by Berinn Rae
She tried to smooth his hair down and carefully had him stand. A crescendo of cheers rose from the stands as he slowly raised himself. He turned to the home bleachers, took a bow, and nearly tumbled over. A surge of laughter reignited the stadium; his image flashed on the big screen again.
“Okay, Alex,” Blake said. “Enough of that. Put that bloody knucklehead on me again.” And the focus went back to the game.
• • •
It was the end of the second quarter already. The score was now tied seven to seven when halftime was called.
JJ couldn’t tell if the thrill of the football game pumped her with the adrenaline she felt surging through her body, or if it was the result of being that close to Kenn for so long.
The Ohio College at Defiance Marching Band stepped out onto the field precisely as the announcer called halftime. The band played a current popular song.
“Wow! They’re good,” JJ said.
“Yeah. Look at them. They’re all marching in perfect time. Not a leg raised too early or too late.”
“I swear you can see the creases in their uniforms,” JJ commented. Indeed, the blue and gold uniforms appeared freshly pressed, fitting each musician as if it were custom-made.
The first selection ended; the crowd cheered, and the band bowed as one, each of them bending exactly at the same angle. They all returned to their upright positions with the same robotic precision and started the next piece.
“I wonder how long they practice to get that structured,” she asked.
“Well, let’s just say they take their school initials seriously.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ohio College at Defiance. OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?”
JJ laughed, and gave Kenn a quick, light slap on his arm. He, in turn, took his arm, wrapped it around her and gave her a gentle squeeze before releasing his grip and placing his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.
The OCD band finished their portion of the halftime show, took yet another precise bow, and exited off the field with the same panache as they entered.
“And now ladies and gentleman, we present the University of Northern Ohio Marching Band!”
A few, long awkward seconds passed. No band.
“Ladies and gentlemen. We’re proud to present the University of Northern Ohio Marching Band!”
Still no band appeared, but the crowd could hear the sound of cymbals, clashing drums being hit, and a few noises from some unrecognizable instruments.
Finally, the band stumbled out in their purple and lime green uniforms. Atop their heads sat purple hats with lime green plumes wobbling precariously from side to side.
If OCD symbolized the height of precision, the UNO marching band represented complete chaos. Calling them a marching band was not even accurate. Few of the musicians could actually march and play their instruments at the same time. As a result, not all musicians participated in the entire song. At times a preponderance of woodwinds could be heard, then they would stumble and the brass section would pick up the melody. And then every so often the cymbalist tripped, causing the cymbals to clang without warning.
“They’re having a tough time playing the entire song at the same time,” JJ said.
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Kenn said grinning, “if those who played at least got the notes right. Perhaps our marching band should be a bleacher band. They could play from the bleachers instead of coming onto the field.”
The announcer then introduced the group’s finale as if it were some magic trick. “And for your musical enjoyment and delight, the band will perform a popular song while creating Script Ohio.”
JJ moaned, resting her forehead on Kenn’s arm. “I see disaster in their future and I’m not even psychic!”
The band began forming the capital O — well, it looked more like a U. Then they tackled H. Chaos erupted when the band members crisscrossed each other while attempting to form the I. The hat of a trombonist slipped off his head and covered his eyes. He apparently became disoriented and turned in the opposite direction of what he should have, slamming into his fellow musician. The slides of their instruments struck each other, became hopelessly entangled, and brought them both down.
Sprawled out on the field, there was no way that poor bass drummer could avoid them. He tumbled over them landing smack dab on top of the pair. One of the trombonists was caught under the drum, only his legs showing like the witch caught under the house in The Wizard of Oz. In the process of trying to extricate himself, his trombone tore the skin of the drum.
The drummer furiously freed himself from the ugly wreckage, and began to strangle the offending trombonist. It took two trumpet players, three clarinetists, and a flutist to separate the pair. The crowd cheered.
“Are they cheering because the fight got broken up or for the original disaster?” JJ asked.
