by Sierra Dean
When the band hit the chorus, the cheerleaders chanted along until it all reached a fever pitch and the crowd was on their feet stomping in time. Lou was equal parts excited and freaked out by the town’s intense devotion to high school football.
It all served as a great distraction to the weird incident earlier with Archer.
When the team took to the field, the spectators cried out with the vigor of bystanders at Roman gladiator matches. Lou snickered until she saw the name Reynolds printed on the back of a jersey as he sprinted out, and then she joined the crowd, clapping and cheering right along with them. At least here she wouldn’t have to explain cheering for him. She was cheering for the team as far as any of the other girls were concerned. Later, when she was hanging out with him at Archer’s party, she was sure she’d catch hell from Marnie, but she’d just shrug it off.
She’d been warned about him, but she was choosing to ignore them.
The rules and game play of football weren’t something Lou really had a good grasp on. If quizzed on the finer points of baseball, she could have talked for hour about bloops, lollipops, and hit-and-runs. Football, on the other hand, was a total mystery. Marnie tried her best to keep Lou up to speed, using phrases like “sack,” “scramble,” and “Hail Mary”, but Lou finally gave up trying to learn. She’d look at the Wikipedia page for it later that weekend and maybe re-watch Varsity Blues.
All she knew was Cooper was good.
She was no expert on these things, obviously, but it seemed whenever he got the ball, he was untouchable. It was the only time she’d seen people pay attention to him or even speak his name. To the crowd he wasn’t Cooper, he was Reynolds or “Number Forty”. But they were rooting for him. They were going crazy for him. And it made a weird sense of pride bloom inside her.
For once, and maybe the only time, they were seeing him the way she did.
Two and a half hours later the Padres had crushed the competition and the players had left the field. Fans started milling out of their seats, clapping each other on the back, shaking hands and giving high-fives as if they’d somehow been personally responsible for the victory.
Lou followed the rest of the girls to the parking lot, all the while scanning the crowd to see if she could catch sight of Cooper amongst the throngs of fans. Sure, she’d see him in a half hour at the party, but she had an overwhelming desire to congratulate him now. The urgency she felt to be near him flickered as they reached the lot with no sign of his tall, wiry frame.
She got into Marnie’s Hyundai Sonata, and three others piled into the backseat. Everyone else was wedged into Annie’s mom’s minivan, borrowed that evening specifically for its human cargo capacity. The girls spent about forty minutes at Marnie’s place in her enormous bedroom swapping dresses and applying makeup. When Marnie suggested Lou might want to change, it was said politely, but the hint lingered that she should change, lest she make them all look bad.
Again she was in a position where she had to borrow something from her much taller friend, but in this instance it worked in her favor. Marnie tended to opt for shorter skirts than Lou ever would have considered on her own, but because of their height difference the hems came much closer to Lou’s knees.
She opted for a plain green dress with a flirty hemline that swished when she spun around. Marnie tried to get her into heels, but Lou pictured the group of them hobbling across the lawn to the party in the woods, their heels buried in the grass, and she decided to stick with her Converse low tops. She might not look the sexiest of the lot of them, but she also wouldn’t be the first person to do a face plant into the grass.
They arrived fashionably late to the party, Marnie cursing their parking spot on the gravel road leading up to Archer’s house.
House was a reserved term for the Wyatt estate. It was a sprawling ranch home that looked like it had been transplanted from the pages of Architectural Digest, with beautifully manicured lawns and giant windows showing the impressive interior of the home. It appeared that the Wyatts had left every light on just to give their visitors a glimpse of the wonderment inside.
Before Marnie could lead them down the path towards the party, the door to the Wyatt house opened and a woman came out onto the front step.
“You ladies aren’t running off without saying hello, are you? Marnie Jackson, what would your mother say?” There was a lightness to the woman’s voice that suggested she was teasing, but Marnie changed directions all the same.
