Crimson Catch (Game Time #1)

by S. M. Donaldson

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s wrong?” she says with that fake pouty voice that’s annoying as hell. “Do you need a release? I know where we can go.”

  I pull my arm from hers. “Sorry. No, I need to get to class.”

  I walk away before she has a chance to respond.

  ~*~*~

  Walking into the school cafeteria for dinner normally wouldn’t be a great thing, but tonight the Touchdown Club is feeding us. I see Mr. and Mrs. Prescott bringing out large pans of something. I sit and joke with the guys until it’s time to fix our plates. Making my way through the line, I see Joelle. She has her hair pulled into a low ponytail. It’s easier to see her face when she wears it like this, but it’s sexy when she wears it down. I see Booker talking to her as she serves him. She gives him an uncomfortable smile and nods. I make my way down the line to where she’s handing out the salads.

  “How’s serving duty going?” I say with a smile.

  She rolls her eyes. “Just peachy.”

  “Well, you should be done soon. Are you going to eat with us?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No, I won’t have time. I have to get to the field. Hopefully this will wrap up soon so I can get through cleaning up and go.”

  “You have to clean up, too?” I inquire with a little too much defensiveness in my voice. What is it about this damn girl that makes me grow a vagina? I need to stop.

  “Normally, yeah.” She sighs.

  Being the cocky shit I am, I wink. “Leave it to me.”

  She points at me. “Don’t.”

  I walk away before she can say anything else. Looking around the room, I see that most of the cheerleaders are sitting together, but Ciara is trying to wave me over. I ignore her and take a seat next to Prescott. “Hey, Cap.”

  “Hey, man. How’s it going?” he says with his mouth full.

  I nod as I’m putting my dressing on my salad. “Good. Your sister is a great damn tutor, man.”

  He swallows. “I knew she would be. I wish I’d gotten her damn brain.”

  “Hey, she said she has to stay and clean up. I needed to ask her some questions though. You think your parents would let her leave with me and I can just take her to the field? It’s about that English assignment she got me.” I put on my best desperate act.

  He nods. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”

  I slap his back. “Thanks. I plan to dive into it this weekend, but I need to ask her some stuff first.”

  He nods as he chews and motions his mom over. “Mom?”

  “James, swallow your food before you talk. You’re going to choke one of these days,” she reprimands.

  He quickly explains the situation to her and she smiles at me. “I think we can handle the clean up without her. When you’re finished, just grab her and go.”

  “Well, she hasn’t gotten to eat yet,” I voice with concern.

  Her mom shakes her head. “She never eats here anyway.” With an exasperated expression, she continues, “I think she’d rather die than be caught supporting her brother, or any sport for that matter.”

  That hits me wrong. “She does support us. She’s at every football game. Yes, she’s in the band, but they’re supporting us.”

  Her mom smiles and pats my shoulder as if she’s trying to pacify me. “That’s a sweet way to think about it. Now, you just go whenever you need to so that you can be to the field on time.”

  She turns, walking away as I look at Prescott with a questioning face. He shakes his head. “They’ll never see the band as being any support for the football team. Don’t waste your breath, bro.”

  “It shouldn’t be that way, man. They need to come watch her bust her ass at practice one day. Did you know she keeps damn bruises on her shoulders from her drums not having the proper padding? I stayed after yesterday for their practice. They work fucking hard and this school gives them a big fat zero in return.” Damn it, I’m letting this get to me too much. I have to calm this shit down. I shake my head and begin to scarf down my food. I’m ready to get out of here before someone else corners me about getting us to State.

  As soon as I trash my plate, I walk to the serving line where Joelle still stands. “Hey, come on, let’s go.”

  She looks at me with questions in her eyes. “What?”

  “Come on, I cleared it with your mom and everything. Let’s go.” I reach down and grab the bag I know is hers and she scurries out the door behind me.

  Once we are inside my car, she glares at me. “What the fuck, Atwood? Just who in the hell do you think you are?”

