Honorable Disgrace

by Stephanie N. Pitman

  By halftime we’d scored several touchdowns along with a couple of field goals, our score twenty to zip. My eyes fixed onto number 35’s retreating back as the players ran back to the locker rooms.

  I tugged at JJ. “Let’s go get some grub. I’m starving.”

  “Didn’t you eat dinner?”

  I shook my head.

  JJ flipped her long hair back, a few red strands fanning back to frame her slim face. “You seriously need to start eating better. Nutrition is second only to training. How do you expect to do well at our match next week if you won’t eat?”

  “I haven’t been hungry.” I shrugged. I hated to think my lack of appetite had anything to do with Cory, but it started about a week ago, after that day in practice.

  “Whether or not you’re hungry, with how much weight we lift, you have to fuel your body. You are going to—”

  “Okay, okay, Coach JJ.” I laughed. “I’ll try to eat better.”

  She eyed me sharply. “You can start tomorrow. Nothing from the concessions can be counted as food.”

  “Okay. Tomorrow,” I agreed with a smirk.

  As we neared the concessions window, I pulled the last of my summer money from my pocket. The expense of my school clothes had really cut into my cash. I slipped a five from the pitifully sad wad, muttering about my finances before cramming the remaining money back into my pocket.

  “What?” JJ asked.

  “I’m gonna have to get a job.” I paid for my soda and nachos and stepped aside for JJ to order her food.

  “There are worse things, you know.”

  “Yeah, like what?”

  Her response was lost in a surge of noise. A few brave Belknap Bronco fans had ventured over to the concessions, some of our more stalwart supporters harassing them. I watched the altercation with detached curiosity, my attention drifting to Cali Johnson who stood to the side of the troublemakers.

  She chatted animatedly with her friends and paid no attention to the squabble, her perfect golden skin, perfect long hair, and perfectly petite figure making me feel dowdy and awkward. I wished I could hate her. She always had the best of everything. A great car, beautiful clothes, captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, with the eye of any guy she wanted. Today at lunch while she talked to Cory, her fairy-like face lit up with laughter. At that moment, I almost hated her. But her honest, genial attitude wasn’t an act. We’d worked together as volunteers with the Special Olympics team over the summer. She really was a great person.

  I shifted and smoothed my borrowed top over my horrendously expensive jeans, now way too short for my long legs. I wanted to cry when I’d pulled them on, fresh from the wash, to find they had shrunk. And I’d only worn them twice.

  “Hey, are you okay?” JJ asked, holding a huge soft pretzel in one hand.

  “Yeah.” I mentally shook myself out of my pity party. “What took you so long?”

  “Oh, they ran out of pretzels. Had to wait while they warmed up more.” Her mouth full of food, she shrugged. Cheese clung to the corner of her mouth and her tongue flicked out to lick it off.

  We walked back to the stands in companionable silence. The team returned as we climbed the metal steps. My attention on the field, I failed to notice Liz had returned. And she’d brought company. Liz sat astride a familiar figure, kissing him like she was trying to devour him.

  Liz smiled up at me, daring me to say something. I frowned at her and Alan, my ex-boyfriend, the one she’d messed around with while we were still dating. My chest felt tight and I pressed my lips together. I wanted to leave, but instead I ignored them and chatted with JJ, Beth, and Rachel while we waited for halftime to end.

  Liz huffed. Apparently, this was not the reaction she wanted. After another few moments, Liz stood. “Come on, Alan. Let’s go.”

  I didn’t watch them slither way.

  The players returned to the field and play resumed, the bright lights reflecting off their helmets. The Bronco’s started out hot, dashing to the end zone. Cory closed in on the fullback and dove, plowing him into the ground barely a foot from crossing the line.

  The last quarter passed rapidly, the Bronco’s trying valiantly to catch up, but we pulverized them—the final score 41-6. I danced along to the victory cheer led by the Cougarettes, my eyes locked on Cory.

