Free Run Like Hell by Elena Andrews Page B

students wearing the team colors, red and black, file into the gym. Several friends wave to us as we enter and indicate for us to join them in the stands. Winding through the crowded bleachers I catch sight of Jack and he smiles at me. His smile is infectious and I return the same goofy grin, both of us thinking of our plans later. I haven’t told Traci about my post-game plans with Jack. I don’t want to jinx our plans since we’ve been up against enough obstacles.
     
    The horn blares and the game begins, with Carlos first to put points on the board. Jack skillfully runs across the court and manages to put double digits on the scoreboard. It’s an exciting game. If our team wins, we advance to the district championships. I know Jack’s been anxious about tonight’s event even though he hasn’t admitted it.
     
    I’m so enthralled with the game that I’m not aware I’m being watched. Across the gym I spot the kid who was talking to me after school. Our side of the bleachers is packed with fans so he’s forced to sit with the fans from the opposing team. He’s not the only one sitting on the opposing side. A splattering of black and red is intermingled with the Otters fans. He waves when I catch his gaze. Oh, brother.
     
    The horn blows, indicating halftime. Jack and the team are downing water and sports drinks while their coach talks to them on the bench. I excuse myself to the bathroom. Traci remains with our friends. Despite the pep talk from the coach, Carlos’s attention is fixed on her. I bet she wants to stay behind with our friends so she can stare at him as well.
     
    The line for the women’s restroom extends into the hallway. I’m relieved when it’s finally my turn. When I exit the bathroom the wiry kid is standing in the hallway waiting for me.
     
    “Morgan, do you have a second to talk?” he asks, looking hopeful.
     
    “I guess I have a minute.” Might as well find out exactly what he wants to talk about.
     
    “Can we talk over there instead?” He indicates down the hall, away from the crowd milling about the hallway talking. I relent and follow him to a quiet section.
     
    “What’s up?” From what I recall, I’ve never noticed this kid at school before. He must be a freshman based on how young he looks.
     
    He hesitates but finally speaks. “My brother mentioned he picked you up Saturday night.”
     
    The blood drains from my face as I stand before him. His brother is the guy who picked me up, the one who threatened me and returned my driver’s license? His brother is the lunatic, whose face I’ve been trying to forget?
     
    “What’s your name?” I whisper. The sounds from the gym have gone silent. In fact, I can’t hear anything around me. All I’m focused on is the small boy standing in front of me. My attacker’s brother. That’s why he looked familiar. He has the same eyes and similar facial features. But he’s so much smaller than his brother.
     
    “Ricky Smith,” he confirms.
     
    “Why aren’t you in the yearbook?” My heart is racing. What if his brother is here too?
     
    “Yearbook?” he looks confused. “I’m a freshman. The yearbooks haven’t been printed yet.” He gives me an odd look. “Anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because my brother keeps talking about you.”
     
    It occurs to me that Ricky is the boy in the hall I’d seen earlier today when I thought I was being watched. “You’ve been spying on me all day,” I accuse him.
     
    His hollowed cheeks turn red. “Yeah, I guess I have been. I didn’t mean to, though. My brother keeps saying you’re Caroline and I had to see for myself what he was talking about.”
     
    “Who’s Caroline?” The sounds and sights are returning. The crowd is dissipating in the hallway. The hum of the people in the gym vibrates. The game will start soon.
     
    “His ex-girlfriend. You look exactly like her.” Ricky has a way of staring that is very uncomfortable. His glassy eyes hone in