Carter's Unfocused, One-Track Mind

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Carter's Unfocused, One-Track Mind Page 16

by Brent Crawford

“Why does lipstick have to taste so foul?!” Nutt asks.

  “You’re not supposed to eat it,” Doc explains.

  Everyone is adjusting their dresses in the reflections of car windows and feeling insecure, but I can hear the Merrian marching band starting to play our fight song, and it fills me with enough courage. I start to dance a little. “Come on, this is gonna be great!” I jump up and down a few times, and they seem on board again, so I say, “Let’s do this!” and start clomping toward the field house in my high heels. I’m feeling good until some softball chicks spot us and one of them yells, “OH MY GOD!!!” and the others start pointing and laughing.

  Nutt is wearing a very short, fitted white cocktail dress. You can see his whitey tighties peeking out from the bottom of his skirt. He was so proud of himself at Bag’s house, but he’s the first guy to really freak out. He doubles over and yells, “I can’t do it! Everybody can see my junk in this thing!”

  “That’s the funniest part of the outfit!” I say.

  Bag adds, “Naw man, I’m out too! Screw this!”

  “Oh, come on!” I protest. “The game’s about to begin, and EJ might get to start tonight. We’ve got to get in there!”

  “Let’s just wait for the seniors,” Hormone whines. “If they show up, we can walk in as a unit and it’ll be better.”

  I shake my head in disgust and embody my football coach when I yell, “Screw that! We are the unit! And we’re not following anyone or walking in there with our heads down. This is funny! We don’t need to apologize to anyone. If it goes bad…so what? Who cares?! We went down swinging. But let’s rock this, you bitches!”

  They don’t nod or say anything, but I think I’ve got them. I hope…I pray they’re following me as I lumber toward the gym and fling the doors open. I toss my platinum hair back and flash my student ID to a shocked Spanish teacher as I blow past her. The bright lights of the basketball court are blinding, and my high heels get heavier with every step. The band starts playing “We Are the Champions” by Queen, and I know it’s a sign (it’s also one of only three songs our band knows). My heart is pounding as I scan the crowd. I do not see the seniors, but a few people have noticed me and they’re pointing.

  I mutter, “You are the Champion!” to myself when both basketball teams stop doing their layup drills to gawk at me.

  EJ yells, “Oh no you di-in’t!?” and I notice that my boys are standing right beside me. We’re lined up like the proudest, ugliest Rockettes ever. A rush of drama department adrenaline washes over me, and I take off running around the court. I clomp around and blow kisses to the Nortest players and coaches. I grab my padded bra and put on my cougar voice (think Miss Piggy) and yell, “I’m looking for a stuuud!”

  I chase EJ around the court for a second and shout, “I’m gonna make a man outta you, boy!” Then I jump into the stands and start molesting a freshman dude I know from swim team.

  My boys are being a bit obvious. They feel the need to yell, “We’re cougars!” and “We’ve come to root for the Cougars!” as if our brand of humor is too subtle. The crowd is cracking up, though. My parents are here and obviously a bit embarrassed, but maybe kind of proud too. I catch Principal Banks chuckling as we dance around to the drum line’s beat.

  Our football coach is sitting high in the stands. I see him say something to his wife before smiling and giving us a sly thumbs-up. My friends have never felt this drama triumph before, and they’re digging it.

  Just before tipoff, the seniors walk in. They’re wearing dresses, but no wigs or makeup, and they’re pretty drunk. Not that it’s a competition, but we kicked the crap out of them. They’re still funny, but we totally stole their thunder.

  We all heckle the Nortest players together and ask why they never call us anymore. They try not to look at us or laugh, but I think we’re affecting their game. Merrian jumps to an early lead in spite of some bad shots by our point guards. A few minutes into the first half, the coach gives EJ a nod. He gets up and rips off his pants (perfectly), and we all go nuts. EJ tries not to smile.

  They feed him the inbound pass, and no one from Nortest bothers to cover the lanky sophomore, so he pulls up for a ten-foot jumper and drains it! We freak out like he won the state championship. A few plays later he nails a three-pointer, and it’s pandemonium in the cougar den!