  He leapt into the air, his teammates hoisting him onto their shoulders along with a few other key players. I could sense their adrenaline and I felt a surge of confidence. I had to talk to him, to congratulate him on his victory, to be near him. Maybe JJ was right. Maybe he did like me. Maybe I had been stupid not to listen to her.

  “Angie,” JJ shouted, “where are you going?”

  “I’ll meet you at the car,” I hollered back and sprinted toward the school. I didn’t want to stop and second guess myself or I’d wuss out.

  I barely made it, panting from my run. Cory approached, his helmet tucked under his arm, his hair plastered to his head, sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked unbelievably sexy. And he was completely unaware of me. Drinking him in, my breath caught when he looked up and saw me. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed slightly around the edges.

  “Cory, you were amazing.” Still caught up in the surge of excitement, I forgot my insecurity and flung my arms around him.

  “Whoa.” The abruptness of my hug knocked him off balance.

  I gasped, the realization I had just thrown myself at him hit. A tingling heat rose up my spine and across my face. “Oh, sorry.”

  He grabbed me as I began to retreat, and pulled me closer. His lips curved into a crooked smile. “Hey, Angie, how are you?”

  “I’m … good.” I smiled back. Tendrils of excitement stirred in my belly, his arms solid around me. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”

  “I’m incredible now?” He raised his brow. “I thought I was amazing.”

  “You’re both.” I hit his chest and laughed. “So, what are you going to do now?”

  What a stupid thing to say, what are you going to do now? I felt the rumble of his laughter.

  “Shower. I kind of need one.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I backed away, my body prickling with nervous energy. “Well … I guess I better go and let you do that. Just wanted to tell you good game. So, good game, I mean, bye.”

  I turned, my hands curling to keep from smacking myself.

  Footsteps slapped the pavement behind me.

  “Ang.” Cory caught me by my arm, his amusement unmistakable as he called my name. “Wait, I want to talk to you.”

  “Cory, quit messing around and get in here,” Coach Harrington hollered out the side door, his gaze pointedly on me. “We’re waiting on you!”

  “Be right there, Coach.”

  The sound of the door snapped closed and Cory drew me to him. He brushed the back of his hand lightly down the side of my face and lowered his head and then stopped. I held perfectly still, an army of butterflies suddenly awakening, fluttering wildly in the pit of my stomach.

  His breath warm and measured as it hit my cheek, the light pressure of his hand on the small of my back, his luminous blue eyes staring so intently at me it made my head swim. He was achingly close, leaning toward me. If I lifted my chin ever so slightly his full lips would touch mine.

  His lips grazed mine. I held his gaze for a hairsbreadth and then closed my eyes. He kissed me slowly, gently, the skin of his lips rough against mine, delicious shivers spiraling down my spine.

  I angled toward him. A moan escaped as he drew back. I wanted more. My heart slammed against my ribs, the full force of his breathtaking smile directed at me. His eyes smoldered.

  “I have to go,” he whispered, the deep rumble of his voice stirring the butterflies again. He cupped my cheek, and then jogged off. A few steps away, he stopped. “Hey, can I call you?”

  “What?” I shook my head. He wanted to call me? I quickly changed the motion to a nod. “Um, yeah.”

  He flashed another brilliant smile and waved before h
e vanished through the door. I touched my lips and softly rubbed them. Exhaling shakily, I laughed as I hurried back to JJ’s car, my mind dominated by one thought.

  Chapter Four

  “Finally.” JJ leaned against her car, arms folded, face drawn tight. She pushed off and muscled her door open. “What took so long?”

  “What are you, my mother? It’s only been like fifteen minutes.”

  “Yeah, you said ten.” She held her hands mockingly on her hips.

  “Whatever.” I laughed and hauled open the door.

  A grin on her face, JJ ducked into the car. “What were you up to anyway?” JJ turned the key in the ignition and the engine protested. She cranked the key again. The motor turned over and over. On the fifth try, it rumbled to life.

  “Oh, I …” My eyes flicked to the lighted entry of the gym doors and my stomach fluttered. “I wanted to congratulate Cory on his game.”