“Hard to tell. Definitely hard to tell.”
Hearing the approval of the crowd, the participants of the fight and those who intervened took a bow.
Blake waddled out on the sidelines and took advantage of the enthusiasm of the crowd as he began to lead them in cheers while the players waited for the band to leave the field.
“We’re definitely not OCD,” Kenn spoke into JJ’s ear.
• • •
“I can’t believe the Fighting Fingers are so close to winning,” JJ said as she and Kenn again jumped to their feet in reaction to the incredibly long pass the team completed.
It was late in the fourth quarter and the score was fourteen to seven with UNO ahead.
“Don’t get too excited,” Kenn cautioned, “game isn’t over yet! See the kid who just ran down the field?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Justin Lambert.”
“Justin? Our Justin from the conspiracy class?”
“Yep. One and the same.”
“Yea, Justin!” JJ added her personal cheer a tad later than the rest of the stadium. At the same time, she tugged at Kenn’s sweatshirt. Realizing what she had done, she quickly apologized.
“No need.” Kenn smiled down at her, hesitantly placing his arm around her. Surprised, but by no means upset, she sidled a little closer to him, enjoying the moment.
The buzzer signaled the end of the game rang. UNO had won its first game in five years. The final score was fourteen to seven. Alex and Blake grabbed each other, hopping around on the field like a couple of rabbits. Blake finally stopped, stripped his knucklehead cover off, and planted a long, hard kiss on Alex’s lips.
The rest of the cheerleaders and the men’s pep squad burst into a grand chorus of “Awwww.” The pair reluctantly parted lips as their friends pointed to the big screen. The moment had been broadcast — up close and personal — to the entire stadium. A second wave of applause rocked the bleachers, this time for the pair’s open display of affection.
The scene changed to another couple blissfully enthralled in a long and passionate kiss. Alex and Blake cheered with the crowd. The romantic couple? JJ and Kenn.
Arms wrapped around one another, lips exploring each other, the kiss was anything but an ordinary aren’t-we-glad-UNO-won peck on the lips. Their smoldering passion ignited a long, indulgent kiss.
“Wow! I didn’t know JJ had that in her.” Blake couldn’t keep his eyes off the love scene playing out on the screen. Alex whispered to Blake, “JJ has been holding out on us in those pages she’s written. If she has that much passion in her, so do we.” She gave Blake a long look from head to toe. “Wait till I get you home tonight.”
• • •
The professors slowly became aware that they had inspired another collective “Awwww.” JJ was first to open her eyes. She pushed herself away from Kenn. His grip on her was strong; he wasn’t ready to release her, and she couldn’t put much distance between them.
Her eyes involuntarily followed what everyone else seemed to be watching on the jumbotron. There she and Ken stood in the middle of the enormous screen — entertainm
ent for all to see. Absolutely humiliated, totally confused, and blushing a bright red, JJ wished there was a rock to crawl under. The next best thing was Kenn’s sweatshirt. She raised one side and stuck her head in it, much like an ostrich sticking his head in the sand. Kenn held her with both arms wrapped tightly around her small frame.
The camera captured this intimate moment as well. The crowd laughed, then cheered, and then applauded.
JJ’s small, muffled voice could be heard pleading beneath Ken’s shirt: “Take me home now … please.”
Chapter 25
“Did you see what I saw?! Why, of course you did. It was broadcast on TV, for crying out loud. The entire world saw it!”
JJ slammed her purse on the dining room table, and then dragged herself to the living room where she collapsed on the couch.
“You kissed a man,” Alex said, sitting on the arm of the chair next to her. “That’s what you did. But truthfully, I didn’t see it all. I was busy with the man of my dreams.” She released a long, deep sigh. Blake beamed with pride as he stood in the middle of the living room, still in the palm portion of his mascot’s uniform, his hair an unmanageable tangle.
“Not just any man, but Kennedy King Cooper. How could I let myself do that?” JJ ran her hand through her hair, held it back for a moment, and then allowed it to fall to one side.
