Failing Test: Book One of The Shadow Series Read online

  Tracy was a bubbly blonde ball of energy, what some would call the stereotypical cheerleader. With her small stature and high-pitched voice, she oozed unintelligence. Still, that didn’t keep guys from tripping all over themselves to hook up with her. Test could never understand how they could get past that voice.

  Heather was the girl that a person either idolized or hated. While Test tried not to hate, he definitely did not consider her someone to look up to. If there was a rumor going around, chances were that she had started it. If someone was considered an outcast, chances are that it was because Heather had deemed it so. For some reason, all of the girls idolized her and treated her like a queen. She had transferred to Southwest Lincoln High School from Kansas City during her freshman year. Her parents were one of the wealthiest couples in town and had donated the uniforms for all of the athletic teams. They had even donated the money for the football field to be done in artificial turf. The Andersons had a lot of say in the city of Lincoln, and everyone knew it.

  “Hey, Test,” said Nicole in a perky voice as she stopped directly in front of him. “How’s it going?”

  He looked at her in amazement and was at a loss for something clever or masculine to say. “Okay. How’s it going for you?” he replied nervously.

  “Pretty good, well . . . pretty good except for I didn’t get my English assignment done last night. I’m just not good at poetry.”

  “I’m sure you can write great poetry,” he replied in a flirty but still nervous voice.

  Nicole took a step closer. “No, really, I can’t at all. I hear that you write a lot of poetry though. Is that true?”

  He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to be modest. “I guess.”

  Nicole clasped her hands together and while holding her arms out straight looked down to her feet. Suddenly she was less confident and exhibited a shyness that she seldom displayed. “If I can get Mrs. Baker to give me an extension on the assignment—” she began as she looked up innocently. “Do you think that you could come over tonight and help me come up with something?”

  Test couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was it really possible that she had just asked him over to her house? Did this mean that there was the possibility that maybe she liked him? He stammered, out of breath from excitement. “Um . . . yeah, I think so. What time?” He glanced to Heather and caught her rolling her eyes as she whispered something to Tracy.

  Now bouncing with excitement, Nicole closed the last bit of space between them. “How does five o’clock sound?”

  Not knowing what to do with her standing so close to him, he fidgeted uncomfortably with the belt loops on his jeans. “Sound’s great.”

  She smiled and patted him on the chest gently. “Okay then, five it is!”

  He stood motionless as the three of them turned and walked away. Now standing by himself in a hallway full of people, he spoke aloud. “Not possible.” His face was red and flushed, and he was smiling from ear to ear. The emotions flowing through him were intoxicating. “It’s just not possible!” he repeated.

  The bell for second period rang, and he was now officially late. He slammed his locker door shut and ran to class, though he felt like he could have flown.

  *****

  The rest of the morning seemed to drag on endlessly. The only thing that Test wanted was to find Mark and fill him in on what had happened. They had lunch at the same time, so when the time came, he hurried out of the classroom and ran straight to the cafeteria. He could see Mark, already eating his lunch at their usual table. Test swiftly made his way through the obstacle course of students and tables. Arriving at his destination, he leaned on the table and tried to catch his breath.

  “You ain’t gonna believe this,” he blurted with a gasp.

  Mark looked up calmly with a smug look. “Nicole asked you over to help her with her poetry assignment.”

  Test stood silent for a moment with a bewildered look on his face. “How did you know that?” he asked.

  Mark calmly stabbed at his plate as he replied, “Marcy said that Nicole came to her before first period this morning to ask about you.”

  Without thinking, Test reacted with a voice entirely too loud for the room and company that they were in. “Shut the hell up!”

  All of the teachers that were in the cafeteria turned toward them. Mark stretched his neck to look over everyone and could see the principal stand up and glare in their direction. Mark sank quickly into his chair and hunched low over his tray. “Will you quit yelling!” replied Mark as he smacked the table with his hand, trying to control his own volume. “I’m serious,” he said. “Ask Marcy yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  The two friends stared at each other for a moment. Test repented. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . .” He paused and scratched his head. “You know what I mean.”

  Mark nodded in forgiveness and then scanned the room to see if anyone was still watching them. He looked back to Test and motioned for him to sit down.

  Test quickly took his seat and looked at his friend like a dog waiting for a biscuit. “Why was she asking Marcy about me?”

  “All that she told Marcy was that she was having trouble with her English assignment. She had heard from someone that you liked to write poetry. I figure that since Marcy’s with me, and you and me are tight, maybe she’s got it for you.” Pausing to take a bite from an apple, he continued with his mouth full. “I think she was fishing for a way in.”

  “Seriously? You’re sure you’re not jackin’ me around?” asked Test suspiciously.

  Mark crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head on top of them. With his voice muffled, he replied, “For the last time, I am not messing with you.” He lifted his head and turned to his friend with a drunken look on his face. “So, now are you goin’ to that party?”

  Test tapped nervously on the table. His legs bounced uncontrollably. “I don’t know what to think right now. I do know that I am about to lose my mind for this girl.” He leaned back in his chair, lifting the front off the ground, and took a deep breath. With his fingers laced behind his head, he turned his head to Mark. “How do I play this?”

