by Greg Herren
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He turned his head and smiled at me. “But I have a feeling something’s going to happen soon. I don’t know what or who—but something.”
Chapter Three
I didn’t get to ask Candy out at the victory dance because we didn’t wind up having one.
After that first day, things seemed to have settled down around school and football practice. With the first game of the season on Friday, everyone’s attention turned to that. All around town people were flying flags in school colors on their porches. Store windows had Go Trojans written on them in purple grease pencil. Every once in a while, I heard someone saying something shitty about Glenn—and once I sat at a desk with Glenn Lockhart sucks dick written on it. I licked my thumb and rubbed at the ink until it was gone.
I had slept in the guest room on Monday night, and Glenn had been a little distant toward me ever since then. I knew I was being a coward, but I hadn’t stayed overnight there since Glenn had come out. I also knew he knew I wasn’t gay, but I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the same bed with him the way I had every other time I’d stayed over. That night, he’d acted like it wasn’t a big deal. But the next morning over breakfast I sensed something had changed between us, which I thought was kind of unfair.
I mean, I was supposed to be open-minded and understanding of everything, but he didn’t have to be?
Glenn seemed subdued the rest of the week, even during weightlifting. Instead of laughing and joking around the way he always did, he only spoke when I talked directly to him. I wasn’t the only person who noticed, either—Mrs. Drury kept me after class one day to ask me if “something had happened that I hadn’t shared with her.”
“No,” I replied with a shrug. “He hasn’t said anything to me.”
Even at football practice, he kept to himself. He still picked me up every morning for school and dropped me off after practice, but there was nothing but silence in the car other than the stereo blaring.
I kept thinking I should say something, should ask and push the issue, but the truth was I didn’t want to because I was afraid. I didn’t want to have a conversation about the night I’d stayed over and slept in the guest room. I didn’t want to have to tell him that he was still my best friend and I didn’t mind changing in front of him or showering, but sleeping in the same bed made me uncomfortable.
I knew feeling that way made me an asshole but I couldn’t help it.
And I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about it. I’d always talked to Glenn before, or to Zach Zimmer. I could hardly talk to Zach now that he was firmly in the “Glenn is a fag and going to hell” camp.
Friday finally arrived, and it was a game day just like all the ones before. We got to wear our jerseys to school, the cheerleaders were in their uniforms, and the hallway rang with cheers between classes. We had a pep rally during the last period of class, where Coach Roberts got up and talked about the high hopes we had for the season, and how we were depending on everyone to show up and cheer us on. The band played the school fight song, the cheerleaders led some cheers, and then it was all over.
And then the unthinkable happened: we lost the game 21–16.
I don’t know what happened to us. We were ahead 16–0 at halftime, and the Cottonwood Rapids Tigers hadn’t even made a first down. We weren’t playing our best—we fumbled a couple of times inside their twenty yard line, and Ray Jones threw another interception they almost ran back for a touchdown. But at halftime, the mood in the locker room was a lot more grim than it should have been.
And rather than staying calm the way he had always been at halftime the year before, no matter how badly we’d played, Coach Roberts went on a rampage. He screamed and yelled at us. He was furious about the fumbles, he was furious about the interceptions.
Maybe it was supposed to motivate us. But it didn’t—it had the exact opposite effect on us. I know I was shocked and confused, didn’t get it. Sure, we hadn’t played great, but we were ahead and we’d moved the ball pretty easily. The defense had kept them from getting a first down. And they’d had the ball on our fifteen yard line after that interception. Three plays later they had fourth and 25 and had to try a field goal—which they missed. What was wrong with Coach Roberts? What was he so pissed off about? It didn’t make any sense.
And whatever the Tigers’ coach said to them during halftime sure worked a lot better. They came out fired up and ready to go—and they ran all over us. They scored the go-ahead touchdown with only three minutes left in the game, and when we got the ball back we couldn’t score.
Time ran out, and their side of the field erupted in joy.
Our side was silent in shock.
All I could think about as I jogged back to the locker room, with my helmet in my hand, was there goes any shot at going to the play-offs, let alone being state champions. I could tell the fans were stunned, didn’t know what to think, what to say to any of us as we headed off the field.
The locker room was depressing. Nobody was talking. The only sounds were lockers slamming or opening, helmets being tossed on the floor, and the steady running of the showers. Coach Roberts didn’t even bother to talk to us after the game. He just walked through the locker room on the way to his office with his head down. When we’d lost the two games the previous season, he’d stayed upbeat, telling us we had nothing to be ashamed of because we’d played our best. He’d been encouraging, telling us not to get down and to think ahead to busting ass the next week. I guess maybe he was in shock, too. I guess it made sense that he didn’t know what to say to us. We didn’t know what to say to each other. What do you say when you suddenly realize that you aren’t going to win the state championship after all? And it’s the first game of the season?
I don’t really remember much of what I was thinking. It seemed like I was sleepwalking through a really bad dream. The only thing I really remember clearly was how quiet and still the locker room was—no one was talking or would even look at each other. Somehow I managed to get my pads and uniform off. I showered and washed my hair and put my street clothes back on. I picked up my gym bag to walk out of the locker room and Glenn fell into step beside me.