“Perhaps you’re finally allowing yourself to recognize those feelings you have for him?” Alex ventured.
“Even if I am, we work together!”
“That’s just a flimsy excuse,” Blake said. “You know full well that’s not the reason you’re so flummoxed.”“
“I am not flummoxed!” JJ was startled by her own voice. “Flummoxed? Where did you get that word?”
“From our book. Chapter six. When Alex’s old love comes to town and her feelings are torn between him and me. She was ‘flummoxed.’”
JJ squinted her eyes, trying to switch gears and think back to the novel.
“I do believe you’re right, Blake. She was flummoxed, wasn’t she?”
“People! Let’s focus on the more pressing issue,” Alex said. “Right now we’re discussing JJ’s horror at actually kissing a man! A much more interesting topic!”
“No, it is not,” JJ said. “And it’s not a good position to be in, professionally speaking.” She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her on the couch.
“Bloody hell!” Blake said. “In the time we’ve been observing you from the pages of your own world, so to speak, you have not allowed yourself one moment of pure pleasure, doing something just for yourself. You had to be dragged out of the house to interact with real people. You were afraid of stepping out of your snug, secure cocoon. The truth of the matter is you’re not really living.”
Alex bolted off the arm of the chair. “Why, Blake Teasdale! I didn’t know you had such keen powers of observation. I’m not only impressed, I’m extremely proud of you.” She walked to where he was standing, leaned over the palm of his costume, and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Blake not only beamed, he blushed a little. “So let’s get down to the nitty gritty. What is causing you to feel flummoxed?”
“In other words, what were you feeling when you kissed Kenn?” Alex asked.
“Aside from an incredible urge to disrobe him right there in the stadium,” Blake suggested.
“Blake!” The ladies shouted at him.
“You probably were feeling it. I know I was when kissing Alex in that scene in chapter seven — ”
“Blake!” Alex tried to refocus. “I know this sounds personal, JJ. But if you can’t talk to us, who can you talk to?”
A weak smile crossed JJ’s mouth. Certainly these two were closer to her than her own sister. “Well, there was a moment when I considered dragging him behind the stadium.”
“La … la … la … ” Blake interrupted, covering his ears. The women laughed.
“It was an exciting feeling,” JJ said. “And quite liberating if you want to know the truth.”
“Great! So what’s the problem?” Alex asked.
JJ, unfolded her legs and stood. Then she began to pace. “The truth is … “ she said quietly. “The truth is I’m scared. I haven’t felt like this in ages. And, well, I’m concerned I’m setting myself up for a real heartbreak here. Unlike your love story, mine might not end happily ever after. I might never find another Geoff St. Clair. Then what do I do?”
“You get up and try again,” said Blake. “Okay, so it sounds, well, Pollyanna-ish,” Blake admitted. “But isn’t that exactly how you go through life? You just keep going. You cherish the good and learn from the mistakes and the misfortunes. You certainly don’t cut yourself off from the world at large.”
JJ stopped pacing. “Do you really think that’s what I’ve been doing?”
Silence filled the room.
“Aha!” Blake hurriedly wiggled out of his mascot costume and tossed it on the recliner. His hair flounced as he dashed into the kitchen. “Sit down on the couch; I’m sure you’ll find relevance in this analogy!”
JJ sat next to Alex. The women heard the refrigerator door open. Then a rummaging sound. They looked at each other, shrugged, and waited.
Blake returned with a TV tray that he set up squarely in front of the ladies. On it he set down his other props: four slices of cheese, two slices of bread, and waxed paper. He politely excused himself, trotted to the linen closet in the hallway, and returned with an iron that he plugged in and set on the TV tray. Looking much like a magician preparing for his act, he vainly attempted to smooth his hair and gave up when his fingers became stuck in tangles.
