Collision Course(28)
Author: S.C. Stephens

I nodded and darted my eyes down to my mostly full cup. I busied myself with draining it, shutting my head off at the sight of my mom getting emotional over my well being. That sight would surely unhinge me today, and I didn’t need it right now. Right now, all I needed to do was focus on maintaining my inner peace. The rest would surely work out just fine.

I was practically inhaling the bottom of my cup when a honk at the door signaled Sawyer’s arrival. A true grin spread on my face as I looked over to the window and saw her checking out her appearance in the rear view mirror. I looked over at my mom to say goodbye and she was watching me with a small, crooked smile.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing." Her eyes flicked to the window and then back to me. "I’m just glad that there is someone out there who can make your face look like that again." Her eyes got momentarily wistful, and clouded over again with what could easily become tears.

I looked down and shrugged, not wanting to delve into Sawyer’s and my relationship. It was too complicated for me to think about on most days, I didn’t need her trying to analyze it too. "I better go, she’s waiting."

She stood and gave me a swift hug. "Of course, dear." She pulled back to look at me, her eyes slowly sweeping over my face, taking me in. "Have a good day, Lucas."

I gave her a half-hearted grin before picking my bag and jacket off the floor near the front door. "I’ll try," I said softly, as I slipped them both on. With one last hug to her, I opened the door and waved to Sawyer with a surely idiotic grin on my face. It had been a long time since I’d seen her in the morning.

Sawyer waved back at me and then my mom in the doorway as I opened her door to get inside. The all too familiar lemon scent washed over me and I was instantly calm. The familiarity of the fragrance eased my breath and my squeezed heart. I exhaled slowly and sank back into the seat as she pulled out of my drive. With one final glance at my mom’s retreating figure at our front door, I turned my head to face Sawyer.

"Hey," I said pleasantly, practically with a spring in my voice.

She looked over at me and grinned, her face beaming under that curtain of straight, dark hair. "Hey, yourself. You’re in a much better mood than I expected to find you in." She raised an eyebrow at that and then turned her attention back to the road.

I laughed and turned my attention to the road, to the threat of school looming before us. "Not really, I’m just glad to see you."

I felt her turn to look at me and met her gaze. "I’m glad to see you too. I’ve missed this."

My eyes softened as I looked at her while she turned back to the road, the early morning sun glinting off her freshly applied lip gloss and a strand of dark hair straying close to her eye, begging to be tucked behind her ear. She really was quite beautiful. "Really?" I whispered, without meaning to say anything.

She turned back at me, and her eyes softened as well as they looked over my face. Her eyes lingered on my lips and a strange feeling welled up in me before she suddenly broke the contact, and firmly fixed her eyes to the road ahead of us. "Well, yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn’t have anyone to complain over my music choices."

She gave me a sly grin before reaching down and turning up the volume on her indie, chick rock. I groaned dramatically and rolled my eyes, grateful that the odd feeling was leaving me and the familiar comforting peace was returning. We both chuckled as we listened to her man-hater music for the last few minutes before we reached my personal hell – Sheridan High.

She shut the car off, the music suddenly stopping mid ‘I’m better off alone’ sentence, and I felt a crushing dread close in on me. My chest squeezed as I looked out over the assortment of cars already on the lot. I noticed more than a few – Will’s, Randy’s, Brittany’s, and the battered pickup that Josh had been driving this year. Looking at the cars was like looking at a lineup of the people who would love to see me be run over by them. I tried not to care, but my chest started hurting and my breath started hitching. It was getting harder and harder to keep it even.

A warm hand touched my far cheek, carefully turning my head. I looked over to Sawyer’s calm face. "I’m here, Lucas. It will be okay." She nodded encouragingly and cupped my cheek with her hand.

I swallowed and held eye contact with her, feeling that serenity wash over me. I could do this. Just a few more months and I’d be gone. I could do this. My breath evened and the ache in my chest loosened. With one last long exhale, I nodded my readiness to her and opened the door.

We made it all the way to the main building doors with barely more than double takes from the student body. I was starting to feel calm and confident that everything would be fine, well, normal anyway, which was usually me being completely ignored, which was fine. I opened the heavy door and gallantly ushered Sawyer inside, her breath a visible puff as she laughed at me in the chilly air. I laughed with her and together, we walked through the doors like any pair of normal high school students.

But I wasn’t normal. I wasn’t really wanted around here. And as the heavy door slammed shut ominously behind me, I was reminded of that fact but a heated set of eyes.

"Oh good…you’re back. Enjoy your time off?" Josh leaned back against the row of lockers directly in front of the main doors and sneered at me, his arms crossed over his chest.

Anger swelled in me, as I thought back to what this little punk did to me two weeks ago – the embarrassment, the banishment, but mainly, the forced separation from my best friend. I didn’t give him a chance to say much else, as a low noise surprisingly came out of my chest and the words, ‘you son of a bitch!’ rested on the tip of my tongue.

