More Than Rivals

by Ken Abraham

  Charlene looked at Darius, who wasn’t even glancing in Martha’s direction.

  “I’ll bet she is.” Charlene started toward Martha, but Bill caught her arm. “Let go of me,” Charlene fired back at him. “I have a score of my own to settle.”

  “Now, Charlene, take it easy,” Bill said. “It’s my fault too. But it ain’t nuthin’. Martha and I are just having a little fun.”

  Charlene shook off Bill’s grasp. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, but right now I’m gonna have a word with your friend.”

  She stormed across the living room to where Martha was seductively sitting. When Martha saw Charlene marching toward her, she rose instinctively, ready to defend herself.

  “Hey, you little tramp,” Charlene lashed out at Martha.

  “Who you callin’ tramp?”

  “You know who. The tramp who’s been trying to get my man.”

  “Your man?” Martha repeated. “Who says he’s your man? And who is going to stop me if I was trying to get him?”

  “I’ll be stoppin’ ya, that’s who!” Charlene pushed Martha’s chest violently, and Martha stumbled backward. She regained her balance just in time to see Charlene coming at her again, attempting to pin her up against the wall. Martha ducked under Charlene’s arms and ran to the door and out of the house.

  Charlene nearly fell over from the thrust of her attempt to pin Martha, crashing into a table and spilling several half-full bottles of Coke that partygoers had placed on it for safekeeping while they danced.

  “Come back here, you tramp!” Charlene yelled as she whirled around. But Martha was gone.

  Charlene looked for Bill.

  He was gone too.

  Across town at the Hamiltons’ home, the Gallatin victory party was also in full swing. A group of white teenagers were dancing to “Build Me Up Buttercup” by the Foundations, the music blaring from an expensive stereo in the family room. Eddie leaned against a wall, drinking a Sprite, and watched the kids dancing. Friends and schoolmates showered him with congratulations regarding the big win, and a few adult well-wishers peppered him with questions and wished him luck in the difficult game coming up.

  Doug, a classmate of Eddie’s, wobbled over. “Hey, here’s the man of the hour,” Doug said a little bit too loudly. “Great game, Eddie.”

  “Thanks, Doug. I appreciate that.”

  Doug swiveled in front of Eddie, looking furtively from side to side, checking to see if any adults were watching. Convinced that he was safe from prying eyes, Doug pulled a flask of whiskey out of his jacket. He grabbed Eddie’s Sprite and was about to pour the whiskey into Eddie’s drink. “I’ve gotcha something good right here, Eddie. Have a swig.”

  Whether Doug was slightly slurring his words on purpose or not, Eddie couldn’t tell. In either case, Eddie didn’t want what Doug was drinking. He pushed the flask away from his Sprite.

  “No, thanks, Doug. You need to go easy on that stuff yourself.”

  “Oh, yeah, Eddie. You know me.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Eddie said. “And you know my brother, Bo.”

  “Oh, yeah. Bo. Kinda forgot about him.” Doug stashed his flask and quickly changed the subject. “You gonna whip them Devils next Saturday? Those big black boys looked pretty mean out there tonight. Some of those guys must be twenty-two years old.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me how old they are,” Eddie said. “If we just play our game, we can take ’em.”

  One of Eddie’s teammates, Henry Horton, a second-string guard, heard Doug talking about Union and jumped into the conversation. “If those coloreds think they can muscle us around the way they did Westmoreland, they’d better think again!”

  Doug laughed and Eddie smiled. Eddie appreciated Henry’s confidence, but he clearly had no idea how tough the Union basketball team was. Eddie wasn’t interested in pursuing that line of thought, either, especially at the victory party, so he eased away from the conversation. Besides, he had spotted Missy across the room.

  Missy, looking her Southern-belle best, had long since changed out of her cheerleading outfit and had put on an off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. She looked stunning. Missy ran over to Eddie and wrapped him in a big hug. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the dance area. “Come on, Eddie! This is my favorite song. Let’s dance!”

  Missy sang along with the record as she smiled at him and tried to coax him into dancing.

  “Missy, you know I can’t dance,” Eddie protested as Missy shifted his arms to the right and then back to the left, in beat with the music.