  No one talks to me like that, especially any girl I know. “Who the hell am I? I’m the asshole who wants you to get to the field on time and not be cleaning up after assholes who don’t appreciate you.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing those glorious tits up. “Just so you know, I don’t need someone to fight my battles for me.” Her voice goes up a little.

  Putting my car in first gear, I gun it out of the parking lot, barking tires as gravel flies.

  “Look, Collin, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but whatever it is you can pull this car over and let me out. Right now!” I see the fear in her eyes. I’m so damn stupid. She’s used to being in control, she’s not used to some jock like me trying to be in charge.

  I slow down. “Sorry. I just got ill back there. Your mom kinda pissed me off. I don’t want to be caught alone with Ciara and I saw Booker trying to talk to you.”

  She sighs and slumps her head back against the seat. “Okay, let’s address these one at the time. What did my mom say to piss you off?”

  I shake my head. “Just how she acted about you when I asked if you could leave with me. She completely disregarded what you do and that drives me nuts.”

  She laughs. “After almost sixteen years, I’ve gotten used to it. Now, the Ciara thing?”

  “She keeps trying to jump me every time she gets around me. I’m trying to be nice and let her know I’m not interested but it doesn’t seem to be working,” I say, letting out a huge sigh.

  She snorts. “Well, you probably shouldn’t have put your junk in her mouth and she wouldn’t be so confused thinking you’re interested. Now, what’s the big deal about Booker? I’ve known him forever and he’s a douche. What’s new?”

  “What was he saying to you back there?” I inquire.

  “Well, he was asking me about going to his party tonight after the game.” She shrugs. “I told him maybe. That was just so he’d shut up and move on. I don’t ever go to stuff like that anyway. James would throw a fit, he doesn’t want me around his social setting.”

  What the hell? Does she just let everyone treat her like crap on the bottom of their shoe?

  Before I can stop myself, the words tumble from my mouth. “Why don’t you come with me to the party? Just as friends,” I rush to explain. “Keep me from doing anything stupid…like Ciara.”

  “I’m your tutor, not your ho’s anonymous sponsor,” she quips. “I don’t need to go for that. I just want to go home after this game. It’s been a long day.”

  Finally pulling up to the field, I get out of my Mustang. Resting my elbows on the roof, I look at her and sigh, telling her a partial truth. “Fine, come with me because you’re the only person I can stand to talk to lately. You’re the only person who isn’t trying to tell me how important the game is to my future, this town or the school. Just come keep me company and when you’re ready to go home, I’ll take you. Please?”

  She stands there thinking, keeping me in suspense. “Fine. I’ll wait here by your car after the game.”

  I quickly hit the lock button and jog to the field house to get ready for the game. Just before I reach the door, something makes me take one last look back at her. She’s now walking with one of the people from band and laughing. I like seeing her smile and laugh, she doesn’t do that enough.

  CHAPTER 10

  Joelle-

  Clem runs up to me as I leave
the bathroom from changing into my uniform. “Hey, chica, what’s up? I figured you’d be late getting here. I was already preparing my groveling statement on your behalf to Mr. Clark so you wouldn’t have to sit in the stands during third quarter.”

  Third quarter is our free quarter. The only time of the game we are free to roam, since we perform in the stands during the other three quarters and during half time. Also new for this year, we do a post-show performance.

  “I saw you getting out of the mustang,” she deadpans.

  “We needed to talk about his paper. My mom let me out on parole. Apparently helping a football player is good behavior,” I quip.

  “So you know people are going to start running their mouths, right?” She shakes her head. “Gotta love a small town.”

  I get defensive. “We’re just friends. Well, kind of friends, not even really friends though.”

  She tilts her head to the side and rolls her eyes. “I know this shit, but you know there isn’t enough shiny objects in this town to catch people’s attention. So they focus on what’s in front of their face and make shit up if there’s nothing there to talk about.”

