Disclaimer: The following is a prequel to Choices The Freshman and The Sophomore stories. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Jo, Kyle or Nicole. All of the characters, story line and events were originally developed by me, some areas in part with @maxattack-powell, in conjuction to her adaptation of The Freshman.
Chapter 18: Funny Valentine
The house is quiet other than the sounds of Chris rummaging through the closet in the hall. Morgan spreads out sheets of newspaper he provided across the Powell’s kitchen table.
She is focused on the task at hand. The presentation for their project is in two weeks and they need to finalize the details for both their costumes. They have worked and researched ancient Roman and Egyptian history both together and independently, but the inevitable moment they knew they would have to share a space together outside of class has arrived.
Chris made sure to schedule their meeting for a time when Kyle and Jo would not be hovering around. Jo was playing in a community basketball league and had practice after school. The parents of one of her teammates saw to her getting to practice and would bring her home after a stop for pizza. Kyle was at a friend’s house until Mrs. Powell could stop to pick him up, all at Chris’s request. He loved his siblings but as of recent they had started to work on his nerves. Jo was becoming more mouthy the older she got and Kyle had begun to defy almost everything Chris said to him, telling him repeatedly he was his brother not his dad. Chris was trying to be patient with them both, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
With Morgan stopping by, he knew Jo in particular would not let them work in peace. He had explained to his mom one day at dinner that he and Morgan were working on the elaborate English Literature project that was taking up a good bit of the time he gave himself to do homework, when Jo threw her voice into the conversation.
“Morgan’s really pretty,” Jo said that night at the dinner table.
Chris paused and looked at her. Slowly he agreed with a shrug, “Yeah, she is.”
“She’s really nice too. Not like Nicole,” Jo scrunched her nose. “I never really liked Nicole anyway.”
Chris said nothing but dug into the baked potato he was eating, chewing silently before continuing the topic with his mom.
“So, yeah, I’m supposed to dress like Antony and Morgan will be Cleopatra and we have to stand in front of the class and talk about their relationship, the foods they ate and a bunch of other stuff. Mrs. McWhorter may have lost her mind a little bit with this one,” Chris smiled.
Mrs. Powell laughed. “Sounds very detailed but, I don’t know, sounds fun to me. I’d be happy to help with the costumes. I haven’t used my sewing machine since Halloween,” she smiled.
“Really? Thanks Mah! That would be a big help. I’ll let Morgan know,” he nodded.
“So is Morgan your new girlfriend?” Jo asked as she poured herself another cup of Kool-aide.
“What?” Chris frowned, his head jerking in a big movement at the question. “What would make you think that?”
“Cause she’s pretty and nice and duh,” Jo rolled her eyes.
Mrs. Powell eyed Chris with a smirk. Ever since the Christmas holiday when he had entered the boutique and purchased the snow globe, she had known there was some level of a relationship with some Cherryfield girl but she was never sure who. It made perfect sense now that it was Morgan. When she showed up at their house briefly after Chris’s breakup with Nicole, Mrs. Powell had been curious about the nature of their friendship then as well.
“Morgan’s not my girlfriend,” Chris shook his head. “She’s…” he trailed off. He wanted to tell them all she was just a friend. Given the iciness that lingered between them and the way he had hurt her, he couldn’t even say that now. “She’s my project partner.”
“Micah said he thought you were her boyfriend,” Kyle said, lifting his head up from his plate where he had been shoveling meatloaf into his mouth like it was going out of style.
“Well, I’m not,” Chris sighed feeling irritated. “Can we stop talking about this now?” He said throwing a glare at his little brother and sister.
Mrs. Powell intervened, asking each of her younger children about the work they were doing at school and the subject was dropped.
Chris locates the hot glue gun in the closet and a few sticks of glue in a bin and pulls them out. He grabs a can of gold spray paint his mother had used for Christmas ornaments the kids made a few years ago and closing the door, takes the bounty he has found with him to the kitchen.
“Sorry, took me a minute. Buried under all that gift wrapping paper and left over cloth my mom had,” Chris says putting the items down on top of the newspaper Morgan has laid out.