  “Man, will you take it easy? Just take a deep breath, go over to her place, and hang out. See how it goes,” replied Mark authoritatively.

  Sarcastically, Test replied, “Yeah right, just stroll over to her house and hang out; as if I’m that cool. I’ll be lucky if I can keep from pissin’ my pants!”

  “You have a serious shortage of self-confidence, my friend,” Mark replied as he placed his hand on Test’s shoulder. “Look, she came to you, right? The way I see it, the hardest part is out of the way. She already did it for you.”

  “Yeah, but—” began Test, but before he could finish, Mark stood up and unexpectedly pushed him over and out of his chair. Confused, Test rolled over to see Mark standing over him with his hands on his hips, speaking in a booming voice.

  “Quit being a whining eight year old and go handle your business!” Forcing a smile onto his face, Mark reached out his hand to his friend and helped him up from the ground.

  Embarrassed, Test tried not to make eye contact with anyone, including Mark. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to compose himself. He was annoyed and embarrassed, a combination that didn’t sit well with him. Smiling through clenched teeth, he lifted his gaze to Mark and began speaking in a very staccato manner.

  “You’re right. She came to me. I am the man.” He placed a hand on Mark’s back and continued to speak. “Tonight I’m hanging with Nicole, and I am going to be just fine.”

  Using what seemed like a minimal amount of force, he slapped Mark’s back. The force of the slap sent Mark hurtling forward, hitting the table in front of him, causing it to rock up violently and slide forward a couple of feet. Mark struggled to catch himself. He grasped for the edge of the table, but couldn’t hold on and fell to the floor.

  “What the hell was that?” yelled Mark as he quickly picked himself up from the floor, his fa
ce now hot with embarrassment.

  “Man, I’m sorry! I didn’t think that I hit you that hard!” replied Test, scrambling to help his friend up. “I guess my adrenalin is running harder than I thought.”

  Mark stretched his shoulders and arched his back. “Damn, man! That felt like you hit me with a two by four.” Fearful, he looked at his friend.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Test replied, “I don’t know what to say.”

  Mark continued to stretch, only now it was more in an effort to avoid eye contact with Test.

  With seemingly all eyes in the cafeteria watching them, Mark replied sarcastically, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the feeling in my arms and legs will come back in a day or so.”

  “All right then. If you are sure you’re good, I need to get going.” Without waiting for an answer, Test scanned the lunch room in hopes of seeing Nicole.

  Mark watched as he glared wide eyed around the room. Shaking his head and with a chuckle, he spoke timidly and released Test from his guilt. “I’m fine, lover boy. Go and do what you gotta do.”

  Test turned his attention back to his friend. “Sorry about your back, buddy. I’ll call you later and let you know how tonight went, okay?” Test followed his reply with a fast and repetitive nod, and before Mark could answer, he was already halfway across the room.

  *****

  Three-thirty had finally come and mercifully ended the academic portion of the day. Paying attention in class had not been high on his list of priorities. Now all of Test’s apprehension about his big evening was beginning to turn into anticipation. Every thought was dominated by his upcoming evening with Nicole. After hours of stressing and worrying, he now had only an hour or so left to prepare for the “date.” This was uncharted ground for him.

  “Take it easy,” he told himself as he walked out the front doors of the school. “You can’t screw this up.”

  He entered the parking lot that contained every kind of car you could imagine. He was proud of his ride even though to most it was nothing special. On his sixteenth birthday, his Uncle Kenny had given him a blue 1966 Plymouth Barracuda. It was by no means cherry, but it was a four speed and had a three hundred and eighteen cubic inch V-8 motor. The interior had brown gunny sack material for carpeting and black vinyl high-backed bucket seats that were filled with tears. The black dash pad was cracked from too many years of harsh sun, and all that it had for a radio was a relic eight-track player. Test had no desire to change it and even tried to play it off as being cool. He had found some old Led Zeppelin eight tracks at a garage sale and, though it wasn’t playing, had one loaded into the stereo at all times just for the effect. As he entered his beloved car, the old vinyl in the sun produced a distinct smell that always hit him like a warm blanket. Even on a bad day, the smell could bring him comfort.

  Just as he was ready to put the key into the ignition, he heard someone tapping on the roof of the car. He quickly turned to his left and found himself staring at a cream sundress. His face became expressionless and fixated. It was Nicole. The sun was shining from behind her; the rays of light penetrating through her summer dress gave Test a visual of the beauty that was underneath. It took everything in his power not to stare. Realizing that he was compromising his second impression, he blinked several times and hurriedly rolled down the window.

  “Hey, you surprised me.” He spoke anxiously, once again out of breath from excitement.

  “Hey.” Nicole bent over and rested her forearms on the door. “I just wanted to tell you thanks again in advance for helping me out tonight. I really appreciate it.”

  Her voice was the sweetest voice that he had ever heard. “Uh, yeah, it’s no problem,” he replied as he scratched the back of his head. In the back of his mind, he was thinking of nothing but how beautiful she looked. “I think I’ve got some ideas for you. I think, or . . . um . . . hope that you like them.”

