Drinking Life (Keeper of the Water Book 1) (5 page)

“Look at his hair,” Tank chuckles from beneath his helmet. “It looks like a
second
girl wants to tryout.”

“You’re not exactly dressed for the occasion,” the coach says. “Have you ever played before?”

John twirls the stick in his hand, a move that he must have practiced countless times. But he shakes his head.

“Never,” he says.

The coach shrugs. “Whatever, you can join the second team then.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted.” John smiles and jogs toward me, his gaze playful yet intense. I have the strange feeling that I know him though I’ve never seen his face before. “Let’s kick some ass.”

For a moment, I’m short of breath. I can’t seem to speak and merely nod my head. I need to get my act together and quick. That becomes even more apparent when the whistle blows and I don’t notice that Tank charges me. The huge bully knocks me to the grass, the only way to take my attention away from John. Tank stands over me threateningly.

“That’s what you do to the
other
team,” he laughs.

Rage explodes within me and I start to pull myself up, determined to hurt him even if it means the coach will cut me from the team on the spot. But I barely move a muscle when I hear a
thud
and Tank crashes to the ground beside me.

“Where I come from, we treat ladies with respect,” John tells Tank. He speaks with the utmost calmness despite how much adrenaline must pump through him. John turns to me and offers his hand. “Are you okay?”

I take his hand. Though we both wear thick lacrosse gloves, I can feel sparks on the tips of my fingers. He gently yet firmly pulls me to my feet, staring into my eyes the entire time. He’s a few inches taller than me and isn’t nearly as bulky as the rest of the jocks. But I can feel that he’s strong without even looking at Tank writhe on the ground. I almost forget that he asked me a question.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, wondering what happened to the strength and conviction in my voice. It takes me a second to realize I’m still clutching his hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Again he flashes me a smile. His teeth aren’t perfectly straight but they add character to his face. I could look at him all day but my peripheral vision spots movement rushing toward us. I should’ve realized sooner that there would be repercussions for his hit on Tank.

“Duck!” I tell him.

He listens without question and the lacrosse stick swung at him misses his head by inches. I’m about to jump in and fight the jock coming after him but John makes his own counterattack, using his stick to sweep the jock’s legs right out from under him. He moves so quick it’s almost a blur. Several more lacrosse players descend upon him but John gives no indication that he needs help. He moves with grace and agility that must’ve taken hours of practice. He swings his stick like a samurai sword, parrying attacks with ease, striking with pinpoint precision that puts the players down. But it’s not long before every real lacrosse player ignores the coach’s whistle and rushes at John.

I watch in amazement as he takes many of them down but the numbers soon overwhelm him. I lose sight of John amongst a sea of lacrosse helmets and swinging sticks. I finally jump in to help and shove several players out of the way before they realize I’m here, too. In seconds, John and I gain the upper hand and a pile of bullies knock each other over while trying to untangle their fallen bodies from each other. The whole time I hear every curse and threat in the book.

“You’re
both
gonna pay for this!” Tank’s voice screams the loudest though I can’t see him at the bottom of the pile.

My chances of ever being left alone in school are long gone but I don’t care. At this moment, the bullies understand what their victims have felt like for years. The rest of my misfit team stands well clear of the carnage but the smiles on their faces make my future hell well worth it.

Not to mention the connection I’ve just formed with John.

The coach is red-faced and out of breath by the time he reaches the battle scene. He probably hasn’t run this much in decades. He glares at me and John—of course it’s
our
fault—but can’t properly yell until he sucks enough air.

“You two need to…” he begins, wheezing loudly before finishing. “…get the hell off my field!”

John removes his helmet, shrugs off the gloves and drops the stick at the coach’s feet. He turns to me, bows slightly and sweeps his arm in a grand gesture for me to go.

“Ladies first,” he says politely.

I drop my own equipment and nod. The two of us walk away.

“Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure,” he says before catching up with me. “Well, that was fun. I’m sorry if I ruined your chance to make the team.”

All day during school, I thought how disappointed I’d be if I didn’t make the team. But now I just shrug it off. I never would’ve been happy playing for that coach or alongside the jocks.