  “Sure you can, Eddie. Don’t be silly. Everyone can dance. Especially nowadays. Come on. All you have to do is get out here and move with the music.” She tugged at Eddie, to no avail.

  “Oh, you are so boring,” Missy said, pouting. She danced toward another boy standing near the wall and reached for his hand, tugging him onto the dance floor. Relieved, Eddie backed up to the wall again. Missy stuck out her tongue in Eddie’s direction. He waved at her and took a big swig of his Sprite.

  Just then, his sisters, Delilah and Debbie, stopped in front of him. “Good game, Eddie,” Debbie said.

  “Yes, it sure was!” Delilah piped up. “I was afraid you got hurt when that big guy from Springfield knocked you down. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, thanks, sis. I’m fine,” Eddie said. “Listen, you all had better get a ride home with someone else.” He glanced over to where Missy was dancing, her eyes closed, her body swaying to the music. “I might be getting home late tonight.”

  “Okay, big brother,” Delilah answered. “Can I have a drink?” She motioned toward Eddie’s bottle of Sprite.

  “Sure,” Eddie said. “Not much left in there though.” He handed her the bottle.

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Delilah said. “Thanks!” She and Debbie took off with Eddie’s Sprite, giggling as they went.

  “Hey!” Eddie called after them. “That’s my drink.”

  The girls turned and smiled coyly at their brother, but they didn’t stop. Eddie watched as his sisters gathered a pack of freshman girls around them, several of whom he knew had a crush on him. Delilah held out the bottle for all the girls to see. He heard Delilah say, “And you, too, girls, can place your lips on the same bottle where Eddie Sherlin just had his!”

  Peggy Sue Herron, daughter of Principal Herron, reached dreamy-eyed for the bottle, but Delilah pulled it back, placing it close to her heart. Peggy Sue stuffed her hand inside her purse, pulled out a dollar, and handed it to Delilah. She snatched the bottle from Delilah’s hands, and placed her lips on the rim.

  “Oohhh,” the freshman girls squealed and cooed as though they were going to faint.

  “Oh, Delilah, Debbie,” Eddie said from across the room but not loudly enough that they could hear. “What am I gonna do with you girls?”

  Just then, Missy bounced back in front of Eddie, her face flushed from dancing. “Are you sure you don’t want to dance?” She flashed him a big smile.

  “I’m sure,” Eddie said, returning her smile.

  Missy grabbed both of Eddie’s hands. “Okay, if you don’t want to dance, come with me. I want to show you something.” She tugged him toward the front door.

  “Where are we going? Why can’t you show me right here?”

  “You’ll see,” Missy replied playfully. “Just hurry before anyone notices that we’re gone.”

  Eddie dutifully followed Missy out the front door and down the porch steps.

  “This way.” Missy motioned toward the barn. “My car is over here. I know you saw it at my birthday party, but you haven’t had a chance to hear the stereo system in it. The sound is amazing!” Missy took Eddie’s hand and practically dragged him to her bright red Corvette, which was parked off to the side of the house, along with all the guests’ cars. The convertible top was up. Eddie started for the passenger side, but Missy motioned Eddie to get in on the driver’s side.

  “Start the motor,” she said, handing Eddie the car keys. “And t
urn up the heat. It’s cold out here tonight, and I don’t want you to get sick.” Eddie crawled into the driver’s side and Missy slipped into the passenger seat. She reached over and turned on the radio. “Listen to this,” she said, the music enveloping them as she leaned back in the seat and rested her head on Eddie’s shoulder. Missy closed her eyes and sighed.

  Eddie put his arm around Missy, his hand on her bare shoulder, and held her closely as they listened to the music. For several minutes, he simply stared at Missy, admiring her beauty. She looked so pretty in her party dress. Then nervously working to overcome his shyness, Eddie leaned over and kissed her softly. Missy sighed again. Eddie squeezed her tightly and their lips met again, but this time, it was Missy kissing Eddie. They kissed and kissed, so much that the car windows steamed up as though they were covered by a gray fog. Their hearts beat faster as the couple’s kisses grew increasingly more passionate, the music filling the car and covering the sounds of their heavy breathing.