“My dear, ladies,” he began, bowing low at the waist. “Allow me to show you why JJ Sprightly … ” He held up a piece of cheese wrapped in cellophane in his right hand. “And Professor Kennedy King Cooper … ” He flashed the second piece of cellophane-wrapped cheese in the other hand. “Are not finding true and lasting romance at this time.”
JJ bit her lip. Alex nervously shifted her weight on the couch. It was anyone’s guess where this display of dairy products was headed.
“The obvious problem is that each is hermetically sealed, not allowing the other inside to discern their feelings. But even if these two self-protected people were to unwrap their cellophane,” he said, carefully taking the wrapper off one slice, then the other, “we’d discover that they aren’t sincerely showing the other who they really are. Right now they’re poor imitations of real cheese.”
JJ just stared. Blake continued, undaunted. “Let’s explore what these two persons could be experiencing. First, they could voluntarily shed the protective wrapper,” he dramatically picked up a slice of real deli cheese, “allowing the other to see them, which is the basis of any good friendship. In this situation we have two real slices of cheese — I mean people — who are starting their relationship on the right foot! But that’s not all!” Blake carefully placed the two slices of real cheese together. “Notice how much closer they are.” He picked up a slice of bread. “We place the two of them together and allow these two to spend some time alone.” Blake carefully placed the two slices together on the bread. He then placed the second slice of bread on top of the cheese. He held the sandwich high. Then he set the sandwich on the TV tray, placed a sheet of wax paper over it, and grabbed the iron.
He licked his index finger, touched it to the hot surface of the iron, and flinched immediately. “Ouch!” Then Blake proceeded to iron the sandwich, humming the theme song from Jeopardy! as he worked.
Alex and JJ glanced at each other.
Blake picked up the sandwich and tore it open. Gooey, melted cheese oozed from the two halves. “And so you see, the two previously separate slices of cheese are now living happily ever after as one. That, ladies, is the ultimate secret to a successful relationship.” He ceremoniously bowed.
Alex sprang from her seat, applauding. “Bravo! Bravo!” She dashed to his side, giving him a hug and a kiss. “You’re awesome, hon!
”
JJ sat motionless on the couch, her mouth gaping open. She stood and ran to her bedroom. “You’ve just reduced my love life to a grilled cheese sandwich!” The door slammed behind her.
Chapter 26
JJ took a deep breath as she climbed the stairs leading to the entrance of Mundain Hall.
“Monday morning, a chance to put that horrendous incident of Saturday behind me,” she muttered to herself.
As she walked down the corridor leading to her office, she noticed two coeds pointing at the door giggling. One of them looked her way.
“Oh my God, there she is now,” one said, nudging the other. They glanced quickly at JJ, giggled again, and hurried down the hall.
Clickclickclick. The accelerated rate of JJ’s heels indicated her growing curiosity to see what was on her door. Finally reaching it, the clear, crisp image before her made her knees wobble. Her eyes grew wide, and she nearly dropped her briefcase. This can’t be happening to me.
Monday’s edition of the school newspaper, The Daily Digit, was taped to the door. It bore a front-page photo of the new jumbotron. It was obviously taken as part of the game’s news coverage. On the screen of the jumbotron was JJ and Ken embraced in their first kiss.
The caption read: Professors in Love. History professors Kennedy King Cooper and J. Jordan St. Clair share an intimate moment at UNO stadium as the Fighting Fingers win their first football game in five years. (See the Sports Page for more details on the game.)
“Me! Why me? Why me?”
Sighing heavily, she leaned her head on the door and was about to hit it against the structure when she stopped. With my luck, I’d break the windows. Instead she removed the newspaper, unlocked the door, and entered. It was after she tossed her things down and walked around her desk that she noticed them.
“What in blue blazes? How did these get in here?” A smile slowly crept on her lips. She couldn’t help it. The bright yellow roses in a crystal vase sat in the middle of her desk. Stuck in the arrangement was a card. She opened it — I’m sorry. Even though the card wasn’t signed, she knew.
