Waiting on the Sidelines

by Scott, Ginger

  “So, summer job, huh?” he said, looking at me for a second or two. His words startled me I was so lost in my own neurotic head.

  “Oh, uh… yeah,” I nodded. Silence was starting to settle in again. I had to fill it. Talk, Nolan. Talk. “I just want some extra cash, you know? I want to be a little more independent. Buy my own gas, maybe get a phone that isn’t some off brand that no one’s ever heard of,” I joked.

  “That’s cool,” Reed said. I looked over and noticed his forehead pinching together some under his glasses, almost like he’s thinking.

  “I guess it’s hard for you to work during the summer even, huh? I mean, not that you have to… but you totally could, if you wanted. I mean… I’m sorry, I’m rambling,” I was doing that thing again where I stop making sense.

  Reed just laughed. Finally, he responded. “Actually, a job might be nice. Something flexible. I still have a lot of summer drills and workouts. And coach wants me watching tape a lot this summer. Things are really going to get intense. And I’m just a junior. My senior year is going to be ridiculous.” He let out a heavy sigh and then turned to me with a tight-lipped smile.

  “You can do it. Just take it a day at a time, right?” I said, patting his thigh once like he was a child. I pulled my hand back in my lap immediately, embarrassed by my bold and hokey gesture. “Just turn on Riggs Road up ahead. We can take that all the way to the aquatics center. I don’t think my interview will be long if you don’t mind waiting for me.”

  “No problem at all. I’ll come in, too. Check the place out,” he said.

  Just then my phone rang. I pulled it from my purse and looked to see Mike’s name.

  “Sorry, it’s my brother. I have to take this, and yell at him for never being helpful,” I said. Reed just laughed.

  “Hey, you sorry excuse for a big brother,” I half-joked.

  “Nolan, are you OK? I’m so sorry. I didn’t even have my phone on. I was with Samantha and it was a late night, so…” he tried to continue but I cut him off.

  “Stop. Stop. I don’t need to know. I’m OK, no need to alert the authorities,” I joked.

  “Well, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up somewhere?” he asked.

  “I’m good. Buck Johnson drove by and he hauled the car in. He sent Reed out here to give me a ride. He’ll just bring me home when I’m done,” I said quickly, hoping Mike wouldn’t dig too deep or tease. No such luck.

  “Ooooooh, I see,” he chided. “So you’re in the car with Reeeeeeeed,” he kept going. I pressed the phone tightly to my ear, hoping like hell Reed couldn’t hear any of Mike’s end of the conversation. I was turning redder by the minute. I just needed this phone call to end.

  “We’re almost here, so I gotta go. Don’t tell Dad anything, he’ll just worry. I’ll explain when I get home, ok?” I said.

  “Yeah, yeah. Call if you need me, though, OK? I promise I’ll pick up this time,” he said just before hanging up.

  I put my phone back in my purse and snuck a sideways glance at Reed to see if he heard any of that. He was smirking a little, so my gut told me he did. I sank down a little in the seat and hugged my purse.

  The pool manager’s name is Todd. He’s looks like a PE teacher, with his short hair and shiny sunglasses. He’s nice enough. He directed Reed and me to a back office right off the main entrance where we sat on an old sofa and he propped one leg up, half sitting on his desk with a clip board. Chewing his gum, he pulled his sunglasses off and tucked them in the front of his shirt. “So, cashier, huh?” he looked at me.

  “Yes. Though, I’d like to test for your next lifeguarding session, if that’d be possible. I would really like to work my way up to that,” I said wringing my hands. I was a little nervous.

  “Well, you’re in luck. We’re actually testing tomorrow, if you’d like to join us. I just need you to fill out this paperwork. I see you have the right CPR and First Aid certifications, so if you pass the tests, you can start this week. We’re short on staff and I need to get staffed up pretty quickly. We’re opening a new section this season and we’re going to be pretty busy.

  “You testing, too?” he added, looking over at Reed. Snapping his eyes up to meet the manager’s, Reed then turned to me, looking for approval. I just shrugged and smiled, but inside I was begging him to test with me. The thought of spending an entire summer working alongside a shirtless Reed Johnson was too much to handle.