“You want to head into town and get a burger or something?” His voice was quiet and subdued. “You can just sleep over at my place, if you want to.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “That sounds good to me.” I was too down to even think about it, really. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and as far away from that silent locker room as I could.
We pushed open the locker room doors and emerged into a silent crowd of waiting girlfriends, friends, and family. They were all quiet, too. I hadn’t realized how used I had gotten to winning. After we won, the after-game crowd was usually laughing, joking, slapping the players on the backs, talking about this play or that play. It was a lot of fun coming out of the locker room on those nights. This quiet crowd with their stricken, sad faces was even worse than the locker room somehow. They didn’t know what to say either, or how to act. We walked over to where Glenn’s dad was standing.
I really envied Glenn his father. Mr. Lockhart was just about the coolest dad I’d ever met. Mr. Lockhart wasn’t very old—he was in his mid-thirties—and when he first started coming to our football games a lot of people thought he was Glenn’s older brother. They looked a lot alike. They had the same brown eyes, the same hair, the same-shaped face, the same dimples in their cheeks. He treated Glenn like an adult, but wasn’t afraid to lay down the law when he needed to. He’d played football in high school, too—and Glenn told me they spent every Saturday parked in front of the television watching college games all day on cable. It was always a lot of fun to spend the night after a game at Glenn’s. When Glenn and I got there after the victory dance or driving into Kahola for something to eat, we’d sit at the kitchen table and talk over the game with Mr. Lockhart. Mr. Lockhart never let Glenn off the hook if he screwed up on a play, but he did it in such a way that it didn’t hurt hi
s feelings or make him mad. Mr. Lockhart welcomed me into their tight-knit little family, and there were times when I felt more at home at their house than I did in my own.
“You boys played a hell of a game,” Mr. Lockhart said. Glenn had told me his parents both had been from Alabama originally, but Mr. Lockhart spoke without any kind of drawl. Every once in a while he’d say something and the accent would come out. Glenn didn’t have an accent at all—they’d left Alabama before he learned how to talk.
“No, we didn’t,” Glenn snapped. “If we had, we would have won.”
Mr. Lockhart put his arm around Glenn’s shoulders, and said, “Losing is no disgrace. I’m proud of you both—you played your hearts out, and that’s all anyone can ask.”
I almost started crying, and Glenn looked like he was ready to, but instead he said, “Tony’s going to sleep over, and we’re going to go into Kahola for a burger, is that okay?”
“Of course,” Mr. Lockhart replied, pulling out his wallet and slipping Glenn a twenty, which he shoved into the pocket of his jeans. “Now, you boys don’t get into trouble, and be home by midnight, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Glenn replied rudely, looking at me. “Come on, Tony, let’s get out of here.”
I followed him out to the parking lot where he’d parked his car. I looked around, wondering where Candy was, but didn’t see her anywhere.
“You need to stop and get some clothes?” Glenn asked as he unlocked the doors. “Or you want to just borrow something?”
“Well…” I didn’t really want to stop by my house and talk to my mother. She was probably asleep already on the couch, and I knew she had to get up early to go into the motel. “I’ll just call her and let her know I’m not coming home.” I got into the car and dialed her cell number. It didn’t ring—just went straight into voice mail. She always shut it off when she was going to sleep. I left her a brief message that I was staying at the Lockharts’ and would be home in the morning before closing my phone and tossing it back into my bag.
“Can we go now?” Glenn asked as he turned the ignition key and started the car.
I gave him a look but didn’t say anything as he drove us out of the parking lot and down the road to the turn for the Kahola Road. As he made the turn and cruised through town, he said, “I suppose you think I was rude to my dad.”
“It’s not the first time,” I replied, looking out the car window.
“Yeah, well.” He snorted. “I’m pretty pissed about losing the game, all right? He knows that—you should see him when he loses at golf.” He laughed. “I’ve seen him throw his driver into a water hazard—more than once.”
“Really? Your dad always seems so calm.” He really did. I’d never seen him lose his cool—no matter what Glenn did.
“Yeah, calm. That’s Dad.” He rolled his eyes as we reached the town limits and he sped up, switching on the car’s high beams. “Dad’s pretty competitive. I figure that’s where I get it from.” He let out a sigh. “I can’t believe we lost, man. The whole season’s blown now.”
“Nah.” I turned and looked at him. “If we win out—”
“If we win out.” He interrupted me. “It’s not going to be easy. And this was supposed to be an easy win.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I think I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
He didn’t talk for a minute, and then he said, “You hurt my feelings the other night when you stayed over, and you shouldn’t have.”
“Oh.” I’d been right after all.
“You’ve been great.” He went on, “And I appreciate it, Tony, you have no idea how much it means to me that nothing’s different with us.”
“You’re still you,” I replied, feeling like a jerk.
