Diesel: A Sports Romance

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  She looks as if her feelings are hurt.

  “Sorry, I told you that we don’t really talk about each other’s love lives like that.”

  “Then what do the two of you talk about?” she asks in a huff.

  “Sports and stuff like that.”

  “Oh, right … since he probably didn’t tell you, I wanted to let you know that he’s taking me to the homecoming dance and I have you to thank for it.”

  I don’t know why I’m surprised but I kind of am. Mason goes to the dance every year, but after the conversation we had, I thought … I don’t know what I thought.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, right? I will be going with the most popular football player in the state.”

  Is that all she cares about?

  “Yep.”

  “So how about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Who’s going to be your date? You’ve done all this work in such a short time on the council to make the festival ten times better than it’s ever been.”

  “Really?”

  “Your ideas are bomb-ass, girl! Setting up food stations along the hayride trail was brilliant, and asking alumni for donations to pay for the mini fireworks show was genius.”

  “Thanks, Ginger.” Aw, maybe she isn’t so bad. “But I think I’d just rather work the night of the dance. Make sure things run smoothly.”

  “All there is to do is organize refreshments beforehand and pay the deejay. There’s nothing else for you to do the night of but dance, and I’ve got the perfect date for you.”

  “Date?”

  The other students we were waiting for start entering the room but Ginger keeps talking.

  “He’s totally interested too. I snuck a picture of you the other day and showed it to him.”

  “What?”

  Total invasion of my privacy.

  “Don’t worry, this is what I do. I’ve hooked up a lot of my friends. Haven’t I, Mary?”

  “She definitely has.”

  “And get this— he loves the sporty types like you and he’s in college!”

  “College?”

  “Yeah he goes to Georgia Union, so he’s local.”

  “I’m sorry, Ginger, but why would a boy in college want to go to a high school dance.”

  “Because it’s Scott Dobson.”

  I’m speechless. Scott was the quarterback and captain of the football team back when I was a sophomore. He’s a legend at the school. Tall, dark, gorgeous, and a bit of a badass. Me going to The Harvest Festival Dance with the infamous Scott Dobson? What on earth would a guy like that see in me?

  “And he’s my cousin.”

  “I don’t think I ever knew that.”

  She claps her hands with excitement.

  “We could get dressed together. Have Mason and Scott pick us up at my house. Take pictures. It will be like a double date. Don’t worry, I’m going to help you with your hair and your makeup and we’ll find you a dress. You can’t wear school sweats to the dance.”

  The girls at the table giggle at her jab. Ginger is so good at manipulation that I think she just simultaneously slapped and hugged me.

  “Wait, I—”

  “Trust me, Livy, we’re going to have the time of our lives.”

  11

  Olivia

  Everything about Ginger’s house is exactly what I thought it would be—brand-new construction, that sits on a piece of land that I swear is as big as one of the local playgrounds. The house has been decorated for the season. In almost every room there are seasonal decorations such as pumpkins that light up, dried colorful corn cobs, and strings of gold and orange lights everywhere. Outside is a beautiful rock and flower garden in the yard which features a man-made babbling brook, koi pond, and seasonal flowers such as mums and pansies everywhere.

  Her family is definitely Georgia rich, which is a not-so-quite creative description that my mom came up with families in our area with “new money.” There is even a room the size of my bedroom dedicated to hair and makeup, and after Ginger is finished blowing out and curling my hair and applying my makeup, it’s time for me to slip on the dress that I purchased online.

  It fits perfectly.

  It’s a simple blush colored mini dress with spaghetti straps, that even I have to admit almost transforms me into one of those impeccably dressed girls you see online.

  “Damn, girl, you look like a million bucks when you clean up!” Ginger exclaims. She’s basically patting her own self on the back for my makeover, which maybe she has the right to do since it was all of her own handiwork, but she doesn’t have to say it in such a condescending way.

  “Thanks, I think.”

  I turn around and look at myself from various angles in the mirror. Between the loose curls in my hair, the sparkly pink lip that pops against the color of my skin, and the way my dress slides over my curves—I feel beautiful. Really beautiful for maybe the first time in my life.

  I take a quick selfie to send to my mom hoping that it will smooth things over between us. I think she was a little hurt that I didn’t get dressed for the dance at home, seeing as how I’ve never gone with a date before. Yet she didn’t say anything to me about it, probably because she’s so happy that I’m going at all and that someone like Ginger is my friend—which is kind of a stretch to say. What’s more accurate to say is that Ginger and I are in the middle of a mutually beneficial relationship.

  Ginger’s mom pops her head inside the bedroom. She’s a petite woman who wears way too much makeup and jeans so tight that I think she may lose consciousness at any moment.

  “Oh, you both look so beautiful. I can’t wait for the pictures. Your daddy’s got the camera ready, and, Ginger darling, your date is here.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  On our way down Ginger checks her makeup for a final time, which has been impeccably applied but then at the last minute stops to pull open one of her dresser drawers.

  “Clean underwear just in case.” She raises her eyebrows up and down mischievously.

  My stomach rolls over because she is obviously planning on having sex with Mason if they haven’t already. Although I’m not really sure why, the thought of it makes me ill, and I’m sure it shows all over my face.

  “Are you a virgin, Olivia?”

  “I’m sorry—what?”

  “Have you had sex?”

  “That’s kind of a personal question, Ginger.”

  “You’re right it is, but I was just asking in case you’re worried about my cousin. He’s in college and everything, but don’t worry, he’s not expecting you to do anything with him tonight.”

  “That’s good then, because I wasn’t planning on doing it with him ever.”

  She grins.

  “Oh, so you are a virgin, because I’ve never not heard any girl say that they plan to sleep with my cousin.”

  “He’s quite popular at Union I take it?”

  “It’s ten times worse than high school. Everyone knows him there.”

  “Of course, half of our high school goes to Union.”

  “Well, that’s true.”

  I turn my back on Ginger and look at myself in the mirror, more nervous than I was already about this night. Questioning why I’ve agreed to this date. I should have just stayed in my lane and worked the event like I planned. What am I trying to prove by going to the dance with one of the most popular guys to have ever attended Bear Springs Senior High?

  “Girls!” Ginger’s mom sternly calls for us again.

  “Coming!”

  Ginger descends the staircase first to find Mason waiting at the bottom dressed handsomely in a slate gray pair of slacks and suit jacket with a crisp white T-shirt to dress them down. It’s not like I’ve never seen Mason dressed like this before, but tonight seems different.

  Tonight, I’m seeing what half of the female student body sees in him. I’ve always known he was fun
ny, talented, smart and loyal, but tonight he seems taller, sexier, and more adult than I’ve ever seen him.

  He smiles brightly as Ginger makes her way down the steps, but his smile soon turns to a stupefied gaze as soon as he recognizes that it’s me behind her.

  “Do you like my dress?” she asks Mason, assuming that her appearance must be the reason why he’s stunned and speechless.

  “Um yeah,” he says actively trying to clear his throat. “You look nice.”

  “Do you like how your bestie looks? I did her makeover as a surprise. I can’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces. I’m not saying I did it all myself, but I basically did it all myself.”

  She mockingly brushes off one of her shoulders with her hand.

  “You look really pretty, Olivia.” His eyes assess my entire ensemble from head to toe. “Really pretty.”

  My stomach flip-flops.

  “Thank you, D.”

  An awkward silence sits heavily between the three of us. I don’t know what Mason and Ginger are thinking, but in this moment I feel like something has shifted between Mason and me, but I’m not exactly sure what it is.

  I just know that it frightens the hell out of me.

  12

  Mason

  I know it’s rude as hell, because I’m in the middle of Ginger snap’s living room, but I can’t keep my eyes off of Olivia.

  The dress she’s wearing tonight is short and tight and it looks like I’m going to be fighting half of the damn football team off of her. I don’t know whether I’m incensed or impressed with her.

  “Did you pick that dress?” I whisper in her ear while Ginger is distracted talking to her father.

  “Yes, why?”

  “It’s too short.”

  She punches me in the arm and laughs.

  “What are you my paw-paw now?”

  “I’m not kidding, JG.”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Your cousin is pulling up in the driveway,” Ginger’s mother announces excitedly. “Could you guys brave the cool weather for a few moments and take photos in the garden?”

  What the hell. Ginger didn’t mention anything about a cousin coming over. I can only assume that her family takes school dances seriously and are coming by the house to take pictures as if I’m taking her to the damn prom.

  “Who’s that?” I walk over and ask Ginger.

  “It’s my cousin. You know him. He was on the team a few years ago. Scott Dobson.”

  Holy shit.

  Scott Dobson is her cousin?

  “Why is he here?”

  “He’s Olivia’s date. You didn’t think she was going to the dance by herself did you?”

  It all begins to unravel completely in front of my eyes. Scott walks in the door in all his confident, cocky, pain in the ass glory and makes a beeline directly for Olivia. The second he reaches for her hand, my entire body clenches with rage.

  “You must be Olivia,” Scott says to her. “You look amazing. I’m Scott Dobson.”

  “I know who you are,” she says grinning stupidly.

  “Ready to turn this party out?” He offers her the crook of his arm.

  “Sure,” she says almost meekly.

  When has Olivia ever been fucking meek?

  I am seething.

  We take a few painful pictures outside in the cold, and then we all head to the dance in the same car. Riding together was my idea, so I’m driving. There’s no way I’m taking my eyes off of Scott and Olivia for one second. He had a bad reputation as a whore in high school, and I can’t imagine that it’s gotten any better in college. I just have to get her through this night untouched, and then I’ll make sure that they never speak again.

  “You’re originally from New Jersey, right?” he asks Olivia.

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “I definitely remember you from school.”

  I watch the two of them through the rearview mirror of my truck. When Olivia lowers her head, and a small smile spreads across her face, my entire body begins to grow taut.

  He’s such a liar. Can’t she see through this good guy ruse of his? Doesn’t she remember all the stories she heard about him back in the day? Where is my tough as nails best friend at? She’s disappeared underneath the pink dress and lipstick.

  “I’m surprised to see you tonight, man,” I say to him. Interrupting their little love fest back there. “You’re a big college dude now.”

  “I like to visit from time to time. Homesick and all that.”

  Union is thirty minutes away. How is he homesick.

  “Just didn’t think you would do the high school dance thing again.”

  “I missed a couple of ’em when I was in school because I got into trouble a few times. I wasn’t allowed to attend.” He laughs. “Imagine that. The team’s captain not allowed to go to The Harvest Dance when the damn thing kicks off entire homecoming week.”

  “Oh yeah, now I remember. It was because of a drug thing right?”

  That wipes the smile clear off of Scott’s face. He starts to shift uncomfortably in his seat and cuts his eyes at me.

  “Weed,” he says in an attempt to clarify the type of drug he was caught with as if it matters.

  “Right … well Olivia doesn’t smoke, so no fun for you tonight I guess.”

  “Mason!” Ginger admonishes me. She leans over and whispers in my ear. “You’re being an asshole.”

  I clench the steering wheel tightly when Scott grabs one of Olivia’s hands and starts playing with each of her slender fingers. He’s not the idiot that I remember in the locker room years ago. He totally understands what I’m doing right now, and he’s passive-aggressively challenging me to “bring it.”

  “No worries, Bridgewater, that was the old me. You do a lot of growing up in college. You figure out who you are and what you want. You make smarter decisions. I don’t need pot when there are so many other ways to entertain myself.”

  He grins at me in the mirror and then turns to Olivia.

  “Your nails look nice. Did you just get them done?”

  She smiles goofily again and nods yes.

  What. The. Fuck.

  If we don’t get out of this car relatively soon, I may swerve us all into a ditch.

  “We’re here!” Ginger exclaims. “The lights outside look great, don’t they? Wait until you see everything that Olivia did for the midnight hayride.”

  When Scott gets out of the back, he holds the door open and extends his hand to help Olivia out of my dad’s truck as if he’s a gentleman. It’s so fake. That’s not who he is at all. Never has been and never will be.

  “Milady,” he badly jokes using an old English accent as he offers her his arm again.

  Since Olivia is not used to wearing tight short dresses like the one she has on, she has a difficult time maneuvering herself out of the car. It hikes up as she scoots herself across the seat and out the car, so of course, Scott can’t help but step in as her official dress smoother. An obvious attempt to touch her hips and ass.

  “Let me help with you that.”

  This is totally it I think to myself.

  There’s no way Olivia is going to let him get away with that. He smoothed the back of her dress twice with the palm of his hand. It was so unnecessary and totally gratuitous. I saw her chase down and wrestle Simon to the ground for five minutes for playfully slapping her butt one time when we were fourteen years old, so she’s definitely not going to let that slide.

  Except she does.

  “Thank you.”

  Thank you?

  I must be in the fucking twilight zone.

  “Is the punch spiked?” I ask Ginger as soon as we enter the gym.

  “We just got here.”

  “And I want a drink.”

  “It’s not spiked, but I stashed a flask in the locker room when we were all decorating.”

  “Get it.”

  “Okay. Wait here,” she says sounding a little disappointed in
me.

  We haven’t been inside the party for more than five minutes before Scott and Olivia start dancing. It’s like he couldn’t wait to get his greedy hands all over her. I know I’m being a prick to Ginger, but I’m out of my mind with jealousy and contempt.

  It’s like a light switch turned on inside of my head.

  I should be the one holding Olivia. It’s her senior year and her first official date to a dance. It should be me by her side not him.

  There’s not even a slow song playing, and he is holding her by the waist as they seductively dance together. I stand directly behind him so that she can see me. We know each other better than anyone in the world, and I know that this isn’t who she is. She doesn’t like guys like Scott Dobson. If she likes anyone it’s unattainable guys like the nerds from her favorite boy band, Thunder Road, not handsy, pot smoking, quarterbacks in college.

  I hold her gaze with a murderous look as her hips continue to rock back and forth to the music. Delighted that I’m making her feel uncomfortable. She whispers something in Scott’s ear, and he walks off toward the refreshment table. Then she approaches me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” I say icily.

  “You’re totally freaking me out. Are you trying to ruin my night?”

  “Yesssss.”

  “Why, Mason?”

  A tear starts to roll down her cheek and I realize that I’m handling this all wrong. I’m not angry with her. I’m angry at myself.

  I step in closer to her. Cradling the side of her face with my hand. Brushing the one lone tear away with my thumb.

  “Because you should be spending it with me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you trust me, Jersey girl?”

  “With my life,” she whispers.

  I stare deeply into her eyes and in this moment it’s as if everything around us has faded into the background. There is no music. No people. No Ginger or Scott. There’s only us.

  Mason and Olivia.

  And the only thing between us now is years of friendship and a pretty pink dress.

  I lean over and place my mouth on hers, pulling her into my body with the hand I have now wrapped around the base of her neck. Her lips are soft. Her mouth warm. I slide my tongue inside of hers and begin exploring her mouth gently. She is unsure of herself and doesn’t quite know what to do with her tongue which makes the kiss all the more sweet.