Catch Us if You Can

Chapter One – Dee Kearns

Once upon a time, there lived two beautiful young women who recently turned 18 years old. They were smart — well, one of them was — and were varsity tennis players at their high school. Then, one day, two evil, ugly, and vile young men —

“Excuse me? Who are you calling ugly, Dee?” Reid Paxton cut me off.

“What the — ! Get out of my story, jerk. It’s my chapter to tell what really happened.”

“Yeah, it’s our chapter to tell the story,” Erinn Summers nodded in agreement.

“Readers! Don’t believe anything they tell you because they are lying! Especially, the short one named Erinn,” Reid snickered.

“And don’t look into their eyes! It’ll ruin you forever! Forever!” Kyle Aldean added.

Punch

“Ow… Okay, we’re leaving. Gosh, you didn’t have to get so violent Erinn,” Reid rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Erinn. Only I could get rough and dirty with Reid,” I whined. “Anyways, where was I?” I frowned and tried to think but the rusty iron and wet, moldy walls of the jail cell made my head whirl. I tried to ignore the stench but it was very overpowering.

“I think you were talking about the two evil doers who were trying to corrupt our lives. Hey, when is it my turn to tell the story, Dee?” Erinn asked me and cocked an eyebrow.

“Er…After Reid,” I smiled meekly and waited for the fireworks. Erinn always got worked up over these things. She’s very temperamental, if you ask me. I watched her coolly, keeping a straight face as her cheeks flushed a little red in anger. Her forehead scrunched up, making wrinkles in her complexion while she muttered angry words to herself. I was suddenly glad the cops took away our tennis rackets. She always had to break or hit something.

“You better not be lying, Delilah Kearns,” Erinn hissed.

I shuddered. Chills shot through my body, making me feel all tingly.

“Ew, don’t use that name. And I’m not lying, I swear,” I put my hands up in surrender.

I remembered when Erinn hit me when she served the ball angrily. I had a bruise for two grueling weeks. But I guess the police officer sitting right outside of the cell would stop her tantrum. A ticket to anger management school would really ignite the fireworks. It would be the grand finale, if you ask me.

Anyhoo, back to my story…

Then one day two evil, ugly, and vile young men walked into their happy lives.

“Pardon me,” Reid shot a look at me while Kyle stared longingly at Erinn who had her arms folded, “But weren’t you the ones that landed us in jail in the first place?”

“Get out of my story and wait your turn!” I threatened and punched him on the arm. I watched him walk towards the other end of the small cell and fume like an angry bull.

“Very mature,” I rolled my eyes.

But he soon gave me a soft smile and winked at me and I knew all was right in the world.

Okay, so they weren’t ugly or vile, I’ll admit that. But, they are evil, oh so evil. If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t be in this mess. You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Well, let me take you back a month ago when Erinn and I just turned 18.

I was on my way to pick up Erinn from work; she worked every Friday and Saturday with her parents in downtown Pasadena. I was minding my own business enjoying the nice, warm fall afternoon when a metallic silver Mercedes Benz pulled up next to me. I had the hood of my white BMW Z4 convertible down and the latest Yellowcard soundtrack, Paper Walls, blaring from the speakers. The wind in my hair and the bugs in my teeth — okay, there were no bugs, but I freaked you out pretty good, huh?

The reason why I was picking her up was because Erinn suggested that we practice a bit before League finals on Tuesday. She’s a fanatic when it comes to tennis or school. You should see her on the courts.

Shudder

She’s a monster.

I had my favorite Oakley shades on and I was reminiscing the last time I had coffee. I had the urge to just drive off to Starbucks and order a caramel Frappicino. I really did. I mean, who cares about tennis, right? Sure, Erinn would have kicked my ass once or twenty times. But, these craves, they’re just so darn… umm… craving! I swear I’m crazy. Then, there was a loud honk and I lost my train of thoughts. There was a hoot coming from the passenger’s side and I, not knowing any better, glanced over. There, right there, to my left was Reid blushing like a maniac and Kyle elbowing him so hard, I was afraid I had to go over and take the yummy Reid to the hospital… or back to my house for some private healing.