  Still holding Missy’s shoulder, Eddie was uncertain where to safely place his hands. Missy solved that problem for him. As they continued to kiss, she reached up and placed her hand over Eddie’s, then slowly slid both of their hands down her bare shoulder to her breast.

  For a long moment, Eddie held his hand awkwardly on Missy, right where she had placed it. Then suddenly he recoiled, jerking his hand away as though he had touched a hot stove.

  “What’s wrong, Eddie?” Missy asked.

  “Ah, er, nothing,” he replied. He put his arm around Missy again, and they kissed some more. The couple continued making out, with Eddie being careful not to touch Missy inappropriately.

  With the intensity of their embraces increasing, Missy placed her hand on Eddie’s knee. He flinched but didn’t move. But when Missy moved her hand to Eddie’s thigh, it was more than he could take. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Eddie whispered huskily.

  “What?” Missy said, the surprise obvious in her voice. “What’s the matter?”

  “Just stop right there,” he said. “We can’t be doing this sort of thing.”

  “What do you mean we can’t? We’ve been going out together off and on for nearly a year now.”

  “I know,” Eddie said, “but it just ain’t right.”

  “Eddie, we are eighteen years old. We’ll be graduating from high school in a few months. Surely, we’re ready to move forward in our relationship.”

  “Well, no, not really,” Eddie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We aren’t married yet, Missy. And there are some lines we shouldn’t cross till we’re married.”

  “Who says?”

  “God does,” he said bluntly. “I read in the Bible where it says plain as day, don’t be having sex outside of marriage. It says fornicators and adulterers God is gonna judge. Don’t get me wrong. It ain’t cause I don’t want to or nuthin’ like that. But I don’t want to sin against you, and I sure don’t want to sin against myself, and most of all, I can’t do this thing against God.”

  “But Eddie,” Missy said with feigned modesty. “We’re just kissing!”

  “No, we’re not. And you and I both know it.”

  Missy sat up straight in the car seat. “All right, Eddie. You don’t know what you’re missin’.”

  “Yeah, I do. I mean, no I don’t,” Eddie stammered. “But I’ve been around. I know what sex is and what it is supposed to mean. And we ain’t there yet, Missy.”

  Eddie was telling Missy the truth. Because he felt so insecure with the girls at Gallatin High, he had sometimes dated girls from as far away as Portland, north of Gallatin, near the Kentucky border. He’d even once had a relationship with a sweet farm girl who taught Eddie more about the birds and the bees than any health teacher. Although Eddie hadn’t always lived the way the Bible instructed, he had recently renewed his Christian commitment and was trying to be as disciplined about his sexual desires as he was about his athletic commitments.

  Missy shook her head. She probably couldn’t believe that any guy would turn her down, much less the guy with whom she hoped to have a future.

  “Okay, Eddie,” she said. “You don’t have to go all religious on me. If you don’t want to have sex, we won’t.”

  Missy tugged on the front of her strapless dress, revealing more cleavage than Eddie was prepared to see. He quickly turned his head and looked out the window as she adjusted her dress. She took out some lipstick from a compact in the car and looked in the rearview mirror as she reapplied the red color to her lips. Then she turned and looked at Eddie.

  “But a proper young woman does need certain assurances of love and affection,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, Eddie, do I have to instruct you in all the lessons of Southern etiquette?”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m not like one of your brother’s friends.”

  “Leave my brother and his friends out of this. We’re talking about you and me. How do I know you are serious about me . . . about us?”

  “Oh!” Eddie suddenly caught on to what Missy was intimating. He reached into his pocket and took out the present he had prepared for Missy’s birthday but had not given to her. He had hoped there would be another opportunity. Apparently, this was it.

  “Do you mean this kind of assurance of love and affection?”

  In the dim light of the car, Missy couldn’t tell what Eddie was holding, and Eddie was glad she couldn’t see the now crumpled, used wrapping paper that covered her gift. “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Open it and see.”