  “Yeah, I’d love to,” he said, taking the packet of paperwork.

  “OK then. When you’re done filling this out, leave it with Penny up front and then we’ll see you tomorrow at 6 a.m.” he said, shaking our hands as he left.

  When the door shut, Reed stared at me with wide eyes and mouthed ‘Six A.M.’ I just laughed and started filling out my paperwork.

  When we were done, we dropped our packets off with Penny at the front desk. Penny was an older woman. She spent most of her day answering the phone, it seemed. She took four phone calls all in the span of our stop at her desk.

  “See you two tomorrow,” she said with a wink as we turned and headed for the parking lot.

  We hopped in the Jeep and pulled back out to the main road. I settled my bag and purse down between my feet and adjusted my seatbelt, which was all twisted. Then, the thought struck me. How was I supposed to get to the testing tomorrow? I didn’t have a car. I’m sure Reed wouldn’t mind taking me, but I really hated imposing. I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a bit then turned to face him.

  “So, since we’re going to the same place… do you think maybe I could hitch a ride again in the morning?” I said, hating to ask for favors.

  “Uh, yeah. I just sort of thought I’d pick you up. You know, to get here in time we’ll need to leave at 5, right?” he said.

  “Yeah, I’m good with that,” I groaned a little. We both laughed and then Reed pulled off the road into a nearby shopping center. A Starbucks. How desperately I needed that.

  “I’m buying, whatcha want?” he said, hopping out and flipping his glasses up on his head.

  “Vanilla frap?” I said. He smiled back with a thumbs up and headed inside.

  I pulled the visor down to open the backside mirror and check my face. My hair was a little tangled from the Jeep ride so I tried to brush out some of the knots with my fingers. My nose and cheeks had a pink sunburn on them, nothing bad, but I definitely needed to lotion up good tomorrow. Especially if I was going to be in a pool most of the morning. Reed came out while I was finishing up my untangling. He stuck his arm through the open door across his seat and handed me my frosty cool drink.

  “Mmmmmm, thanks,” I said. “I love these. Like a dessert with a little kick.”

  After he climbed in and planted his coffee in the middle cup holder, he reached back behind me, the tips of his hair brushing my shoulder as he leaned into the back seat. My breath stopped at the slight touch and I snuck a look at him, so close. He popped back up with a hat in his hand and then handed it to me. I looked at him, puzzled.

  “For your head?” he smirked.

  “Jack ass, I know that. Why are you giving it to me?” I said, smacking his arm with the back of my hand. I was getting more and more comfortable with our slight, friendly physical contact.

  “Your hair was tangled. I saw you working on it. Thought maybe you’d like this for the rest of the ride?” he said as I took the hat from his hand.

  “Oh, thanks,” I smiled. I pulled open the back snaps of a dark gray and maroon ASU hat. I smiled a little as I pulled my hair through the back and snapped it into a ponytail. The front was snug over my head and kept my stray hairs in place.

  “What’s this, UofA boy with an ASU hat,” I teased.

  “Hey, I haven’t made up my mind yet. But don’t tell my dad that,” he winked, and we were on the road again.

  We pulled up to my house at about 3 p.m. I hopped out before Reed turned the motor off hoping I could just run inside without him stopping to talk to my dad or get a good look at my house. B
ut he was quicker than I thought. His motor was off and he was next to me walking across the gravel in no time. I heard some slight noises coming from the side carport and we headed over in that direction to see my dad digging for some tools in the small shed by the back door.

  “Hey pops, I’m home,” I said as he jumped back, hitting his head on the shed door a little.

  Rubbing it, he set his tools down on the shelf and grabbed the dirty towel he left out here to clean his hands off after a little ‘tinkering.’ My dad was pretty handy. He really didn’t have reasons to always be fixing things, but he seemed to search them out anyhow. He had some garden lattice propped up by the wall and was digging out some brackets and paint, probably something my mom had put him up to.

