Southern Girl

by Lukas,Renee J.

  * * *

  Ivy parked with Cobb at Cutter’s Ridge. It was on the outskirts of town—many miles out, in fact—a place where teenagers went to escape from their parents. With its view of the town lights below and the stars, which were closer up on Cutter’s Mountain than at any other spot around, it was the perfect place for romance and doing things that would give most parents heart attacks.

  Cobb was kissing Ivy, his breath shorter and quicker as his fingers found the buttons of her blouse. She pulled back abruptly.

  “We can’t,” she said, grabbing his hands.

  “We already did.” He was sweaty and breathless.

  “That was the last time…for a while.” She lowered her head somberly and looked out at the twinkling lights below. “I love you,” she added softly. “But my daddy’ll kill me.” Not to mention that she’d gotten her first C…

  “Why?” He wiped his brow.

  There was silence.

  Cobb took a deep breath. “Listen, Ivy, when I look at you…I see my whole life, our future. Our kids runnin’ around…”

  “Okay now, stop. Right there.”

  “What’d I say?” He looked puzzled at her.

  “I’m gonna graduate,” she said, as if she’d practiced it a million times.

  “So? I love you, Ivy.” He began pleading his case. “I want to marry you. So you’re in college. So what? We can still get married.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “I was thinkin’ about veterinary school after.”

  “Okay. What’s the problem?”

  “I figured you’d be tending to your dad’s farm, and you’ve already got me lookin’ after our nine kids…”

  “I never said nine.” He cracked a little smile.

  “I want a career. I can’t be too…distracted.” Those weren’t her words, and they didn’t feel exactly right coming out of her mouth.

  “Do I distract you?” he asked playfully, undoing more buttons on her blouse.

  But she pushed him back to show how serious she was. “With you,” she continued, “I figured maybe you’d want…I don’t know.” Ivy wasn’t as confident in Cobb’s opinion of her having a career as she’d let her sister believe. “You’d want me to drop out and help tend to the farm and have babies.” She saw the comical smile that spread across his face. She realized that the thing she had feared most didn’t exist. Maybe her father’s disapproval would be the only obstacle.

  “I want you to do whatever you want,” he said, kissing her again.

  She inhaled the musky smell of him, a scent that excited her. It was a mixture of sweat and faded cologne. She held his face in her hands, yielding to his mouth even more…maybe he’d tell her anything tonight to get laid. But maybe it was the truth. She decided to believe him, as she arched her neck back, enjoying the play of his lips down her throat. Before long, their clothes were off and the windows were steamed so much that no one could see inside the truck.

  Chapter Forty-One

  In November, the basketball preseason began and with it team practice every afternoon. The team had been chosen, mostly veterans with a few freshmen girls as alternates. The coach was particularly hard on the new players. “You don’t get the right to wear the green and white unless you’re a fighter!” she had shouted during tryouts. “It takes fight, it takes guts, to be on this team.”

  Coach Drysdale’s reputation for screaming at players didn’t exactly attract girls to the team, but the team’s successes did. Jess had long wondered about the coach’s past. She looked as though she’d fought in a million wars and not just because she had been in the military. The lines around her eyes suggested there had been many personal battles as well. Jess never expected to find out what those were. At the same time, Jess wouldn’t have been surprised if she showed up someday on America’s Most Wanted.

  In practice today Jess was on fire. Even when the coach had her double-teamed, she still managed to dart around the two defenders and make her way easily to the basket. She was in her “sweet spot,” that place where everything felt effortless and the looks on the faces of the coach and the other players couldn’t be described. For all of her insecurities about public speaking, among other things, it was at times like this when Jess was overcome with a feeling of liberation, like everything was really within her reach.

  “Gather ’round!” Coach Drysdale called finally, and the tired team dragged itself over to the gray blob with the whistle. She took a breath, cleared her throat. “Okay, listen. I know what I say about teamwork, but in the first exhibition game I want you to give the ball to Aimes.”

  Kelly’s eyes skewered Jess, drilling into her for a longer time than usual. Her jealousy was palpable, and while Jess looked away, she still felt it.

  “What about the eight formation?” Jess offered, reminding Coach Drysdale of a play they’d been practicing for weeks.

  “Scrap it. That was only if you were double-teamed,” Coach Drysdale said.

  “You know she’s gonna be,” Lisa Kelger said. She rarely spoke at practices, so everyone took note. “It’s so predictable. I mean, c’mon. They’ll know we’re givin’ her the ball, so any fake we do won’t fool ’em.”

  “Excuse me?” Coach Drysdale’s nostrils were flaring. Smoke would be coming out next. “Who’s the coach here?”

  “I know,” Lisa said, as though she’d heard it many times before.

  Giving her an almost crazy, wide-eyed stare, the coach dared her to say any more.

  “The real trick would be to have everyone focused on Jess while someone else shoots,” another player said.

  “Yeah,” Jess chimed in eagerly.

  “Well, that’s all well and good,” Coach Drysdale snarled. “And that’s just what we’d do—if anyone on this team besides Aimes could score!”

  Jess winced. The coach probably didn’t mean to, but she was setting her up as a target for sure.