  Everything is awesome until halftime, when Abby and the drill team take the floor. My boys and I are dancing along in the bleachers to Rihanna’s “Only Girl (In the World)” while the senior cougars go over to the Nortest side of the gym. They call their cheerleaders “ugly fatties” because they think it’s funny (but what a drunk finds funny almost never is). Some Nortest guys decide to talk to them about it, and punch them in their faces. It is a shock to no one, except the guys getting hit.

  Abby’s too busy busting a move to notice the brawl exploding behind her. She doesn’t see Principal Banks race-walking around the court, until the violence spills onto the hardwood and a gang of Merrian dudes breaks through her chorus line and she’s forced to stop dancing. Unfortunately, I am one of the reasons her dance was ruined, so she’s glaring at me as I run past her…as if there aren’t a hundred other people involved!

  I’ll apologize later, but I need to stay focused right now. We reach the Nortest side of the gym and I’m not really sure what to do. Fortunately, a guy I don’t know shoves me from the side and calls me a tranny.

  I try to stay on my feet and locate the guy who pushed me so that I can explain that I am an ironic cross-dresser, not a transsexual! But Andre is punching the dude’s lights out, so I’ll have to save the lesson. It’s a tornado of chaos and yelling. Another guy swings his fist at me from the other side, but I’m able to duck just in time. Thank you, fight club! I don’t swing back because I am a LADY (and I didn’t react fast enough). Somebody runs into me, hard, so I give the guy a shove that sends him flying…before I realize it was a very small girl. Someone clocks me in the side of the head and it stuns me, and really pisses me off! All I can see is blond hair, but I swing my right fist in the direction the punch originated, and I connect with something really hard. I flip the wig out of my eyes just in time to see Principal Banks collapsing to the floor like a wet noodle. In horror, I look around to see if anyone saw me pummel my principal, but everyone is too busy fighting.

  A Nortest guy almost steps on Principal Banks, but I push him off. The guy shoves me back and I tag him in the cheek. He stumbles and disappears into the fracas. I protect Principal Banks until five Merrian police officers come running over. They’re pissed (because they had to run), but all they do is toss guys around and yell, “Knock it off!” and “Get outta here!”

  I stay with the principal until his eyes flutter, and he asks, “What the—? Did I black out?”

  “I guess so.”

  When he seems okay, I casually walk back across the court, but I accidentally meet eyes with my dad. He looks super pissed and disappointed. I’m not sure if it’s the dress I’m wearing or the fact that I just knocked out an administrator, but I am ashamed of myself. The cops stand around the court for a while and talk to some teachers and the coaches. Eventually the Merrian band begins to play “We Are the Champions” for the fifth time, and the players retake the court.

  I try to just watch the rest of the game in peace, but Nortest guys keep flipping us off and making a bunch of other gestures that I don’t entirely understand. It seems like they’re threatening some sort of sexual violence. I’m sure we’ll find out after the game.

  21. THE OTHER QUIKTRIP

  EJ scored eight points in the game, and we beat Nortest by six. I think he deserves MVP. But before I can congratulate him, I have to go out to the parking lot and try to look tough with my friends, which is difficult in this dress. Thank God there are twenty police cars out front, so all of us cougars are free to have fun again. We wave at the Nortest guys as they pass, and use our cougar voices to say, “Better luck next time, y’all!” and “If you want to talk about anything,
just call!”

  All of my confidence drops when I hear trunk bolts rattling, but it’s not Terry’s Cutlass. It’s an old Corsica or something with a trunk full of speakers. I realize it’s a Nortest car when it pulls up to the curb and a drunk guy leans out of the passenger window. He’s pointing at me when he yells, “Meet us at QuikTrip in fifteen minutes! I’m gonna mess you up, tranny!”

  My heart rate has skyrocketed, but I’m able to keep my wits. In my own voice, I reply, “I’m not sure all of the cops heard you, tough guy.”