“That’s okay,” I say. “Even if I scored twenty goals today, the coach would’ve found some reason to cut me.”

“Then he is a bigger fool than I thought,” John says. “You are quite the athlete.”

He smiles down at me and I turn away, suddenly realizing how much I’m sweating, how crazy my hair must be after wearing a helmet for the last hour. This is the first moment in my entire life I wish I were dressed prim and proper like Cassie. I just hope I don’t smell bad enough for him to notice.

“You better never touch my boyfriend again, Godzilla,” Stacey hisses from the bleachers. She may have been tempted to fight me on the spot if she hadn’t just witnessed what I’m capable of. She was surrounded by ten of her friends—including Cassie—but none of those prisses would have her back if things got physical. Heather is the only other girl brave enough to say anything.

“Not smart, Big Foot,” the blonde says, flashing me her dirtiest look. “Not smart at all.”

“And don’t think you’re getting off this easy, Fabio,” Stacey yells at John. “You’re going to wish you never came to this school!”

I look to John for his reaction but he only smiles at the girls, gives them a playful wink. I laugh at the sight of Stacey further enraged but notice the way most of her friends stare at John. It’s the same look I must’ve had on my face the first time he smiled at me, too. I can’t ever remember feeling this jealous though I’m relieved when John doesn’t give them a second glance.

“You said I was quite athletic,” I say, his words finally registering. “How do you know that?”

His smile fades. My question seems to crack his armor more than a team of jocks attacking him. I wonder how he knows about my athleticism though I suddenly regret asking. I don’t want to say
anything
that might make him uncomfortable and not want to be around me. I need to stop being paranoid about what happened during my last field hockey game. I’m glad when his grin soon returns.

“Could someone
not
athletic beat up an entire lacrosse team?” he asks.

“I guess not but I didn’t beat them up all by myself,” I say. “Thanks for helping me back there. I just hope that won’t make things too rough for you in a new school.”

He shrugs. “I must make my mark one way or another.”

“Some of these people around here can make your life at school pretty annoying,” I warn.

John chuckles. “Do I look concerned? I’ve never had trouble dealing with
matons
before and I doubt I will now.”

“
Matons
?” I ask. I don’t know what it means but I love the way it rolls out of his mouth, his accent more pronounced. It sounds Spanish but the only foreign language class I’ve taken is French.

“Bullies,” a voice says behind us. We spin around to see that Cassie has caught up with us. Normally I feel a big sister desire to keep her close by and protected but that urge has never struck me less than at this moment. I’m sure it has something to do with how beautiful she looks right now. “Bullies usually beat up people weaker than them and that certain didn’t look like the case out there. I doubt
you
have ever been bullied.”

“That was no way for any man to act toward a woman,” John says. “Those
matons
just didn’t realize they were messing with the wrong girl.”

John winks at me and something inside me melts. But once Cassie flashes her radiant smile and gives a girlish giggle that turns John’s attention to her, my heart hardens once again. I can always recognize when Cassie is acting fake and it annoys me now more than ever.

Heather, Stacey and the rest of the popular girls walk by and one of them takes Cassie by the arm, leading her away from us.

“If you’re going to hang out with us, Cass, you have to stop associating with
losers
,” Heather says.

Little do my enemies realize that dragging Cassie away right now is exactly what I want, though a part of me feels guilty for this. Cassie has been waiting months to gain those girls’ acceptance but looks back at us—or should I say
John
—and obviously regrets it. She’s not the only one who steals glances back at him—even Heather can’t resist stealing a peek. They pile into two of the nicest cars in the parking lot and speed off.

“That girl Cassie, she is your friend? Yes?” John asks. As much as I like hearing him talk, I
don’t
like the way he says Cassie, nor do I like the way he stares at the car she’s in until it turns out of the lot and peels away.

“Yes… well, no… our parents work together so I’ve known her my entire life,” I tell him.

