Fantasy Football

by Jennifer LoGalbo

  Although it was dark out there was an adequate amount light from the street posts to luminate the inside of the truck and to get a glimpse of Trent’s knuckles. Two of his knuckles on his right hand had dark and crusty scabs on them. If only remembered to check in the restaurant, I could have done a two-for-one deal.

  “What happened to your knuckles?” I asked him.

  Trent released his grip from the steering wheel to take a peek, almost as if he wasn’t aware of the sores. “One of the St. Edward’s players stepped on my hand when I fumbled the ball in Wednesday’s game.”

  “But you never fumble the ball,” I said. I turned to Devin for a reaction. If Trent was lying, Devin would surely have a look of confusion on his face.

  “I think we were all a little shaken up after watching you get whisked away in an ambulance all unconscious and stuff,” Devin said.

  “It took a few plays, but we pulled ourselves together knowing we had to win one for the Gipper,” Trent added.

  I clamped my hands together, placed them under my chin and batted my eyelashes. “Awe, you fellas actually do care about me,” I said.

  Devin slapped my shoulder with the back of his hand and said, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to sneak a peek at Devin’s hands. His left arm was draped across the back seat behind me, and I couldn’t get a glimpse of his right hand with him scrolling through the sports page on his iPhone.

  Trent pulled into my driveway and I released myself from the seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride,” I said to Trent. “I’ll see you guys in school tomorrow.”

  Before I could escape, Trent kissed the top of my head. “Thanks for dinner tonight. It really wasn’t necessary.”

  “It was my pleasure,” I said, sliding out of the car. Devin held the door open for me and I pointed to the other side of my head, “Kiss.”

  Devin followed my command. “Ditto what Trent said.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Good-night, Parker,” Devin said getting back in Trent’s truck.

  I turned, stunned. “You called me Parker.”

  Chapter 13

  When I opened the front door, Emily was standing in the foyer peering over my shoulder.

  “Were you out with Trent and Devin?” she asked.

  “Yep. I was on a double date with them.”

  “Who was Trent’s date?” Emily asked with a tinge of jealousy in her voice.

  “I was,” I said with a straight face.

  Emily’s eyes glazed over and I heard her gulp. “Then who was Devin’s date?”

  “Again, I was. I did say I was on a double date.”

  I couldn’t help to razz my sister. After all, it’s what sisters were meant to do. It was part of the sister code, next to protect and defend. When I realized Emily stopped breathing I decided to let her off the hook.

  “I’m kidding, Em. I treated them, Boyd and Nikki to dinner tonight for watching over me when I was in the hospital.”

  “That’s cool of you,” she said on a sigh. “So does this mean you like Trent?”

  I shrugged. “He’s growing on me. But seriously, he’s not my type.”

  “Ruggedly handsome, buff and witty isn’t your type?”

  Why couldn’t Emily just let it drop? Her obsession with Trent obviously hadn’t died, despite what he did to her. Guess as a loving sister I needed to remind her of his flaw.

  “Emily, forget about Trent. He dumped you remember? People don’t change.”

  “You have.”

  Emily’s words wouldn’t stop travelling through my head as I dressed for bed. I changed into flannel sweats and a Cubs T-shirt, and brushed my teeth a billion times to mask the garlic butter taste that lingered from the escargot.

  I honestly don’t think people change unless they had a reason to. My changing was an exception to the rule. But Casey, Amber and Whitney haven’t changed. Since junior high they’ve been bitches. And why should they change? Girls feared them, yet yearned to earn their friendship, and the boys worshipped them.

  For what reason did Trent have to change? Despite the fact he switched girls more frequently than his socks; most of the girls he dated had no self-esteem and just wanted to be labeled as his girlfriend, even if it were for just one day. Trent knew the world was his oyster; therefore, no change was needed.

  I snuggled under my covers and opened my laptop, signing into my Facebook account. I usually try to sign on once a day to read everyone’s status and comment with something witty or corny.

  Kelley Silvers from my newspaper class posted the need for a new part-time job, saying if one more kid kicked her while wearing the Chuck E. Cheese uniform, she was going to kick them back.

