It's My Life - Stacie Ramey Page 0,70
man, we need everyone.”
“Just a minute,” Julian says. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He bends down on one knee to talk to me. “I want to talk about tonight, but this isn’t the place.” His voice is all sharpness and rough edges, not the Julian voice I know. The grittiness gets to me and makes me nod.
“I get that. I’m sorry. We had to get her back.” My eyes shoot to Rena, who is arguing with Chip again. It’s so weird to see them together like that. How long has that been going on? “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Julian’s voice softens. “Please, I’m not mad. Just take Rena home.”
Behind him, two of Danbury’s players push one of ours. Julian’s face tightens. I can see he needs to go, and I’m torn between wanting him to come with me and knowing he can’t.
“Rena,” I call in my big-sister voice. “Rena, we need to go. Now.”
She shoots me a look filled with misery.
“Now.”
Chip takes her hand. “Let’s go,” he says.
With Chip and Julian as our escorts out of the chaos, we are finally, finally heading toward the car. The wind cuts right through me. My teeth start to chatter.
“We gotta get you home,” Julian urges.
“What’s the matter, Van Beck?” a guy calls from behind us. “A little girl trouble?”
Another guy says, “Ooooh.”
Julian ignores all of it and keeps walking next to me.
“What? You can’t hear me now? So you’re handicapped, too?”
The lights in the parking lot give enough illumination that I can see Julian’s jaw clench. His fists tighten. I will Julian to stay calm, but his head whips around. “What’s your problem, Anderson?”
Chip’s meaty paw goes on Julian’s shoulder. “He’s just trying to get in your head.”
Anderson jogs to get in front of us. “Leaving so soon?”
Julian’s eyes stay on the ground. He stands in front of my chair, like a shield.
“Look, you crashed our dance, we crashed your field. We’re even,” Chip says.
Rena’s eyes don’t leave him the entire time he’s talking. I squeeze her hand. Her breath fogs in front of her. I see her shiver, and I know it’s not just from the cold.
One of Anderson’s teammates catches up to us and throws his arm around him. “Let’s call it. No harm. No foul.”
Anderson spins. “We’re going to let these guys get away with this?”
His teammate says, “We’ll pay it back on the ice.”
“We’re going.” Dave whips his finger around in the air to tell everyone to get moving. The Danbury players go back toward the field. The one with his arm around Anderson lugs him back toward the other players.
For a tiny second I believe this is all going to be all right. The guys were mad. They came here and retaliated. All is equal. All is cool.
I let go of the huge breath that was trapped inside my chest. We are almost all the way to the parking lot when I hear Anderson call. “Hey, Van Beck? You think you’re better than I am?”
Julian keeps walking.
“I’m going to kick your ass next time we match up,” Anderson screams.
“You do that,” Julian shouts without turning around.
The car is about twenty feet away now. I push hard on the joystick that moves me forward as if my weakened electric wheelchair can outrun the trouble that’s coming for us.
Anderson yells, “At least I’m not dating a crip.”
Julian stops. I want to beg him to keep moving. To ignore the stupid comment. He’s standing next to me. His breath is coming out heavy now. He looks at me, but it’s like he’s not seeing me. “Let’s get you settled, Jenna,” he says.
And I breathe again and inside that breath is this small light of hope. I stare at the stars in the sky and speak to God. I don’t do this very often, but I need His help now. Please, God, please. Don’t let Julian be hurt. Let us be okay.
We get to the car. Ben pops the trunk. I hop out of my chair, and Julian lowers me into the seat.
“Crap,” Chip says. And I can tell he’s having trouble folding my chair.
Tears run down my face. I shiver. This is going to turn bad. I know this. I’ve watched enough movies to know this. I’ve read enough books. I know this. I. Know. This.
Rena gets out of the car to help Chip. “It goes like this.”
Please God. Please. I’d give anything, anything if this could be okay. I’d give up being one of the thirty-six saints. I’d