Shut Out

Chapter four

"You really expected otherwise?" Chloe asked over the phone that night when I told her about Randy and the hazing. "Come on, Lissa. That rivalry has been going on for, like, ever. Promises or not, there's no way any of those boys are going to miss out on a chance to torture the soccer team."

"Someone got hurt, Chloe," I said bitterly. "Bad this time. And for no reason. There will never be a winner, so what's the point? There is none. The fighting is stupid."

"Maybe. But there's no use complaining about it. It's not like it'll ever end."

When I first became friends with Chloe Nelson last year, after Randy and I started dating, I wasn't sure what to think of her. I heard she'd slept with two-thirds of the boys on the football team. I'd thought she was kind of a slut at first — that's what everyone called her — but we became friends fast. Faster than I did with any of the other football girlfriends.

Don't get me wrong — the other girls seemed okay, but I hadn't entirely trusted any of them. Not with my secrets and not with my boyfriend.

But in a weird way, I'd known I could trust Chloe.

I also knew that she was right.

This stupid little war would never end on its own. But I had to do something. I just had to.

"I'm sorry for bitching," I told her. "It's just… It's getting out of hand, you know? It's too chaotic. Too out of control. And even before that kid got hurt, it was getting in the way of my relationship. I mean, he just forgets about me anytime the feud comes up. I hate it."

"Have you tried telling him that?" Chloe asked.

"Sort of…"

Chloe sighed. "Lissa."

"I know. You don't have to lecture me."

"Too bad. I'm going to anyway." She took a deep breath. "You need to tell Randy how shitty this whole thing makes you feel. I know you like to be Little Miss Ice Queen and stay cool and aloof and whatever, but he's your boyfriend. You need to relax for once in your life and just let him know that this hurts your feelings."

"I know, I know. It's just… It's hard. I want to, but I always seize up. I mean, we just got back together a few weeks ago."

"Maybe you two broke up because you weren't open enough with him."

That so wasn't why we broke up. But I would never tell anyone, not even Chloe, the real reason.

"God damn it, Lissa. You know, you are the only person who can make me sound like a fucking Hallmark card. Just talk to him, all right?"

"Fine."

"Good. He'll probably be nicer to you than I am, anyway."

"I like it when you're mean."

"Meow," Chloe said. "Oh, baby."

I laughed. She was really the only person who could get me this loosened up. If anyone else made the jokes she did, I would get so uncomfortable. Not with Chloe, though.

"I hate this, Chloe. Instead of it being just me and Randy, lately it's been me and Randy and the entire soccer team."

"Bow-chika-wow-wow. That sounds like a good thing to me."

"God, Chloe."

"Sorry. I couldn't resist." She giggled.

"You know what I mean, though, right? It's — "

Plink.

I frowned and stood up from my desk chair, carrying my cell phone with me to the window.

"Lissa, you there?"

"Yeah. Just a second, Chloe." I covered the receiver and leaned against the cool glass of the window, staring into the semidarkness below.

Plink, plink!

The pebbles hit the other side of the glass, right where my nose was pressed. I squinted, trying to make out the figure standing in the bushes by the edge of my house. The orange glow of the streetlamp fell across sandy hair and a blue T-shirt. Both

were unmistakable. Randy had about a million Hamilton Panthers shirts in his drawers. Football pride and all that.

I put the phone back to my ear. "Chloe, I have to go. Randy's outside. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Have fun," Chloe teased. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There isn't anything you wouldn't do."

"That's the point."

"Good night, Chloe."

After tossing the phone onto my bed, I flipped the latch and pushed the window open, careful to move the screen aside before leaning into the warm late-August air.

"You are such a cliché," I hissed down at Randy.

"Clichés work, though, don't they?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'm proving it."

"Proving what?"

"Friday night," Randy reminded me. "You told me to prove that you meant more to me than the rivalry. I'm here to prove it." He whipped out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and looked up at me with a hopeful gaze, the light from the lamppost glinting off his brown irises. "I'm sorry about today. I want to make it up to you. See?" He waved the bouquet a little, making sure I didn't miss it.

I couldn't help laughing at him. God, he could be so cute sometimes. A little pathetic, but mostly cute.

It was also cute how he shimmied up the drainpipe, trying desperately not to squish the flowers, and tumbled clumsily through my bedroom window.

He gave me a lopsided grin as I took the flowers from him and put them in a vase on my desk. When I looked again, Randy was lying on my bed. His eyes were on me, and his arms were folded beneath his head, showing off his toned biceps. I blushed and hoped he didn't notice me checking him out. His ego was big enough.

"Carnations," he said, raising both eyebrows and jerking his chin at them, all cocky. "You like pink carnations, so that's what I got. Proud?"

"Very," I admitted. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"I remember everything you tell me." He tapped a finger to his temple. "It's all right here."

