Crimson Catch (Game Time #1)

by S. M. Donaldson

  She gives me a small laugh. “Sure. Is there somewhere I should wait?”

  I motion over my shoulder. “Come on, we’ll study out in here.” I bring her to the den. “Have a seat, I’ll be right back.”

  She slowly sits on the couch and I run to my room to throw on some clothes. Returning a couple of minutes later, I see she has books spread out on the coffee table. “Okay, before we get started, I talked to Mrs. Jones today and she said the comparative essay would be a good idea for you. Although she did ask for it to be a thousand words longer, since technically you’ll have double the material to talk about.” I nod, I really don’t want to do an extra thousand words but if it keeps my ass off the bench and Coach, my dad and the town off my back then it’ll be worth it.

  “So I started that book this afternoon during Weight Training. It seems like a pretty good book so far. You’re right, I can relate to it. Although that one cheerleader is a bitch.” I see a small look of panic cross her face, but she replaces it with a smile.

  “Great. Now let’s get started on Geometry. Oh, I need you to drop me by the hardware store instead of home. I have to help James close up. My dad has a meeting.” She looks away as she says that part.

  Everyone knows her dad is at the bar. He’s the town folk legend. The could’ve, would’ve, should’ve story. As per usual for this town, though, no one actually talks about her dad’s drinking problem. “Okay, let’s get to it.”

  She gets started explaining the basics of Geometry. Most of the time that would irritate me, she was breaking it down like a child for me, but considering my last few quiz grades, I shouldn’t complain about her starting at the beginning.

  As if she’s reading my mind, she looks up at me. “Sorry, it’s just I find it easier to start at the beginning. That way I can see where you started getting lost.”

  I nod. “It’s fine. It’s a great idea.”

  “It’s difficult for me to see sometimes how Geometry is hard for people,” she says timidly. “I have a photographic memory and my brain just works that way. You know? It’s shapes and pictures. I can see the angles therefore I can understand them. So please, if I get crazy, stop me.”

  “That’s got to be nice for tests and stuff. Having a memory like that?”

  “Sometimes. There are things you don’t want to remember but they get stuck in your head, like a slide show.” She gives a little laugh.

  I can’t help but think she’s talking out my show this morning. She jumps right back to studying, though, keeping this determined look on her face the whole time she’s talking. Once we finish looking over all of my past quizzes and her quizzing me on the material, she leans back on the couch, settling her head against the back. That frumpy t-shirt falls back against her boobs, making me realize that she has a pretty nice set of them. Also, her hair has fallen back from her face and makes me see the shape and definition more. She’s really a pretty girl with a nice body, she just hides it.

  Just as I’m about to say something witty like I normally would to a great looking girl, I hear the front door slam. Brock comes stomping in the den and flops down on the couch beside me. “What’s up, dick lick?”

  My nose scrunches. “Dude, you freakin’ reek, go take a damn shower.”

  He tips his chin toward Joelle. I sigh. “Joelle, you know my brother, Brock. Brock, you know Joelle.” Why am I introducing them? We’ve all known each other for years. “She and I are working on some school stuff together.”

  He grins in her direction and does another chin lift, but cockier. “Hey, Joelle. What’s up, girl?”

  She gives a little laugh and starts packing up. “Just doing school work, Brock.” She looks at the clock on the wall. “I better get going.”

  I jump up from the couch, helping her with her bag. “Yeah, come on, I’ll take you back by the hardware store.”

  “Hey, Joelle, Janae talking to anyone?” Brock asks.

  Joelle rolls her eyes. “If you mean talking as in speaking…probably, she’s an eighth grade cheerleader, but if you mean talking like dating then I don’t know.”

  I snort at her smartass answer. She’s got a little bit of bite to her. I saw a little this morning with Ciara and now Brock. I shake my head and look at Brock. “Go take a shower, you stink.” I lead Joelle in front of me. “Come on.”

