Waiting on the Sidelines

by Scott, Ginger

  Weekends were easy, it was when I was at school, in the same room, building, campus as Reed, that things were hard. I was waiting for it to get easier, waiting for something to happen. Waiting to forget the last words Reed had spoken to me. I wanted confrontation, but I suppose that had come and gone. All I had now was, well, the now.

  I couldn’t help myself, but I stole glances at Reed when he walked through the halls, looking for hints at his mood, all the while waiting for him to snap out of this spell he was under and remember he loved me, to pursue me, to chase me and claim me again. That never happened, though.

  Most of the time he was quiet, just floating from one class to the next, sitting and watching the lessons, not really participating. I had worried that his grades were slipping, but Sean told me he was still managing to ace everything and that he still had UofA and Stanford pursuing him. At least something was going right.

  Reed’s birthday had come and gone. There was no party this year, though Sean told me that Buck had tried to talk Reed into the annual barbecue. The UofA and Stanford hats I had bought him still lived on the top shelf in my closet, tucked away in a bag, waiting to be shaken out and delivered. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  I noticed that his Jeep was showing up in the parking lot at school again, and I was glad to see it fixed and in working order. It was a part of him, and it was the way I liked to remember him. His dad had put special plates on the back, UofA ones. I mused at his not-so-subtle act, also wondering if that was any indication of Reed’s decision of where he would sign for next season.

  The last Friday game was a week away. The school was set ablaze with the hype I’d grown accustomed to during the last four years. Streamers and banners were hung along the halls. Cheerleaders were decorating the football player’s lockers, many paying special attention to Reed’s. I thought about how I probably would have been the one to do that a month ago. But instead, I hadn’t spoken to Reed since the day I showed up at his door with his letters and my memories.

  He hadn’t texted. He hadn’t asked Sienna or Sarah about me. And he and Sean talked about football and nothing else. It was like the last three and a half years had all been a figment of my imagination, that we were nothing more than mere acquaintances. Less than, in fact, as even an acquaintance would make eye contact with me on accident once or twice.

  I spent most of my nights working on my memoir project. It turned out I loved my creative writing class. And after a few phone interviews and inquiries with the special education program at ASU, I found out I could specialize in reading and writing disabilities. For the first time in weeks, my mind was excited about something, and I even found I could forget about the hole in my heart every now and then.

  It was my turn to present in class today, and a strange part of me was eager to share something so personal. I had spent weeks working on my piece and had even shown it to our teacher, Mr. Bosch, in advance. He encouraged me to submit it for a scholarship award, so after perfecting it (with his brutal editing), I did. If I won, I would be able to pay for my room and board at ASU, which would be a blessing because as it stood now I was looking at driving two hours each day through the desert. I had earned a full scholarship for my tuition, but that was only half the battle.

  I sat in the back of the class with my notebook bouncing nervously on my knee. Reed’s desk was empty, and while I was worried because he never missed class I was also relieved. I wasn’t sure I could stand in front of the class with his eyes on me.

  We were nearing the end of our hour when I was finally called up front.

  “Miss Lennox,” Mr. Bosch called.

  I walked up slowly, opening my notebook and taking a deep breath to clear my nerves. Public speaking was not my forte. I cleared my throat a little and slid to sit on the stool at the front of the room, thankful I could at least not worry about my knees locking. When the classroom door flew open, I jerked back a little and immediately flushed when I saw Reed walking to his desk, right at the front of the class, directly in front of me.

  I swallowed, still looking down at my notebook, my hands fidgeting with the ringed binder. My nerves kicked into overdrive when I looked up again and saw Reed was smiling a little at the students next to him, his cast no longer on his arm.

  “OK, class. Settle down. Mr. Johnson, glad you could join us,” Mr. Bosch snarked.

  “Sorry…had a doctor’s appointment,” Reed stood, pulling a pink slip from his pocket and handing it over.

  “Yes, I figured as much. Nice to see your appendage is back to working order,” even Mr. Bosch almost sounded excited, and I was pretty sure he hated football.