  Coach Drysdale stood with one hand on her hip, the other squeezing her whistle. “If y’all were the coach and you had a player who’s automatic…who never misses…who would you give the ball to at clutch time?”

  There was silence.

  “Now get outta my face!” Coach Drysdale waved her hands dismissively. “Bunch of whiny babies. Never in all my life…” She had a way of dismissing everyone that could make them feel unworthy of being on the court—or of breathing.

  The locker room was always an awkward place for Jess, but today there were hushed conversations that stopped immediately when she came in. Even Kelly wasn’t trying to pretend to be her friend. Worse yet, the school had installed new cement partitions in the showers—but unfortunately no curtains. Someone had said the reason was to make sure no one was doing drugs, but one of the girls overheard the coach yelling at someone on the phone about “slashing my budget,” and how the girls’ team wasn’t treated as fairly as the boys’ team. It only fueled the girls’ animosity toward the school for its lack of support. If it weren’t for The Green Machine girls, there would have been no trophies in the display case, and yet they got no curtains and little or no publicity about their games other than the rivalry with Fullerton in December.

  Damn shower partitions. Jess would have been fine with riding home on the bus while still sweaty, but now everyone was expected to shower. For her, showering at school constituted five minutes of terror—being shot by a firing squad of tepid water and then, clad in a flimsy towel, having to rush to her bench to change into her clothes before anyone could see, or even worse, start talking to her.

  She was getting ready to put her socks on as Fran approached. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “I think you’re awesome.” Fran patted her on the shoulder in support.

  “Thanks,” Jess said. “I don’t agree with her, you know.”

  “I know. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad.” Fran shot a quick glance in Kelly’s direction. “She’s always got a stick up her ass.”

  Jess smiled as Fran scurried away. To he
ar the girl who was always bubbly say such a thing…Jess was relieved to discover that she wasn’t the only one who knew the truth about Kelly.

  “Who’s got a stick up her ass?” Kelly asked, coming over.

  “The coach,” Jess said quickly. “I was tellin’ Fran it’s too predictable. Everyone will know who to go after.” She pulled on her socks, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

  Kelly was powdering her face in a compact mirror. “She don’t care,” she replied with a bite in her voice. “She loves you.”

  Jess had no illusions about Kelly Madison. Ever since she crossed paths with Brittany in grade school, Jess had had a strong sixth sense about people’s character. Within seconds of meeting someone, she instinctively knew if they were a kind person, an opportunist, a sneaky manipulator…Whatever the person most tried to hide, Jess would sense it before anything else about that person. It didn’t work as well on family members because she was too close to them. But for everyone else, she was like a human lie detector. From Kelly, she detected deep insecurity and a desperate need to be popular—definitely not a good combination.

  Most everyone else saw Kelly as a pretty girl with big hair and a high-pitched laugh. Jess saw her as a coiled-up snake, waiting for an opportunity to strike. The confusing thing about such people, Jess knew, was that even snakes could sometimes be fun, as long as you weren’t the target of their venom.

  As Kelly double-laced her sneakers, Jess watched her and considered trying honesty. “Kelly,” she said. “It’s not my fault.”

  “Oh, I know.” Kelly painted on her smile again. She patted Jess’s shoulder in a way that made her skin crawl. “You should be so proud, you know. You’re so good. You are!”

  Obviously, honesty only brought out more of the fake Kelly. Jess filed that away for future reference.

  * * *

  That night, when her mother headed to the store for something that she needed for the next day, Jess begged to go with her.

  “What for?” Carolyn asked, which, with her accent, sounded more like “What fah?” Then she added, “There’s nothing exciting about getting sour cream.”

  “I was thinkin’ I could check out the new record store,” Jess said.

  “Me too!” Danny ran into the kitchen. No one had ever seen him move so fast. He reached in his pockets and pulled out some bills. “I wanna pick up some Journey.”

  “You have everything they ever did,” Jess argued.

  “Not Frontiers,” he corrected, as though he were a music scholar.

  Their mother looked annoyed. “Okay, but I don’t want a long excursion. After I find the sour cream, we’re going home.” They nodded eagerly and followed her out to the ugly car.

  The new record store, Spin Shop, had opened up in the plaza near Rooster’s Food Emporium. It was right beside the Slurp ’n’ Stop, and would become another popular place for teens to congregate.

  As they pulled up to the store, Carolyn told them they could go to the Spin Shop but only for as long as it took her to find her tub of sour cream. She was notorious for getting more than one thing no matter what she said she was going for, so Jess and Danny were hopeful they’d have plenty of time to browse.

  Inside the store they fanned out, Danny to his “rock” section and Jess madly searching for the Crystal Gayle tape with that song so she could play it at home. Luckily, she found the “country” section and the tape she wanted just before she spotted her mother peeking through the windows.

  Once they were back in the car, Jess pulled the cassette out of the bag and sniffed the cover.

  “Weirdo,” Danny said, giving her a look of disapproval. “You really should quit that sappy shit.”

  “Danny!” Their mother waved her forefinger back and forth. “No.”

  “Let me introduce you to some real music,” he said, pulling out his Journey Frontiers album.