“Come on, we’ll just go say hello quickly.” She grabbed Lou’s hand and tugged her in the direction of the main house.
Lou looked wistfully towards the party, hoping this side trek wouldn’t delay them too long. She wanted to see Cooper, not some lady she’d never met before. But if the woman was—as logic implied—Archer’s mother, it was only polite she thank Mrs. Wyatt for having them over. Or, more accurately, for letting Archer throw an insane backyard rager.
Mrs. Wyatt was smoking a cigarette and held a martini between two fingers. She was wearing a lilac cardigan over a white blouse, her khakis were ironed with crisp pleats, and she had a set of pearls on to round out her overall Stepford-wife look. With hair the same downy blonde color as her son, she was beautiful, polished, and generally perfect.
Lou was suddenly very happy she’d borrowed a dress from Marnie, otherwise she would have felt woefully inadequate. As it was she wasn’t sure how the woman looked so good. Her own mother sat around in battered jeans and an old NFL T-shirt with holes in the neck when she had nowhere to go. Sweater sets and pearls weren’t the Whittaker idea of relaxed casual.
“Who’s your little friend?” Mrs. Wyatt held her martini in Lou’s general direction. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Marnie ushered Lou forward, presenting her like a cat with a dead mouse. “This is Lou Whittaker. Elle’s granddaughter.”
“Lou?” Mrs. Wyatt wrinkled her nose. “What a…peculiar moniker.”
“It’s short for Eloise. I’m named after my grandma.” She gave a shrug, trying not to be annoyed with everyone’s opinion on her nickname. She didn’t like to point out that no one made fun of a girl named Princess, so they might want to tone it down about a nickname like Lou.
“Lovely. Well any friend of Marnie’s…” She lifted her martini glass and cheers’d them before taking a sip. “My name is Ariel. You know my son, I take it?”
“Archer? Oh, yeah. We’ve met.”
“Hmm.” Ariel licked the rim of her glass and stared over to the party site, regarding the fire thoughtfully. When she looked back, the reflection of the flames held in her eyes. She blinked once and the flames were gone.
Lou stared at her, waiting to see if the light would return, but it was just the normal glimmer of blue eyes under porch lights. Maybe Lou had been imagining things.
Funny how overactive her imagination had become since she’d moved to Poisonfoot.
“Well, you girls have fun.” Ariel continued to look at Lou as though Marnie wasn’t there. “Tell Archer to be a good boy.”
“Oh, he’s always good,” Marnie said with a giggle, taking Lou’s hand again and pulling her towards the party.
The farther they walked from where they’d parked, the louder the noise got, until the chorus from the rowdy partygoers drowned out the cheerful giggles of her own group. They rounded a bend in the road, and an enormous fire pit lit the rest of their way, flames towering eight feet high and a massive gathering of people sitting on built-in benches, assorted camp chairs, or blankets in the grass.
Lou’s fears over high heels had been mostly for nothing, considering the paved path brought them directly to the fire pit area, but when the girls started wandering out into the grass, she saw a few of them bobbling like baby giraffes learning how to walk for the first time. Marnie slipped her own heels off and made a beeline for Archer, dragging Lou behind her.
“Archer Wyatt, look who I brought,” Marnie squealed and presented Lou like she was a prize.
“Well, be st
ill my heart. Is this the same Lou Whittaker I saw in detention?”
Lou hated how good her name sounded coming out of his mouth. She fought against the warm swell of giddy enjoyment that bubbled up inside her, making her blush like…well, like a teenage girl.
He certainly wasn’t making her feel uneasy anymore.
“Hi, Archer.” Lou hated how high her voice came out.
“Can I get the two prettiest girls at my party a drink?” he asked, all twang and Southern charm. He was like a junior Matthew McConaughey, before the actor got all greasy and weird.
Okay…more greasy and weird.
Marnie giggled like a beverage offer was the funniest thing Archer could have said right then and slapped him playfully on the arm. “Oh, you.”