  Reed sat back down and shuffled his feet a little, grabbing at the front of his desk and then settling his eyes right on mine. His brightness flattened a little and he bit his lip, embarrassed as he realized he had interrupted me. Heat rushed over my body and I forgot my entire purpose for standing up here. I was startled by Mr. Bosch’s throat clearing and shook my head a little trying to find my way back.

  “Uh, yeah… sorry, where was I?” my voice cracked a little. I snuck a look back at Reed and he was grinning at me, encouragingly. He hadn’t smiled in weeks, and certainly not at me.

  “Your reading, Miss Lennox?” Mr. Bosch said, leaning back against the wall near the classroom door.

  “Oh, yes. OK,” I cleared my throat again. It was only two pages, but I wasn’t sure I could do this. I was sweating standing up in front of the classroom.

  Deep breath…

  My grandmother believed in angels. Not the traditional kind. Her angels didn’t have wings, they weren’t ghostlike and they didn’t live in the sky. No. Her angels lived among us. She always said my mother was one. She said it was the way she looked after her family. Mom held us together when grandpa died, when grandma couldn’t pay her mortgage and when my brother broke his arm and we didn’t have insurance and had to drive hours away to find a doctor that would set his arm for what mom referred to as ‘the generic price.’

  Unflappable. Undeterred. Indestructible. Unwavering. All good words, but those are still human. An angel, though…well, an angel is something more. An angel knows your heart. And they know how to fix it when it’s broken.

  I paused ever-so-slightly, taking in a breath and willing my eyes to stay on my paper. I wouldn’t look up at Reed, but I knew these words were hitting him. They had to. They were hitting everyone.

  I have an angel of my own. She’s 10, and her name is Nancy. I met Nancy two years ago, and she gave my life purpose by giving it direction. Nancy has Down syndrome, and she’s fearful of many things. Mostly, she’s afraid of being alone. Turns out, so am I.

  Our first summer together, we conquered Nancy’s fear of water. Amazingly, she’s part of a swim team now and hopes to swim in the Special Olympics some day. As pen pals, we conquered her bullies. Young people can be cruel, and when they see someone with Down syndrome they also see an easy target. Bullies like to find where you’re vulnerable, avoiding the challenge and instead going for the easy kill. For me, it’s always been my family’s small bank account or the fact that I don’t like to wear a dress.

  I looked up now, noticing Reed was listening intently, his eyes focused on the edge of his desk, his knuckles white as his hands gripped hard and his feet shuffled with discomfort. I continued.

  Together, though, Nancy and I discovered that you can strip a bully of their power without even confronting them. All you need to find is your passion—something to love. For Nancy, it was swimming. For me, it was a boy.

  And so this is where my angel comes into the story. What do you do when your passion breaks and your heart is broken along with it?

  The boy I had been holding onto was suddenly gone. Not physically, but emotionally. I was lost. I’d been lost for a while. And I found myself on the road, driving to see Nancy. With her mom’s OK, I picked her up from school, and together we went for ice cream. Without much preparation, my angel went to work.

  “You look sa
d,” she said.

  “I am,” I was always honest with Nancy.

  Then Nancy put her small hand on the center of my chest and closed her eyes. Her act made me a laugh a little, prompting me finally to ask: “What exactly are you doing?”

  “I’m taking your sad away and making it mine,” she was serious, and I wouldn’t dare laugh at this. “You can have my happy for a while until I get this figured out for you and give you your heart back.”

  Hugging Nancy, I cried and realized that, up until now, I hadn’t done that yet. I had been holding my tears in, afraid to let them go. But now, as I did, I realized that maybe Nancy, my angel, had been my passion all along. And helping her, and kids like her, was what made me better than those who tore me down.

  Nancy had suddenly made me strong when I felt weak. She took away my alone. My heart? That’s healing, too. And loving someone isn’t what makes me special, it’s my ability to love…period…that sets me apart. At least, that’s what my angel told me.

