I didn't quite understand why she was talking to me about power tools, but then I figured out the innuendo. She was referring to Will. Instead of responding, I concentrated on my books and tried to ignore her. "You know that's the only reason he's with you, right?" she added.
I didn't respond.
"He's a top Cherry Picker you know. He gets extra points for virgins. And since you're like the last virgin on the planet he's gonna pick you." I tried to turn my back to her, but she continued. "He's a Panty Pirate. All he wants is the booty."
Her voice was so soft yet antagonizing. Only I could hear her. And she had this sweet innocent expression on her face that completely contradicted the vicious vitriol that spewed from her mouth. "You don't believe me? Read this."
She stuffed a piece of paper in my hand. I slammed my locker shut and swung my backpack over my shoulder. In the process, though, I accidently smacked Ashley in the stomach. She stumbled back a few steps then yelled, "You hit me. I can't believe you hit me. Did you see that? She attacked me." Then some fake tears leaked out of her eyes. She should've won an Oscar. A few students ran to her aid and patted her on the back.
"Oh, come on. It was an accident," I tried to explain, but my years of practicing invisibility had worked too well. No one recognized my existence when precious Ashley Carter was in distress. I just melted into the background then skulked away.
Class was pretty pointless that day. I couldn't get my mind off of what Ashley had said. Will was a top Cherry Picker? What the heck did that mean? Well, I could imagine what it meant, but I didn't really want to. That couldn't be why he was with me. I mean we had been seeing each other for almost two weeks and he hadn't even kissed me. I'd been dreaming of that kiss. It would be my first.
I was sixteen and I'd never kissed a boy. I'd never had the opportunity. Boys in Venton Heights never seemed interested in me for some reason or maybe I'd never had the time to notice. Since I was eight years old, most of my time was spent dancing. Stefan and Sean were the only two male dancers my age at Ms. Alexander's studio. They were twins and I wasn't attracted to them in any way, shape, or form. Most of the time I couldn't even tell them apart.
For over a year I had imagined my first kiss going to David Winthrop, but in the past two weeks, I looked forward to giving that honor to Will. Now I had doubts. Maybe Will wasn't for me.
I took out the sheet of paper Ashley had handed to me and read it while concealing it with my Spanish book. It was a copy of what looked like a score sheet for the Cherry Picker game. Will's name was in the top corner above a list of girl's names with a description of the sex act followed by the number of points awarded. My eyes watered and my lungs constricted as I read in lurid detail the things Will had done to or with other girls. Oral sex on a roller coaster, a threesome in his neighbor's hot tub, a virgin in a supermarket bathroom. I wanted to vomit. Was this the type of boy I was with?
My suspicions of Will possibly having another girl were starting to make sense. That's why he was always late. Maybe he was with other girls to keep his points up in the Cherry Picker game while he warmed me up in order to score super, mega, bonus points or something.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. There was no need to cry. Deep down I knew that wasn't true. The Will Maddox I'd gotten to know over the past two weeks wasn't using me for points. So why was my heartbeat accelerating making it hard for me to catch my breath? I couldn't figure out what bothered me so much. I mean, I already knew Will was promiscuous. The first two times I ever laid eyes on him, he'd just finished having sex in a public place. That wasn't the problem. It was in the past and I knew he really didn't want to be that person. That's why he told me he didn't like himself. This boy who brought me flowers at every opportunity for the past two weeks did not want to be a cherry picking power tool anymore.
But, on the other hand, it had only been two weeks. Who's to say that in two more weeks he wouldn't lapse into old habits once again? How many times did my father say he'd change? And how many years had things stayed exactly the same until my mother finally got tired of it and kicked him out? I didn't want a life like that.
Ashley's revelation of the Cherry Picker game didn't make me doubt Will's intentions. I knew he wanted to change. The question was, could he?
Chapter 11:
The Championship
"You miss class? What you mean you miss class? You sick?" Ms. Alexander asked as she felt my head. Sasha and I stopped by the studio on the way to Will's Championship game. Sasha didn't feel I needed to explain my absence to Ms. Alexander, but I knew I couldn't just not show up without letting her know. She would think I was hit by a bus or something. I hadn't missed a dance class since I was ten-years-old with the chicken pox. I actually tried to go to class and she sent me home so as not to infect the other dancers.
"No, I'm not sick."
"No sick, no miss class. Get dressed." Ms. Alexander turned her attention back to the sound system and started flipping through CD's.
I really wanted to see Will play. But I couldn't lie to Ms. Alexander. I felt trapped. I stared at her for a few minutes trying to think of something to say. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that I had to attend my pas de deux rehearsal.
I turned to go get changed when Sasha stepped in and said, "Ms. Alexander, I'm so sorry to disturb you, but our mother was in a horrible car accident just this morning. We've been by her side in the hospital all day. My sister is so committed to your dance program that she felt it absolutely necessary to tell you in person she couldn't attend and would rather be with our mother in her time of need."