  “Hey there, honey. You home already?” he said, slowing his voice a little when he realized I wasn’t alone. “Oh, hey, Reed. Nice to see you, son. What are you up to?”

  “Reed gave me a lift,” I said, trying to finish the explanation before my dad went into panic, you-had-a-crash, what-happened-to-the-car mode.

  “Are you ok? Did something happen?” he said, squeezing my shoulders and looking into my eyes like he was giving me some sort of concussion test. I grabbed his hands and squeezed them and then kissed his cheek.

  “I’m fine, daddy. Car just broke down, that’s all,” I said, filling him with relief.

  “Ohhhh, good. Well, guess we should go pick it up. Where’d you leave it,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his keys.

  I stopped him. “No, no. It’s good. Buck actually stopped to help me. I was just outside of town. He towed the car to the shop and then sent Mr. QB1 here to save me,” I said, trying to play it off like it was no big deal because I know my dad was going to feel guilty accepting the help and not saving me on his own.

  “Oh,” he looked down, then back up at Reed, reaching for his hand to shake it. “Well, thanks, Reed. Awful nice of ya. You’ll have to give me your father’s number, I want to make sure I thank him and find out how to pick the car up and what I owe him.”

  “No problem, Mr. Lennox. Really, never any trouble. And you probably should just say thanks to my dad and leave it at that. He… well, he pretty much never accepts money when he helps a friend. He’ll be offended, sir,” Reed said, smiling.

  “Oh, well…” my dad shook his head some more and then nodded, finally accepting it. This was hard for my dad, I knew. “Well, then how about we feed you some supper. That’ll sure make me feel a whole lot better. And my wife, Susan, makes an amazing roast. She’s had one going in the pot all day.”

  Reed looked at me for approval, but I was more panic stricken. I didn’t really want him to see the inside of my house. Truth be told, Tatum’s name calling of Trailer Trash was still with me a little. But, since I wasn’t objecting either, Reed just shook my dad’s hand again and said, “Thanks, I’d love to stay, sir.”

  “Please, just call me Rich,” my dad said, putting his arm over Reed’s shoulder and guiding him inside.

  We came inside through the backdoor, and thankfully my mom’s roast had filled the house with an amazing smell. It made my house feel even more homey, and I was hoping it might just distract Reed from our scratched cabinets, old countertops, worn carpet and scuffed walls.

  I dropped my purse and bag on the floor by the kitchen counter and guided Reed to the main living room. Our house was very open with the dining room and living space up front with giant windows that looked out over the handmade porch. The kitchen was set off to the back side and had a cute door with a country-style window on it that led to my dad’s ‘tinkering’ space.

  My parents’ room is at the end of the hall and then my room is to the right and Mike’s old room is on the left. Mike always liked having his window face the front because he could sneak out easily, his foot landing right on the porch. My window was over one of the only spaces without decking underneath, so the drop was a good eight feet below since our house was lifted up so high. I did have a huge walk-in closet, though, and my own entrance to the spare bathroom. For a girl, it was pretty perfect.

  I gave Reed the fast version of the tour, pointing to the other rooms in the house as we strolled the short hallway. He admired the family photos hung on the walls as we walked.

  “Hey, is this you?” he said, pointing to a family portrait that was about 10 years old. I was in a red velvet dress and my hair was in two pigtails on either side of my head. My bangs were short and cut in a perfect straight line, following my eyebrows. My socks were pulled up to my knees and my ankles were crossed showing off my shiny black saddle shoes. I have a vivid memory of the outfit, but not much else.

  “That’s me. I was pretty stylish at six,” I joked, hoping he wouldn’t take in too many more embarrassing childhood pictures of me.

  “You were cute,” he said, moving on down the hall. “It’s nice that you have these pictures. I don’t really have any of these. My parents divorced when I was in kindergarten and I really bounced back and forth until about fourth grade when my parents decided it was best that I stay with my mom. You know, for ‘consistency in my young life,’” Reed said, rolling his eyes.

