Gimme Everything You Got

by Iva-Marie Palmer

  “Damn,” Bobby said. “Yep.”

  “I’m so sorry, I must have dozed off,” I lied.

  He was guiding the bus down the next exit ramp, and he shook his head as if to say it was okay. “I know this area—I shouldn’t have given you all that responsibility,” he said. My heart plummeted.

  He pulled into a Mobil station and stood up. “We overshot our exit just a little,” he said. “We need to fill up anyway, so stretch your legs and we’ll meet back on the bus in fifteen minutes.”

  Arlene raced for the front of the bus, shouting, “I have to pee so bad.” A couple of the other girls beelined for the restroom with her while the rest of us went inside the gas station. I was starving, having missed out on Franchesa’s snacks, so I bought myself some chips. When I went to the counter to pay, Dawn and Marie were ahead of me, pooling some money as the clerk rang up two bottles of peach schnapps.

  “What’s that for?” I said.

  Marie cocked her head to one side like she was teaching a particularly clueless puppy how to pee outside. “To drink, silly.”

  “You can’t buy that,” I said, checking out the window to make sure Bobby couldn’t see us from the gas pump.

  “Marie and I are eighteen,” Dawn told me, hitching her gym bag up on her shoulder. It made a clinking sound, and I knew there must be more booze inside. “So in Wisconsin we can. A little room party might be fun. And everyone is on board.”

  “Even Tina?” I said. The team must have been planning this while I was busy not really helping Bobby. “And Dana?”

  “Tina said she’s in if you are,” Dawn said. “And Dana came around. The uptight ones fold so easy.”

  I thought of Bobby’s contracts at the start of the season, and almost brought them up. But Marie and Dawn closed in on me, saying, “You know we won’t be stupid.” There was no way everyone would follow the lead of No-Booze Susan. The better plan was to play along and then, at the party, make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

  “You know those football assholes would totally be throwing a party if they were here and not us,” Dawn said. She gave me a meaningful look, like we were continuing our conversation from the bridal shop. “And it’s not like a few drinks will hurt us.”

  “You have a point,” I agreed. A few drinks, then I’d urge everyone to sleep.

  Dawn grinned. “By the way, thanks for sticking it to Teddy for me.”

  “It hurt him more than it hurt me,” I said.

  While Dawn and I waited, Marie smiled at the cashier and said, “Nice day, isn’t it?” She gave him a sexy grin and slid the money across the counter at him. He ogled her as she grabbed the bag.

  Bobby was on his way inside as we left. “You made it, ladies, your first real game,” he said, smiling at us as we passed each other.

  “Yep, and we couldn’t be in a better state,” Marie said, holding up her paper bag. “Wisconsin milk!”

  Eighteen

  We’d only missed the motel by two exits, and since Bobby didn’t request any more of my help, I took a seat near Tina and Wendy the rest of the way to Wisconsin.

  “So, does his neck smell good?” Tina asked.

  “Stop, I was only trying to help,” I said, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “And his neck smells great. He has good taste in aftershave.”

  “I really thought your crush would have faded by now,” she said. She glanced up front at Bobby’s neck, and after a few seconds of studying it, added, “But I can see how giving him up would be hard.”

  “Yeah, and why would I? It’s not like I have a great crush alternative,” I said.

  “I take it that Joe guy still hasn’t made a move,” Tina said. I knew she’d have a field day if I mentioned the near kiss, but fortunately, Wendy saved me from answering.

  “Joe who?” she said, turning around in her seat.

  “The skinny dude at the car wash who came for Susan,” Tina told her.

  “Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” Wendy said.

  “He has a bunch, I think,” I said. “I’m not looking to be one of many.”

  “He likes Susan best, though,” Tina said.

  “You should give him a chance.” Wendy nodded.

  “Trust me, it wouldn’t work out,” I said.

  “Suit yourself,” Tina said. “But I know he likes you, and he’s cute. He might be worth a shot.”

  “I’m not taking a shot on a high school guy. I’m waiting for something better,” I said. Someone like Bobby, I didn’t say. Someone who wasn’t hopping from soccer to punk bands and from girl to girl. Bobby knew what he wanted, in a way Joe and other high school boys didn’t.

