by Bri Stone
“Mine is back home. They only come when we play A&M because they hate them, and UT Austin because they went there.” Jim is from Austin, and both his parents went there too.
“Well, the tailgate bonfire is still on for after the game down at the field house,” I say.
“If your girl is here, just ask her to come. Group events make everything easier.” Daniel smirks when we pull up to the gas station.
I clear my throat and laugh, “Okay. Right.” I shake my head and check the time, we have to be there in ten minutes.”
“Hurry up, I can’t be late.”
We both look at Jim and flip his quarterback ass off at the same time. I walk inside and thank my lucky stars because there she is again. Leaned over the front counter instead, this time with no headphones in either.
Melinda.
Her aura makes me stop in my tracks because of how deep I can reach inside myself when I’m near her. And I’m shocked by how stunning she looks in just a yellow tee shirt, with her hair tied up and out of the way. It exposes the brown, translucent skin of her neck, the softness of it. I moisten my lips and step forward and it’s the sound of my shoes that get her to look up. When she recognizes me, I think I see a small smile, but it’s quickly replaced by her cute little scowl.
“Me again.” I smile and step up to the counter. She stands up fully and looks me over, taking in my gameday shirt, which is just a black athletics shirt, and my choice of dark joggers.
“You again.” She sighs. I missed her voice, the sweet belly sound mixed with her sometimes sour tone.
“Thirty on pump…shit.” I gruff and go to check the number and see Jim and Daniel wave like the other two Stooges.
“Pump five,” I say when I get back.
I watch as she twists her lips, works the register and glances at me when she doesn’t think I’m looking.
“So how was the first week of your classes?” I ask her.
“Fine.”
“Do you usually go to the games?” I ask her, although it may be a dumb question since she is here.
“No. Do you?”
I can’t tell if she is being sarcastic or not, so I joke with her. “Sometimes.”
When she looks at me, I smirk and catch her gaze. I see her eyes narrow as she thinks to herself.
“Aren’t you… on the football team?” She finishes like she wants to say something else.
“Yeah, I am.” I glance at the clock again, fuck if I’m going to be late this is the most I’ve heard her speak.
“How funny.” She prints the receipt and I take it, brushing my fingers over hers on purpose and I swear I feel the other half of my nerves in her hands.
“I try. When does your shift end?” I lean my forearms on the counter, the closer I get the easier it is to catch her scent. Sweet, and sugary.
“Later.” She crosses her arms and purses those damn fine lips. I draw my gaze from them and down her body before I meet her eyes, still skeptical as they look at me.
“Okay, Bumblebee.” I flick the edge of her bright yellow shirt sleeve.
She scowls as she leans away.
“There’s a tailgate bonfire at the field house tonight for the first game, I want you to come with me.”
She blinks twice as she looks up at me.
“There’s food and alcohol. So, if you find me unbearable, you have a fail-safe.” I wink at her.
I see her swallow and bite her lip as she looks away. I think for a second that I might get through to her before the guys start honking the horn at me.
“I think that’s for you.” Melinda deadpans.
I can’t help but laugh from my gut as I look at her. I glance out to see Daniel pumping the gas, and Jim ticking off his watch in the back seat to try and make me go faster.
“I have a second. So, will you come?”
She sighs. “I have a lot of studying to do.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“It’s molecular biochemistry.”
“Oh. Okay. So that’s a hard, no?”
As she starts to speak, the horn goes off again. Shit, it’s the first game, I can’t be late. I hide my defeat with a smile as I step away.
“Okay. I’ll see you around then. Do I get a good luck kiss for the game?” I smirk.
Her eyes roll, but she fights a smile. “You’re still a stranger.” She shakes her head once.
“Yeah, but in the south, things are a little different,” I say as I take her hand before she notices, but she doesn’t pull away when I clasp her hand and kiss the back of it, and I leave her with that.
I jog out to the truck where the guys scowl at me, Jim more than Daniel though. Either way, I don’t give a shit because I can still taste the sweetness of Melinda on my lips.
Coach is in the face of every d-lineman because we are only up by one touchdown and the other team is right on the five-yard line to the end zone. The d-line has to hold that line back like our lives depend on it, and it’s up to me to keep the wide receiver and running back from being able to make a catch.
These are the tough moments in the game that I live for.
When we retake the field, every bone in my body itches for the victory, for the endpoint, and every muscle wants to get us there. Their QB calls off, and it lasts three seconds. The shift, the contact, the holdback, and the look in the other lineman’s eyes when he sees they lost. I don’t revel in it, but I know the damned look and I hate when it’s on my face.
“Now, you play like that for the rest of the season, and every team in the states is going to want you.” Coach is in my ear as we walk back to the locker room.
I swing my helmet in my hand as I nod eagerly. “Thanks, Coach.” He goes off to give more players a report on the way back in. The students have rushed the field, the music is blaring in the stadium speakers… it’s officially game season.