“Your
entire
life?” he asks. “Hmmm…”

I don’t know what to say and feel foolish that the silence between us lingers. I suddenly feel bad for all the boys who’ve tried to talk to me only to end up tripping over their words. At least that’s
all
they ever tripped over. I don’t remember ever having a clumsy moment until I stumble over the curb leading to the parking lot. I try to play it off—and John pretends he didn’t notice—but he can’t stop himself from grinning. I’m mortified. The last thing I want to do is leave John right now but that’s the exact thing I do as I hurry toward my Jeep. It’s an old clunker and has a big sign on the side advertising my dad’s business; it’s not the coolest look but I can’t complain since it was free.

“I have to go to work now,” I blurt out.

“What is it that you do?” he asks.

“My parents and Cassie’s mother own an outdoor tourism business,” I say, gesturing to the sign. Their business has had so many different names over the years that I need to check the sign to remember. “Pocono Adventure Guides.”

John smiles again, a knowing grin that makes me wonder if he’s hiding something. “Of course, that makes perfect sense.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You are in very good shape,” he says. “This job must make you so athletic and strong.”

I wish I could say something cool in response to his compliment but my mind blanks out. The best I can manage is a blush and a goofy smile. I climb into the Jeep and fumble with my keys before finding the right one.

“It was very nice to meet you, Zannia,” he says. “Hopefully I will see you around school.”

“I hope so, too,” I say awkwardly.

I’d been so focused on John and getting into my Jeep that I didn’t even notice the motorcycle parked next to me. It’s not one of those big biker kind of motorcycles but the smaller kind that go dangerously fast. John grabs the black helmet from the back of the bike and jumps on. Within seconds, he revs the bike to life and zips away. I feel shell-shocked as I sit alone in the parking lot.

My heart still pounds in my chest as I drive home. It’s like the exciting part of a dream has ended and now I’m waiting to wake up. But this is no dream. I’m so preoccupied thinking about everything that just happened—and maybe I’m thinking about John, too—that I take the wrong turn for the first time in months. The Poconos is full of tiny streets and unmarked roads, many of which are also unpaved. There are big neighborhoods with small houses and small neighborhoods with big houses and normal-sized neighborhoods with houses that are big
and
small. I’ve never lived anywhere so easy to get totally lost by making just one wrong turn.

Cassie and I were late to school almost every day for the first few weeks until I learned my way around. I haven’t gotten lost since then until today. I push the thought of John to the back of my mind and soon find my way back on the right path. Technically I’m already late for work but it’s still a few hours until I need to do anything. On the side of an otherwise deserted forest road I spot a bigger version of the sign from my Jeep. I follow the sign’s big arrow and turn down the dirt road that quickly turns bumpy. I’ve tried telling my dad a hundred times to fix the potholes or have the road paved but he never listens.

“People come to us for an adventure and adventures are sometimes bumpy,” he always tells me.

The dirt road is narrow and winding for a few hundred yards. The first time I road down it I expected the road to disappear into the woods, as nothing else seems to be around. But it soon opens into a big clear wide a small house on each side of the road that abruptly dead ends. There’s also a trailer that acts as the base of operation for “Pocono Adventure Guides.” Behind the trailer is a detached garage that contains all of the outdoor equipment: rafts, canoes, tents, bows, arrows, targets—everything needed for a real outdoor adventure.

I park in front of the trailer and climb out of the Jeep. The sound of rushing water soothes me, makes me feel at home. But it also lulls me into deep thought; I don’t know how long I stand still and think of John but I’m snapped out of it when I hear
crackling
in the woods. I look around for the source of noise but see nothing—it’s probably a deer heading to the river for a drink. Most of my dad’s trips take place on the water so we always live near rivers. The Lehigh River is only a few hundred feet beyond the garage. The Lehigh is one of the biggest rivers in the Pocono Mountains. We live a stone’s throw from Hickory Run State Park, where most of our tourists come from.

I head into the small trailer where my mom is busy with paperwork. While Dad and Celeste handle the physically-demanding parts of the tours, nothing would be possible without the work Mom does. She answers phones and books tours and schedules classes and deals with getting the proper permits—everything needed to keep the business afloat. The trailer looks like a mess with stacks of papers lying everywhere but she has a system of her own and can find anything. Despite the beautiful sunny day outside, the trailer’s interior is dark and dank as always. I could never stand working in here for the hours Mom puts in but she feels the same way about the work Dad and Celeste do.