“No problem,” She says toying with the edge of her shirt sleeve. Morgan was apprehensive about the impending afternoon activity all throughout the school day. While she is grateful they will have time to work uninterrupted, she is also anxious about being alone in the house with Chris. After mentioning his brother and sister would not be there, they agreed his home was the best place to work. Micah idolized Chris and there was no chance Morgan was going to be able to scare him off from lingering around the quarterback as they tried to make progress on their work. Chris’s house seemed the better option for the sake of privacy, but that privacy also worried her. She reminded herself that Chris had been diligent in his work and had only brought up their night together once, respecting her choice not to discuss it any further. He had conceded to her wishes of letting it go but he was still hoping to clear the air with her.
“Do you want to go get some leaves from outside now?” Morgan asks.
“Yeah, I can pull some from the hedges out front, but I can do that Morgan, it’s freezing outside,” Chris nods.
“It’s cool, I can help. Besides it will go faster if we both do,” She grabs her coat and slides it on, following Chris as he walks through the living room and opens the front door. He holds it open for her but she looks down at her feet as she passes him. They move out into the yard and head to the holly bushes surrounding the house. Chris is in just his hoodie and jeans but seems unbothered by the cold. Morgan reaches out and begins to pluck a few of the green leaves from the bushes, putting them in her coat pocket as she gathers them. Chris does the same, sliding them into the front pocket of his hoodie. He glances over at Morgan, seeing her breath fog in the cold. She appears to concentrate only on what she is doing, not his presence beside her. As they continue to work, he periodically watches her, noting her focus is directly in front of her.
“I think we probably have enough,” he says after a few more minutes.
“Yeah, me too,” Morgan says. She doesn’t wait for him but turns and heads back up the front porch steps and into the house. She empties her pockets, putting the leaves on the kitchen table. Chris closes the front door, locking it back and enters the kitchen. Morgan removes her coat and hangs it back over a chair. She coughs into her hands briefly.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just so cold out,” she says hugging herself.
“I can turn up the heater if you want?”
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine in a minute. ”
“Really Morgan, it’s no big deal I will if you are still cold. I want you to be comfortable,” he says and looks at her.
She lifts her eyes from the table and looks directly back into his. Her back straightens as she understands this is not just about the room temperature.
“It’s…it’s alright, Chris,” she nods slowly.
“Okay, good….” He says in a hush. He continues to stare at her and then takes a deep breath, clearing his throat as he moves his gaze away from her. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out the leaves, adding them to the pile she made with hers.
“That should be plenty,” he says.
“I think so,” she nods. “Oh! I brought this old headband for the laurel wreath. We can glue the leaves to it and it should be okay. I thought that would work better than wire,” Morgan says. She walks over to the kitchen counter and opens her backpack, reaching in and pulling out a thin, plastic black headband.
“Are you sure you aren’t going to use it again?” Chris asks as she holds it up for him to see.
“Uh, I’m sure,” she laughs a little. Chris looks at her curiously with a raised eyebrow in response to her laugh. “It was um, a One Direction headband. It had their picture on this big bow that was on it. I took it off before I got here.”
Chris laughs and smiles. “So again I ask, are you sure you want to use it? I mean, if you ever want to wear it again, I’d hate to mess it up.”
“Believe me, I’m sure,” She shakes her head laughing again.
“One Direction, huh?” Chris teases.
“I was nine!” Morgan exclaims and then groans, causing Chris to laugh louder.
“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone about it. Just…answer me this. Did you ever write Morgan Styles down on paper?”
“I’m not saying I did, but I’m also not saying I didn’t either,” Morgan says and covers her face. She laughs as she blushes a bit.
Chris chuckles as Morgan slowly lowers her hands away from her face, her cheeks red. His smile widens.
“Okay, okay, so instead of discussing my embarrassing childhood One Direction addiction, let’s work,” she says waving her hand in the air as if brushing the mortifying conversation away. “I’ve got to see if this fits too, it might be too small,” she eyes the headband. “If it sits a little inside your hair, that’s the look we need to go for though.”
“Yeah, from the pictures it wasn’t all the way around the head, just the crown,” Chris nods.
He pulls out a chair from the table and takes a seat. “Let’s try it.”
Morgan turns and faces him and then stutter-steps. “Um….” She says out loud without realizing. She takes a deep breath and looks at Chris who suddenly feels the awkwardness of the situation as well. Even seated, Chris’s tall, muscular frame manages to dwarf Morgan. Morgan takes a timid step towards him. His long legs part as she steps in between them, drawing closer to him. She lifts nervous hands, holding the headband up over his head.