  I laugh. “Really, you think people are going to wonder about the homely band geek dating the star quarterback? I doubt that. Us dating, not a possibility,” I say, shaking my head and still laughing.

  She puts her hands up defensively. “I’m just saying what people are going to read into it. I just think-.”

  Before she can finish, she’s cut off by the Queen Bs. “Hey, Clementine,” Ciara says sweetly. Then she turns to me. “Joelle,” she sneers.

  I look at her with what I’m sure is my best go to hell expression. “Yes, my name is Joelle and you are Ciara. Good to know you haven’t been dropped on your head too many times.”

  She rolls her eyes and motions for her girls to follow her. I laugh. “She must have had to walk away to think of a comeback.”

  Clem shakes her head. “You’re on her radar. Watch it.”

  I scoff, “Whatever. I’m not worried about her. I think the bleach chemicals are getting to her brain or maybe she’s hit her head one too many times on the bottom of a steering wheel.”

  Clem touches my arm. “She’s a nosey bitch and I can’t stand her, but I tolerate her. You have something to hide. If you piss her rabid ass off, she will find out and everyone, including your family, will know.”

  “Ugh. Fine, I’ll try to be nicer.” I sigh.

  “Just keep yourself off her radar. Don’t be in the same place she is,” she says, lowering her gaze at me.

  Fuck, the party.

  “Collin asked me to go with him to Booker’s tonight.” I put my hands up. “Just as friends,” I emphasize.

  “Shit.” I can tell she’s thinking. “Just ask if I can ride with you guys. That way it doesn’t look the way it looked when you two pulled up at this field earlier.”

  “I thought you were riding with Harrison.”

  She sighs. “He has to go to his grandmother’s and I don’t want to go. He can just meet me there.”

  “Why don’t you want to go to his grandmother’s?” I ask. “You always go with him.”

  “Tonight’s her birthday dinner. That’s what couples do. We aren’t a couple,” she replies plainly.

  I shake my head. “So what are you then? Friends with benefits?”

  She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What benefits?” she says dryly.

  Before I can reply, we hear a whistle shrill through the air. That’s Mr. Clark. That man can whistle loud enough that if the refs lost theirs, he could stand in. It’s also our signal to get our asses to the stands and be ready to go.

  We both quickly get to the stands and get ready to play. I watch as the cheerleaders run out to the end zone and start getting the run-through spirit banner ready.

  I can hear the players start their chant once they get behind the banner. My brother’s voice echoes, “What time is it?” The players chant. “GAME TIME!” “What time is it?” “GAME TIME! GAME TIME! GAME TIME!”

  I hear the cheer start and get ready with my drums. “Go Crimson! Go White! The bulldogs are ready for a fight! Go Crimson! Go White! The bulldogs are ready for a fight!”

  Mr. Clark holds his arms up, looking over his shoulder at the guys. “One two, one two, ready play.”

  We play our fight song as they run, tearing through the paper banner.

  After we finish, we watch as my brother goes to the center of the field with the refs to meet Monroe’s captain for the coin toss.

  The PA system keeps us informed. “The Bulldogs got the coin toss and have elected to receive.”

  The minutes start to fly by. I’m keeping closer tabs on the game than I normally do. Everyone is right, Collin has talent, but Booker has let him get sacked twice tonight.

  Which Monroe is fast, don’t get me wrong. Instead of just the offense having speed, their defense has speed, too. Where normally our offense has a second or two to cover Collin, Monroe’s speed is getting past that tonight.

  Before I realize it, it’s time to get lined up on the sidelines. The buzzer sounds for half-time and we watch as Monroe’s band of close to two hundred march from the sidelines.

  Vivian, one of the cheerleaders who also plays an instrument, makes eye contact with me. She shakes her head and looks back at Monroe doing their show. Their band director went with Hollywood Blockbusters as their theme this year. Every year some school does it. If I have to hear the damn theme from “Indiana Jones” one more time, I swear I’m going to puke. That’s something I like about our band director, we end up with some awesome music. Most of the time it’s not a particular theme per se, just fun music. This year, though, our show is a tribute to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Which is hard as hell but awesome all the same. A couple of the guys are staying in the pit this year with the amp on bass and guitar.

