Believe it or not, Lexa Thorn didn't make it to Pop's Diner after the game. One of her friends told me she didn't feel like celebrating the big win any more than she had at the game since Austin's funeral was tomorrow. Of course, Layla wasn't there either, and I found myself with no female attention, which was fine because I had all of my teammates patting me on the back and putting me on a pedestal. I relished in my moment of glory like a Roman gladiator who'd come home from a victorious battle. The comparison came to mind because we'd studied Roman culture in my history class this past week, and it made me laugh when I thought about it. A football was my sword, and my pads were my battle armor. But seriously, I tried not to let it all go to my head.

After rounds of greasy cheeseburgers, fries, and shakes, when Blake got up to go to the restroom, Elijah Ray sat down beside me in the booth. "Some of us guys are going to the rock crusher to do some night swimming." His cheeks brightened and his brow rose with the expectation of what he was about to ask me. "We like to jump off the cliff into the water, do a little high diving. Take the plunge. It really gets your adrenaline pumping, if you know what I mean. You should go with us."

"Sounds like a lot of fun," I replied.

"Some of us like to howl at the moon." He grinned, and it reminded me of Coach Steele's wolf-like smile. "Others just love the night."

"That's interesting." My eyes narrowed. "But it's already late and I have to go to Austin's funeral tomorrow."

"We'll be there too." He shrugged. "But if you're not up for it tonight."

"Thanks for the offer, but..."

Elijah patted my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "Don't worry. You'll come around soon enough."

Thankfully, Blake returned from the restroom and Elijah slid out from the booth. "You made some great catches out there, man," Elijah said. "You should reconsider the coach's offer."

"Thanks," Blake replied. "But no thanks."

"No worries." After giving Blake a knuckle bump, Elijah led the way as Ryan, Casper, Koby, and the rest of the coach's core group left the diner.

After paying our dinner bill, Blake and I made our way out too, stopping at our vehicles. "You going home?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I'm beat. What about you?"

I took a deep breath and stared at him, feeling a serious mood settling over me. "Still got some energy to burn. And... I thought I'd swing by Layla's house to see her. I didn't have a chance to speak to her after the game, and I feel like I need to."

"You were too busy ogling over Lexa Thorn."

"Maybe." I put my hand on the door handle of my truck. "I've been confused lately when it comes to girls."

"You better make up your mind." He jabbed a finger in my chest. He was smiling, and it wasn't a hard poke, but his message came loud and clear. "Don't hurt her and don't lead her on. She's a great person."

I nodded. "She's the best."

"She is, and don't you forget it."

With that comment resonating in me, we went our separate ways.

During the ten-minute drive to Layla's house, I did a lot of thinking. Some of it was about Layla, and of course, Lexa, but a ton of it was about that agent guy, John Smith. He said to call him when I was ready, whatever that meant. I didn't know what he wanted with me, but I suspected it had something to do with Austin Campbell's death. It had to.

Other thoughts weighed heavily on me, like thoughts of the pill's side effects. What would I experience, seeing the coach said it depends on the individual? I had been so determined to succeed in football that I paid little mind to what I might experience after taking the first pill. According to the coach, it was a daily regimen of five days a week, one of those bright red gel capsules for every practice and game. I would get stronger and faster with each dose and each subsequent rush of adrenaline. Adrenaline was the key. He made that clear. Next week, I would start the grueling extra workout sessions with the rest of the core group. I didn't know what went on during those workouts, but now the thought of it taking up more of my time after school and practice had me thinking twice about it.

I had on a black T-shirt and jeans, and by chance, glanced down at my right bicep, flexed it as I clutched the steering wheel. My brow arched. It seemed marginally bigger than earlier today. Of course, it could be my imagination.

Soon, I pulled into Layla's driveway, and when I saw the light on in the garage, it surprised me. I parked and got out, then wandered toward the lit-up entrance, her car coming into view, still jacked up on the front driver's side. A delightful energy hit me when I saw her legs—in blue jeans, I might add—and her feet sticking out from underneath. I knew she had to have heard me pull up and shut the door of my pickup truck, but she didn't move or act like she had. I'm pretty sure she heard my shoes walking up on the concrete slab, but she still didn't move or speak. What was she doing?

One look at that floor-jack and seeing her under the car made my stomach twist. That old jack still appeared as old and greasy as last night. I thought I saw some hydraulic fluid leaking from a fitting on the side. Maybe it was nothing to worry about.

"Whatcha doing under there?" I asked. "Taking a nap?"

She sighed. I imagined her trying to keep the tiny breath from escaping her lips, but I knew she couldn't. We had been through a lot together, with Blake too, of course, but I hung out with her about as much as I did with him. Science projects. Studying for algebra tests. Burgers at Pop's. Leaving her an extra tip when she was working our table. She was worth it. There wasn't much she couldn't or wouldn't do. She was as good with her hands as she was with her mind.

"I'm admiring the shiny new transmission I helped my dad put in," she finally replied. "It's good to acknowledge and cherish the good things in your life." Her voice had an undernote to it, as if carrying a hidden meaning.

"Like transmissions?"

"Exactly. They're vital. Always there for you. Can't do without them."

I got the picture, a crystal-clear image. "Mind if I join you?"

She remained quiet, and I could hear the bugs buzzing around the exterior lights outside. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard ya." She hesitated for a few moments. "Just deciding if I mind or not."

"Do ya?"

"I guess not." She exhaled loud enough for me to hear. "Get under here."

I kneeled and put my shoulder down on the concrete. Rolled on my back and slid under the car beside her. Blew a puff of air through my lips. "I missed you after the game."

She turned her head and flashed her eyes at me, her long hair spread out under her. "I had work to do... on this car."