From his seat, Chris looks up into her face. He is not aware that he is holding his breath. Her eyes don’t meet his, instead, she focuses intently on the object in her hands. He lowers his eyes, trying to find somewhere else to look. As he does, he realizes the proximity of her body to his. His eyes drift down from her face to her neck. For a moment he remembers placing kisses there and the memory brings the sounds of her soft moans back to his ears. He shifts a little in the seat, trying to look somewhere else but his view of anything else in the room is obstructed by all things Morgan. He notes the form fitting black sweater she is wearing. Her small, humble breasts are barely bumps underneath the stretchy material. Her long legs are in tight jeans and knee high black boots. As she leans closer, Chris quickly averts his eyes away from her nearing bust line.
He folds his hands in his lap and blows out a breath, looking down at them. He shifts again in his seat, his thigh bumping into Morgan’s leg as he does.
“Sorry,” he says quickly.
She doesn’t reply. She slides the headband onto the top of his head, letting it sink into his hair. She moves pieces of his soft brown locks out of the way as she adjusts it. Morgan notices his hair has become darker again since he is no longer outside for football. She fixes the headband so that the teeth underneath grip his hair and not his scalp. The feel of his hair is so delicate in her fingers.
As he continues to look down at his hands, Chris reminds himself to breath. He inhales and when he does, the scent of Morgan’s perfume tickles his nostrils. He does not know the name of the fragrance, but he knows whenever he smells it, his mind is flooded with thoughts of Morgan. He associates the light floral scent with her. In class, he would catch the sweet smell. It was so perfectly Morgan he thought.
“Is that too tight or does it hurt your head?” she asks looking down at him. When his blue eyes lift up to meet hers, she gulps.
“Not at all. It’s….perfect,” he says staring into her face.
Morgan freezes as he holds her gaze. Her eyes examine the details of his face. His long lashes, the slope of his nose, the pout of his plump lips. This is Chris Powell. The Chris she fell for at first sight on the first day of school 13 years ago. She lets out a shaky breath and Chris both hears and sees it. He watches her lips part, her jaw trembling ever so slightly before it clinches tightly again.
He was the only boy she had ever truly had feelings for until things began to change for all of them in the last few months. Suddenly, Chris was no longer with Nicole, Nicole was no longer her best friend and Ryan had bulldozed his way into her life, taking on a larger role as her friend and something else she still could not describe. Her feelings for Chris had changed but never vanished. Not until that night. The night when everything she hoped for and everything she feared came together in an instant. He had hurt her. He had broken her heart. She was trying to remind herself of that as she looks back into his eyes. She tries to tap into that pain she had felt and the anger that had followed it. He blinks slowly and licks his lips as he stares at her, neither of them moving. She watches his tongue peak out over his lips, brushing over them almost in slow motion. Her eyes lift back to his. He hurt you Morgan, she says internally. He hurt you and he took advantage of you, she silently chants to herself.
There is a moment when a choice can be made that affects the rest of your life. As Chris Powell peers back into the face of Morgan Price, just inches from his own, he feels a strange tug, like an invisible magnet. He does not understand it. He watches as her eyes narrow slightly and he knows she is mentally wrestling with something just as he is in that moment.
She is kind, sweet, caring and beautiful and he understands he was a fool to not see it. He was blinded by what he thought was love with someone who did not truly love him back. Chris reflects on Ethan’s words. Morgan has liked him since kindergarten. How does someone harbor feelings that long for it to not turn into love? How did Chris never see that in those moments she took care of him, bandaging his arm when it was injured or checking on him after the breakup, how did he not see then that it was love that was leading her to do it?
He knows things have changed between them and he knows her image of him has changed as well. He understands what he did and he can never truly tell her the extent of the remorse he still feels.
But, if she was willing, he could make things right. He could correct all of this, here in this moment.
Morgan’s hands ball into tiny fists as he studies her, as if she is bracing herself for something she feels brewing.
The gray of her eyes are beautiful in a way that he had never truly noticed. Under the kitchen light hanging over head, they beam brighter it seems. He remembers the guys on the team talking about her once, saying she had the prettiest eyes in school. He had disputed it then saying that title went to Nicole. Ryan had been the most adamant that Morgan’s eyes were gorgeous. Yes, that was the word he used.