  “And give him a victory kiss, perhaps?”

  “You saw that?”

  “Yeah, I saw that.”

  She laughed and knocked the car into gear. It jerked forward roughly.

  I threw my arms out and braced against the dash, and then was flung back into the seat. “Easy there, turbo.”

  “Sorry, this stupid shifter’s been sticking.” She wrapped her fingers around the curve of the oversized steering wheel and pulled onto the highway behind a white pickup that looked like more of a ghostly gray in the faint light of the almost full moon.

  We followed in the wake the truck, the two red points of its taillights growing smaller as it outdistanced us. On either side of us, dark farm fields stretched, empty but for the stubbly remains of wheat stalks or the even rows of plowed dirt. Intermittently, a house would spring up from the darkness to break the monotony of the landscape, some with outbuildings, barns, and farm equipment clustered around them.

  A smirk on her face, JJ sang, “Cory kissed Angie, Cory kissed Angie.”

  I swatted at her, unable to stop a smile. My lips tingled at the memory of his lips on mine.

  “I told you he liked you.”

  “Yes, you’re so smart.” I laughed

  JJ turned onto my road, her profile lit by the dim glow cast from the dash. The lights from the porch shone brightly across my yard, my parent’s seated silhouettes visible through the thin curtains.

  I exited the car. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She nodded and raised a hand in farewell. “Night.”

  “See ya, JJ.”

  Sounds of the evening news filtered out as I went up the walk. My mom and dad sat close together on the sofa and looked up with a smile. My dad looked like he hadn’t been home long, his jeans dirty from the potato fields.

  He turned the volume down on the TV and asked, “How was the game?”

  “It was good.” My thoughts on Cory, I didn’t hear my mom.

  “So, who won?” My mom leaned forward. “Angie?”

  I gave my head a little shake. “Oh, we did. By like thirty points.”

  “That’s great.” My mom looked like she wanted to say more, but she looked at my dad and then just smiled up at me.

  “Yep. I’m tired so I’m gonna head to bed.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and leaned over, first giving my mom, and then my dad a hug, “G’night mom. Dad, good to see you.”

  I covered a yawn.

  “You, too. Night, hon.”

  “Goodnight,” my mom called.

  Gliding down the stairs, I flipped on my bedside lamp. The soft glow cast my room into shadow. I plopped onto my worn comforter and stared at my ceiling. Switching on my iPod, Bruno Mars’ melodious voice sang out, lamenting about love. Propping my pillow against the wall, I snuggled down under my covers and opened a book. The words swam before my eyes.

  I let the book fall to my chest and burrowed into the blankets. My mind was too hung up on Cory. Sighing, my body relaxed, my thoughts turning into dreams of his strong arms around me.

  ><><><><><

  “Angie, telephone,” my mom hollered.

  With a groan, I fumbled with the covers, my brain still stupid with sleep. Rubbing at my eyes, I froze. Had she said phone? Who in the world would be calling me this early on a Saturday? And why weren’t they calling my cell? And then I remembered. Cory. Was he calling me already?

  I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time, the foggy haze of slumber evaporating in my rush. I yanked the phone from my mom and paused long enough to give her an apologetic look at her narrowed frown. It had to be him. Who else would be calling my home number? Before answering, I sucked in a lungful of air and tried to calm my frantic pulse—as much from the frenzied charge up the stairs as from the impatience to talk to him. It didn’t work. I still sounded breathless when I said, “Hello?”

  “Hey, Angie. How are you?”

  The voice was male, but it caused my heart to plummet. What did he want?

  “Why didn’t you call my cell?” I said, tight-lipped.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t answer it.”

  “Exactly. What do you want, Alan?”

  “Hey, settle down. Last night didn’t go—quite how I’d planned. I came by to apologize for how things ended. Between us.”

  “Yeah, you looked really sorry attached to Liz like a suckerfish.”

  “That wasn’t my fault. She kissed me first.”