  Tina rolled her eyes; she probably thought that I was dismissing Todd again, which was totally not my intention, and I was about to say so when the bus stopped.

  “Well, who needs any of them? We’re here,” Wendy said, pointing at the sign for the Luna Creek Motor Lodge.

  Bobby registered us as we surveyed the layout. I silently hoped Bobby’s room would be so close to ours that Marie and Dawn would be too nervous to break out the booze. Soon, Bobby reboarded the bus, dangling three keys. “You’ve got three doubles, so split up among yourselves,” he said. “Sorry you’ll be sharing beds, but it’s better than leaving Powell Park at five a.m., right?”

  Everyone murmured agreement and filed down the steps. Once we had our bags unloaded, Bobby blew his whistle. I panicked for a second. He’d seen the schnapps. We were dead.

  “Quick announcement, team,” he said. I cast a glance at Marie, who was trying to look nonchalant with the bag of booze clutched in her fist. “Meet out here in a half hour so we can get dinner.”

  “Dinner?” Wendy said.

  “You didn’t think I’d have you play your first game on empty stomachs, did you?” Bobby grinned. “There’s an Italian place not too far from here, and we have money to spare from the car wash and some extra funds the school ponied up.” My guilt compounded—I had a feeling this meant he was going to pay with his own money again.

  “We’re, like, movie stars,” Joanie said. “They get everything paid for.”

  “We had to take some guy’s dirty underwear out of his back seat for that money,” Dawn reminded her. “It’s not exactly the same.”

  “Go get settled in,” Bobby said. “And then bring your appetites!”

  The motel was L-shaped; our rooms were all in a row on the top level, while Bobby’s was on the lower level in the other part of the L—far enough away that the party could go on, so long as we weren’t too noisy. “I wonder if we’ll be able to see into his window,” Arlene said as she unlocked the door to the room she was sharing with Marie, Dawn, and Dana.

  “He might be able to see us from his, so we better be careful,” I said, and eyeballed Marie’s bag.

  She winked at me. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

  In our room, Tina was tossing her bag onto the bed. Hoping to make up for my comment about high school boys, I said, “I was thinking, you should tell Todd to come by later, for the party. He’s not too far away, right?”

  “I thought about it, too, but . . . you think it’s okay?”

  “Of course! Anyone else would.”

  “He works till seven,” Tina said. “I’ll call him from the restaurant.”

  The restaurant, Sal’s Bella Vista, was almost a copy of Carmela’s Bistro in Powell Park. Red vinyl booths, candles stuck in old Chianti bottles, and low lights. We had a big table in the back, and Bobby took a seat at the head as we all filed into chairs down either side.

  It was family-style, and we decided on spaghetti, lasagna, a giant bowl of meatballs, and a salad at Bobby’s suggestion. As we waited for the food, stuffing our faces with the bread the waiter kept bringing, all talking about how hungry we were, it really did seem like we were a family. We were noisy and boisterous, and the people at other booths kept turning to look at us.

  When the food came, I heaped everything on my plate and passed the bowls and platters
to Tina and to Wendy on either side of me. “Make sure everyone has enough,” Bobby told us. “We can always order more.”

  Halfway through the meal, Bobby stood at his seat and raised his glass—water, though the rest of us were drinking Tab and RC Cola. He’d probably packed his wheat germ, too. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to make a big speech. All I want to say is that I’m really proud of all of you, as individuals and as the team you’ve become. So toast yourselves. You’ve earned it.”

  We clinked our glasses, and the convivial spirit sent a surge of affection through me. For the whole team, not just for Bobby. Maybe a well-behaved little gathering later wasn’t the worst idea. We’d been working really hard—at least since the Day of Infinite Suicide Runs—and had never gotten to celebrate our progress; when would there be a better chance to do it, just us?

  Back at the motel, standing with us in the parking lot, Bobby yawned and patted his entirely flat stomach. “Okay, ladies, I’m stuffed,” he said. “I know I can’t enforce a bedtime, but I strongly recommend you all get some sleep. We’ve got a six a.m. wake-up, and I know you want to play well.” He gave us a fond look, like we’d already won.

