by Sheri Duff
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I shuffle into the house. I toss my keys on the kitchen island, then go to the couch and flop. I can’t sit and I’m hungry so I follow my stomach back to the kitchen. Those leftover chili rellenos are calling my name. I fill up my plate, grab my book, and settle back on the couch. I try to read a book but I can’t focus.
There is a tap on the wall, and then I hear a rustle.
“You’re not fooling anyone.” Alicia’s stands in the hall sporting her blue-and-white cheer gear. She shakes her poms. “When people read, their eyes move. And when people are really sick, the natural pink doesn’t come back when the pale makeup fades. They also don’t eat leftover Mexican food.” She takes the book from my hands and reads the back of it. This should annoy me but it doesn’t. “This looks good. Can I read it when you’re done?”
“Sure,” I say.
What am I doing? Do I like her or do I hate her? Do I trust her or not trust her? Where’s Benny when I need him? I don’t even know if I need either of them, Benny or his daughter. And I had a plan, or I was going to make a plan, to make her leave. Why are these people crowding into my life?
Alicia sits on table in front of the couch. “For the record, I probably wouldn’t go either when I was your age. But knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t let some stupid cheerleader win. And my sources tell me that your dad may not have all the facts.”
Whether or not I trust her or not, she has my attention. I look at my watch.
She smiles, and then says, “If you go, can I hitch a ride with you? I’m going to help Lily sell spirit ware. She can bring me home after the game.”
“Okay,” I say.
She moves from the table to the chair and opens my book. I run up the stairs to change.
I take my time getting ready. If Jack and Sidney aren’t an item, I need to look good. My hair is straight and I’m wishing the black was still in my bangs. I pull out my favorite distressed jeans and a Pine Gulch long-sleeve t-shirt, and then I grab my zip-up hoodie and matching knit cap. I throw on a pair of canvas shoes, then fling them off and grab my boots. It’s a little chill out and the lined suede boots will keep my feet warm. I should grab my coat…but then I wouldn’t be showing my colors.
I gallop down the stairs to find Alicia clutching my book. Now she doesn’t want to leave. “I’m driving, so you can keep reading,” I say.
“Yes, please.” Alicia hands me my white ski vest and a backpack full of snacks and a couple of cans of tea. There will be no cap quotes tonight; they don’t allow glass in the stadium. I won’t drink any spiked cocoa either.
Alicia follows me out to my car.
She takes the book into the game. My father would be mortified if he knew she was reading instead of watching the game. This makes me very happy.
She hurries to the spirit store, a small room north of the concessions, where the home team sells their school gear.
“Hey Massie,” Lily hollers, waving me over. When I get to the tiny room, Lily says, “Hand me your ski vest.”
It’s not that cold but I’ll need it. The sun found its way behind the mountains, which means the mercury in the thermometers will drop. I’m thankful Alicia grabbed it.
“Trust me, hand it over.” Lily waves her hand toward herself impatiently.
Alicia stumbles into the small, boxed room and finds a place to rest her butt behind Lily. She opens the book. Her nose almost touches the paper, her eyes dart from left to right, the pages turn themselves, struggling to keep up with the speed-reader holding the hardcopy.
Lily squints at her friend and slouches “Who gave her the book? She won’t look up ’til she’s done. So much for company.”
I raise my hand to show my guilt. Lily hangs a letter jacket over my hand like I’m a coat rack. It’s a white-and-blue letter jacket, but the blue hue doesn’t match true Stallion colors. A Trojan’s head replaces the Stallion.
“He wants you to wear it,” Lily says.
I look at her, confused.
“Jack. He wants you to wear it, for good luck or something,” Lily says.
I turn the coat around and the name Kotenko rolls across the back. “He lettered in his freshman year?”
She smiles and says, “Yep.”
Super-stud football player! A grin escapes. At this point I don’t care who sees it. I squeeze the coat close to my chest and jump. I look like Taylor Swift the first time she was on Saturday Night Live. And again, I don’t care.