  “Yeah,” Jess replied. “I know what your real music is. ‘Give you every inch of my love,’” she mocked. “Please. It’s pornographic.”

  “Don’t hate the Zeppelin,” he said with full-on, immature self-importance.

  “What’s pornographic?” Carolyn was alarmed. “What did you buy?”

  “Nothin’!” Jess called back, glad she hadn’t heard everything. Then she glanced at Danny’s latest prize. “At least they don’t suck as bad as Led Zeppelin.”

  “You wanna talk about sucking?” He pointed to her tape.

  “You’re not fit to lick her boots,” Jess barked.

  “What are you two talking about?” That was the last question their mother asked before it got very quiet in the car.

  When they got home, Jess put the tape in her Walkman and played it, especially “When I Dream,” over and over. She hit the rewind button so many times, she was afraid she’d break it. She had other tapes and albums, of course, but this was her new favorite. She’d lie on her bed, listening in her headphones, closing her eyes, and remembering where she was and who she was with when she first heard it. A melody could hold such power, connecting her to thoughts and feelings that otherwise were scrambled up inside her. With each note, there she was, tugging at Stephanie’s bedroom carpet, avoiding her eyes. She struggled to remember all the details of that night, but they were lost in the haze of excitement and nervous energy she always felt in her presence.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jess’s trip to her locker the next day changed her life.

  It started out with something she hadn’t expected to find first thing in the morning—one of Stephanie’s neatly folded notes waiting for her. The lines were obviously from a page in one of her notebooks. It made Jess smile. She hurriedly unfolded it, anticipating the familiar handwriting in blue pen…

  It read:

  “Jess, there’s something I want to tell you. I can’t say it out loud, so I’m writing you this letter. I love you. I didn’t mean to, but I do.—Stephanie”

  Her heart leapt to her throat; she was dizzy with emotion. This was the first note Stephanie had signed with her whole name, not simply “S,” which only underscored the significance of the message. Jess couldn’t cover her smile. Lost in the clouds, she absently placed the note back inside her locker, shut the door and leaned against it for a long moment. She would remain delirious and terrified through the rest of that morning.

  In Mr. Purvis’s class, Jess could see his mouth moving under his scraggly mustache, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. She couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor under her desk. She was flying to some unknown place, a place where judgment didn’t exist, where she was free to feel.

  “Today’s the last chance to do your oral reports,” he warned, staring at Jess.

  But his words had no impact, like feathers floating off her shoulders. She gazed out the window, daydreaming.

  “Okay then.” He shuffled some papers and began the day’s lecture.

  In the hall afterward, Jess was still contemplating Stephanie’s note, what those words meant, what she could do about them and how she felt. She already knew the answer to the last one.

  Her daydreaming was interrupted by Kelly buzzing in her ear. She was out of breath from running to catch up with Jess, who couldn’t see or hear anyone today.

  “What are you wearing tomorrow?” Kelly asked frantically. She had a habit of asking about Jess’s outfits for the upcoming week because she didn’t trust her own ideas.

  “I don’t know,” Jess responded with her usual irritation. She’d already forgotten yesterday’s strategy, to try to get along with her. “Why don’t you go bug Fran?”

  “You have a style, like you don’t care.”

  “’Cause I don’t.” Jess kept walking, oblivious to Kelly’s urgency.

  “Can I ask a huge favor? I gotta skip history and study French. I have a test today, but I left my book at home. Can I borrow yours?”

  Jess, still distracted and dreamy, answered, “Yeah. It’s in my locker.”

  Kelly took out her notebook and scribbled down Jes
s’s locker combination.

  * * *

  At lunch, Jess carried her tray to her usual table, where her teammates sat chattering. Today’s buzz was about the new mystery food they had tried to spring on everyone in the cafeteria.

  “It surely don’t look like pizza,” Fran complained. Fran was always hungry, and she’d begun to complain that the school was starving her. It was dampening her usually sunny mood.

  “That’s why I never buy my lunch,” Lisa said with more than a hint of condescension. But nobody envied her lunches, because they were mostly carrots.

  As Jess came closer, she felt a strange vibe from Kelly—stranger than usual, anyway—but she ignored it and started to set her tray beside her.

  “I don’t think so,” Kelly snapped, throwing up an arm and making sure others at the table heard.

  This immediately got everyone’s attention.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Fran asked.

  “Oh, she knows,” Kelly said mysteriously.

  “What’s your problem?” Jess threw her tray down in spite of the arm Kelly had extended to block her. She retracted it quickly. The girl could be dangerous to others, but she herself didn’t like physical pain.

  “I’m not the one with the problem.” Kelly’s eyes darted to everyone, sending them the message that she knew something big about Jess. Really big.

  “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Jess was losing patience with Kelly’s stupid games.

  Kelly leaned into Jess’s ear. “You’re a queer!” she hissed before she ran out of the cafeteria.

  Everything began to spin. Jess couldn’t hear the voices at the table. Instead, a cold, sinking feeling engulfed her, replaced by raw fear. What did Kelly know? How did she know? Jess had no choice but to leave her tray and take off after her.