He stuck his head out of the window and after another shove from Kyle, he said, “Was your father a thief? Because he stole all the stars in the sky and put them in your eyes.”

I bit back a laugh. How did he know that I loved corny pick up lines? Instead of laughing at his dorkiness, instead, I said,

“You sure? I would have thought it was the pollution,” I shrugged modestly.

“Come on,” Kyle, but I didn’t know their names yet, said, “Think of how your kids would look like.”

My mouth dropped open and Reid gave Kyle a push. I shook my head and pushed the button for the hood to pop back over my head.

The light turned green and I sped my way towards downtown Pasadena. I gave no notice to them as they kept pace with me. I turned the music louder and lost them in an intersection. I slowed down when I reached the doctor’s office that belonged to Erinn’s parents. I turned off the ignition and greeted Erinn at the door. Before leaving, I said hello to her parents and grabbed two water bottles from their refrigerator.

“Okay, so how did he know that you had stars in your eyes,” Erinn asked, amused. “You had shades on, right?” she laughed as if answering her own question, a movie of our encounter played repeatedly in her head. Each time she would laugh even harder. “Geez,” she gasped between breaths, “what guys would do to get laid.”

I shrugged and kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t want to tell Erinn that I thought Reid was pretty cute and sweet. Besides, Kyle seemed like the jerk. I met Erinn my freshman year at Ellis High School. She was the scholar and over achiever. It still amazed me that she is still motivated to do well in school. I lost interest years ago (and by years, I mean 4th grade).

We drove in silence until I pulled up next to the tennis courts at Oxford High School. She grabbed our tennis equipment from the trunk of my car and stood on the sidewalk, a funny expression glued to her face. She was staring at the car parked behind mine. I followed her eyes, my breath caught in my throat. Parked behind me was a silver Mercedes Benz. I laughed unevenly and shrugged.

“Um….What car did you say that they had?” she asked.

“Sure, Erinn” I said sarcastically. “They just followed us here to check out our hot bods!” I winked at her and answered a little bit more seriously, “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” I erased any possible idea that they could be here. We grabbed our rackets and the rest of our belongings before heading up the stairs that led to the row of courts. We walked, searching for an empty court and found one at the end of the row. Erinn dropped her bag on the bench and stretched her legs. She grabbed her Ti-S12 Head tennis racket and jogged to her side of the court.

“Hee hee, you got head,” I giggled immaturely. Hey, I may be a senior, but my personality hasn’t grown in eight years.

“That only applies to guys, dumbass. Come on and hurry up!” she smiled, the adrenaline already rushing through her veins. “Ten years later,” she muttered loud enough for me to hear.

I threw the ball up and served it with all my strength towards her. She retrieved it.

“Is that all you got?!” she teased, obviously pushing me to do even better.

I served again and again and again. Each serve never seemed to satisfy her. In frustration, she grabbed a ball that strayed from the court and served it to me. I flinched as the flashback of our last incident clouded my mind. The sound of the ball smashing against the strings of her racket was deafening. Acting on impulse and human instinct, I ran away from the ball and heard Erinn’s strings pop. She stood and glowered at me but more frustrated with her racket.

“I just got these restrung two weeks ago!” she complained out loud.

“Maybe if you didn’t attack the ball like it was an old perverted man…” I said quietly and laughed.

“Hey,” a voice behind me whispered and I thought, Aw, crap.

“I didn’t know you played tennis,” Reid struck a conversation with me.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I said slyly.

That was when a ball went flying past me — inches from my head — and smacked Reid on the shoulder with a loud thud. I stared gratefully at Erinn who had grabbed her back-up racket from her bag and was ready for another serve. I steadily backed away from the groaning teenage boy.

“That’s it. It’s my turn,” Reid interrupted my story. He pushed me from my seat from the bench and sat down. I opened my mouth to protest but he placed his finger over my lips.