  “Thanks.” She starts for the door and I can’t help but try to check out her ass. It’s hard in those baggy jeans though. It’s not until we get to the car and she leans inside to put her bag in that I can actually see the shape of her ass…and it’s hot.

  On the way to the hardware store, we sit in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, she reaches for the radio. “Do you mind?”

  “As long as you don’t play country or some pop shit. I’m kind of an old school rock kinda guy,” I explain.

  She looks at me with a smirk. “Hmm. Never would’ve thought that of you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugs one shoulder. “You just seem like the type who likes the current crap on the radio. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few good pieces out there, but most of it’s not.”

  “Wow. Thanks,” I say dryly.

  “Sorry. It’s just you don’t really seem like someone who goes against the popular opinion.” She settles on a Tom Petty song.

  “Well, what’s something current you like? Something you think is a good piece as you put it?”

  She shrugs, “I like a new group Steele Total Destruction.”

  “You like that group that gets off on their name sounding like STD?”

  “Yes, they’re awesome.” Nothing else is said until we get to the hardware store.

  As she opens the door, she glances back at me. “Thanks for the ride. Let me know if you need to look back over something before your quiz. Until Tuesday, just read the book and get started on the comparative essay. I’ll plan to look over it then.”

  “Thanks again, Joelle.”

  She shrugs and shuts the door. I watch her as she enters the hardware store and I pull away.

  She really thinks I just go along with whatever is popular. I can’t believe that.

  Once I get home, Brock is showered and sitting in the kitchen. “What are we doing for supper?” he asks, munching on an apple.

  “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. If I had I would’ve stopped on the way home.” We knew our parents wouldn’t be in until really late.

  He stands up. “Let’s go to the Frosty King. I heard a bunch of the guys talking about going there tonight. I know Addison said something about being there, too.”

  The Frosty King is a small burger joint in town that everyone from school hangs out at. I roll my eyes at my brother. “Dude, you were just asking about Janae when Joelle was here.”

  “Hey, I was just making conversation. Dude, Joelle is kinda hot. No wonder you’re trying to hit that.” He smirks. My little brother is an ass. He’s dying to get his dick wet for the first time.

  I pop him in the back of the head. “Dude, we were working on school work. That is all. Not that it’s your business but she’s helping me. If I don’t bring my grades up, I don’t play. I don’t want Dad or the nosey bitches at school knowing either.” I glare at him. “You feel me?”

  He rolls his eyes and nods. “Yep. So let’s go eat. If Addison is there then that means Ciara is there, too. She’s thirsty for you, bro.”

  Thirsty is a term we use when a girl turns into a clinger, acting like you’re the last bottle of water in the desert. I shake my head. “Yeah, I know. I just wanna know why she’s acting so desperate about it.” I‘m actually serious, I’m used to girls throwing themselves at me a little, but she’s getting a little stalkery.

  Once we arrive, I see the full parking lot and I’m really regretting not grabbing food on the way home from dropping Joelle off. I’ve got to keep my head clear and yeah, getting my rocks off once in a while will help some with that, but I don’t need someone like Ciara trying to syphon off of me like a bab
y on a tit.

  Making our way through the crowd inside, we order our food. As I’m waiting, Ciara makes a beeline for me. “Where did you go after practice today?”

  I’m not sure why she feels like I need to explain this to her. I press my lips flat and then answer. “Well, not that it’s your business, but I had shit to do at home.”

  “Uh huh.” Once they hand me my food, I go over to a table hoping my brother is hot on my ass to take the seat next to me. No such luck. She plops down in the seat next to me. I don’t know why I’m so annoyed with her tonight.

  After listening to her complain and bitch about everyone we go to school with, I look up to see James come in the door. This is my damn chance. I quickly text him under the table.

  ME: Cap, I need you to come over here and say you need to talk to me. ASAP

  I feel my phone buzz, but I see James give me a nod.

  A few minutes later, he steps up to the table. “Hey, Sexy Ciara, I need to have a chat with my QB. Why don’t you go find another seat for a bit?”

