Beyond
By Maureen A. Miller
Copyright 2010 Maureen A. Miller
Prologue
Corey Burnfield’s letterman’s jacket eclipsed her view.
Aimee couldn’t move. She was blocked in on one side by Christine Whitaker with her singing entourage straight from the set of Glee. Corey cut off the other side by placing his hand on the wall behind her. He leaned in to prevent any avenue of escape. If there was someone she didn’t really want to escape from, Corey might be near the top of the list, but only in her dreams.
“Emma Patterson, right?” Corey’s breath smelled like the cinnamon gum he popped in his mouth
“Aimee,” she mumbled, searching past the ultra hot senior quarterback to try to find the glimpse of freedom in her third period classroom across the hall.
“I’ve been looking for you.” He smiled like a Scope commercial. It was a smile that could elicit a grin from just about anyone. Aimee, a seventeen year old that had never been on a real date, was as susceptible as anyone else.
“You have?” she asked, resisting the urge to fidget.
Aimee’s command of the English dialect floundered. She had two questions. One, why would the star quarterback who had eyes the color of blue topaz talk to a clarinet player? And two, why would the star quarterback want to talk to her? They were both the same question. She knew that, but she was having trouble getting her mind to work right with him looming over her.
“Isn’t your Dad a mechanic?” Corey asked.
Well, if you consider the Engineering Director of the local automotive plant a mechanic, then maybe, she thought.
“Not exactly,” Aimee admitted. She wasn’t good at lies, especially ones that were under pressure like this. “He works behind a desk.”
Corey looked over his shoulder at the pack of football players making their way down the corridor with the same bullish grace they used on the field. It was like watching a stampede of cattle. His shoulders shifted to shield her from their view. Aimee wasn’t quite naïve enough to believe that it was for her benefit.
“Whatever.” His gum snapped and his eyes got shifty, but that smile stayed camera-ready. “Look, my Dad bought me a used Lamborghini for my birthday. None of the shops in this hick town know how to work on it. I was wondering if I could stop by after school and show it to him.” He tried to flash his smile again, but it was looking rushed now that the football team approached. “Then maybe you and I can hang out or something.”
Was she supposed to faint? Get red in the cheeks? Go oh my God, oh my God, oh my God? Aimee just wanted to get to her third period class and not be a pawn in Corey’s obviously grand plan.
“I’ll ask him about it,” she offered quietly, taking advantage of Corey’s next glance over his shoulder to push under his arm and slip across the hall to class.
“I’ll catch you later, Emma,” he said out of the side of his mouth as he turned away.
Aimee, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes.