Falling

by Katherine Cobb

  The last pair finished and the buzz in the auditorium grew as the crowd waited for the winners to be announced. Finally Mrs. Hardesty took the stage to read the list in her hand that would change the lives of a half-dozen lucky girls.

  She called out the first name, Suzi Fields, and the spectators erupted in applause and catcalls as she made her way onstage. Suzi was popular at school—a real looker with a body to match.

  She announced the second name: Cathy Morris, another attractive junior with wavy blonde hair. Was this a popularity contest or what? The third name announced was Jan Boynton, yet another eleventh grader. She squealed and ran onstage, hugging Cathy. What if they only picked juniors? After all, it was their last chance to be a cheerleader. I held my breath for the fourth name.

  “Anna Trapani,” said Mrs. Hardesty.

  That’s me! I jumped up in reflex. Michelle screamed, Katy hugged me and whoops and applause thundered as I found my way to the stage to stand next to the other three girls. I couldn’t stop grinning, the shock preventing me from registering the full weight of making the squad.

  I scarcely discerned the next name called: Pam Fong, a sophomore. Her long black hair swished as she trotted up the stairs to the stage. One spot left. Let it be Michelle.

  “And the sixth and final cheerleader is…Amy Lipton!”

  Once the shrieking Amy joined the rest of us, Mrs. Hardesty waved in our direction and announced the official cheerleading squad of 1979-80 to an enthusiastic round of applause.

  Family and friends surrounded me as I exited the stage. My mom cried, tearful at my accomplishment. Michelle tried to be happy for me but couldn’t stave off her tears. I hugged her long and tight, empathetic about her loss and disappointment. Pete whispered “I told you so” in my ear and gave my arm a friendly squeeze. Jim picked me up and spun me around the room yelling, “You did it, Paisano!” Katy, other friends and some judges offered their congratulations and well wishes. I beamed idiotically.

  The auditorium slowly emptied, and my mom drove me home, chattering about my flawless performance. I basked in her pride, and nothing—not even my pain, which usually hovered so close to the surface—could stop the joy radiating from my entire being. I was a Skyline High cheerleader!

  17

  Taking the Plunge

  Making the cheerleading squad instantly elevated my social status. Suddenly popular, students who’d never given me the time of day greeted me as if we were friends, asked me on dates and invited me to their parties.

  Summer vacation less than a month away also meant two things: I would never have to see Alec Mays again, and I wouldn’t have to study and slog through homework all the time.

  Without a doubt, the best news was Pete. We got closer every day. He invaded my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking hour. We talked on the phone incessantly, spent time together during breaks at school and went out on another “friend” date.

  My only problem? I was hopelessly in love with him, but I didn’t know if he felt the same way.

  “Did you get it?” I asked Pete when he called. He had taken his driver’s test that afternoon and you’d think by my gyrations, it had happened to me instead.

  “Of course.”

  “Was it hard? I need details!”

  “Nah. Piece of cake.”

  “That is hella awesome. I still have months to go.” I hated being the youngest person in my class.

  “I thought we could celebrate.”

  Yes! “Whatcha got in mind?”

  “A drive? Sometimes you’re a little slow, Trapani.”

  I giggled. “Your parents will let you take the car?”

  “They trust me. It’s not like I haven’t been practicing for months now.”

  “Hold on.” I set the phone down and scrambled into the kitchen where I asked my mom for permission. She consented, with a few rules to which I readily agreed before racing back to my room.

  “She said okay, but no freeways, and I can’t go far.”

  “See you in twenty minutes.”

  “Drive carefully!”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Sorry. Go. See you soon.”

  I paced until he slid to the curb in his mom’s station wagon, a wide grin plastered across his face. I bolted out the door, my smile matching his. He drove! By himself! It was almost as good as getting my own license.

  “Where to, my fair lass?” he said.

  My brain scattered several directions. “Let’s go up Broadway Terrace and turn right into the hills. There’s a great view up there.”

  Pete put the car in drive and smoothly pressed the gas pedal.

  “Impressive,” I said.

  He smirked. “And you expected something different?”

  He was so cocky sometimes, but I smiled. “Not really.”

  We drove through the foothills for the pure novelty of it. Pete finally pulled over, parking at a small unintentional overlook.

  I made him tell me every detail about his driving test, and we talked about what kind of car he wanted to buy. He said his parents wanted him to drive the station wagon for a few months before getting his own vehicle, but they would pay for his car and everything.

  I glanced out the window, admiring the gorgeous sunny day we found ourselves in. I had bigger questions on my mind when it came to Pete O’Reilly than what his first car would be.

  I took a deep breath, steeled myself and took the plunge. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He stretched his arm along the top of the front seat, giving me his undivided attention. “Shoot.”

  Whew, here goes. “Are we ever getting back together?”

  “Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind?” he said, chuckling.

  I smiled. “It just seems like…we’re…well…”

  “Yeeeees?”

  He was not going to make this easier. “I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me.”

  He stared out the window, obscuring his face from my view. “You’re right, I do. You’re like a bad habit. I tried staying away from you but obviously,” he gestured with his hand, “I have not succeeded.”

  I smiled, wondering if I would be brave enough to tell him the rest.

  “So, I guess that means we’re back together.”

  I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around him. His held me close and we stayed in the embrace, neither of us wanting to break apart.

  “Pete?” I pulled away slightly, staying close.

  “Yeah?”

  “If I tell you something, promise not to freak out?”

  “It depends. You’re not half-Klingon or something weird like that are you?”

  I laughed. “No such luck.”

  He feigned relief.

  I hugged him again and whispered, “I’m in love with you.”

  He buried his head in my shoulder and his arms tightened around me. “I’m in love with you, too.”

  My heart lurched in my chest. He loved me too! Hearing him say the words meant it was true. I moved to face him and without thinking, leaned my face toward his and kissed him on the lips. Soft and warm, a perfect fit with mine. We separated, but he pulled me back and we kissed again, this time with more intensity. My pulse quickened, mixing with sensations of excitement, yearning and others I couldn’t name. I had never experienced this. Somewhere in my mind, I could only discern perfection, the idea we were meant to be together. I wanted to kiss Pete forever.

  Gone an hour already, I visualized my mother tapping her foot impatiently, expecting my return. With regret, I broke our embrace.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  He nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to take you home.”

  I grinned. “Nice while it lasted though, right?”

  Pete smiled back and I slid around in my seat, fastening the clunky safety belt, but staying right next to my boyfriend in the middle of the bench seat. I loved being able to say and think that word again: boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend. Not only wa
s he mine, but we were bona fide in love. And we shared the kiss of the century! Several, in fact.

  I giggled, reliving it.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just happy.”

  Pete clasped his right hand in mine and drove with other hand on the wheel.

  “Is that technique approved by the driver’s handbook?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, Trapani. I got this.”

  I believed him. Being at Pete’s side, my hand in his, I felt completely safe for the first time in months.

  He pulled up in front of my house, kissed me goodbye and walked me to the door.

  After a quick check-in with my mother to show her I still lived, I sprinted to the bedroom and called my friends straight away, telling them the juicy details of my reawakened love life. In my heart, I knew things were going to be different this time.

  18

  Summertime

  I threw back the covers and practically vaulted out of bed, stretching my arms high in the air and letting out a happy groan. On a normal day, I spent twenty minutes contemplating getting up, but not today. I glanced out the window, greeted with a vivid blue sky dotted with billowy white clouds, the perfect beginning for the last day of school.

  I anticipated a great summer—I had my cute, sweet boyfriend back, was enrolled in the school’s driver’s education class in preparation for getting my own license, and would be doing a lot of cheer practice with the squad. We had to learn one hundred short action cheers and twenty-five longer routines before school resumed in September, plus go to camp, where we would compete against other squads and study the game of football so we understood what cheers to chant. Somewhere in there, I would find time to hang out with my friends.

  Anthony gave me a ride, his generosity spurred by his impending graduation. This was his last day of public education, the lucky dog.

  “How does it feel to be forever free from the bonds of required schooling?”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic.” His grin said it all.

  “How long do you think you have until the old man is on you about a job?”

  He turned the radio volume down. “Are you kidding? He’s already on me. I’ve got it covered, though. I start at Lakeshore Seafood next week.”

  “Cool. Doing what?”

  “Busing tables and washing dishes. Gotta work my way up. It’ll be okay. Pop will be happy, and I’ll be making money.”

  “I’m so jealous.”

  “Of me working?” He shook his head like I was whacked.

  I slapped him on the arm. “That you’re graduating. I can’t believe I have two more years of high school.” I glanced out the window, the scenery whizzing past.

  “You’ll live. Besides, school’s easy for you. You and your good grades are what made my life hell.”

  I smiled. Anthony still had one report card to face with our father. “They aren’t that great—you just make me look a Rhodes Scholar.”

  “Ha. How’s that boyfriend treating you?”

  My heart pinged thinking of Pete, just like the dogs in Pavlov’s psychological experiments we had learned about this semester. “Like gold. He’s a keeper.”

  “Let me know if he steps out of line. A few brotherly threats can go a long way in helping correct that kind of thing. Got it?”

  I laughed. “There won’t be any problems with Pete. We love each other.”

  Anthony did a double take. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “It’s the real thing. We’re more legit than a Coca-Cola commercial.”

  “Good for you, kid. But be careful. Guys only want one thing.”

  “You’ve given me this lecture before.” I wish I had listened.

  “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Be on guard, Anna.”

  “I will,” I said as we pulled into a parking place. “Thanks for the ride, Ant.”

  The day passed uneventfully. There was nothing left to teach, and no one paying enough attention to learn. At three o’clock when the final bell of the year rang, the entire student body streamed for the exits, reams of paper littering the hallway floors.

  I took special care as I prepared for the party at Jaime’s house. I curled my hair and donned the new jeans and peasant blouse I’d purchased, slipping on my sandals and checking myself out in my mom’s full-length mirror. I wanted to look extra good for Pete as I planned to lock lips with him for the majority of the night.

  My father drove me the short distance to Jaime’s for her party and a sleepover. “Have a good time, honey.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I leaned over and gave him an impromptu kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Jaime greeted me at the door and after meeting her parents, I followed her down the hall to her bedroom. I set down my overnight bag and plopped on her bed. She finished applying her makeup, which she wore on the heavy side.

  Having arrived early, nothing was happening yet aside from her mother hanging decorations and putting out food and drinks. Jaime offered me a glass of wine.

  I accepted it, with shock. “You can drink at your house?”

  She nodded. “The ’rents are pretty cool. They would rather have me drinking here where it’s safe than be out boozing it up and driving. We can party all we want tonight.” She topped off her glass with more red wine and lit a cigarette.

  My parents never would have agreed to let me come over, much less spend the night, if they knew Jaime’s folks allowed her to drink and smoke in the house. If only my parents were that cool.

  At ten, the party picked up momentum, the mood boisterous knowing we were out of Skyline Hell for the summer. I stared frequently at Pete in his fitted white jeans and a navy polo that hugged his muscular chest and arms. We stayed glued to each other’s sides.

  “Hey,” he said, tugging on my belt loop halfway through the party. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Sure.”

  He took my hand in his, and we strolled out to the driveway, giving us distance from the noise and crowd. He stopped in front of someone’s car and pressed me against it, his hands holding my hips.

  I gazed at him. “What’s up, handsome?”

  He moved a wisp of hair off my cheek. “I want to kiss my girlfriend. In private.”

  I grinned. “I like the way you think.”

  Pete pushed through obvious nervousness, leaned in and kissed me. Brief but pleasant. I stayed close, and his lips found mine again, longer this time. His lips were warm, their pressure just right on mine. My arms encircled his shoulders and his tightened around my back, our bodies molding together. We made out in earnest, intoxicated by each other. The occasional driver hooted or whistled at us. We laughed, came up for air and dove back hungrily for more.

  To be kissing the man I loved was like solving an intricate puzzle with the satisfaction of placing the final piece. We were a perfect fit.

  We rejoined the party, laughing, drinking and necking on the sofa until the early hours of the morning. I hated saying goodbye to Pete, wishing the night would last forever.

  Jaime and I cleaned up, changed into our pajamas and crawled into bed. We whispered and giggled, talking about our guys and all that summer promised, into the night.

  §§

  I walked into the drab green portable and picked a spot in the middle of the classroom. Five other students had already nabbed seats. I glanced at the teacher, dressed in tacky plaid pants and sporting a bow tie around the collar of his white, short-sleeved dress shirt. A bad combover completed his dreadful ensemble.

  Over the next ten minutes, others filed in, the stale air becoming warmer by the minute. I fanned myself with my yellow Pee Chee folder, stopping only to notice someone had added the words, I’m gay coming out of the mouths of the two football players tackling each other on the front cover graphics. No doubt Pete’s handiwork.

  “I am Mr. Wells, and I will be teaching you driver’s education this summer. Once you have completed this class and reach the required age, you will be prepared t
o take your test to obtain your driver’s license. There are two parts to this program. The first is classroom time, where you will learn the rules of operating a vehicle, the perils of the road and vehicle safety. We will also use simulators to practice driving.”

  Mr. Wells paused for effect. Despite my classmates appearing bored, I hung on his every word. This class was my ticket to a license, otherwise known as freedom.

  The instructor droned on. “The second part is time behind the wheel of a vehicle to implement the practical applications you learn in the classroom.”

  I had driven a little—illegally, of course—over the past year. My brother taught me a few things and let me drive around some parking lots on the sly, and Pete promised to let me behind the wheel soon, too.

  After Driver’s Ed, I met the cheerleading squad on the football field for practice. Kristi “Mac” MacDonald, our head cheerleader, ran us through five short-action cheers. It was grueling work to learn the words and movements for each cheer, much harder than I anticipated. It would require hours of rehearsing in my free time to get the moves down pat.

  I became fast friends with the other girls on the squad. I thought the popular ones would be stuck-up, but I was wrong. Before school let out, we met to pick uniforms and camp dates, and everyone got along fine. Summer would surely test our mettle; all those unlearned cheers hovered like a blackening rain cloud about to burst.

  Katy finished up cross-country practice, and I waved her over. We gave each other a quick sweaty hug and sprawled out to stretch our limbs.

  “I bet I’ll be able to do the splits by camp. Take a look.” I balanced on my fingertips while pushing my legs toward the earth.

  “I think you’re right—you’re only about three inches from the ground.” She did a hair flip. “What are you doing after practice?”

  I smiled slyly. “Seeing Pete.”

  “Of course. Why did I bother to ask?”

  “Why did you?” I chuckled.

  “Have you let him get to first base yet?”