  She grins. “Okay,” then she looks at me. “I’ll see you later. Maybe let you cash in one of the coupons.” She winks before she walks away,

  “Dude, what’s wrong with you?” James says, taking a big bite of his burger.

  “Ciara is turning into a clinger. I’m trying to keep my head clear and take this tutoring thing seriously with Joelle. Then Ciara comes up all Jezebel in a cheerleader outfit. I just need some time. That’s all.” I let out a huge sigh after that.

  He nods. “Okay, man. I know a lot of pressure is on you. If I see her coming your way, I’ll try to play defense.”

  “Thanks, man. Normally I’d be all up for the attention, hell, I was up for it this morning. Now, I don’t know.”

  He nods. “Bud, you’re feeling the weight of this town on your shoulders. I get it. I really do. How many people do you think expected a shit ton more from me on the field because of my dad? Let’s just say I’m a disappointment,” he finishes as he stuffs another bite in his mouth.

  Man, that really is screwed up. I mean I’ve always heard that their dad was awesome, I guess I just didn’t realize how much. “Sorry. That’s fucked up.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah, it is.” I get shit from my dad, but the entire town, not even by your own choice? That sucks. Hell, Joelle must feel it even more since she doesn’t fit the athletic family.

  It hits me. “Where is Joelle?”

  He takes a sip of his drink. “She hates this place. She’s finishing up at the store, probably practicing for her show Friday night where people aren’t yelling at her to stop. She likes to practice after the place closes.” He shrugs. “Mom can’t stand it at the house so it just works out. I’ll swing back by and pick her up when I’m done. I was fucking starving though.”

  I look across the room to see my brother flirting with Addison. I shake my head as I finish my last sip of my drink. I grab my tray and stand up. “Thanks for the save, man. I owe you. I’m gonna head out.”

  He nods as he’s starting on his second burger. I walk over to my brother. “I gotta run to the store. I’ll swing back by in a little bit.”

  He nods. “Okay, bro. See you in a bit.”

  I look over to see James occupied by a blonde named Karly from his class. I think for a few minutes. Am I really going to do this? But today with her, I was relaxed. I didn’t feel pressure. Walking out to my car, my decision is made.

  Driving the few blocks over to the hardware store doesn’t take long. I look through the window and I can see her toward the back of the store. I tap on the window until she sees me. Standing up, she walks toward me. She still has on her baggy jeans, but she is in a tight white tank top now. Fuck, that body.

  CHAPTER 6

  Joelle-

  Taking a break from my drums, I hear tapping. I look up to see Collin at the front widow. What is he doing here? I stand up and walk toward the front of the store. I’m a sweaty mess right now. I unlock the front door and swing it open. “Hey, what’s up?”

  He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Nothing really, my brother just wanted to hang out at the King and I was kinda over it. James said you were here.” He shrugs his shoulders forward. “I thought maybe I’d see if you wanted to hang out a little before I go back to pick him up.”

  I step back and let him in. I don’t know why, I mean it’s not like we hang out. As we walk by the counter, I grab my t-shirt and wipe my face with it. “Sorry I’m all sweaty. I was practicing.”

  He laughs. “I see that. I don’t know why I didn’t picture you as a drum player.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Why, because I’m a girl?”

  He smirks. “No, you would strike me as more of a flute player.”

  I start redoing my ponytail to get the loose pieces up. “I swear to God, if you make some reference to that old American Pie movie about a flute and my pussy, I’m gonna punch you in the balls.”

  I notice him staring at me for some reason, then he shakes out of it. “No, let’s not do that. I’m sorry. You must get that a lot.”

  “Yes, I do. It was funny the first twelve times, not so much after that.” I turn around to grab my bottle of water, putting it to my mouth and chugging about half of it.

  “What the hell is that on your shoulders?” he asks louder than he should.

  “What are you-?” Before I can finish the question, he’s touching my shoulders.