Then the realization is there: Ryan. Chris’s best friend that he had worked to repair a strained relationship with all because he had put his hands on the girl now standing before him in the most intimate of ways, never knowing his brother had always wanted to do the same.
Chris gulps and then slowly his hands lift from his lap, he reaches out, towards her hips, looking at her face. She bites her lip as her mind races.
He thinks of the last time he touched her; the feel of her body under his, the taste of her as he kissed her deeply. He thinks of the look on her face when heartache set in. He was unsure of what he felt and had acted hastily. He was unsure then and he is still unsure now. Even when he feels he could be more to her, he still is not sure. He knows in his heart, he would only cause her more pain if does not even know what it is he is feeling.
Chris makes a choice.
He lowers his hands back onto his thighs.
“This should be good then, right?” he says his voice hollow. He looks down at the floor.
“Yes,” Morgan nods. She feels something, a sinking sadness. She quickly takes the headband off his head and steps away from him, moving to the other side of the table.
“I’ll plug the glue gun in and we can start putting the leaves on it. Then we can spray it with the gold paint. Okay?” She clears her throat and runs her hands through her hair, turning her back to him as she grabs the glue gun.
“Okay….” He says softly.
***
The student council fundraiser this spring is a hit amongst Cherryfield High students. For just 25 cents, you can send a “valegram” to another student and have it delivered by Cupid.
Initially there were plans for only one cupid to deliver the messages on the special day, but due to the popularity of the fundraiser, a Cupid was now selected for each grade level. Doing the honors for the senior class is one Ryan Hawkins. Student council president Alicia Ritter had a thing for Ryan like a number of other girls. When she thought of who should play Cupid, Ryan was the first name that popped into her lovesick mind. He agreed knowing he could have fun with it and that it would get him out of class for most of the day.
“You know Cupid only wears a diaper,” Ryan said as he met with the student council reps in the library. They had divided up the valegrams into stacks and set them for delivery during fourth period, just before lunch began. “Maybe I should just wear the wings and my shorts?” Ryan asked Alicia.
“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” she said bluntly.
He went into the bathroom and slid on a pair of red basketball shorts and then put the wings over each of his shoulders. He decided to keep on his white sneakers. When he walked back into the library, he held his arms out. “How does it look?”
“Looks amazing….” Alicia said, her eyes dazed as they scanned over every bump and ripple in his arms, chests and stomach. “Uh…don’t forget the halo though!” She grabbed it off a table and walked over to Ryan, putting it on his head, her eyes on his abs the entire time.
“Thanks again for doing this Ryan,” she grinned lewdly at him.
“Anytime!” he saluted. He grabbed his delivery bag and the nerf bow and arrow, heading out of the library and up the hall, Alicia peeking around the corner as he walked away.
He visited a few classes and dropped off the pink folded notes before moving on to the next. He finds a small stack of three notes for one class and sees the name “Nicole Moore” scribbled on one. He checks the other three and makes an executive decision. He changes his route and heads further up the hall.
“Nope,” he says in disgust and tears the three valegrams in half, smiling at the satisfying sound. He glides up the hall, tossing them in the trash as he heads to Mrs. McWhorter’s room.
He raises a fist, rapping on the door.
“Cupid with a special Valentine’s Day delivery!” Ryan announces dramatically from the other side of the door.
He hears the steps of high-heels moving across the floor and the door swings open. Mrs. McWhorter blinks in surprise at the shirtless Ryan.
“Mr. Hawkins, come in,” she says.
All eyes are on the doorway as Ryan enters and smiles broadly. Chris sits up at his desk and shakes his head, laughing and letting out a loud groan at the sight of his friend.
Morgan begins to laugh as well.
“Mrs. McWhorter!” Ryan says way to loudly causing her to jump.
“Yes Ryan?” She questions exasperated.
“I have some special valegrams today for some special folks. First on the list is,” Ryan pulls out a sheet of paper from his bag and pretends to examine it hard. “Ah, yes. A Chris Powell.”
Ryan drops his bag to the floor and from the front of the classroom, raises the nerf bow and arrow. Before Chris can dodge it, trying in vain to turn away and block his body, Ryan hits him with a soft arrow right in the head. It bounces off of Chris and drops to the floor.