  As soon as Monroe finishes, we are lined up. I hear our ticks.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Mr. Clark speaks from the press box. “On behalf of Superintendent John Wright, Principal Wade Locke and Assistant Principal Lori Gellar, Everly High School proudly presents the Pride of Everly Marching Band. The band is under the direction of Martin Clark and under the field direction of Macy Jones. Drum Major, is your band ready? We now present to you a Tribute to Lynyrd Skynyrd.”

  Macy takes control from her stand and we do our best to rock this stadium.

  CHAPTER 11

  Collin-

  The coach has finished talking and I’m trying to rest my shoulder. I took a couple of hard hits. Prescott sits down next to me. “You okay, Atwood?”

  I give my head a little shake. “Yeah, I just got my bell rung a little out there.” I lean closer to him and mumble. “A couple of the linemen are dragging ass tonight. My arm got nailed pretty good.”

  He leans his head back in the lockers. “Fuck.”

  I hear one of the guys that’s close to the door ask about the music they hear. Jinks looks over at Prescott. “Dude, is that the band playing some Skynyrd out there?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “How should I know?”

  Before I can say anything, Jinks does. “Dude, your sister plays in the band. I saw her when I was waiting on my ride the other day. She wails on those damn drums. Looks kinda hot.”

  James looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Man, that’s my freakin’ sister.”

  I look to Jinks. “Yeah, man, they are doing a kick ass Lynyrd Skynyrd half-time show this year.”

  Everyone’s eyes turn to me. I speak up. “I watched them the other day after practice.” I give a small nod. “They kick ass. Their damn director is like boot camp crazy out there.”

  Another one of the guys who used to be in band laughs. “Yeah, he’s kind of a hard ass. But he knows his shit. What’s the song line up? I haven’t even gotten to listen.”

  I think for a second. “I think it’s Sweet Home Alabama, Gimm
e Three Steps and a shortened version of Freebird. I’m telling you guys, I was amazed.”

  Booker makes eye contact with me and cocks his head to the side. “What has you so interested in the band? Thinking of joining so you can stay on your feet a little better?” he sneers.

  Before I can mouth off, Coach Zick comes in. “All right, guys, let’s go finish up this second half. Monroe might have a few more players, but you guys are better players, so let’s go.”

  Grabbing up our helmets, we run out the door of the locker room. Defense is taking the field first this time. Booker keeps glaring at me. Finally, I’ve had enough and I walk over to him. “What is your deal, man?”

  He smirks. “Nothing.”

  “No, seriously, you’ve been a dick all night. What’s going on?”

  Before he can answer, we get called on the field. One of our guys intercepted the ball.

  The rest of the game flies by, but due to the fact that I got sacked three times during this half, we only won by seven when it should’ve been at least twenty-one.

  I tip my head up at Joelle, but she’s in serious mode. I guess they are doing another show after the game. I’ll go take a quick shower then.

  Once I’m in the locker room, I see James waiting. As I start to undress, he looks at me. “What’s going on with you and my sister?”

  I look at him like he’s crazy. “Just friends. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is it’s starting to look like more than friends. People see you talking to her all the time and now you’re hanging out to watch her practice and shit,” he accuses.

  I take a step back. “First off, I do consider her a friend. Friend’s talk to each other. I also came to see her practice to support her, since the tutoring thing is supporting me. And also because no one else in her life seems to give a shit how hard she busts her ass on that field,” I say a lot stronger than I intended to. I turn to walk away, but spin back around. “I’d be a really lucky guy if she wanted to be more than friends, but I can tell her self-esteem has been beat down so much that she thinks she isn’t worth it. Which is bullshit and says a lot about the other people in her life.” This time I just grab my bag and walk back to the showers.