"That true?" Ms. Alexander asked me. I started nodding furiously after Sasha pinched me hard in the back. "Why you no say that? Get out, go." She shooed us out with both hands.
"Oh, thank you for your understanding, Ms. Alexander," Sasha said graciously as a solitary tear streamed down her face. I stared at her in disbelief.
"Oh, don't give me that look," she said once we were outside. "You want to see Will don't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't want to lie. What if she finds out?"
"So what if she does. How many of your weekends have you given that woman? You deserve a night for yourself once in a while. Besides, it's Will Maddox. You can't pass that up."
She was right. I couldn't pass it up. I really wanted to get closer to him. I wanted to learn what drove him as a person. I wanted to figure out if he'd be strong enough to overcome the sex fiend personality he'd created for himself. Though we saw each other every day, I still didn't know a lot about him personally. Oddly enough, our conversations mostly revolved around opera music and fantasy basketball.
Even without him saying so specifically, I knew he had some pretty strange quirks. For instance, he always kept three green apple jolly ranchers in his left pocket, he always separated his food into three sections, he always wore the same "lucky" beat up red Converse All-Stars, he always carried his "lucky" basketball on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and if I ever asked him to turn a light off in a room, he always had to flip the switch three times instead of just once. His habits didn't bother me so much as they intrigued me. But I didn't feel comfortable asking him about them yet. I wanted to get to know him better and making the effort to see him play in the championship was an important step.
When the teams came out to warm up, Will looked around in the crowd until he saw me. He gave me a nod of the head then shot the ball from really far away and it went in. He smiled at me as if to say 'that was for you.' I couldn't help but grin. Sasha noticed it too.
"Aren't you glad you came?" she said into my ear.
I really didn't understand a lot of the game, but I did understand that Will was really good. He was really, really good. I mean almost every time he shot the ball, it went in. And he shot it from really far away. And the people on the other team must have realized it too because they kept knocking him over and hitting him and stuff. Will just picked himself up with a smile and took his free shots which also always went in.
I could see how happy playing basketball made him.
One time, however, they knocked him down and he didn't get up with a smile. The score was Bridgeton 77, other guys 72 in the fourth quarter with three minutes to go. Will stepped under the basket trying to get the ball when this obnoxious thug purposely elbowed him in the nose. Will went down with a thud and rolled around on his back clutching his face. I bolted out of my seat along with most of the audience trying to see if he was alright.
"Hey, that's not fair," I yelled. "Sasha, are they gonna just let that guy get away with that?"
"No, that's a flagrant foul. He'll get ejected," she said. I wanted to ask her to explain a flagrant foul, but I was too busy watching Will writhe in pain. He held his nose with both hands as blood seeped through his fingers. I felt my face flush with anger at his attacker and I felt the pain of his possibly broken nose. I blinked my tears away.
One of the other Bridgeton players lunged at the barbarian who attacked Will and within seconds, several players exchanged blows. Referees and coaches stormed the court trying to separate the boys. The crowd went insane.
It took twenty minutes to calm the boys down enough to resume the game. Six players were ejected and sent to the locker room. Even though Will didn't throw any punches, he also went to the locker room because the bleeding wouldn't stop.
Time ticked on and Will didn't emerge from the locker room. I worried not only about his well being, but also about the score. With two minutes left, Bridgeton was down by two points. The team needed him. The crowd chanted his last name. Maddox, Maddox, Maddox. But still he didn't come out. I thought we were doomed. Bridgeton was down by five points with 57 seconds left. Finally, when the clock read 39 seconds Will emerged from the locker room and immediately joined his floundering team on the court. I thought there was no way Bridgeton could possible come back with only 39 seconds, but, then again, I had never been to a basketball game before.
Will reminded me of Vaslov Lopokova of the Russian Ballet the way he covered the court with style, grace, and expertise. I never knew basketball could be so beautiful. When the other team had the ball, Will waved his arms in their face trying to steal it. Then suddenly, he snatched the ball away from an opposing player and made a mad dash in the other direction. He stopped short, shot the ball and it went in. Three points. Then the other team had the ball again.
"Why are they taking so long? Why are they moving so slowly?" I asked Sasha.
"They're trying to run out the clock," she said, enthralled with the action and annoyed with my ignorance. The clock continued to click, five seconds, four seconds, three seconds. And that annoying team just kept passing the ball back and forth, back and forth. Then, with two seconds left, Will came out of nowhere and snatched the ball out of the air as someone on the other team tried to pass it. The crowd went insane. Will barely dribbled once before he flung the ball nearly from half court as the buzzer rang. I think my heart stopped as the ball slammed against the backboard then bounced on the rim. But it started up again as soon as the ball fell in. Three points. Bridgeton won its first state championship in 18 years. Caught up with emotion and excitement, I stormed the court along with the rest of the Bridgeton Academy population.