Ryan gives a sinister smile. “Actually Chris Powell, has several. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more arrows, shooting both of them in rapid succession at Chris.
Chris tries to duck behind Jeffrey Novak, using him as a human shield, but it is of little good with Ryan’s aim. Ryan picks up the bag and walks towards Chris, picking the arrows up off the floor. Chris glares at him, fighting off a smile.
“You have quite a few notes. Seems you are a popular guy with the girls of Cherryfield,” Ryan says to him.
“Ryan-“
“Uh, it’s Cupid, ‘kay buddy?” Ryan pats his shoulder condescendingly.
Chris closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. Ryan smiles brighter. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a stack of valegrams. He counts each one out as he puts it on Chris’s desk.
“Twenty-two…23…and wow 24!” Ryan says putting the last one down in front of Chris. “Someone on the nice list could be naughty if they wanted it seems!”
“That’s Christmas!” Chris exclaims.
“Dude, whatever,” Ryan says and walks back to the front of the class.
“Mrs. McWhorter!” he shouts again making her jump.
She huffs and steadies her patience. “Yes, Ryan?”
“There is another student in your class that is receiving some expressions of love on this Valentine’s Day!” Ryan announces. Reaching into the bag once more he pulls out his list again, frowning intensely as he skims the names.
His head pops up in dramatic fashion. “Morgan Price!” He announces.
He looks at her smiling sweetly. The bag drops to the floor along with the paper in his hand.
“Ryan! Ryan, no!” She shouts and throws her hands up in front of her face shielding it just before the arrow thunks against her palm.
She drops her hands and begins to laugh. Chris looks over at her smiling as Ryan walks towards her. He grabs the arrow, sliding it into his shorts pocket and puts the bow over his arm. He reaches into his delivery bag and pulls out five valegrams.
“Here you go Morgan,” he says and the overdramatic Cupid act is gone for a minute. He smiles down at her as she looks up at him, taking the valegrams in her hand. Chris peers at them from his seat, watching as Ryan winks at her.
Ryan leans over and whispers something to her no one else can hear. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he stands up and smiles over his shoulder at her as he walks away.
He is almost to the door when he turns and lets out a sudden “Mrs. McWhorter!” She flinches once more.
She glares at him and he smiles. “That’s all. I’m done. Have a good day,” he waves and walks out the door. Mrs. McWhorter shuts the door quickly behind him.
Morgan peaks over at Chris who is flipping through his stack of valegrams. Every single one is from a “Secret Admirer.” Morgan is not one of them however. She would rather have not acknowledged Valentine’s Day altogether. He glances over at her, wondering if any of them are in fact from her, even looking at the handwriting to see if anything is similar to hers.
Morgan grabs the valegram on the top of her meek stack and flips it open.
She reads through it and then looks up at the closed door, a slow smile coming to her lips as she does.
I used to flirt with you and you laughed it off. I told you, you were beautiful and you laughed then too. Maybe today you won’t laugh when I say that you are special and I hope you have a Happy Valentine’s Day, Morgan.
–Ryan
Chris looks over at the dreamy-eyed smile on her face and frowns slightly.
Ryan whistles as he moves up the hall, knowing by now Morgan has likely read the valegram of his he placed on top.
He heads to the science wing of the school and knocks on Mr. Vaden’s door. Mr. Vaden opens it and looks Ryan up and down, eyes wide behind his glasses.
“Valegram delivery sir!” Ryan announces.
“Oh yes, that,” Mr. Vaden says incredulous. “Come on in.”
He lets Ryan enter the classroom and seated at one of the lab tables Ethan raises his head. “What the….” He says at the sight of shirtless Ryan in wings and wearing a halo.
“Ethan Clark! Roses are red, violets are blue, who has some secret admirers, you do buddy, that’s who!” Ryan says proudly.
“Good god….” Ethan says his mouth falling open.
“You like that? I just came up with it,” Ryan says. He suddenly lifts the bow and arrow and Ethan glares at him as a soft arrow hits him square in the chest.
Ryan walks up to him with an innocent grin. He retrieves his arrow, Ethan folding his arms across his chest, shaking his head as he leans back and studies Ryan.
“Shirtless? Really? How many other Cupids are walking around school without their shirts on today?” Ethan asks.