  “Here. These bruises. What are they from?”

  “Oh. Those are from my quints. The pads have been shot for years so it’s pretty much just metal now. My shoulders stay bruised during marching season.” His hand glides across one of the spots, sending a small shiver down my spine.

  “Why don’t you fix them so that you don’t get bruises? Those look bad,” he says with sincere concern in his voice.

  “I do fix them with pipe insulation and electrical tape from here at the store, but it doesn’t last very long. So I just deal with it,” I say as I reach down to pick up one of the drums in my set.

  He grabs the one beside it and looks at me. “Holy shit. This is heavier than I thought.” He glances over at me holding the bigger one. “Shit, you’ve got some guns, girl.”

  I laugh, walking down the hallway to the storage room I use. “Just sit it down over there. I store them in this room.”

  As we walk back out for the other one, he asks, “So why doesn’t the band department have them fixed? I mean if my pads were messed up, I wouldn’t fix them, the athletic department would.”

  I shake my head. He truly has golden boy, rich kid problems. “This may come as a shock to you, but most of our budget is burnt up traveling to away football games. We get about a tenth of what the athletics department gets. We all pay fees at the beginning of the year and do a couple of fundraisers. That’s all the money we have. So little things like my shoulder pads, that’s not a big deal.” I shrug. “A few years ago the band ran the concessions at the home games, but once the Touchdown Club figured out how much they made in there, they complained to the principal that since it was an athletic event, they should get all the monies. So the band lost the concession stand.”

  He’s in shock, I can see it on his face. “That’s bullshit. So basically the band spends its money for the football team and gets no respect for it?”

  As I grab another couple of pieces from my set, I look over my shoulder. “Yeah, but that’s life in a southern football town.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know,” he says with shock still in his voice.

  “It’s not a big deal, you grew up in the elite football crowd. It’s not like you paid attention to the rest of the world,” I say snarkier than I meant to.

  “Damn, kitten has claws.” He chuckles as we walk back from putting the last piece away.

  “Sorry. It’s just a touchy subject around my house. I mean my family doesn’t see that. My brother appreciates the fact that I’m at the games to help cheer him on, especially since I could never
be a cheerleader.” I snort. “My little sister, I swear she wants to try out for the Queen Bs. My mom and dad don’t see what I do as hard work, they see it as a club.”

  He leans back against the counter. “I’m sorry to say that I haven’t watched a show either, but you were working your ass off when I got here.”

  “Well, that’d be hard since you’re in the locker room during half-time. But thanks, I do work my ass off,” I say playfully.

  He grins. “I guess so, but I could stick around and watch a practice one afternoon after mine is over.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “So your brother never sticks around after practice to watch you?” he asks, genuinely curious.

  “No, we have to take turns here so he comes straight here. Normally, I’ve just left,” I say honestly.

  “I know you obviously don’t play a set like you have here. Which type of drum do you play?”

  I just told him a minute ago. “I play the quints.” He looks at me confused. “It’s got five tenor drums. Get it, quint as in five?”

  “Oh, wow. I thought maybe you were so strong from carrying that big drum around, not five.”

  “You know the saying, go big or go home." Holy crap, I’m flirting. Not great but I am. Suddenly, I feel uncomfortable. I reach over, grabbing my t-shirt and slip it back on over my tank.

  “So your brother said you didn’t want to go to the Frosty King. I never see you there, why not?” he asks, finding a stool and making himself comfortable.

  I lift one shoulder. “I just feel out of place there. Plus, I cannot stand to hear Ciara’s voice.” Shit. I cover my mouth. I’ve got to start controlling my mouth better. “Sorry, I know you’re talking to her and all.”

  “I’m not talking to her. What you saw this morning was a mistake on my part. She’s supposed to be my football buddy. I let myself get a little too excited,” he says, frowning at the thought.

  “Hey, I guess it happens.” That was a dumb response.

  We’re interrupted when my brother walks in. “Hey, Atwood. What are you doing here?”