  Even some Nortest guys chuckle at my joke. Usually I think of my comebacks a couple of hours late, but that just came right out! Then I get cocky and say, “Just ’cause a guy’s wearing a dress doesn’t make him a tranny, dumbass!”

  EJ isn’t here to rein me in, so my dad does it for him. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and says, “Quit while you’re ahead, son.”

  The Corsica rattles away as Dad guides me around the side of the building, where my mom is waiting with her arms crossed. I might be in for a beat-down after all. She says, “Your behavior is unacceptable, young man!”

  If I wasn’t over six feet tall now, I’d think I was in for a spanking, but Dad shifts us into an adult conversation when he says, “This is what I was talking about in front of EJ’s house.”

  “Ummm…” I say.

  “When we talked about the fight club,” he clarifies.

  “Oh, yeah…yeah, remind me again…like, paraphrase what it was we were…”

  “You’re out here looking for trouble,” he scolds.

  “Naw, we’re just having fun.”

  “It was ‘fun’ when you ran around the court before the game, but these Nortest guys aren’t having fun anymore. They just lost, and you’re out here taunting them.”

  Mom adds, “Not cool.”

  “I didn’t start it.”

  “You’re smarter than that, too,” she scolds.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  “When you led your friends out onto that court in this getup, I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of you,” Dad says.

  “Seriously?” I ask. “Of all the crap I do to impress you?”

  “You’re a talented kid,” he continues. “You’re a leader, and people love you, but there will always be guys who will want to take somebody like you down a few pegs. It sucks, but it’s what men do sometimes.”

  Mom finishes his thought. “Don’t give anyone the chance to ruin your future, Will.”

  I nod that I understand. I know they want to say more. They want to remind me not to stay out too late and to put on a coat and look both ways before I cross the parking lot, but they shut it down and hope I’ll do the right things with what they’ve given me. As I walk away, though, my dad can’t help being a father for another second. “Damn it, what did you do to that dress?! Your mother has been saving that thing for—”

  “That is not one of my dresses!” she says. “It’s from the Salvation Army or something, right? Please tell me I don’t own something that terrible.”

  I assure her it isn’t hers, and they go back to their car while I go stand with my friends. I don’t taunt anyone else, and neither do they.

  I see Abby coming out of the gym with her duffel bag over her shoulder. She looks a little cranky, but I go ahead and approach. She’s stopped to talk to some drama kids, who seem to be consoling her about the ruined routine. They’re being all huggy and dramatic, so I go ahead and bust into their conversation to say, “Hey, I’m really sorry…about…what happened.”

  She glares at me, but before she can say anything, Kathy says, “That dress is fierce, Carter!”

  “You like it?! I got this baby for ten bucks!”

  “Why don’t you get lost?” Abby says.

  The drama kids gasp.

  “I’m trying to apologize to you,” I say.

  She scoffs. “Oh, it seemed like you were talking about yourself when you barged into a conversa—”

  Kathy tries to defend me. “No he didn’t!”

  But Abby continues, “We worked very hard on that routine, and you guys just—”

  “That fight was not Carter’s fault!” Kathy says.

  “Nooo…nothing is ever Carter’s fault!” Abby adds.

  “What the hell is your problem?” I ask. “I haven’t done anything to you…lately.”

  She rolls her eyes, so I say, “I’ve never hurt you on purpose, Abby. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to do. You made me apply to that school, and then you came back from your trip and just dropped off the planet. We hung out at that Nortest party and it seemed like things were good, but then we go back to just nothing for no reason. Why?!”

  It may be my outfit, or that my voice is kind of whiny, but people are staring at us. My boys sense a catfight and gather around.

  Abby replies, “I’ve never ‘made’ you do anything! I suggested that you apply to the New York Drama School because I know that it would be great for you—”

  “And you’re scared of going by yourself,” I add.

  She nods. “Maybe that was true.…Maybe I was under the impression that you were someone that you’re not. I wouldn’t go to QuikTrip with you now that I’ve seen the real you!”

  “The real me? How did you see that?”

  She’s so pissed that she can’t respond, and I don’t have anything else clever to say. Everyone is waiting for something big to happen, but they’re in for a long night if they think it’s going to come from me.