  The bell started ringing just as I finished, but the entire class sat still. Uncomfortable, I just closed my notebook and slid from the stool and found my way back to my desk, my eyes looking down at my feet.

  Saving me from the discomfort of this awkward attention, Mr. Bosch started to talk, explaining our next assignment and dismissing the class. I finally breathed with relief when people started shuffling their backpacks and leaving the room. Reed was the first to go.

  Sienna leaned over as she was packing her bag and I noticed her eyes were glossy and red. “Holy crap, Nolan,” she whispered. “That was good. Like…really good!”

  I smiled humbly. I wasn’t good at taking compliments. “Thanks,” I said. “It felt good to write. I just sort of wish Reed wasn’t here to hear it. I think…I think I made him really mad.”

  Sienna just shrugged it off. But he left the room quickly, and everyone knew who the boy was in my story. I was pretty sure that I’d just fired a warning shot, however unintentionally, yet I had no want for war. All I could hope for was that the truth in my writing would be enough to win over the scholarship judges now. At least my heartache could earn me that.

  Reed ended up playing in the final game of the season, and as I predicted (and had promised him) he was just as good as he’d always been. Maybe even better. He threw for 350 yards with four touchdowns, and that was only in a half. It was certainly enough to keep several colleges interested, and Buck was back in business managing his favorite client.

  I went to the game with Sarah, but she took me home before it was over. I didn’t want to run into Reed after the game. Since I had read my piece in front of the class, I found myself avoiding him even more than before, something I was able to keep up for weeks.

  The holidays passed quickly. Calley was home for the break and after not talking to her sister for the first two weeks, Sarah finally gave in. I had forgiven Calley and wanted Sarah to, too. But my loyal friend took a little wearing down to get there.

  Sarah, Sienna and I were all going to ASU next year, and Calley and Sarah decided to move in together. It seemed that living with Tatum was too much, even for Calley. She had already moved out of their apartment and into a single dorm for the rest of the semester.

  I didn’t go out for track this season, deciding to spend my spring focused on my studies and scholarship applications. I knew I had a shot at the creative writing scholarship, but I didn’t want to hang my hat on that alone. My parents were sure they could cover most of my schooling extras, but I knew every little bit would help, so I took on a few afternoon shifts at MicNic’s, too.

  Both Reed and Sean had decided to skip track for the season, too. I knew Reed’s signing deadline was fast approaching, so I was sure he was spending every spare moment planning the best move with his dad.

  I had seen Reed in class and in the halls, but I always managed to rush by without making eye contact. I thought I heard his Jeep pull down my street one night, but when I looked out my family’s front window, no one was there. It had been months now since I’d heard his voice, and I could hardly remember the sound of it.

  I spent most of my spring break toiling away at the school library. The computer lab had become my working office and I had a goal of sending out one new scholarship packet each day. I had managed to score a few with my efforts, though most were only $50 or $100 stipends, barely a dent in the parking fees. But I kept moving forward since every check meant one less day working at the burger joint.

  My face was buried in my backpack, looking for my headphones, when I ran into Buck, literally. “Whoa, oh my gosh, you scared me!” I laughed a little, surprised to see a car other than mine at the school parking lot during the break. “Whatcha doing here?” I slung the headphones over my shoulder along with my backpack.

  “Just picking up some of Reed’s stuff. We have a workout down in Tucson,” Buck smiled, winking. “They want to take a final look. I think he’s got the starting gig locked up down there. I just hope I can convince him.”

  I smiled, my heart picking up a little knowing that Reed was just a few yards away in the locker room. I wanted to get inside before he came out. “Oh, I know if anyone can convince someone of something, it’s you,” I smiled, starting to walk past Buck, then suddenly halting when I heard his voice.

  “So what exactly is pops convincing me of?” I flushed and suddenly felt panic stricken. I turned around nervously, looking at Buck for a life raft. But he just grinned and threw Reed’s gear into the back and walked to the other side of his truck, leaving me to clean up my own mess, or leaving me with Reed at the very least. Yes, that man was tricky.