“You’re in luck. I’m the only one,” he winks. He reaches in the bag and hands Ethan a stack of almost 15 valegrams.
“What are all these?”
“Letters of love you stud you!” Ryan shouts over his shoulder as he walks away. “Mr.Vaden, thank you sir and good day!” He waltzes out of the class.
He has another very special delivery to make. He takes a deep breath looking down into the now empty bag, save for one lonely valegram.
She has avoided him since the night of the state championship celebration three weeks prior. He text her once, just to check in and see if she would like to work on the bike but she did not respond. Ryan sat there looking at the “Read” notification for hours, hopeful she would reply, but nothing came. He has looked for Tay in the cafeteria at lunch and seen her only a handful of times. She would not make eye contact on any of those rare occasions. He hung around after basketball practice one day, seeing her car in the parking lot and hoping to catch her after tutorials, but it grew late and he finally threw in the towel and left after a half hour.
He knocks on the door to Mrs. Cross’s class and waits. Mrs. Cross opens the door and Ryan takes a deep breath.
“Special valegram delivery,” Ryan says to her.
“Oh how nice! What a treat for someone!” She says and steps out of the way. Ryan enters the room. He looks around and Tay’s head is down as she writes into a notebook. At the disruption in class she looks up and pauses at the sight of him. She glances all around her and scoots around in her seat. She looks away from him, but realizes his eyes are on her. His shirtless body makes her squirm.
“Valegram delivery,” Ryan says. He makes his way from the front of the room directly to Tay. She looks up as he stands beside her desk, then looks away from him. She feels her face color.
“Tay, this is for you,” he says. He lays the valegram down in front of her, giving her a tiny smile.
She slowly reaches out and takes the note in her hands. He nods and heads back towards the door, looking over his shoulder.
She opens the valegram and he disappears into the hallway. She looks down at the note and shudders slightly as she reads it. She puts a hand over her mouth as she takes deep breaths, feeling her heart skip a beat.
I miss starting my mornings with you. I miss the sound of your voice, even when you are put out with me. I miss your laugh, I miss our time together. I miss you, Tay.
What you want is what I want too. I’m ready when you are.
–Ryan
***
Morgan walks down the hallway carrying her books against her chest. She makes her way to her locker and spins in the combination before it springs free.
As she opens it, a piece of paper floats out and lands at her feet.
She bends down and picks it up, seeing her name written on the front of the folded sheet. She slides the books in her arms into her locker before opening the note.
As she reads it, her mouth falls open and she loses touch with all the happenings around her.
Dear Morgan,
There is a place where Angels play
Where the brightest stars twinkle even in the light of day
It is a place of beauty, joy and peace
A respite for the weary, calming for the angriest beasts
It is the place where dreams come true
Where a nameless boy shares his love with you
Many will say such a place does not exist
But believe me now Morgan when I tell you this
It is as real as the heavens above
I have felt from afar this deep, deep love
The feelings I have I have felt for a long while
That beautiful place is in you and in your smile
Morgan spins around, turning wildly as she looks about. She searches for any glimpse of someone watching her or looking in her direction. She sees a number of faces she recognizes but none of them are looking her way or even seem concerned with what she is doing.
She sighs and looks back down at the paper in her hand, her eyes watering slightly. She searches the hall once more and then holds the paper up against her chest. Baffled, she sighs, leaning her forehead against the locker next to hers, trying to regain her composure. A one word questions comes to her mind: Who?
***
Chris is at his locker putting his books up for the end of the day when a sudden whack against the side of his head causes him to flinch.
“What the hell!” he shouts and looks up.
Ryan is a few feet down the hall and the nerf bow and arrow is still raised and pointed in Chris’s direction. Ryan reaches into his pocket and grabs another arrow.
“Hey Romeo!” Ryan shouts.
“Oh shit!” Chris slams his locker shut and runs down the hall . Ryan is in hot pursuit laughing the entire way. Another arrow strikes Chris in the back of the head as he attempts to retreat.
Ryan keeps up the chase, bending down and scooping up both arrows as he races through the halls after Chris. They run into a few people, Chris helping to steady a freshman he almost knocks off his feet, but Ryan doesn’t let up.
