at me too. I get a chill. It happens sometimes when I think I see him. Like a cold shiver passing through me. All the hair on my arms stands up.
Where do I go?
I don't hear the words exactly, they pass through my mind. Sometimes over and over.
"You all right, Thomas?"
"Yeah. Yeah, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."
"You're a curiosity. A real puzzle."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Okay, for example, you drive around with a bag full of hair in your center console. Who does that?"
I stare straight ahead.
"I mean, that's your hair, I hope."
"Yes, Chaplin. It's mine, okay. I haven't gotten around to mailing it yet."
"I'm not even going to ask—"
"Probably for the best." I cut him off, not wanting to talk about it.
"Seriously, though. The only information I have on you is that you like football and buzz cuts. You have a little sister who's a cheerleader. You moved here from Woodland Heights, where the fancy people live. Oh, and you're quick as lightning."
"That's about all there is to me."
"Riiiight," he says, shaking his head.
"This seems a little unbalanced. You know much more about me than I do about you. It's your turn," I counter.
He laughs. "Let's see. Lived here my whole life. Been playing tackle football since I was five. Probably I got a whole lot of brain damage to show for it, too."
"Brothers? Sisters?"
"Yes ma'am. Four older brothers."
"Wow. Your poor mom."
He laughs again. "Nah, she's tougher than all of us put together. She grew up on a cattle ranch with six brothers. She can fend for herself. Just like someone else I know, Thomas."
"Where is the herd of brothers now?"
"John, the oldest, works in oil and gas in Houston. He's got a couple little girls--Ava is six and Charlotte is three. She's a pistol. Jake graduated from high school three years ago. Now he's at TCU. Plays football for the Horned Frogs. Jessie and Joe live here. They work for my dad."
"What does your dad do?" I don't know why curiosity about his life has suddenly seized me, but I find myself wondering about his family. His home. His childhood.
YOU ARE READING
RUNNING BACK
Teen FictionI have a lot of secrets. Trying out for my new school's football team disguised as a boy is only the beginning. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm developing a disturbing crush on a teammate. But that's not my worst secret. Nobody here knows I ha...