Mom looks up from her papers. “You’re alone?”

“For the moment,” I say. She turns back to her paperwork but suddenly looks up, as if something just registered in her mind. I realize what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth. I silence curse my own stupidity. For the second time today, thinking of John causes me to screw up. It’s not unusual for me to wear shorts and a tank top to work; it
is
unusual for my clothes to be so dirty. I totally meant to sneak home and change before reporting for duty.

“Is that dirt on your face?” Mom asks. “And grass stains on your clothes? How did that happen?”

I’m more than happy to keep things from my mother that would make her upset. But I’ve seen Cassie blatantly lie to Celeste too many times for me to do that to my own mother.

“I tried out for the lacrosse team after school,” I admit

“You did
what
?” she asks. “I don’t remember signing a permission slip.”

I shrug. “We didn’t need one.”

“How did it go?” an excited voice asks behind me. Celeste moves quiet as a ninja when she wants to.

“I thought we discussed sports being too dangerous,” my mother badgers. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“It wasn’t a field ball that attacked me, it was two soldiers,” I argue. My mother cringes. I’m surprised she mentioned the attack in the first place. I don’t think we’ve talked about it since moving here. “Besides, I missed the thrill of competition. I needed to feel that excitement.”

“So what happened?” Celeste asks.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t make the team,” I tell them. Obviously I leave out the part about John and the huge brawl.

Mom sighs in relief but Celeste pats me on the shoulder.

“I’m sure that with a little bit of practice, you could be really good,” she says. “Remember how quick you got awesome at field hockey?”

“We talked about this,” my mother tells Celeste. I notice a look pass between them and the bigger woman backs down.

Celeste looks around and glances outside. “Where is Cassie?”

“She got a ride home with some other girls,” I tell her. “I’m surprised she’s not here yet; they left school before I did.”

Celeste frowns and shakes her head. “I only want her traveling with you. I don’t know these other girls.”

Before she becomes too worried, we all hear the approaching sound of blaring pop music. One of the fancy cars bounces down the driveway and I start to follow Celeste outside until my mom stops me.

“Do you think you could stay and help me in here today?” she asks.

Luckily Celeste hears and calls back about the tour scheduled for later, about the class I have to teach. She mentions that Cassie is working today, too. Once Celeste is off to question Cassie, Mom waves me closer.

“I can’t stand being alone with Cassie,” she whispers. I always sensed Mom didn’t like her very much but this is the first time she’s said it aloud.

“Yeah, she’s been much tougher to deal with since we moved here,” I agree. “I think she’s having a harder time making the friends she wants so she’s crankier around us.”

“It’s not just her bad moods,” my mother says. She peeks outside to make sure Celeste and Cassie can’t overhear. Like usual, the mother and daughter are arguing as the nice car speeds away. “Just promise me you’ll be careful around Cassie. I’m afraid she’s… capable of doing anything.”

I feel like there’s something else she wants to tell me. “Like what?” I prod.

But the arguing becomes louder as Cassie walks away from her mother.

“Just be careful,” Mom says.

The way Cassie stomps into the trailer, you might think she is much bigger.

“I am allowed to have more than
one
friend, Mom!” she yells at Celeste.

“I just want to know who it is my daughter is spending time with,” Celeste pleads.

It never ceases to amaze me how much grief Celeste accepts from Cassie. Celeste is the toughest woman I ever met—maybe the toughest
person
—but she crumbles whenever Cassie is mad at her. And that seems to happen
a lot
recently.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Cassie says sarcastically. “Maybe we can all sit around the campfire and sing Kumbaya.”

I look at Celeste who frowns. It angers me that Cassie either doesn’t realize how much she hurts her mother or doesn’t care. Cassie takes me by the arm and pulls me outside. I’m glad to leave the trailer; it’s too small to contain so much tension. My mother shoots me a look of silent warning and I wink at her. Cassie is annoying but I think my mother is giving her too much credit by worrying so much.

Besides, I have a class to plan for and I head toward the garage to get my stuff ready.

“You know Stacey and the others are
not
happy,” Cassie says.

“So? They saw what I can do. Let them talk trash about me as much as they want.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to try being nice to them,” she says.