  “I’m so exhausted,” Marie said, in front of him, stretching out her arms. “It’s definitely bedtime.” I would have believed her, if not for the sly sidelong look I caught her directing at me, Dawn, and Arlene.

  “Me too,” we all echoed. Everyone yawning and stretching and sighing in faux exhaustion at once seemed to make Bobby feel uncomfortable. He withdrew a few steps, as if fearful we’d ask to be tucked in.

  “Okay, good night,” Bobby said. “I’ll see you all in the morning. If there’s an emergency, I’m right across the motel.” He left us then, and not waiting even a second after he was out of earshot, Dawn, standing next to Marie like her second in command, turned to the rest of the team and said, “Party in our room in twenty minutes.”

  “Yay!” Joanie and Lisa screeched.

  “Shh.” Wendy shoved them. “Are you trying to get us caught?”

  “Do we have anything besides peach schnapps? I hate the stuff,” said Sarah.

  “We have light beer, vodka, and those cocktail cherries, because I like them,” Dawn said.

  “Oh my God, I love Wisconsin,” Arlene said, doing a little twirl in the parking lot. Thank God Bobby was already in his room.

  When we met up twenty minutes later, Dawn and Marie had the room’s clock radio set to a disco station, and they poured shots into glasses they’d gathered from all our rooms. As they did, I cleared my throat. “Everyone, just don’t overdo it,” I said.

  “We won’t, silly,” Arlene said, but she tossed back her shot before we even toasted and gestured to Dawn to refill it.

  “Salut,” Franchesa said. We all clinked glasses like at the restaurant. I swallowed only half of mine.

  Donna Summers’s “Bad Girls” came on, and Joanie grabbed a bottle of schnapps and let out a whoop.

  “I’m all for enjoying yourself, but keep it down!” Marie said as she bumped hips with Franchesa, who swiveled her own. “Whoa, Franchesa, where’d those moves come from?”

  I laughed to myself and watched them dance for a while, imagining what Joe would say about the choice of music. We’d argued about disco’s merits, and I told him that only guys who couldn’t dance didn’t like it. But why was I thinking about Joe at all?

  Soon, Dawn was thrusting a can of beer into my hand. “Why do you look like you’re having some kind of dilemma? Schnapps isn’t supposed to make you thoughtful.”

  “I don’t know. Dumb guy stuff,” I said. “How they hate disco.”

  “Yeah, if they can’t dance,” Dawn said, reading my mind, as Tina and Wendy joined our corner of the room. Tina’s schnapps glass was still mostly full. At least I wouldn’t have to babysit her.

  Wendy flung one arm around my shoulders and the other around Tina’s and said, “Do you know my dad wants to take me to Fort Lauderdale this Christmas break?” We shook our heads. Wendy’s parents were going through a divorce way less reasonable than my parents’ had been. “My mom was like, ‘If he does that, I’m taking you to L.A. in the spring.’ But all I want is for both of them to leave me alone.”

  “Are you drunk already?” Tina asked her, shooting a concerned look my way.

  “A little,” Wendy said. “I went straight for the vodka.”

  “I don’t have much divorced-parent advice,” Tina said. “Mine split when I was so young that whatever crap went down at the beginning, I don’t remember. Two vacations doesn’t sound terrible, though.” As she spoke, I gently pried Wendy’s half-full glass from her hand. She was our goalie—she couldn’t get plastered.

  “All I got out of my parents’ divorce is a spot in my dad’s wedding,” I said, and sidestepped to the restroom to dump Wendy’s vodka down the sink. Then I rounded the room, covertly taking drinks to dump and returning the empty glasses. If I kept dumping refills, we’d run out of booze without drinking it all.

  Dana was especially tipsy. When Arlene asked her, “Why do you like Assistant Principal Lawler so much?” I took the opportunity to steal her schnapps.

  Dana, who was perched on the room’s tiny writing desk and contemplating a cigarette Marie had given her, said, loud enough to hear over the rest of the party, “Because she makes her own money and gets to do what she wants.”

  “Yeah, as long as Principal Dollard says it’s okay,” Marie said, plucking the cigarette from Dana’s fingertips and placing it in her own mouth.