  Willie Williams posted he was going to annihilate the Panthers this Friday night. I wasn’t surprised by his post, but I was amazed that Willie spelled annihilate correctly.

  I scrolled down a few more posts and my eye caught a post that I’d written forty-five minutes ago. It read that because I’m such a fugly slut, tonight I had to pay Trent and Devin to have dinner with me.

  Whitney added a response of: You forgot to mention whore as well.

  Casey had a comment of: It’s about time you admitted to your flaws.

  And Amber added her two cents of: I applaud you for taking those difficult steps to come clean.

  Holy Toledo, I got hacked! I wasn’t sure how, though. My password was unique and Barbie proofed, so I thought. But considering how only the three of them commented and no one else, it was my thinking no one else saw the post. And if they did, they were intelligent enough to know the Barbie’s were behind it.

  I deleted the post and changed my password to a few random letters and numbers that had no rhyme or reason to it. I then deleted Casey, Whitney and Amber from my friend list. If the Barbie’s thought for one second their childish antics got me rattled they were sadly mistaken. There was only one reason for their bullying; they were jealous by the attention I was getting from Trent.

  No one was on-line that I wanted to chat with, so I shutdown my computer and rummaged through my nightstand drawer for a book to read. I was in the mood for a fun read with romance and mayhem. It seemed to be my life story lately.

  Nikki honked her horn right on schedule. I hustled out the front door with two sausage links in hand. I draped my Cubs windbreaker over my arm in case the morning was chilly. I forgot to check the weather for the upcoming week and hoped the unseasonable warmth would continue until the end of October.

  I still wasn’t ready to give up short sleeves. I dressed for the day in blue jeans and a multi-colored T-shirt. Nikki was wearing a purple plaid blouse with a lavender-colored cami underneath, with dark blue jeans.

  “That’s a cute shirt,” I said, stretching the seat belt in place.

  “Thanks. Pac Sun has a buy one, get one free sale.”

  On the way to school I told Nikki about the Barbie’s hacking my Facebook page and that I wouldn’t be surprised if they defaced my locker or stuffed it with hundreds of hate notes.

  “Are you still packing wipes in that huge handbag of yours?” I asked.

  “Do you know what we should arm ourselves with?” Nikki asked with an excited tone.

  “More wipes?”

  “Probably.” She giggled. “No, silly string.”

  I smiled at Nikki. With being her best friend for so long I knew how her mind worked. “Nikki, you’re a genius. A simply mad genius.”

  “Thank you my dear friend. I do have my moments.” She angled her car in an empty spot a few rows away from the school. “We can stop at Walgreens on the way home.”

  “And we can conjure up a good strategic plan after school.”

  Boyd, Trent and Devin seemed to follow a morning ritual, which was leaning against Boyd’s truck waiting Nikki and me to arrive at school. All three of them were wearing their football jersey. That could only mean one thing: Pep assembly.

  “Hi,” Nikki said to Boyd, and then k
issed him.

  “Omigod!” I cooed. “You guys are boyfriend-girlfriend, how adorable.”

  I guess I shouldn’t have used the word adorable. It opened the floodgates for Trent and Devin to poke fun at Boyd. They made googly eyes at one another and blew air kisses. Trent was mocking Boyd and Trent pretended to be Nikki.

  Boyd flung his arm around Nikki’s shoulder and released a smug grin. “You two clowns can make fun of me all you want, but at least this stud muffin has a date for Homecoming.”

  “As will this stud muffin,” Trent said staring directly at me.

  “I’ll be snatching up my date very soon,” Devin said with a smirk, eyeing me up and down.

  I didn’t realize I had stopped breathing until my brain pleaded with my lungs to take a breath. Why were they grinning at me like that? And why did I suddenly feel like Little Red Riding Hood staring at two hungry wolves?

  “We better get going before the bell rings,” Nikki said.

  Nikki and Boyd walked in front of me holding hands. I could only wish and hope their relationship was solid. When it came to voting for class couple at the end of the year, they’d be my pick.