“And it can’t be easy, I know.” He accelerated. “I know what people are saying about me, I know what people are saying about you. And you’ve stood by me this whole time. It means a lot to me.” He took a deep breath. “So it shouldn’t have bothered me that you wanted to sleep in the spare room, you know? I didn’t even think about it from your side of things, you know? All I could think about was you were afraid to share the bed with me like you always used to, and it really hurt my feelings. And then I acted like a dick to you all week. I’m sorry, man.”
“No need to apologize,” I replied, feeling even smaller. “I’m sorry too, Glenn.” I looked out the window.
“No worries tonight, anyway.” He laughed. “From now on, you sleep in the spare room, and it’s fine, okay? I get it, and it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged. “I knew things were going to be different, you know, after I came out. And I have to deal with it.”
“Are you sorry?”
“I’m not sorry I don’t have to lie about who I am anymore. I am sorry that so many people seem to have a problem with it.”
“Yeah, but those guys were assholes before.”
“Yeah, Zach and Noah for sure—but I expected better from Randy.” He made a face. “Randy was my friend.”
I didn’t say anything. Randy had always been a douchebag to me, as far back as I could remember. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, well, what can you do?” he replied with a nasty laugh. “Dude, I forgot—you were going to ask Candy out at the dance tonight!” He looked over at me as we crossed the river and reached the outskirts of Kahola. “You going to call her?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t. The truth was, I’d have to borrow my mom’s car to take her out, and I’d also have to dip into my moving money to pay for it. I couldn’t imagine driving up to Candy’s house in the rusty old car. The Dixons weren’t rich but they weren’t poor, either. They raised cattle, and Candy not only had her own car but she had her own horse, too. I could just imagine the look on her father’s face when I pulled up.
“You should. She really likes you.”
I didn’t say anything. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around Candy Dixon liking me. She was so pretty, and popular. She could pretty much go out with whoever she wanted to—and she’d always gone out with older guys before.
So why me? I wondered as he turned into the parking lot of the Vista Drive-In.
The Vista was the main hangout for teenagers from all parts of the county. If you didn’t have anything else to do or anywhere else to go, you wound up at the Vista. Part of that was because it stayed open until three in the morning—all the other fast food places in Kahola closed by eleven—and the other reason was because the managers didn’t seem to care that the parking lot was full of teenagers all night on Fridays and Saturdays. Friday nights the place was usually jammed after the football games were over. There was usually a lot of beer in the parking lot, and there was a jukebox inside, but nobody ever danced there. You just plugged in your quarters and listened and socialized and saw who was with whom. As Glenn cruised around the parking lot looking for a place to park, I noticed Candy’s Mustang and felt my heart sink a little bit. If she was here, I wasn’t going to be able to avoid her—and I wasn’t sure I wanted to, honestly.
I saw Noah’s pickup as soon as I got out of the car, and for a second thought about suggesting we go to McDonald’s instead. Glenn didn’t seem too happy about Laney and Noah dating—and Noah wasn’t above causing trouble.
But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to.
“Great.” Glenn nodded over toward the pickup. “Looks like Noah and Laney are here. Perfect.” He made a face.
“Why do you care who she’s going out with?” I asked as we walked toward the front doors.
“I don’t care. I mean, I’m not jealous or anything.” He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. “I just wish she was going out with someone else, is all. He’s a douchebag.”
It was just as crowded inside as it was outside. The jukebox was blaring some Jay-Z song, and we ordered our burgers at the counter. We found an empty booth and sat down. Glenn was facing the front door, and I could see the rest of the place behind him. Almost as soon as I sat dow
n I was glad he was facing the other way. Noah and Laney were sitting in the back, feeding each other French fries. I made a face.
Glenn grinned at me and rolled his eyes. “They’re just an adorable couple, aren’t they?”
I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out. “Couple of whats, that’s the question.”
Glenn started laughing, and I laughed along with him. After a little while, he stopped and drummed his hands on the table. “I was an asshole to Dad, wasn’t I?” he said.
“I’m sure he’s used to it by now.”
Glenn’s retort was cut off by the loudspeaker calling our number. I grinned and slid out of the booth, heading back over to the pick-up counter with our ticket. “You want some ketchup?” the girl at the counter asked as she pushed the tray toward me. She looked tired, and I felt sorry for her. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and it would have to suck to be working at Vista on a Friday night when all your friends and everyone else you went to school with were just hanging out and having a good time.
I flashed a smile at her. “Yeah, lots.”
She smiled and winked at me. “That’s what they all say.” She reached under the counter and grabbed a handful of ketchup packets. “Looks like your friend is doing pretty okay without you.”
Not sure what she meant by that, I picked up the tray and turned around. I was surprised to see a girl sitting next to Glenn, and she was an absolute knockout. She had long thick silver-blond hair and big expressive blue eyes, and was wearing a tight black cashmere sweater that clung to her like skin. She was staring at Glenn, who was saying something I couldn’t hear, hanging on his every word. I carried the tray over, wondering who she was, and was pleasantly surprised to see Candy was sitting on my side of the booth. She was still in her cheerleading uniform, and she smiled up at me.
“I was wondering where you were,” Candy said, grabbing one of my French fries. “I always say, where Glenn goes, Tony is sure to follow.”