Chris turns sharply around a corner, flipping over a trash can in the process. Crumpled papers fall out all over the hall and Chris sprints ahead. Ryan jumps over the trash can and takes aim, an arrow whizzing by Chris’s head.
“Dammit! Be still!” Ryan shouts after him.
“No! You quit!” Chris shouts back. He rounds a corner and Ryan runs slightly faster but skids to a stop, almost toppling over.
Chris is standing in front of the school’s principal Mr. Poole. He is breathing heavy and has his hands up and slightly extended as he had to stop himself from the falling over as well after a sudden stop. He narrowly missed crashing into their principal.
“Mr. Powell, Mr. Hawkins,” Principal Poole says scowling at them both.
“Shit,” Ryan says under his breath and Mr. Poole’s eyes snap to him.
“Well it seems since football season is over, you both would still like to run a few drills? Is the hallway the proper place to do so?” He folds his hands behind his back.
“Uh, no sir, I’m sorry,” Chris says. Ryan nods in agreement.
Principal Poole takes a step forward and looks around the corner, seeing the downed trashcan and its contents all over the hallway.
“I thought I heard a crash as well,” he says. He looks at Ryan who squirms a bit. “Mr. Hawkins is there any particular reason why you are not wearing a shirt?”
“Yeah, uh, I was Cupid today. Delivering valegrams, so…you know, no shirt. Part of the costume,” Ryan shrugs.
“Your costume still needs to follow the dress code,” Principal Poole says.
Ryan sighs knowing what’s coming.
“First, you are both going to clean this hall up. Secondly, Mr. Hawkins you are going to put on a shirt and then third, you both will be in detention today after school at 3:45, is that understood?”
Chris glances over at Ryan, his friend giving him an apologetic look.
“Yes sir,” they say in unison.
***
“Man, I’m sorry,” Ryan repeats in a whisper as he and Chris sit in detention.
“It’s cool, don’t worry,” Chris says. He pulls out some of his notes on ancient Rome and begins to jot down some more ideas for Antony’s favorite meal.
“I’m so bored. Can you die of boredom?” Ryan asks.
At the front of the class, the physical education teacher Mrs. Lind looks at them. “Shhh, quiet,” she snaps.
Ryan sighs and tilts his head back in his seat, staring at the ceiling. Chris continues to work on his assignment. Ryan closes his eyes, slouching down in his chair.
“Ryan Hawkins!” Mrs. Lind’s voice booms from the front of the class. He jerks and sits up straight.
“Ma’am?” He replies open mouthed.
“You either do class work or read. This is not naptime, it’s detention!”
“For fuck’s sake,” Ryan mutters under his breath. Chris stifles a laugh. “Yes ma’am,” Ryan says and smiles at her.
Chris hides his mouth behind his hand to keep from laughing.
The minutes tick by at a painfully slow pace before finally the two are dismissed.
Chris and Ryan walk out to their vehicles in the school parking lot.
“Thanks for getting me in trouble you ass,” Chris teases.
“I said I was sorry!” Ryan throws his hands up.
“Yeah well, I owed you I suppose,” Chris nods.
Ryan laughs a little. “I’ll holler at you later.”
“Alright then man, see you,” Chris says hopping in his jeep.
Ryan is about to crank up and pull away when he looks up and sees Tay walking to her car.
He pulls his keys from the ignition and instantly hops out of his Bronco.
“Tay!” He calls after her. She turns around startled by the sound of his voice. She watches him move closer to her and her pace to her car quickens.
“Hey! Wait!” He yells and jogs towards her. She is about to open her car door when he pushes on it and shuts it back. “Wait!” he stresses again.
She looks away from him and shoves her hands into her coat pockets.
“So is this what we are doing now? You avoiding me?”
“I can’t do this right now Ryan,” Tay says and looks out across the parking lot.
His shoulders drop and he closes his eyes. “Did you…at least read my valegram?”
“Yeah….” She says looking at the pavement. She drags her toe over a blade of grass growing up through a crack.
“And?” Ryan asks bending to look in her eyes.
“I don’t think we should keep hanging out. It’s…it’s not a good idea,” she says.
He blinks and looks at her stunned. Silently he steps back away from her car door. She opens it swiftly and climbs inside. She starts the motor and pulls away, leaving Ryan standing there, his tongue in his cheek, completely perplexed.
READ CHAPTER 19