Lily smiles. “Now hurry up and get your bootie down there.”
I look at Lily, and then at my father’s not-so-bad wife who still has her nose stuffed in my book. “Thank you.”
I skip down the bleachers right after the national anthem. I find my Vianna and Natalie and squeeze in-between them. “Nice jacket,” Blake’s voice hisses behind me.
“Shut up, Blake,” Natalie hisses back.
“Look at Sidney down there, thinking she’s all that. Jack hasn’t looked at her all night. He is, however, looking up at you,” Vianna says. “And look, how cute. He’s waving.”
I smile and wave back. I turn around so he can see that I’m wearing the jacket. When I turn back around Blake decides to step down and put his arm around me. But Jack is now focused on the field. The only one down there seeing this show is Sidney. Her face contorts, her mouth stiffens, her brows narrow, and the shade on her face doesn’t match our school colors. Sidney chucks her poms to the ground and stomps off the field.
We win the game 23–7. I love watching Jack pounce on Colby the first half. The second half, big bad Colby limped off the field. He twisted his ankle one too many times. Colby can’t take the beating. Colby used to be known for putting points on the board. Jack didn’t allow that to happen tonight.
After the game I stop by the spirit room. Lily asks me, “Can you take Jack home for me?”
“Sure.” Like I would say no to this. I’m not crazy.
By the time I make it to my car, Blake is leaning against my door. “Looks like you’re feeling better. I thought you were sick.” He cocks his head to the left.
“Yeah, I am.” I stop a few feet away from him. It’s Blake that I’m sick of.
“If you don’t want to go out with me, tell me,” he says.
“I don’t want to go out with you.” I wait for him to move.
“Wow, don’t you think that’s kind of harsh?” he says, and then he moves so I can get to my car door.
“You can always ask that waitress out again,” I say, waiting for a reply. But of course he doesn’t say anything. “Now, that’s harsh.”
Blake throws his hands in the air and walks away.
Good riddance.
I drive my car to the bottom lot. When Jack exits the locker rooms, the crowd roars. He pushes through them to me. He opens the passenger door and asks, “Can I put my bag in the trunk?”
I stare at him. His grin causes instant hypnosis.
“Trunk?”
“Oh, yeah.” I pop the trunk. He tosses the nasty-smelling bag in. I’m going to need a case of air fresheners to get rid of that smell. But for now I’m grateful. It’s like a smelling salt bringing me out of a coma.
Jack slides into the car and kisses my cheek. “I missed you.”
“Whatever.” I don’t look at him. I put the car in gear and drive.
“Don’t be like that. All of this was your fault.” He ruffles his damp hair and pops his baseball cap on his head. He smells sweet and clean.
I pull into The Burrito Bar parking lot and turn off the car. I unlock the doors and turn to open mine.
“Wait,” Jack touches my arm. I face him. He leans his forehead into mine. When he does this I melt. “Girl, you’re the one who told your daddy I had tasty lips.”
“I told my dad I wanted to meet your lips.” I pull back and pout.
“A rooster gonna come sit on that lip of yours.” He leans in again, his nose almost touching mine. “He was killing me at practice. Running me every day, l
aps and laps, then more laps. I had to lay loose.”
“With Sidney?”
“What are you talking about?” Jack backs away.
“My dad thinks you’re taking her to homecoming.”
Jack’s laughs through his nose. “No thank you. I heard that she’s going with that Blake guy.”
I bite my lip but this time to keep from smiling. Then I allow myself to breathe. Really breathe. I’m going to stop worrying and take chances. I let go of my lip and the giggle escapes, I can feel my eyes light up.
Jack moves closer. His forehead still touches mine and his lips are all I can focus on. “The only person I’m spending time with tomorrow is you.” His lips press against mine and our eyes close. “Tasty lips,” he says.
He has no idea.