  I had Trent and Devin flanked at my sides. It seemed as though Nikki was no longer my shadow. She had been replaced by two - I wasn’t sure how to refer to them - other than stalkers. But I was positive the five of us just formed a new clique.

  Although, I was sure I’d soon have to include Willie in the group. He joined us in our walk behind me acting as the caboose.

  “Annihilate!” Willie screamed.

  Boyd, Trent and Devin screamed annihilate along with Willie. And everyone else in earshot of us followed suit, clapping and whistling as they entered the school.

  Every student we passed as we made our way down the corridors greeted us with smiles, cheerful hellos, and most of the guys high-fived one another.

  Trent and Devin patted and rubbed my back telling me they would catch up to me later at the pep assembly. Willie said his good-bye shortly after when we walked past his locker. Boyd followed Nikki and me to our locker.

  When we turned to the corner a few people were in the aisle staring at me.

  “Sorry Parker. No one saw who did that to your locker,” a male student said.

  I glanced at my locker and furrowed my eyebrows. “This means war,” I said.

  “Holy shit!” Boyd said.

  “Those bitches won’t get away with this,” Nikki added.

  Nail polish and lipstick was no match against wipes, but spray paint was a whole new ballgame. Neon green, too. The Barbie’s wrote: This locker belongs to fugly whore Parker and fat ass Nikki.

  It was one thing to cast an all-out war on me, I could hold my own. But to drag Nikki into the middle of it all, these girls had just crossed over the line. Nikki was a saint, a gracious soul with a heart of gold.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Boyd said. He was probably more furious than I was.

  “No!” I said. “This is my area of expertise. I’ve got this covered.”

  “What are you going to do?” Nikki wanted to know.

  My heart was still pumping through my ears when I entered my newspaper class. A good portion of me wanted to toss Casey out the window to see if she could fly. But I couldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe Amber or even Whitney acted alone; although I doubted it.

  Before I entered the classroom Wayne Stevenson jumped in front of me. His dark brown hair was parted down the middle and with strays sticking out here and there. It was as though he finally washed his hair and slept on it wet.

  “Hi Sunshine,” Wayne said with a huge smile. His retainer barricaded his newly straight teeth. “You’re looking…” He tilted his head to study my face. “Angry. Is there someone you want me to beat up?”

  Wayne was wearing baggy jeans and a yellow and black striped shirt that made him look like a dehydrated bumblebee. He carried a few textbooks in the crook of his arm; loose notebook paper peeked out from the pages. He certainly wasn’t an organized person.

  My anger melted at the hilarious thought of Wayne taking on the Barbie’s. He’d probably pee his pants and run home to his mommy. He just made my morning. “No thanks Wayne.”

  “Did you get my flowers?”

  “I did.” It was an insane arrangement of roses and carnations mixed with baby’s breath. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to make out the thank you cards. It wasn’t necessary, but the flowers were beautiful.”

  Wayne lifted his arm and angled his body against the door frame, but immediately became horizontal when his pants slipped below his waist. He hiked up his pants, looking embarrassed.

  “I hear you still don’t have a date to Homecoming. I can take you, if you’d like.”

  I was starting to lose my patience with Wayne. He was no different from any other male in this school, not being able to take no for answer. But I didn’t want to be mean. I refused to stoop lower than the Barbie’s.

  “Wayne, I’m just not your type. You’re in honor’s society and I’m academically challenged. You’re on the chess team; I’m not a team player.”

  “So, you’re saying no?”

  “I’m saying you need to ask someone who shares in your interests.” I searched my brain for a girl nerd, when Kelley Silvers squeezed between us to enter the classroom.

  Kelley was about five-feet, I knew I had about four inches on her. She was equally frail as Wayne and they both dressed in their parent’s eighties-style clothes. Kelley, to me, was as Plain Jane as they get.

  “Kelley’s pretty,” he said following her with his eyes. “Should I ask her?”

  “I think that’s a grand idea.”