Back in the locker room, my phone has messages from Momma, all the usual stuff she sends me on gameday. She is the first woman with my heart, but I’ll be damned if I don’t say Melinda’s good luck kiss is the only thing I can attribute the win to. I wish she had said yes, and I wish I could just see her again.
If I knew why I was so hung up on her, maybe that would explain all this, but I don’t. I just think of her and it feels better than a win, better than a good harvest. Melinda feels like the new excitement I never thought I would have again.
I’m hounded by the d-line and some hollering, as usual after a game.
Things don’t calm down until I shower, throw on my old green Baylor shirt and jeans, and head to the tailgate with Jim and Daniel.
Jim goes over everything, as usual. He isn’t much into the game since he isn’t going pro, but his college stats are still important to him. Daniel really is just along for the ride. He started playing to get his dad’s attention and it didn’t work, but he still liked the game, so he stuck with it.
If there was anything I learned in college, it was that everyone has a story. Hell, I want to know what Melinda’s is.
“So, you were in the gas station for a while, what happened?” Daniel nudges me with that look.
“Nothing, she doesn’t seem like that type of girl. I asked her to come tonight and she said no. That was pretty much it.” I shrug with disappointment. I’m exhausted and hungry, Powerade isn’t working anymore.
“What does she look like?” Jim asks.
I smile to myself. “She’s fucking gorgeous. Got the prettiest little eyes and thick curly hair. Shit, I think she might be a princess or something, maybe that’s why she doesn’t like me very much. She’s black, maybe she doesn’t go for white guys.”
Jim laughs. “That isn’t it man, trust me.”
“You never know, I mean we are in Waco,” Daniel adds, and I feel Jim glare at him.
I don’t mind though because it was only a passing thought.
“Shut up. Look, just give her time. I’m sure you’ll see her again.” Jim pats my shoulder.
I feel better gett
ing my annoyance off my chest. I don’t think I’m some guy who can get any girl, but shit it’s never been this hard if I tried. But deep down I know I will appreciate it later if things go my way.
We stop off at our house for a bit, driving through the block party and accepting all the congratulations before we make it to the door. Once inside, I take a breather on the couch that turns into a nap Daniel wakes me up from when it’s time for the tailgate. We always go together anyway, so we pile into my truck. I realize I’m always the one driving and it makes sense I’m always getting gas.
The scene is the same as ever. Three huge fire pits, people everywhere, music, food, the embodiment of college culture.
I park near a good exit, we head in and go our separate ways after a little bit. I do some mingling with some guys I’m loosely friends with on the team, some girls from the squad and spirit team too. I’ve known all of them for four years now, especially the other seniors.
I head for the fresh lemonade and catered Chick-fil-A, two sandwiches get my stomach to stop growling. The lemonade gives me energy and I meet Jim and Daniel back in the crowd. It’s hard to think this will be over in a year, that this part of my life will be over. But it’s a good thought, too.
I think I kick around for about an hour before I get bored and wander away to a quieter side of the field. Once I do, I know the stars are truly on my side.
The moonlight is casting down on the green field where Melinda stands by the fire; looking amazing in a tight pair of jeans, and long-sleeved white college tee. Her wavy brown hair is down and flowing in the little breeze, and when she sees me she turns and the wind whips across her face.
“You came.” I meet her. Standing next to her, as I tower over her, she fiddles with the sleeve of her shirt as she averts my gaze.
“I… got off my shift early. Congratulations on the game.” Her voice is soft, and I itch to hear it against my ear, closer to her.
“Thanks, it was your good luck kiss that did it.” I wink. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah.”
I tell her to wait and go grab her a lemonade.
“Hope you like lemonade.” I hand her the cup and motion for her to sit with me, but I don’t miss how she contemplates the cup of lemonade, before walking over with me.
The bench near the fire sets a glow over everything, the only other people on the other side are just making out, but I don’t pay much attention to them. Just Melinda.
I look down at her sipping her drink and lick my lips in response. She is just so dammed pretty.
When she sets her drink down she turns slightly to me, the glow from the fire hits her profile. “You’re staring at me.” She states.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” I grin.
She blinks at me twice before looking down and laughing once without smiling. It’s like… no one has ever called her beautiful before.
I clear my throat to break the tension. “So, give me the whole spiel; you know, when people meet in college.”
Her lips twitch with a slight smile. “Okay.”
“You don’t have to, but I want to get to know you.”
“I… I honestly thought you were a creep before. But… when I found out you were the same Pete Buchanan everyone talks about, I got even more skeptical.”
“Why?” I cock my head to the side at her.
She sighs. “I don’t know.”
“I’m just a regular guy. A farm boy trying to make it to the pros. I majored in hydraulic engineering because I wanted to learn something that would help the crops and I have a big family. Maybe that’s me in a nutshell.”
I nudge her after a moment, the heat of her skin seeping through our clothes. She bites her bottom lip and her shoulders tense, but she clears her throat and ignores it. Her arms go behind her as she leans back, stretching out her legs and I look up her body back to her face.
Damn.
“I’m a senior, but I’m much younger than everyone else, so that’s weird sometimes. I’m a Philosophy major and a pre-med student, so medical school and all that is down the line.”