  “I’m sure I will. See you in a couple of hours?” she replied.

  “Yeah, or less,” he replied anxiously.

  As she started to walk away, she turned back and yelled to him, “I almost forgot. My parents aren’t going to be home tonight, and I thought about having a couple of people over. Do you want to hang out after we finish with English?”

  Without hesitating, he replied emphatically, “Yeah, definitely.”

  With a final flirtatious smile, she turned and walked away. Test gripped the steering wheel and started the car. With his voice drowned out by the Barracuda’s engine, he spoke proudly, “Hell yes!”

  Chapter 2

  The Pecking Order

  Test pulled into the driveway of his mother’s run-down trailer house. The single wide was a better fit for a junkyard than as a home. At one time, it had been painted yellow, but now most of the paint was lying in flakes along the perimeter of the foundation. The screens on just about every window were torn or missing. The storm door was attached to the frame by only the top hinge; when the door opened, the bottom swung out wildly.

  He opened the sun-faded main door and realized that his mother wasn’t home. It smelled of cigarette smoke and spilled beer and was still a mess from the night before. Maggie worked here and there, but hadn’t had a steady job in years. They had been living off of money that was left to her by his grandfather, but even that was dwindling, leaving Test to wonder how much longer they would have a home. Right now, she wasn’t working at all so the first thing that came to mind was that she was probably with Tommy. He tried not to think about it. It made his stomach roll. If it wasn’t for his working at the local grocery store part time, he wouldn’t have any money for gas or whatever else a seventeen year old might deem as a necessity.

  He walked down the narrow hallway that led to his room and entered his sanctuary. His bedroom was small, and the walls were covered with posters of bands that he idolized. He liked some of the nineties bands as well as the current rock and metal, but Pearl Jam was currently atop his favorites list. He really liked just about every style of music imaginable. If it gave him goose bumps, no matter the style or era, he considered it good. An ancient air conditioner hung in the window over his bed. Unable to keep up with the poorly insulated walls, the air conditioner ran around the clock blowing only semi-cooled air. It buzzed like a hive of bees, but he had grown accustomed to the noise. It actually helped him sleep at night.

  He stepped to his cluttered closet and pulled out his best shirt. It was a simple black-collared shirt. Definitely not flashy, but a step up from the tattered concert t-shirt that he had worn to school that day. With every breath he took, he could feel his anticipation growing. He closed his closet door and looked into the mirror that hung on the back. The longer he stared, the more he was overcome with self-doubt.

  “Why would she want you?” he asked himself aloud. “She’s so beautiful. What could she possibly see in you?”

  His mind started to spin, and his pulse quickened with every thought.

  “Why am I such a dumb ass?” He paused and then turned away from the mirror. “Knock it off!” he yelled, arguing with himself. “She asked you. Remember. SHE ASKED YOU!”

  Taking a couple of deep breaths to compose himself, he once again looked at his reflection. “You’re an all-right guy. You’ve got this. You can do this!”

  He braced himself and then slapped his face a couple of times. He wasn’t really sure why, but he had seen it in the movies so many times that he figured it must do something good for you. Before he could form an opinion, the phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, he answered it.

  “Hello?”

  There was silence on the line followed by a couple of clicks. “Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Maggie Davis, please?” asked a strange voice on the other end.

  “I’m sorry. She’s not home right now. Can I take a message?”

  In an overly polite manner, the man replied, “Is this Mr. Davis?”

  Test knew that the man was asking for his mother’s husband, but he was curious just the same. “Yes, it is.
May I ask who’s calling, please?” he asked in a more controlled and adult voice.

  “Yes, Mr. Davis, this is Dennis with the First National Bank of Omaha. Our records show that Mrs. Davis is delinquent on her credit card payment to us. Please give her the message that if we do not receive payment in full within the next thirty days, we will be forced to take legal action.”

  Test’s blood boiled. He didn’t care for or agree with much that his mother had done over the last few years, but he still felt protective of her.

  “Okay, Dennis,” he replied in a smart-alecky voice. “Blood from a turnip, buddy!”

  He slammed the phone down forcefully and shook his head. He knew that his mother wasn’t keeping track of him, but he hadn’t thought about what else she might not be keeping track of. When his father died, she took care of everything for the both of them. She had done the best she could for him. Unfortunately, now she wasn’t doing the best she could for anybody, including herself.

  With one last glance at the mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair and then headed back out to the living room. On the coffee table sat a couple of empty beer bottles and two ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts. As he reached to pick up one of the ashtrays, he noticed the time on the VCR.

  “Damn, it’s five o’clock!”

  He sprinted out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving the screen door to flap in the breeze. He quickly jumped into the Barracuda and closed the door hard enough to make the window rattle. In what seemed like one motion, he turned the ignition and backed out of the drive. He frantically put the shifter into first gear, dumped the clutch, and took off down the street with smoke rolling off the tires. The car might as well have been on autopilot; his mind was definitely not on the road.