She seriously said, Oh, you.
“Yeah, a drink would be awesome,” Lou interjected, hoping to save Marnie from doing anything else completely clichéd and insane. If she liked Archer, that was cool, but she didn’t need to lay it on thick for Lou’s benefit.
“All right, girls. Don’t you go anywhere.” He tipped his imaginary cap to them and wandered off.
“He likes you,” Marnie hissed, pinching Lou’s arm.
“Ow. And what?”
“Archer likes you, stupid. Be nicer to him.”
Lou was dazed. “Uh…I said hi.”
Marnie rolled her eyes. “Do you seriously not know that he’s cuckoo for Lulu?”
“Oh my God, Marnie. I am begging you to never say that sentence again as long as you live. And no, he’s not.”
“Then why has he asked me like forty-five times this week if you’re coming?”
“Maybe he was using it as an excuse to talk to you.” Lou hoped an appeal to Marnie’s vanity might help.
“Yeah. Right. Anyway, I’m going to find an excuse to leave when he comes back. Don’t blow it.”
“Blow…what?”
Marnie giggled so hard she snorted, then covered her mouth. “Well, I guess you could blow it.”
“Omigod, Marnie,” Lou squeaked, slapping her friend’s arm. “No.”
“Shush, here he comes.”
Archer returned with two beers, their bottles dewy from cooler ice, making small amber gems glimmer on the surface of the glass. He handed them each a beer, and cool as a cucumber Marnie said, “Oh. I forgot to…not be here.” She turned and skipped off in the opposite direction.
“I…uh…” Lou wanted to say, Well that was awkward, but knew nothing made a situation more awkward than drawing attention to it. She sipped the beer, the flavor bitter on her tongue, and smiled politely at him. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said finally.
“Of course. I wanted you here.”
She tried not to think of the weirdness from earlier, when being with Archer had chased away her thoughts of Cooper. Instead she stayed out of arm’s reach and tried to think of anything else.
He likes you. Marnie’s words bounced around in her skull like the little silver balls in a pinball machine. She was unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of male affection, so she wasn’t sure what a crush looked like, only what they felt like. She tried to measure Archer’s actions against the feelings she had for Cooper. Did it seem like he had a flock of butterflies in his belly? Did he blush constantly when he spoke? Did it look like he might vomit at any moment?
No. He looked cool, calm, and collected. The very picture of composure. Of course, that didn’t mean Marnie was wrong, it just meant Lou sucked at telling if people liked her.
She wasn’t even a hundred percent sure Cooper liked her, and he was defying the direct order of his mother by seeing her. Perhaps he was just the rebellious sort.
Speaking of Cooper…
She scanned the crowd, but given how close she and Archer were to the fire, it was hard to see anything in the darker reaches of the party area. Cooper had said he’d come, and she believed him, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
Archer had been saying something Lou had missed entirely because of her eager search for Cooper, and when she returned her attention to her host, he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, not even pretending she’d heard him.
“I asked how you were liking Poisonfoot so far. I didn’t get a chance to ask when we talked earlier.”
“Oh.” She sipped her beer again to give herself a little extra time to think, then bit her lip.
“Don’t answer all at once, now.” He laughed.
“I like it,” Lou blurted. “I mean…it’s so different from what I’m used to. It’s just…it’s taking some time to get adjusted.” She shrugged, hoping he understood what she meant. “But I do like it. And the people are really nice.” If all went well, he’d listen only to the compliment and ignore the length of time it had taken her to come up with it.
“You’re from California, right?”
“Fresno, yeah.”
“This has got to be quite the change of scenery from Fresno.”
A breath of relief whooshed out of her, and she was grateful to Archer for letting her conversational faux pas go without comment. “Yeah. No easy access to the ocean. No California weather. Even the light is different. I don’t know how to explain it, but in California the light has this pretty, buttery-yellow quality. It’s amazing. I miss that.”