  Sometimes I felt bad that he came from a split home. While he might have the fancy driveway and the rich parents, at least mine were under the same roof. And my parents didn’t miss anything in our lives, either. My mom had boxes in the attic filled with silly art awards, pictures, ribbons from field day, clay pots from grade school and more. I got the feeling that Reed didn’t have a box anywhere.

  “Hey, so this is your room then, right?” he said, a devilish grin as he leaned my door open.

  “Uh, yes it is…and we don’t need to go in there,” I said, grabbing for the handle in an effort to stop him. Too late.

  He flipped my light on and walked to the center of my room. I leaned against the wall by the door and my dresser. My room was pretty neat. I wasn’t your typical messy teenage girl, but I was still self-conscience about everything being on display for his judgment.

  “So this is where you are when we text at night sometimes, huh?” he said looking around. “This is where you pick out music and all the ‘magic happens.’” He was smiling like he was getting to see some special secret. Admittedly, I liked how it was making me feel. He turned to open my closet and walked in to flip through my things. He thumbed through the hangers taking note of the two very different sides of my closet. One half was filled with T-shirts and jeans, the other with cute dresses that I rarely wore.

  “You know, I like you better in this side of the closet,” he said, pointing to the more me side with denim and cotton. I blushed a little at his comment.

  He turned the light off and shut the door and I continued to watch him. I was trying to think of something witty to say, but nothing was coming to mind. I walked over to the window and slid the blinds up and cracked open the window to let in some air. “I like to sleep with it open at night. I like the way the crickets sound,” I shrugged, turning around to see him looking through the various bowls and boxes on my dresser now. Suddenly I gasped a little and lurched forward as he was lifting the lid to my old jewelry box. I felt like my knees were going to buckle underneath me when I caught myself on the corner of my bed. I just sat down and stared, fear stinging my eyes a little, with a touch of mortifying embarrassment. I watched as Reed pulled out the overly worn paper, the creases tearing a bit on the edges. I caught the smirk forming on the side of his lips when he looked at me from a side glance. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked.

  “Oh, uh… yeah, I guess. I don’t know. I forgot what I put in that thing,” I lied. I knew exactly what it was because I looked at that letter from Reed almost every night for two years. I gulped slowly, hoping if I did it slowly enough he wouldn’t hear it.

  He unfolded it and read over his own words just a little. He carefully folded it and then put it back in the box, replacing the felt lid once again. I just sat there motionless, watching his hands as he slid them in his pockets and tens
ed his arms just a little, his back to me. He slowly walked sideways, taking in other things in my room, looking at the pictures of Sarah, Sienna and me on my mirror. He ran his finger through the chains and necklaces that were hanging from the small hooks on my cork board. My aunt and mom had a tradition of giving me charms for my birthday, and I had saved every single one since my fifth birthday.

  I was starting to feel a little light-headed, probably from holding my breath for so long, when Reed slowly turned to look at me. I both anticipated and dreaded meeting his gaze. I looked down just before his face was looking at mine, staring at my shoes and fidgeting my feet together. I chewed on the inside of my cheek a little and then slowly looked up at him to find him wearing a warm smile. He came over and sat next to me, not too close, but close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. Thankfully, our silence was broken by my dad’s hollering down the hall.

  “Hey, Nolan! Bring your guest out on the porch when you can. I made some fresh lemonade and we can wait for your mother to come home. She’s on her way,” he said.

  “OK, be right there,” I said, leaping to my feet. I didn’t turn around once, just got to my door and said ‘come on’ over my shoulder, flipping my room light as I turned the corner and headed back to the main room. I could hear Reed’s giant shoes clomping behind me and cringed a little that the floor of my house sounded so hollow. Just one more nuance about living in a manufactured home.

  I stuck to my mission and flung the screen door open and held it out behind me waiting for Reed to catch up. When we got out on the porch my dad handed Reed a glass and then gave me one, too. “Taste this, son. Right from my own tree. Pretty good lemons this year, I’d say,” he said, toasting to his homemade creation.

  I stared at the McDonald’s glasses we were holding, freebies we’d scored years ago from some giveaway. Suddenly everything in my house didn’t feel good enough. I stomped over to the porch swing and sat down folding my legs up underneath me.