Page 79 of Kickoff

“Why are you what?”

A somber chuckle passed my lips. “Nooo idea, brother. I’m going… I’m going home nowww. Before I do something else thaaat I’ll regret.”

He shook his head, and I hated the expression he cast on me. Like I was a stupid asshole, someone he pitied. I couldn’t tell. I hated pity.

I closed my eyes and massaged my temples with my fingers. “Out of here.”

“I’ll give you a ride. Let me tell Paige. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t go anywhere. Wait for me outside.”

I did a military salute. “Yesssir.”

He opened his palm. “Keys.”

I sighed and fished the set from my pocket and handed it to him.

“Good. I’ll join you in a bit.”

After what felt like hours, my brother met me outside as I sat on the front porch steps and tossed me the letterman jacket that I had probably left by the poker table. My reflexes were off because I failed at catching it. “Come on. Paige and I will drive your car home later.”

For the twelve minutes the ride lasted, we both remained silent. My heart sank down to my heels, and my hopes were long gone.

The car stopped in front of our house, and I climbed out. Before I slammed the door behind me, Craig’s voice boomed in the dark, and I turned to face him. “Explain yourself, Mase. Tell her the truth. Mel is a smart girl. She’ll listen.”

“I tried. She stillll left.”

“Give her some time. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be mended.”

I rubbed a fist over my prickling eyes. “You think?”

He nodded. “I do. Go to bed and sober up. Tomorrow, you go over there”—he pointed to the house next door with his chin—“and you fix the mess.”

I stood in the driveway, watching his car pull away, the taillights retreating in the darkness enveloping me, when an idea hit me.

Yes, I could fix the Melinda situation. I had to or else I’d be miserable for the rest of time.

Rushing to my backyard to avoid triggering the motion-sensor light by the Shepards’ driveway, I neared the wooden fence separating both our properties. Maybe I could attempt to jump over it in my drunken state without breaking my spine—or maybe not. Anyway, Melinda Shepard was worth the risk.

I rolled my shoulders back and squinted, trying to gauge the height of the fence, because for the life of me, right now, I couldn’t remember. I took a few steps back to gain momentum and ran forward, unconvinced I could jump over it.

Airborne, I flapped my arms and legs, realizing I should have just climbed the damn thing instead of trying to leap over it. I hit a wooden post with my left foot and tumbled forward, face-first.

Oh no. Please don’t let me hit my right shoulder again.

21

Help a guy out. Please

Instead of landing on my two feet like I pictured myself doing—and like I should have done, thanks to my athletic abilities—I faceplanted on the lawn once I jumped over the wooden fence. Classy. Pushing my body up, I struggled to my feet, glad to see I was still in one piece. On shaky legs, I dusted myself off and rotated my right shoulder to check for any damage. I exhaled in relief and neared the side of Shepards’ house on my tiptoes, praying I was as silent as I thought myself to be. The clouds parted, and under the light of the thin sliver of the moon, I craned my neck back to guess the height of Melinda’s bedroom window. It appeared much higher right now, thanks to my brain being unable to process much information clearly.

Holding on to the gutter and climbing on the roof of the small woodshed, I removed my jacket and discarded it on the ground. I was burning hot, the cold air doing nothing to cool me down. My jacket was in the way, and I needed a full range of motion if I expected to make it to the second-floor window.

Slipping the tips of my shoes in the trellis lining the side of the house, I climbed the wall. Even with a half-functioning brain, I could tell this was a bad idea, but I was Mason Pierce, and I never did anything half-assed. I wasn’t about to start now. My T-shirt got stuck on something, and I pulled the fabric to free it. Even the sound of tearing cotton didn’t distract me from my mission. Melinda deserved an explanation, and I would give it to her. At the cost of my life…or at least, my shirt.

I continued my ascend. The trellis cracked under my weight, and I held my breath, imagining myself freefalling, as it shattered underneath me, and breaking my neck when I landed on the ground. I peered down and blinked. Was I that high, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I could take a hit on the field and run thirty yards with guys three times my size after me, but this, opening my heart to a girl was a first for me. And climbing a wall that I wasn’t sure I could trust to get to her room in the middle of the night was another first.

I secured my forearms on the windowsill, the tip of my left shoe wedged on the ledge a few feet away, and knocked on the glass panel. From where I was balanced, I couldn’t see a thing on the other side. The curtains had been drawn, and no light shone through the opening.

Was Melinda even back home? Did Sandra drive her here after they left the party earlier, or did she drive her elsewhere?