  Missy smiled and quickly ripped off the inexpensive wrapping paper, revealing a velvet box. She slowly opened the lid. When she saw the contents, her eyes lit up. “Oh, Eddie!” she gushed. Missy held up the gold necklace with Eddie’s class ring attached.

  “The chain is real gold,” Eddie said proudly. “Twenty-four-carat gold.”

  Missy held the necklace clasps out to Eddie. “Help me put it on.” Missy turned away from Eddie, and he fastened the clasp behind her neck. The ring fell at heart level, resting perfectly between her breasts.

  “Do you like it?” Eddie ventured.

  “Like it?” She looked at him playfully. “No, I don’t like it. I love it!” Missy squealed as she crawled over the gear shift, into Eddie’s lap and began kissing him passionately again. The windows quickly steamed, but before they could get carried away, they were startled by a sudden rap on the driver’s side window. Missy quickly flopped back into the passenger’s seat and adjusted her dress again.

  Eddie wiped off some of the steam from the window and peered out into the darkness. There stood Henry, the second-string guard.

  “Henry!” Eddie yelled. “What in the world are you doing out here?”

  “Sorry, Eddie. But I thought you’d want to know. A bunch of guys from Springfield just pulled into town. Sounds like the whole Yellow Jackets team is out there looking for Buddy Bruce, wantin’ to tan his hide for pushing their center after the game tonight. From what I understand, Buddy told them that he’d take on the whole crew of ’em down by the lake. So that’s where a lot of the guys are headin’ right now. Like I said, I thought you’d want to know—you and Buddy being best friends and all.”

  “Oh, man!” Eddie slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Henry.”

  Someone yelled out, “Henry, you ridin’ with us? Let’s go!”

  “Gotta go, Eddie,” Henry said, and he took off for the car already backing up in the Hamiltons’ long driveway.

  Missy put her hand to her mouth. “Eddie!”

  Eddie turned back from the window and put his arm around her, wrapping her tightly against him. “It will be all right.”

  “Buddy can take care of himself,” she assured him.

  “Yeah, I suppose you are right.” Conflicted, Eddie embraced Missy, and the couple began kissing again. Then Eddie yanked away and said to himself as much as to Missy, “I gotta go.”

  “Eddie Sherli
n, if you go out that door . . .” Missy seemed frustrated at what she wanted to say next, but she finally blurted it out. “If you go out that door, you just keep on walking.”

  Eddie looked back at her with disappointment in his eyes. “I gotta go. Buddy could be in real trouble. He’s my best friend. I can’t let him down now. Stay here at the house. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Eddie opened the door to the Corvette and stepped out into the cold night air. Missy, livid with anger, screamed after him. “Eddie, how dare you!”

  “Go on inside. I’ll be back when it’s over.”

  “Don’t bother,” Missy retorted as she climbed out of the car. “It’s over right now.” She grabbed the car keys, slammed the door, and stormed toward the house.

  Eddie, a little confused by Missy’s lack of empathy for the situation, shook his head. He ran toward his car but saw Henry and several other players in another car. The driver revved the motor and honked the horn. “Come on, Eddie. Get in with us.” Eddie left his car at Missy’s, piled in with the other guys from Gallatin High, and they headed for the lake.

  23

  DOWN AT THE LAKE, the headlights from several cars illuminated the shoreline. More than a dozen tough-looking teenagers from Springfield stood around a smaller group of Gallatin teens. Everyone was itching for a fight, but nobody was ready to throw the first punch. That changed as soon as Buddy showed up.

  The rugged Gallatin teenager pressed into the middle of the gathering, showing no trace of fear. “Someone looking for me?” he shouted.

  Anthony, a big guy from Springfield, stepped forward, stopping right in front of Buddy. “Yeah, I’m looking for you. You need to learn some manners, and we’re here to help you.”

  “You and whose army, big mouth?” Buddy asked.

  “You think you’re pretty tough, huh, big man?” Anthony waved a finger in front of Buddy’s nose.

  “Get your finger outta my face before I break it off,” Buddy snarled.

  “Ha, you’re the big man in Gallatin, aren’t ya?”

  “That’s right,” Buddy said. “Until someone shows me that I’m not.”