  Wayne suddenly became all nervous and jittery. Beads of sweat were forming in the creases of his forehead. “I don’t know Parker. She’s not you.”

  “Thank the Lord for that,” I said. “Why don’t you send her a single long-stemmed rose with a note?”

  “That’s a great idea. Thank you, Parker for being such a great friend.”

  Wayne leaned in to try and kiss me, but I took a step back. “Oh no,” I said. “You don’t want Kelley to get the wrong idea.”

  I strolled into the classroom mentally wiping my brow. That was way too close for comfort. If Casey witnessed Wayne trying to kiss me, it would add more fuel to her tormenting fire. Only I didn’t see Casey in the classroom and wondered if maybe she wasn’t behind the defacing of my locker.

  Kelley was at her mailbox, grabbing student letters for her article. I thought to help Wayne out and build him up for his upcoming rose ceremony.

  “Sorry for blocking the door Kelley. But you know Wayne, he’s something else.”

  “That seems to be the consensus,” she said staring up at me, her right brown eye obstructed by strands of brown scraggly hair. “He seems to like you a lot.”

  “Me?” I waved my hand at her. “No, no. Not me. He was just asking me for advice on how to ask a pretty girl to Homecoming.”

  Kelley’s eyes grew large. “Did he say who?”

  “No. But do you think I gave him good advice in telling him to send her a rose?”

  “Oh yes!” she swooned. “But what color did you say he should send?”

  I froze. “Does that matter?”

  “Oh but of course. In the Victorian Era, men courted woman by presenting them with flowers. The color expressed their level of devotion.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, yellow means friendship, white is innocent love, red is romantic love, and pink is secret love.” Kelley leaned over the table and her cheeks suddenly turned red. Then she whispered in an excited tone, “And yellow with orange means passionate thoughts.”

  Well, what do you know! Kelley and Wayne definitely belonged together. I never realized Kelley was borderline geek. I just successfully played matchmaker and it felt pretty cool.

  Then something knocked at my memory cells. “Wait, what did you say pink was?” I asked Kelley.

  “Secret love, why?”
<
br />   “Curious.” I turned away and took a seat at my table.

  There had been so many flower arrangements set up in my foyer at home; I never really read each individual card. But I recalled seeing a vase of pink roses. Maybe it was my over active imagination or the thrill of having a secret admirer, but I couldn’t help but wonder if those pink roses were sent by the same person who stuffed all the suckers in my locker. I had to find out.

  The benefit of having a teacher who’s oblivious and quite possibly a pothead was that he knows I’m in class, so he won’t mark me absent for when I sneak out. I sent Nikki a text that I was taking her car to get something I forgot at home. I didn’t want to tell her the truth, just in case I was playing more into the pink roses than I should.

  I pulled into the driveway and unlocked the front door. Mom was already gone, training at her new job at the bookstore. I rummaged through all the flower arrangements in the foyer to search out the pink roses and finally found them.

  There was a small white sealed envelope tucked inside the arrangement. I never went through each and every gift sent, and probably should so I didn’t offend anyone or seem ungrateful.

  Paper cuts make me crazy so I tore the envelope open with a car key. I pulled out the tiny card inside the envelope. Scribbled in messy penmanship was, You drive me nuts. Okay, was that a good or bad thing?

  I quickly read each card on every flower, candy-gram, and stuffed animal basket. All of them had notes for me to get well soon, or sorry to hear I was hospitalized. But only one note said I drove them nuts. But considering they were tied to pink, secret love roses I made the decision that it was a good drive me nuts.

  Could I possibly have a secret admirer? That certainly stinks! Why was this person concealing his identity? All I knew from all my life lessons, there was more than one way to skin a cat. And with a little luck, timing and precision, I planned on exposing who was defacing my locker and stuffing love letters in my locker. I scampered down to my bedroom and grabbed my camera.

  When I entered the school I had eight minutes to stage my camera up in the corner of the bank of lockers, and set the timer to take a photo every five seconds until the battery died out. I pretty much had the entire school day. And if it didn’t happen today, I was patient enough to set my camera up every day.