She didn't have her glasses on, which surprised me. I had a clear, albeit dim, view of her hazel eyes, and it caused my pulse to increase. Her nose appeared slender without the black frames, more so than normal, and her cheeks had that rosy hue again, although the darker space didn't bring it out as much. Speaking of space, there wasn't much between us as we lied shoulder to shoulder. I hadn't intended to get so close to her, but now I had no intention of moving farther away.

"Did you and Lexa have a good time after the game at Pop's?" she asked, glancing down at my shoulder, touching hers. When I didn't answer, she looked up to meet my gaze, but didn't hold it long.

"She didn't come."

Her eyes flicked up to mine and her lips did this cute twitch. "She didn't?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

"Nah." I let my eyes roam over her handiwork... the new transmission. "I agree it's important for a person to acknowledge the good things in their life." I focused on her until she looked at me again. "Especially the things that are vital. Always there for them. Things you can't do without."

She smiled, and I had to admit it made my heart skip a beat. "Do you remember the time when we were kids," she said, "and we made an oath to never lie to each other? We were playing at the park, and I lost my..."

"Plastic ring." As I remembered, I kept hearing the insects buzzing outside, but it sounded closer and more mechanical than natural. Like a tire leaking air, so it wasn't bugs or anything of the sort. It was so subtle I barely registered it as I continued talking. "You got it out of that dispenser next to the bubble gum machine at that old country restaurant we used to eat at a long time ago. What was it called?"

"The Wagon Wheel."

"That's it. I found your ring under the slide but told you someone must have found it and kept it." I grimaced. "It was kinda mean. Later, I got to feeling bad about it and confessed that I'd found it. It thrilled you to have your plastic ring back, but you weren't happy I had lied to you about it."

"You promised to never lie to me again."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Where was she going with this?

"Dodging the truth and skating around it can be the same as lying," she said. "I've been hinting around about the homecoming dance, and you've been acting like you didn't know what I was talking about, when I think you know."

"Tiptoeing around it could also be a way of delaying an answer when you're not sure what to say." I looked at her and couldn't help but feel like I was becoming less and less torn. "Layla..."

"Yeah..."

That low whistle of a sound had grown to a higher-pitched whir of air, or maybe it wasn't air. Maybe it was... hydraulics—"

Something popped near my feet and the car lurched and came down so fast I had no choice but to throw my hands up. Layla screamed as the transmission and the undercarriage of the Trans Am fell down on top of us, but I caught it.

My eyes bulged and my heart exploded as a fire of energy—raw adrenaline—rushed through my body. I not only stopped the car from crushing us, but I also pushed it back to its original height to where the floor-jack had once held it.

I gasped to breathe as my mind tried to catch up to what was happening. "Layla! Get the other jack. Hurry."

Frantic, she scrambled out, sliding her body along the concrete until she was out and running wild through the garage.

I managed a peek at where the floor-jack sat, collapsed flat on the floor of the garage. Layla's hands appeared, snatching the deflated jack out from underneath the car. While I held the vehicle up, she hurried to place the other floor-jack in position. In no time, she had it in place, but in the rush, she struggled to twist the long handle to the right setting so she could start raising it up.

"Hurry!" I grumbled as the weight became too much for me to hold up.

She let out muffled cries as she started pumping it up. Finally, a few pulse-pounding moments later, the backup floor-jack was in place, holding up the car.

Cautiously, I removed my hands from the frame and summoned the wherewithal to slide myself out from underneath the car. As soon as I cleared the undercarriage, Layla pounced down on me, yanking me further out. In a panic, I grabbed her arms to pull myself up, but all I did was jerk her down on top of me. I was hyperventilating, and she was too. All I knew to do was hold her. I squeezed her and ran my hands through her hair as she buried her head in my chest.

After a few tense seconds, our sobs dying down, she pulled back, peering down at me, her eyes searching mine, and I swear, I never wanted to kiss her more than at that moment. But instead, she helped me sit up and lean back against the garage wall.

She fell on both knees beside me, holding my hand. "Evan? What just happened? How did you do that?"

Words failed me, but then I opened my mouth. "I don't know. Adrenaline I guess."

"That car weighs like a ton or something. There's no way you could have done that."

"Guess I was protecting something, or someone, I find really important. Special." Our eyes met, and she looked down at our hands, fingers interlocked.

Layla pulled her hand away, then stood and helped me up. "Maybe we shouldn't make it a habit of lying underneath jacked up cars." She crashed into me and held me tightly, sobbing against my shoulder. "You scared me."

"That car scared me." When she broke free from our embrace, I wanted to reach out and pull her close to me again, to feel her warmth one more time.

"It's late," she said, walking around to the front of the car. "You should go. We'll talk about what happened later. I need time to think about it myself."

I moved past her, yearning to turn back, to do what, I didn't know. Hold her again? Maybe. Kiss her? Definitely. When I made it back to my truck, she called out to me, and I stopped.

"Sometime Monday," she said. "I'm going to ask you a question about homecoming. When I do, don't sidestep me. Give me a straight up answer and be honest with me. Just tell me the truth. I can take it either way."

"Layla, I..."

"No." She shook her head. "Monday. That'll give you enough time to decide who you want to take to the homecoming dance."

"My mind is already made up."

"Just go."

And I did. I nodded, got in my truck, and left.

The entire way home, I kept reliving the moment she crashed into my arms. I still felt the warmth of her embrace, the fragrance of her hair as it touched my cheek, and the wetness of her frightened sobs as her tears soaked my shirt.

A few things I was certain of. She was vital, always there for me, and someone I couldn't do without, as a friend, and possibly even more.

——
Chapter 9: 2,538
Story: 17,852