  “Ha,” I laughed cautiously, searching my brain for the right words. “Your dad just said he was driving you down to Tucson and making you walk back if you disobeyed.” Phew, that went ok.

  Reed leaned into the side of the truck, chewing on his gum and flipping the sunglasses from his eyes so I could see him. For the first time in months, they looked clear, the worry and anguish gone. He looked down at the bag now dangling from my wrist and then slowly up to my face, a smile shyly curling on one dimple. “Are you doing homework on spring break? You know, our grades don’t really matter at this point,” he was teasing me. God how I missed this.

  “Oh, ha…” I shuffled a little in my stance. “No, just scholarship work. I’ve got a lot of dorm bills to settle for ASU.”

  His smile started to fade a bit, but then he closed his lips tight and forced a renewed one. “Ah, yes. That other school in Arizona,” he joked.

  “Yeah, you know, the one where all the smart kids go?” I was joking right along with him, winking as I talked.

  “Reed, we gotta hit the road, kid,” Buck hollered through the window he’d just rolled down.

  “Ah right, hang on,” Reed leaned in to say to him.

  I stood there still, not sure of my next words, my next move, or if I’d be able to move at all.

  “I gotta go, but hey…” he was looking down, his brow bunched and a bit of a frown on his face. “Maybe… maybe I’ll stop by MicNic’s later or something? Sean said you’re working there right now?”

  I just nodded. He smiled back a bit and then climbed into the truck with his dad. I stayed frozen, watching them drive away. Eventually I found my way back to my car. There would be no scholarship writing today. I’d be lucky if I could concentrate long enough to fill out my first name.

  My shift at MicNic’s seemed to drag. I’m sure it was because I spent the entire time watching the clock and calculating how long it took to drive from Tucson once the sun set. But Reed never showed. I think maybe part of me knew he never would. But it was exactly this part of me, the one that was hoping, that concerned me most. This part of me had been numb for so long, this renewed self seemed so foreign. And I wasn’t sure if I could handle waking it up again.

  I was able to get a few good scholarship days in after all, and by the time our break was done, I had sent out 24 new applications. Something had to come of this work
. I was enjoying what was left of my break on the Sunday afternoon when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, since mostly Sarah, Sienna and Sean called me now. I thought about ignoring it, but instead I answered.

  “Hello?” I was a little guarded.

  “Hi, is this Nolan Lennox?” a woman asked on the other line. She sounded older.

  “Uh…yes. Who is this?” I was suspicious now, and I think the woman on the other line could tell as she started to chuckle when she spoke again.

  “I’m sorry for surprising you. My name’s Kendra Sharpe. I’m a reporter with the Gazette. I’m doing a story on Reed Johnson, you know, talking about his amazing high school career and the accident. We hear he’s signing with Arizona tonight and want do a full feature for the sports section, local hero kinda thing,” she was smart when she spoke. I was a little thrown. Why was she calling me?

  “Ohhhhhh… kay?” I said, still not sure what I had to do with this.

  She continued to explain. “Well, sometimes for these big profile pieces, we like to interview friends and family, just to get a full picture of who someone is, if that makes sense?”

  It did. “Yeah, I get that,” I said, waiting to find out what I could possibly offer.

  “Well, we know you were in the accident with Reed, and I was hoping I could just get your perspective on what happened…and how you think it affected Reed…” she was waiting, hoping I’d take the bait. But instead I was hyperventilating a little. I didn’t know how to do this, or even if I should.

  “I know it’s an uncomfortable thing to talk about, and I’m sorry to call you out of the blue, but you’re sort of my last piece to finish this article. I’d really appreciate just a few minutes,” she said. She seemed genuine, so I relaxed a little. I didn’t want to hold up the article, and Reed’s story was an amazing one that people should know. I was excited to hear that he was leaning toward Arizona, too.