The Reaping (The Fahllen #1)(13)
Author: M. Leighton

We parted company still smiling. I made my way to my locker, thinking about Leah and her incredible turn of luck. What I should have been thinking about was avoiding Stephen.

I was waist deep in my locker when I heard my name.

“Carson?” He said my name tentatively, not at all what I expected after what had happened. I didn’t know what I was expecting—maybe violence or an extreme verbal beat down—but this wasn’t it.

“Yeah?”

“Look,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I know I came on a little strong Monday and I’m sorry. I knew my friends were watching and…” he trailed off, as if that was explanation enough. And it was, though it was no excuse.

“I know. You had to make a good showing for them. Make sure everyone knew who was in control, how I’d be putty in your hands.”

“It’s not- I know—”

“Oh, no. I know exactly. Don’t even try to make excuses, Stephen. I thought you were a nice guy and I was wrong. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I don’t want you to think that, though.”

“What? That you were a nice guy?’

“No, that I’m not a nice guy. Look, you just- I don’t know.” He paused as if to collect his thoughts. I felt a little pang of guilt. “It just surprised me when I saw you. And then everyone was talking about you. I guess I got a little caught up in it, too. Don’t hate me.”

He looked sincere. He sounded sincere. But what did I know about guys, really? My experience was so limited it was virtually nil. What I did know, however, was that I had neither the energy nor the desire to hate anyone, including Stephen Fitchco. In fact, it was much easier to have a crush on him from afar. And, lucky for him, at the rate he was going, he could be back in my daydreams by the end of the week.

“Can I just start over, like it’s Monday all over again?”

With a sigh of resignation, I agreed. “Sure.”

“Cool,” he said, his trademark smile sliding into place. “So, Carson, how’re you feeling? Looks like you made a full recovery.”

He really was going back to Monday. “I’m fine, Stephen. Thanks for asking.”

We smiled at each other and I thought that would be the end of it, but he had more. “Hey, listen. There’s a party at the lake Friday night. Wanna come with me?”

Finally, an invitation to a lake party! I was speechless. At last, my dream was coming true. And yet, I wasn’t as thrilled as I thought I would be. Why wasn’t it a sweeter victory?

“Thanks for the offer, Stephen, but…” I was already shaking my head.

“Come on, Carson. Please let me make it up to you,” he said, putting on his most persuasive expression, which in my book was pretty persuasive.

What would be the harm? Plus, Leah was going and that would make it all the more fun. We could have a two-sided conversation for weeks.

I looked up at Stephen, his blue eyes sparkling happily, and I caved. “I’d love to,” I said, giving him my most winning smile.

He looked truly pleased. “Great. So I can pick you up at your house about seven. Is that cool?’

“That’s cool,” I agreed. I’d worry later about what Dad was going to say.

“Hey, how ‘bout I give you a ride home today? I owe you one after…well, you know.”

“Um, I walk home with Leah.”

“I can give her a ride, too.”

“Well,” I said, pausing to think, visions of red convertibles and carefree laughter dancing in my head. “Alright.”

“Awesome! We can walk out together after sixth.” And with that, he flashed me his gorgeous smile and walked away.

That set the tone for the rest of the day: everything was going to be alright. Life was looking up after all; there for a while I was a little concerned that it was taking a serious nose dive. I managed to pull Leah aside as we passed between classes to tell her that we’d be getting a ride home.

“From who?”

“Stephen Fitchco,” I said, trying to control my grin.

“Stephen Fitchco?”

“Stephen Fitchco,” I repeated.

I gave her a brief rundown of what had transpired, her smile spreading wider and wider. With a delighted squeal, Leah clapped her hands excitedly. “We’ll be at the same party!”

“I guess so,” I said, wondering how Leah had managed to hide this person all these months.

When finally she settled down, she went back to the ride home. “Well, much as I appreciate you not leaving me stranded at school, I have my own ride home.” The gleam in her eyes said it all.

“Ryan,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Ryan,” she confirmed.

The bell rang and Leah looked up at the clock. “Oh crap! I’ve got to go,” she said. Evidently her tardiness wasn’t concerning her too much, though. She was still grinning from ear to ear when she turned to leave.

Times they are a’changing, I thought as I watched her walk away. Even in her rush, Leah still had an uncharacteristic spring in her step. I couldn’t help but smile.

By the time sixth period rolled around, I was extremely nervous. After all, I’d waited a long time for a day such as this. I was determined to enjoy it, even though it didn’t feel like the heaven I’d once thought it would be. But from a dream fulfillment standpoint, it didn’t disappoint.

Just as I’d so often pictured it, Stephen escorted me to his car (not a red convertible, but that was all that was missing from the image) and gallantly opened the door for me. Once I was seated, he closed it, got in on his side and we took off in the direction of my house. He chatted about all manner of inane things during the short ride.

This time when we arrived at my mailbox, he pulled into the driveway. He even got out and came around to help me out. Wow! And then he walked me to the door. My mind was totally immersed in every detail of the experience. I was living the dream.

Stephen left me at the door with promises to see me tomorrow and a smile that said I’d have my first kiss before the weekend was over. I refused to dwell on why that kiss, coming from Stephen at least, no longer held the appeal it had a week ago.

I was still fully engaged in my fantasy when I heard the screen door creak its way open. Stephen had managed to transport me out of all my troubles for almost an entire day, but, if my father’s thunderous expression was any indication, he’d just delivered me right into the eye of a storm.