Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,45
a magazine than meeting friends at a rugby game.
Amber watched him, bubbly with excitement. Aaron nodded to Buff—who nodded stiffly back—then gathered her in his arms. She was breathless immediately, drinking in his smell.
Tina and Buff averted their eyes and headed down to the field.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron whispered when they were gone, and she heard the pain in his voice. He was just as distraught over the previous night as she was.
And right then, as she looked up into his dark, sunset streaked eyes, feeling euphoric and implausibly safe now that he was here, Amber realized she was in love with him.
The wrong boy.
***
Aaron and Amber sat in the bleachers facing Pueblo’s rugby field. Deep purples and maroons smoldered out on the horizon, the remains of their last sunset as seventeen-year-olds. Gone. A gentle mist settled in its wake.
The crowd groaned as Dominic Brees flattened the fullback and scored. Without Buff Normandy, Pueblo was getting ground to pulp. But Aaron’s nerves were too occupied with Amber to care. His body felt rigid, his tendons strained like rubber bands about to snap. He couldn’t relax, not around her. Not when he had fifteen hours left before his appointment.
He caught Amber peering at him.
“You’re doing it too,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You’re risking everything for me. We both turn eighteen tomorrow.”
“Amber, it’s not a game of chicken,” he said. “You have your whole life—”
“My whole life?” Her lips formed a cruel, haunted smile. “Wait and see.”
A moment later the stadium roared with cheers. Fans screamed and leapt from their seats, but the two of them hardly budged. Their bodies stayed rigid, as if linked by a taut cord.
“You make me nervous,” he said.
“I know.” Amber’s eyes reflected the misty halos blazing from the stadium lights.
Down by the field, though, he saw the flash of a green windbreaker, Corona’s color. His gaze snapped to the bottom of the stands, and the skin burned behind his ears.
Clive Selavio was scanning the bleachers for open seats, and in that instant, his eyes locked on Aaron and Amber. His pale eyes narrowed in their sockets, and he barged through the first bench of fans and scurried up the stairs toward them.
***
As Clive approached, the glare of the quartz lights eroded his scarred face. He reached the end of the aisle and cut toward them, gripping an unopened can of beer.
Amber finally noticed him, and the color drained from her face. He would reach her first.
Aaron stood, crossed her lap, and blocked Clive’s path just as he reached her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said.
“You don’t mind if I slide in next to Amber, do you?” said Clive, drenching him with beer breath.
“The seat’s taken,” said Aaron.
“No, I believe it’s free.
“I’d be careful in that green jacket,” said Aaron.
Clive peered around at the red and white stadium and then held up his index finger, studying it. “Harper, all I have to do is touch the back of your skull, and a little more leaks out.”
“What are you talking about?” said Aaron.
“And how long would you guess before you’re empty?” He smirked. “My father can help you, you know.” With that, he shoved past Aaron and squeezed into the chair next to Amber. She gave Clive a quick, hateful stare and flattened herself against the far armrest.
Clive’s milky, lizard-like eyes surveyed the contours of her face as if she was prey. “Don’t I get a kiss?” he said.
Though her cheeks flushed, Amber continued to stare vaguely into the distance. Aaron rolled up his sleeves and prepared to extricate Clive from the seat. He motioned for Amber to scoot over and dropped into the seat between them, facing Clive. Their eyes burned into each other.
“Harper, how many times must I warn you—”
“What was that your dad said about you on Wednesday?” said Aaron, interrupting him. “The boy without a half?”
“If you’d actually stayed,” said Clive, “then you would have learned I got a new one.”
Aaron felt white-hot adrenaline prickle into his blood. He didn’t blink. Finally, Clive leaned around him and spoke to Amber again.
“Your father asked me to drive you home tonight. Apparently you’ve been sneaking off?”
Amber ignored him.
“Amber, I’m talking to you—”
Aaron yanked him back by his hood. “She doesn’t want to hear it,” he said.
Clive clamped his fingers around Aaron’s wrists and pried them off his jacket. “You need to learn when to keep your ugly nose out of other people’s business.”