“How old are you?”
“You aren’t supposed to ask a woman that.” She deadpans. I laugh bodily.
“Okay, well I just turned twenty-two, so maybe I’m old. I did an extra year for football. My family farm is really close to here. Are you from around here?”
“No, I’m from Compton.”
“That’s far.” I scoot closer to her and she doesn’t move away.
For a moment I am heavily inclined to just steal a kiss under the moonlight, but I’m dead set on not scaring her away.
“I wanted to get away.” She looks off beyond me and is done with that.
“So, are you at least old enough to drink alcohol?” The cackle of the fire erupts around us, a crowd gets louder as they try to start it back up.
She giggles, a real one, and it makes me smile. “No. I’m twenty.”
“Jeez, so you came to college when you were sixteen?” I feel the heat of the fire on my face turned against it, but with the chill of the air too.
“I graduated high school early.” She twists her lip and leans in closer, I see the tension come and go in her gaze.
I see every speck of brown and hazel in her eyes. It nearly makes me dizzy just looking at her. When the wind grabs a little wisp of hair on her cheek, I can’t help but to reach out and tuck the strand behind her ear. She tenses up but doesn’t move away.
“Sorry,” I say almost to myself as I curl my finger around her ear and move it away, back to the safety of my knee.
“It’s okay just… you surprised me.”
She laughs once and smiles. Guess I have to be ignorant to get her to smile. “It’s complicated.” We stare at each other for a little bit, ignoring the noise around us and living in our own bubble.
Hell, I never thought I’d see her outside of the gas station, but here we are.
“So why did you say no at first? Besides thinking I was a creep before.” I lean forward.
“Hmm. I don’t know.” She lies and it’s easy to tell that she does because her voice changes.
“Is it because I’m white?”
She giggles, “I’m supposed to ask that question, according to society.” Sarcasm laces her voice.
“You’re not white.”
She shoves me playfully and laughs, “You know what I mean!” She squeals under a laugh, and I laugh just from her laughing. It’s amazing to hear, like it doesn’t happen often and I can feel it.
“No, that wasn’t it. I just… I don’t do people very well. I like to keep to myself and be left alone.”
“Why?”
“So, people don’t ask me questions.” She looks right in my eye and it’s hard to tell she isn’t joking for a bit.
“Fair enough. I won’t ask you too many questions.” I stand up and she almost looks sad when she thinks I am leaving. “Dance with me.” I hold out my hand. She frowns a bit, her brows drawing together as she looks at me. “It wasn’t a question, so come on sweetness.” I grin, the sound of the music around us gets louder as I pay attention to it. I muffled it out before, only wanting to hear her voice.
Melinda looks at my hand like it’s unknown before she finally takes it and stands with me. We get a mainstream country song, where I’m allowed to draw her close and sway with her, just for a little bit. Long enough for me to feel how her body fits against mine, how her head stops right on my heart. The way her hands feel on my back, her body setting me aflame. I lean down to inhale her scent, memorizing it. My blinks are long when I sink into her presence, but when they open I see the warm shadows of the bodies around us.
She draws her face up to mine and I meet her eyes, warm like the fire. I smile, still moving with the music until I just stop. Until everything stops. It’s… one of those things I’d sound dumb trying to explain. So, I don’t, I just let it wash over me like the second-best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I say secon
d because damn, I want the first to be our wedding day. I feel it then, the undeniable urge to see her, talk to her, touch her… it isn’t going anywhere, ever. It has to be just her, because I never knew I’d need the crazy, sappy stories my sister told me about. That imagining my wedding day would happen before I even knew it was coming.
I hold her face, my rough hands over her soft skin and I trace her lip with my thumb. Her eyes stay on mine as I lean in for just a small taste, for only a second of bliss living on her lips. I get three seconds to feel them on mine, another two to feel her lips tighten around mine before it’s gone.
Melinda pulls away and gasps, touching her lips like they’re foreign to her and I feel the dam break before I see it.
“I—I have to go.” She pulls away, and I take her hand.
“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something…”
“No, I just… I have to go.” Her eyes soften as she pulls away and I’m left standing there alone.
Staring after her like a fool, watching her disappear into the crowd. I’m stunned in place because I don’t understand this feeling. All I can wonder is why it feels like part of me has left too.
MELINDA
* * *
No one has ever seen me like this. Not even my best friend, not even him.
I couldn’t hold this in, I knew I had to talk to her, listen to her advice. Something had to be better than everything that is going through my head. Perrie knew more of the story in the little snippets I told her, so I didn’t have to explain why meeting Pete again was so intense.
“I can delegate any autopsies and come down there.” She whispers.
The audio of the speaker picks it up though because the Skype call is coming from my television monitor. She can see me on the couch, huddled in my blanket under the dim lights. Though it took me a while to get through everything while I was sobbing.
“That’s okay,” I rasp.
She sighs, “I could, really. You… you were there for me when I was—in this similar situation.”
“I’ll be fine. I just… wanted to talk to someone.”