All the Bridgeton students began a spontaneous rendition of the school fight song. I didn't know the words so I just weaved through the crowd in search of Will. I wanted to congratulate him on his victory, but he was nowhere to be found. Disappointed, I found Sasha and told her I wanted to go home. But she said, "Don't be ridiculous. The captain is throwing a victory party. You have to go. I guarantee he'll be there."
So I went to the party and walked around aimlessly for over an hour feeling extremely uncomfortable. I didn't know anyone there and Sasha disappeared twenty seconds after we arrived. I wandered into some sort of showroom inside the huge house and studied the artwork displayed. I wasn't a huge fan of art, but I did recognize some of the pieces and the quiet of the room really eased the headache the loud revelries of my drunken classmates had caused.
"Cool, I've been there," I said to no one at all as I picked up a book with the Louvre on the cover.
"You have? I thought you went to Spain. You were in France too?" Will said as he stepped up behind me.
I spun around so quickly that I actually lost my balance for a second. Will grabbed my elbow and steadied me.
"Um, while I was in Barcelona at the dance festival, some of us dancers went to Paris one weekend and did the tourist thing."
"I still can't believe you've danced in Europe. I've never met anyone who ever did something that...amazing."
"You're pretty amazing yourself. That was a great game. I guess your shoes are lucky."
"I don't think it was the shoes. I think it was you." Will smiled at me. "Here, this is for you," he said, handing me the basketball that had been tucked under his arm. It's the game ball. I want you to have it."
I accepted the ball and turned it over in my hands. On it he'd written the words 'Will and Sonya.' I was so touched my heart sashayed in my chest. "What no flowers?" I asked jokingly.
Will unraveled a devilish grin. "How dare you doubt me?" He opened his jacket and pulled out three white tulips. As he handed them to me, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. His lips lingered there. The ball slipped from my hands and bounced away. His arms wrapped around my waist as his lips brushed against my chin then down to my neck. A rush of heat filled me. His lips felt so good on my body. I had to admit that a part of me, a big part of me, really wanted him. I not only wanted Will to be my first kiss, I wanted him to be my first everything. But another big part of me couldn't get his Cherry Picking out of my head. Before I gave my heart to him, I needed to hear everything…in his own words. I needed him to tell me who he was and who he wanted to be. Of course, there was no assurance that he'd always be true to me, but at least I wouldn't be going in blind.
He had started kissing up my neck, sensually searching for my lips when I blurted, "Will, are you a top Cherry Picker?"
Will stopped abruptly and sighed, letting his head fall on my shoulder. Then he stood up straight and turned away from me. "Who told you about that? Was it Makenzie?"
"Who?"
"Closet Girl I guess you can call her." When I shook my head, he said, "Let me think, it must have been Ashley then." Will sat on the couch and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "Cherry Picker is a game some of the jocks made up. We earn points for different sexual acts."
I wasn't going to let him off that easy. "What kind of acts?"
He sighed again. "Are you sure you want to hear about this?"
I nodded.
He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, sex in a closet is more points than sex in a bedroom because of the risk of being caught. The more dangerous the location, the more points. You get triple points for a threesome and things like that."
"What about the girl?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you get more points for certain girls? Like virgins?"
Will bolted upright. "Do you think that's why I'm with you? Is that what Ashley told you?"
I nodded. "She showed me your score sheet."
"That bitch!" He kicked the coffee table. I didn't understand how he could let someone punch him in the nose on the basketball court and not show any signs of anger, yet Ashley telling me about Cherry Picker totally set him off. He was right though. It was a pretty bitchy thing to do. Could Ashley be a member of the Bitch Brigade?
Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "If you check the dates on that score sheet, you'll see that I haven't…added any points in over a month." He opened his eyes and looked directly at me as he said, "Sony, I've been with you for two weeks and I haven't even kissed you. Does it seem like I'm using you for sex?"
"No." My voice was small and unsure. "I know, at least I hope, you're not using me. I think you honestly think you like me. I'm just afraid of what will happen when you get tired of me and you're ready to
move on."
"Come here," he said patting the spot next to him on the couch. After I sat down, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the side of my head. "I've done a lot of things I regret. I told you when we first met that I didn't like myself." He pulled me tighter. "You have no reason to believe me. You have no reason to trust me. I'll understand if you think I'm completely disgusting and you never want to see me again. But talking to you, spending time with you, just being near you makes me the happiest I've been in…in a really long time. Please don't give up on me. Just give me a chance."
I lost track of time as we sat in a warm embrace. I closed my eyes and blocked Ashley out of my mind and concentrated only on Will. I couldn't give up on him. In the short time I'd known him, I'd felt grown so close to him. Already, I felt he was a part of me.
The Queen Bee of Bridgeton Page 6