I shake my head and pull open the heavy garage door. Inside is dark and smells like old river water. Cassie holds her nose from the smell but I find it strangely invigorating.

“
Me
be nice to
them
? Ha!” I say. I grab the big wooden shooting target and begin to drag it out. “It wouldn’t kill
you
to help me with this.”

“But I just had my nails done. I don’t want to chip them,” Cassie says.

I swear she has an excuse for everything. I sigh but convert my annoyance for her into angry energy, which helps me lift the heavy target.

“I’m asking you as a friend to try to be nicer,” Cassie continues. “They gave me a ride home but nobody invited me to Heather’s party this weekend because they saw me talking to you and that slimeball.”

Just as she mentions John, the sound of a revving motorcycle engine echoes from the direction of the main road. My heart skips a beat and I drop the target. I must not hide by disappointment as the sound fades away.

“OMG!” Cassie shrieks. “You like him!”

I pick up the target and try to hurry toward the clearing beyond the garage. Unfortunately Cassie has no problem keeping up with me.

“I never thought this day would come,” she says, continuing to tease me.

“I think my mom needs your help filing invoices or something,” I tell her.

Cassie obviously creeps out my mom so a part of me feels guilty, like I’m saving my own sanity at the expense of hers. But it’s not like Cassie listens to me anyway.

“There’s plenty of time for that later,” she says. “Besides, I’m not leaving you alone until you admit that you like him.”

I drop the heavy target between two trees at the edge of the clearing, the perfect distance for when I teach my class.

“I don’t even know him,” I say. But we both know that’s beside the point. I’m starting to feel like I don’t know myself either. All I have to do is think of John—think of his eyes looking into mine, his lips pulled up in a smile—and the damn butterflies return to my stomach.

I sigh as Cassie laughs at me.

“I can’t believe Zannia Ammo finally has a crush on a boy. It’s about time!”

Cassie says this just as my father emerges from the direction of the river. There’s no way he didn’t hear what she said. I blush when I look at him and he raises a suspicious eyebrow. But he doesn’t interrupt ‘girl talk’ and instead walks into the garage.

“Will you shut up with that already?” I hiss as Cassie. She frowns, upset even though
she’s
the one annoying
me
. “I don’t like
anyone,
okay?”

Cassie crosses her arms defiantly. I understand better what she constantly puts her mother through.

“Good, because he’s hot,” she says. “Maybe I’ll see if he wants to take me for a ride on his motorcycle.”

Cassie turns and heads back toward the trailer. Her threat panics me, though I hope she’s only trying to get a rise out of me. I know I should just drop the subject but I can’t stop myself.

“You called him a slimeball a minute ago and your friends hate him!”

Cassie twirls her hair in her fingers and shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t even look back at me but I just
know
she wears a satisfied grin. I immediately regret giving her any sort of reaction.

“I’m not sure
who
I want to be friends with now that I have options,” she says. “I guess I’ll see who offers me a better deal. Motorcycle rides or sweet cars? Hmmm.”

Plenty of teenage girls my age go through phases of being miserable because life is confusing for us. But at moments like this, I wonder if it’s something more with Cassie, if maybe she’s just plain evil.

“Nia, could you come in here, please?” my father calls from the garage.

I swallow hard. After hearing what Cassie said, I was hoping to avoid my father for the next few days. I walk into the garage, glad that the darkness hides how embarrassed I must look.

“A boy, huh?” he asks with a giggle.

I feel myself blushing again but at least his teasing breaks the ice about it. I never really considered what he would think about me and boys but apparently it’s not as big a deal to him as I expect.

“Cassie’s crazy,” I say, not exactly confirming or denying anything. “It was just some guy I was playing lacrosse with, that’s it. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Uh huh,” he says. “That boy is the one I’m worried for, especially when I give you
this
.”

My father disappears into the back of the garage and I hear him moving aside a few old rafts. He returns a moment later with a large box wrapped in plain white paper. I smile but it’s not as wide as the one on his face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he says, handing me the heavy box. “I know your birthday isn’t until tomorrow but I can’t wait any longer to give this to you. The suspense is driving me crazy.”