“Well, one day you should come out here, and I’ll take you into the cow field for a proper Texas sunset. I think you’ll find there are a lot of things here to like, too.” He winked, and there was no mistaking it. Archer Wyatt was flirting with her.
“That sounds really nice.” It did sound really nice. She didn’t have any expectations of such an evening ever happening, but the thought of seeing the sun set across a big field did have a certain appeal to it. Except she wanted to share that moment with Cooper, not Archer.
Lou looked for him again, trying to be subtle about it.
This time she spotted him hanging back from the group. He’d changed from his dress clothes to a more casual look—jeans and a maroon T-shirt—and his expression told her he couldn’t be more miserable. One of the guys from the team walked up and gave him a pat on the shoulder but didn’t linger to talk. From what Lou had seen, the Cooper-Archer combo had been responsible for winning the game, yet no one was treating Cooper like a celebrity.
During her brief conversation with Archer, no fewer than five people had come up to tell him what an awesome game he’d had. She hadn’t been able to see Cooper for most of that time, but she had a feeling he’d received far fewer congratulations.
What the heck was wrong with the people in this town? Cooper was a total sweetheart, and they treated him like he was one of the creatures from Swamp Thing. It was like he carried a disease and people were afraid to catch it. Lou couldn’t wrap her head around how a guy as cute, nice, and genuinely cool as Cooper could be treated like the dirt underfoot.
Weren’t bad boys supposed to be appealing? If rumor had it Cooper was no good, why didn’t that make him more popular?
“Excuse me,” she told Archer. “Thanks again for the beer.” He’d gotten closer while they’d been talking and was near enough he might have touched her. She took a step away.
“Sure. Don’t be a stranger.”
She didn’t reply, making a beeline across the clearing, out of the warm circle of light from the fire, and into the dark ring around the edge. Cooper watched her the whole way, his eyes unreadable in the shadows. When she was standing in front of him, he finally smiled.
“Making friends?” His voice was tight, like it hurt him to ask her that.
“People are nice.” She repeated the words she’d used with Archer.
“Be careful around him.”
“I’ve been told the same about you.”
This time he didn’t force a smile, he just nodded. “You were.”
“If I made the same snap judgments about Archer other people make about you, that would be pretty shitty of me, don’t you
think?”
Cooper seemed to contemplate this, then nodded. “I guess I didn’t look at it that way.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Archer did make her nervous, after all. “But people were wrong about you, and I’m glad I didn’t listen. I think I’ll stick to making personality calls about people on my own.” She gave him a smile so he’d know she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, then a surge of boldness made her ask, “Out of curiosity, are you asking me to steer clear of Archer because you’re jealous?”
Cooper sputtered. “Jealous?”
“Yeah.”
“Of Archer?”
Answering a question with a question. Classic deflection. Her mom used to call her dad out on it all the time, especially when he’d been busted eating food he wasn’t supposed to. “Cookies, what cookies?” he’d ask, the front of his shirt bearing the telltale evidence of chocolate chip crumbs.
There were no crumbs on Cooper, but the way he was dodging her question made her think she was right to assume he did like her. The thought buoyed her, making her feel giddy and weightless.
“Should I be jealous?” he asked.
“Only if you want all the high-fives he’s getting. He’s nice enough, but he’s not my type.”
Back in California, Archer would have been her exact type. In fact he bore a remarkable resemblance to the last crush she’d had—tall, blond, athletic—but things had changed.
“What’s your type?” A grin settled over his lips.
“Tall. Handsome. Obnoxiously incapable of answering questions. Prone to spacing out in chemistry class. Preferably drives an ugly truck.”
“My truck isn’t ugly.”
“Man, you’re full of yourself. Out of that whole list the thing you latched on to was ugly truck?” Lou laughed and took a sip of her beer, still not sure if she was ever going to like the taste of it. She could never drink more than one, and afterwards her teeth felt like they were coated in little beer sweaters.