  “Oh, poor boy. It looked like it was torture for you.” My mom peered around the corner at me. Why was I even continuing this conversation? “Really, what do you want?”

  “I want a chance to explain what happened with Liz and me.”

  “I really don’t care. Stop calling me.” I hung up the phone and sighed.

  My mom looked up at me from the table, her shopping list in front of her. “Everything alright?”

  “Just stupid Alan.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m expecting a phone call and I don’t think he has my cell number. I thought that was him.”

  “Him?” She laid her pen down and faced me.

  “A guy from school.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Cory.”

  A half smile played around her lips. “The same Cory you’ve had a crush on since junior high?”

  “Yeah.” A slow grin warmed my face.

  A waft of cold air escaped as I grabbed the milk from the fridge. About to take a swig, I caught my mom’s look of reproof. I sighed and pulled a glass out of the dishwasher.

  “And what’s Cory supposed to be calling for?”

  “I’m not sure.” I slid a slice of bread into the toaster and leaned against the counter, chewing on my bottom lip. “Mom, can I borrow the car today?”

  “What for?” Back to work on her list, she didn’t look up.

  “I need to look for a job.”

  My mom lifted her head. “I was planning to use it, but I guess you could—if you pick up a few things for me.”

  She usually did her errands on Friday, but she’d been called in to substitute yesterday at the elementary school. Most of the time, she didn’t have to work, only subbing a few times a month. My dad’s job was good, farm manager for the biggest potato farmer in the area. A decent wage, health coverage for the family, two full weeks off around the winter holidays, and all the potatoes you could eat. But for nine months out of the year, he was hardly around, working from before sunup to after sundown six days a week, and then the rest of the year he was still gone until early evening.

  It really sucked.

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Just bring it back full this time.” She handed me her shopping list with half a dozen other errands and some money. “And, please, be careful.”

  “I will.” I rushed downstairs, my toast and half drank glass of milk forgotten.

  Half an hour later, I was showered, dressed, and out the door. I wasn’t sure where exactly I was headed, but I had the car, even if it was an awful pastel pink.

  I’d called JJ to see if she wanted to tag along, but she was up to
her elbows in grease, working on their family tractor, according to her mom. I pictured her as I’d often seen her, hair tied back with a ratty bandana, maybe even a bit of grease smudged on her cheek, a cluttered array of wrenches and parts around her. Her dad had wanted a boy, but he got JJ and her sister instead.

  We lived ten minutes out of the small town of Bannack, Idaho, the familiar drive just long enough for me to devise a plan of action. And in less than twenty minutes it was executed. Or almost.

  I sat with seven applications in the parking lot of the local pizza joint and waited for it to open so I could get one more.

  I shuffled through the apps: cashier at the grocery store, cashier at the hardware store, cashier at the tractor supply store, cashier, cashier, sandwich artist, and cashier. I pulled one out at random and sighed. It was, surprise, a cashier position. The one from the small hardware store. I grabbed a pen from the glove box and filled in my name. Halfway through the second app—the sandwich artist—the open sign blinked on in the window in front of me. I completed the application and climbed out of the car.

  The door jingled when I pulled it open, and a husky voice with a slight accent called out from the back, “Be right there.”

  I waited at the counter, unprepared for the arrival of the owner with the deep voice. He was gorgeous. I blinked rapidly and experienced a flutter of guilt at the thought of Cory, my traitorous heart hiccupping. I shook my head. I could look. It wasn’t like Cory had asked me out. He’d only kissed me.

  But he’d kissed me. I rose up on the balls of my feet, and bobbed up and down at the memory.

  Where Cory was fair, blonde and blue eyed, this guy was the complete opposite. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, his face chiseled and angular. And right now those darks eyes were focused on me, brows slightly raised. “Can I help you, mamacita?”

  I’d heard enough Spanish in the halls at school to know he was either calling me mama or gorgeous. I was pretty sure it wasn’t the former. I dropped my gaze and, cheeks blazing, mumbled, “Could I get an application, please?”