"There ought to be plenty of room for it there. I mean, you don't have much else in that cavern you call a skull."

"Ha, ha, very funny." He rolled his eyes at me. "Maybe I choose not to study just so I have more room in my brain for Lissa Facts. Ever thought of that? I mean, knowing your favorite color and your lucky number is going to be way more useful to me than the periodic table or, you know, basic multiplication."

It surprised me he could actually think that it wasn't useful. "Actually, basic multiplication is really important for daily life. It — "

He groaned. "That was a joke, babe."

"Oh." I shifted nervously and played with my hair a little, feeling embarrassed. It was sweet of him to come over, but having him drop in on me like this had thrown me off. I took a deep breath and told myself to chill out a bit, to loosen up. "Well, thank you. For the flowers."

"You're welcome."

I could tell by his grin and the sparkle in his eyes that he wanted me to come over to the bed with him, but I didn't budge.

With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to me. One of his hands moved to my hip while the other stroked black locks of hair away from my face. I forced myself to be still, not to shrug away like I did sometimes. There was no reason to be so uptight around him. I closed my eyes, trying to enjoy his touch.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't have lied, but Shane and the others really rode my ass when I told them I wasn't going to do it. I couldn't get out of it without being humiliated. I really didn't mean for that kid to hurt his knee, though. Seriously."

"I know."

For a minute I wondered if he'd been hazed by soccer players as a freshman. Randy was too proud to tell me if he had, but it was possible. In that case, I couldn't really blame him for wanting some revenge of his own.

"So we're cool?" he asked, rubbing a thumb across my cheek.

"Hmm." I opened my eyes. "Maybe."

He smirked and leaned forward to kiss my lips, then my jaw, then my neck. I let out a little moan as his mouth traveled down my collarbone. My shoulders relaxed and my arms wrapped around him, my hands resting on his back.

"Are your dad and Logan still awake?" Randy whispered after his lips had traveled back up to my ear. "Will you get in trouble for having me up here?"

"No," I said. "It's Logan's birthday. They went on a gambling boat for the night."

Randy pulled back, a frown spreading across his full lips. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have walked through the front door instead of climbing up to your window."

I ducked my head. "Well, you're the one who wanted to prove you were sorry. I think climbing the drainpipe was the least you could do."

He looked a little pissed for a minute, but he got over it fast. "Okay, you're probably right," he said with a shrug and a tiny little smile. He leaned down and kissed me again.

We stood there in front of my desk, kissing for a while. Both of his hands were on my waist, and my fingers were twisted into his hair. After a few minutes, he pulled away so we could catch our breath.

"I love you," he said, touching the tip of his nose to mine.

"You, too."

He pressed his lips to mine again, kissing me for a long moment before easing back just slightly. "Babe," he whispered against my mouth, "do you want to…?"

My eyes opened, traveling momentarily to the bed before moving back to meet his gaze. He was waiting for me. Pleading with me. I kissed him again, relaxing against him, and pressed my hips a little closer to his.

The quiet moments were the best. When our heartbeats had just started to slow down and the only sound was our breathing. It was the most intimate feeling in the world, letting someone hold me like that. Those were the moments when I was reminded just how much we loved each other, when I could finally let myself

fully relax, when I thought that maybe Chloe was right and I could really open up to Randy about how I felt. Those were my favorite moments spent with him.

"Okay. I'd better get going."

Well, those moments were great when they lasted more than five seconds.

"What?"

Randy disentangled himself from me and kicked off the comforter that was spread over us. I watched as he climbed off my bed and moved to button his jeans.

"Where are you going?" I sat up and searched for my shirt in the sheets. Suddenly, I felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

"Shane wants me to meet up with him in the old Fifth Street parking lot. Some soccer idiots wanna start shit with us because of that freshman who hurt himself. I think it'll be a good fight."

"You're ditching me to go fight with soccer players?" I asked. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and turned to stare at him. "I thought you were trying to prove that I came first."

"I did," he said. "I came here first, didn't I? I could've gone straight to the fight, but I came to see my girl." He walked over to me and leaned down, kissing me on the cheek. "And we had a good time, right?"

"No, you had a good — "

"I'll call you later," he said. "I was here longer than I expected to be — not that I'm complaining, but Shane's waiting on me. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

He tried to kiss me again, but I jerked away.

Randy sighed and shook his head. "Don't be like this, Lissa," he said, and then he turned and walked out of my bedroom.

I started to go after him. I jumped out of bed, momentarily determined to give him a piece of my mind, but stopped in the doorway. I took a deep breath and forced it all back, forced myself to stay in control.

But a minute later — as the front door slammed downstairs and the sound of Randy walking toward his car on the street corner wafted up through my window — I knew this was the last time I would be left behind for this war. I had to do something about it. Put a stop to the stupidity. Get Randy out of this trap he was in. For him. For both of us.

And I knew just how to do it.