  Abby finally asks, “You really don’t know? You’re that stupid?”

  “No! Yes…Shut up, what the hell did I do?”

  She says, “What is the other thing I ‘made’ you do?”

  “The skinny jeans? God, I told you, they crushed my—”

  “Amber Lee!” she barks.

  I feel the eye shadow crinkle as my eyes widen. Ohhh, that! “Can we please talk about this in private?”

  Bag asks, “What did he do to Amber Lee?”

  “It is your baby!” Nutt yells. “You son of a—”

  “Shut up, dude!”

  “Tell them!” she shouts. “Tell your boys what you did with Amber Lee after homecoming!”

  I look down at my size-twelve heels and really wish I wasn’t wearing them right now.

  Abby continues, “Tell them that you took advantage of a pregnant girl!”

  Everyone gasps, and Nutt says, “Wooow! So unexpected!”

  “Hold up. I did not ‘take advantage’ of her! When you say it like that, they’re picturing me having sex with her.”

  “Why shouldn’t they?” she asks.

  “I guess I would rather they not…because it didn’t happen.”

  “Carter!” Abby barks. “She told me!”

  “Told you what?”

  “That you guys ‘hooked up’ on the banks of Grey Goose Lake.”

  J-Low asks, “What is it with you and that lake, Carter?”

  “Whoa, whoa! We did not ‘hook up’! We just made out a little bit.”

  Abby seems taken aback by this.

  “Still, dude!” Bag says with a disgusted face.

  I try to explain. “Oh come on, I didn’t…It w-w-wasn’t like I was…like—”

  “So, whatever it was wasn’t your fault, is that correct?” Abby asks, still angry.

  I put up my hand and glare at her to shut her up, but she knocks my hand down. It seems like she’s about to slap me or say something mean, so I ask, “Why didn’t you talk to me about this? Or at least get some clarification from Amber. I mean ‘hooked up’ can mean a lot of—”

  “Oh my God! You can’t take any responsibility? You lied to me, Carter!” she barks.

  “I did not! I just didn’t tell you because my…” (I really want to blame my sister here, but I don’t, because it was my decision.) I quietly say, “I…I didn’t want to hurt Amber. She’s got it hard enough, and I didn’t want to cost her a friend because of an insignificant mistake.”
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  Abby’s anger seems to be waning, but I can tell that she’s been mad about this for so long that she doesn’t know how to let it go. She says, “I just thought you would tell me eventually.”

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t, but I believe I did it for the right reasons. Amber is my friend, and my friends are ridiculously important to me; if you can’t deal with that, then I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re the asshole here for dragging this out in front of everyone just because you’re pissed at me. Amber deserves better.”

  Someone says, “Preach it, Dolly!” which reminds me what I’m wearing, and I feel like a fool, so I just walk away. I have no idea where I’m headed, but I know my cougars are right behind me. I’m cutting through the first row of cars in the parking lot when I hear their footsteps getting closer. A firm hand touches my shoulder and spins me around, hard. I instantly remember that I was almost in a fistfight a few minutes ago, so I draw up my hands to protect my face, but it’s Abby. And while she’s coming at me aggressively, I don’t think she’s going to hit me. “You don’t get to call me an asshole and then just walk away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t mean to have that conversation in public. I just wanted to ignore it forever, but you are so annoying. And I honestly love you. Nicky says I’m passive-aggressive.”

  “I know. And I love you too.”

  WHAM! She rams her lips into mine. Well, that was easy! She’s a great kisser, and really strong! I totally thought that was a dude spinning me around, but I will not share that thought with Abby.

  We’re able to make out for a few seconds before people start clapping behind us, and we start giggling.

  “I’m also sorry that I wrecked your routine,” I say.

  Abby says, “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  She punches my shoulder (ouch) and I kiss her again. Once the second round is over, I say, “I’ve missed that. What are you doing tonight?”

  Abby replies, “There’s a party at Christy Shauper’s house.”

  “Oooh, the Chopper. Uh, do you think I could join?”

 

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