  Marie lit the end of the cigarette and puffed it once, then passed it to back Dana, who took an inhale that was comically deep and led to her sputter-coughing as “Ring My Bell” came on. “Assistant Principal Lawler will be principal someday and she knows it,” Dana slurred as she tried for another inhale. She dropped the lit cigarette on her jeans, then jumped off the desk, sending the cigarette’s cherry to the carpet. Marie stomped on it.

  “Someday, sweetie,” she said, patting Dana’s shoulder.

  The phone rang. “That’s Todd,” Tina said, springing up and gesturing for Dawn to turn down the music, which had crept to a much higher volume from where it had started. She pointed to me. “Can you check if the coast is clear?”

  I pulled back the curtain to look down at the parking lot and saw no sign of activity. A light was on in Bobby’s room and I took that to mean he was somewhere inside it. “We’re good.”

  Tina told Todd and his friends they could come up. “Are you gonna go next door and get it on?” Marie asked Tina with a wink.

  Tina smirked. “We’ll see,” she said. Then she added, “We haven’t done everything yet.”

  This was news to me. I’d always thought the whole long-distance thing was made worth it by sex. “Really?” I said to her under my breath. “I thought you guys did. You always tease me about never really having done anything . . .”

  “I play my cards close,” Tina said. “And you never seemed that interested in Todd, so I never told you.”

  Todd and two other boys came through the door. Tina beamed and took three long steps to close the distance between her and Todd. I recognized him from a picture she’d shown me, but now his hair was longer, and reached his collar. I knew Tina’s mom would hate that hair. “Hey,” Tina said softly, followed by something that sounded like “honey bunny.” I was used to tough Tina, and hearing her cutesy talk made me uncomfortable, like when my mom put her lace underwear in my drawer by accident.

  She pulled Todd toward me. “This is Susan.” Todd gave me a wide smile. It looked like he’d been given extra teeth because he took such excellent care of the ones he had. He was cuter in person and a bit taller than Tina. He gave me a huge hug. “It’s cool to finally meet you,” he said.

  “You too,” I said, and meant it. At least one of my friends had good taste in boyfriends.

  “This is Jeff and Wayne,” he said, pointing at his friends, who had set down six-packs of beer. They gave those sort of mock salutes guy
s sometimes do, and it took no time for Arlene, Lisa, and Joanie to swarm them. I saw Wayne checking out Marie, who had greeted the boys, then had resumed trying to teach Dana to smoke. Dawn was in another corner, and I overheard her telling Wendy and Sarah the truth about her absence last year, and them being indignant on her behalf. The party was seeming like a better idea every minute.

  It wasn’t long before Tina and Todd opened the door to our adjoining room. She gave me a little wave. I wondered if tonight they’d seal the deal, and whether Tina would tell me if they did.

  “See, I told you this would be fun,” Marie said to me, coming up at my side.

  “I never worried about fun,” I said. “I just don’t want to let Bobby down.”

  “We won’t,” Marie said. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway, so at least I’ll be relaxed tomorrow.”

  “Why’d you join, anyway?” I asked. “I know you and Lynn are close, and she quit, so . . .”

  “Lynn thought Bobby was hot, so we went to tryouts. When she walked off, I stayed more because I was pissed she assumed I’d follow her,” Marie said. “And then I figured out I was good at it.”

  “You are,” I said. I thought of Candace quitting. “How are things with you and Lynn?”

  “She’s got Len now, and I’ve got this. We’ll be fine.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile as Wayne and Jeff came over to us with two cans of Natural Light. Wayne held one out for Marie, who took it with a smirking “thanks.”

  I accepted the beer from Jeff, who regarded that as an invitation to sit down. I hoped he wouldn’t be another tool like Michael Webster.

  “So you guys are playing in the morning?” he said.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “Don’t feel like you have to stay here talking to me if you need to get some rest,” Jeff said.

  I exhaled. He didn’t seem like a Michael type. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m partly here to keep an eye on things,” I said. “A hungover team would be bad on the field.”

  “How is the rest of your season going?”

  “Um, we don’t have much of one. This is our first and only game,” I said.