But I didn’t get a chance to say it, as my hand was suddenly grabbed and pulled harshly away from my body, and I had little choice but to follow it. I started to pull away from the hand, to return to where a smirking Josh was slapping a friend of his across the chest and muttering something that made his small group laugh and point after Sawyer and me.

"Don’t, Lucas. He’s not worth it."

I turned my face and found my voice heated when the words finally did come out. "He drugged me, Sawyer. He deserves to get his ass kicked!" For a moment, I pictured Darren blowing his top and slamming his brother back against the lockers. Darren could be fiery when he got going and, while he’d never taken a swing at his brother, I knew he would have if the situation called for it. And this situation definitely called for it.

Sawyer continually tugged my hand, pulling me away from the fight I was all geared up for. "True, he does," she muttered sullenly. Stopping when we finally reached the stairs, she gently put a hand on my cheek. "But not in the middle of the hallway, around all these people. Not when you have one strike against you already. You don’t need the trouble, Luc."

I sniffed and my body started to shake with the desire to do…something, hit…something. It had been a long time since pure anger had coursed through me and for a moment, I let that heat rush through my veins and darken my countenance. "Maybe I want the trouble," I nearly growled. Josh had gone too far this time. Maybe getting expelled would be worth it.

Sawyer’s eyes widened, but she was interrupted by a voice behind her before she could say anything to that. "Is there a problem here?"

I looked over Sawyer’s shoulder to Coach Taylor standing behind her. I instantly straightened my stance at seeing the imposing man, who’d been an authority figure to me for a long time. "No, Coach," I automatically replied. The heat left me as I stared at him, and my voice lost its hard edge.

Coach had always been tough, but fair, on Darren and me and we’d grown to respect him. Darren used to always joke that Coach could be my long gone dad, since he really did look like an older version of me – a crew cut in the same brown as my scruffy head, the same hazel eyes, if a little more intense on him, the same chin, the same nose, the same overall build. I always laughed it off when Darren got into hysterics about it though. I may not actually know my…biological, but I knew the coach was not him. For one, I’ve seen pictures of my dad and he and Coach look nothing alike. Secondly, I really didn’t like to think about Coach getting it on with my mom. Ugh.

Coach sniffed and cocked his head as he looked at me and then down the hallway to where Josh and his friends were still laughing. "Let’s talk, West." He crossed his arms over his blue and white polo, the school’s colors, and narrowed his eyes at me. The look in them did not invite questioning.

"I have to get to class…" I shrugged lamely and nodded my head in the direction of the stairs. Sawyer beside me shifted uncomfortably, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should stay by my side or leave me alone with the coach.

He sniffed again and twisted his lips, the look on his hard face displeased that I had decided to question him anyway. "That wasn’t a request."

I looked down and nodded before giving Sawyer a ‘sorry’ face, and telling her I’d meet her in English. She nodded back at me and then quickly glanced over the intimidating man beside me, before hurrying up the stairs. I watched her leave for a second, turning the corner and being followed by what seemed like a squadron of kids, and then I sighed softly and twisted to face the coach.

He immediately started in on the speech he’d probably prepared for me on day one. "I’ve invested a lot of time in you, West, and this is how you repay me?" His arms crossed on his chest moved to his h*ps and his face took on a stern look, all sharp angles and hard edges, not looking much like me at all anymore. "You ditch the team your senior year, not even bothering to show up for tryouts this summer, or even telling me you weren’t going to." He pointed irritably down the hall where a few students were watching us converse, or rather, watching the coach converse at me. "You left me stuck with McKinney as your replacement for God’s sake."

"Will’s good…" I tried meekly.

His eyes narrowed as his voice got even sterner. "Will’s got good feet, but his hands are crap. He’s more awkward with the ball than a freshman trying to unhook his first bra. We needed you this year."

I looked away from him. "Things came up…"

He snorted irritably and I looked back. "Yeah, I know all about what came up." His hard eyes took on a disapproving look. "Getting hammered with your friends, getting behind the wheel when you shouldn’t have, getting them killed…"

His face surprisingly softened in a way I’d never seen before, and my throat closed up. God, I did not want to cry in front of this man. He put a hand on my shoulder in a rare show of compassion. "They will be missed…Darren especially." An odd half smile lightened his face and I blinked at seeing it; Coach didn’t smile much, even if we won the game. "Now, he had great hands. I’d of made him quarterback, if he wasn’t such a great running back."

As his words died between us, and his momentary softness over the deceased students passed, his eyes and face hardened right back up. I swallowed and tried to focus on what he was saying, and not how he was making me feel. Besides the pang of my friends being mentioned, no teacher had yet to outright call me a drunk like that, and my stomach was twisting painfully. Coach never was one to mince words though. He removed his hand from my shoulder and stuck both hands on his h*ps again. "I would’ve taken you back, even with all that. I would have drug tested the hell out of you, and probably kept you on the bench more than usual, but I’d of taken you back. I’d of gotten you sober and gotten you back out on that field."