ONE OF THEM IS ACTUALLY TWENTY.
Not helping.
YOU THINK I’D LET SOME MEATHEAD INJURE MY ONLY BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER?
I could see it happening, yeah.
WHA— WELL I WOULDN’T.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
THAT’S KIND OF NOT THE POINT.
The point of what?
FAITH.
Why do I need faith when I have you?
THERE’S MORE TO FAITH THAN JUST BELIEVING IN ME.
Like what?
LIKE BELIEVING IN YOURSELF. TAKING THAT LEAP AND TRUSTING THAT THE NET WILL APPEAR. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU BUILT THE DAMNED NET BEFORE YOU TOOK A LEAP AND BASED UPON A BATTERY OF TESTS AND OBSERVABLE PATTERNS, THE ODDS HEAVILY FAVOR THAT THE NET WILL NOT DISAPPEAR.
Wait … explain that again?
IT’S CALLED PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY.
And why’s that important?
IT’S PART OF GROWING UP.
Oh okay. Believing in yourself is growing up.
“So as long as we stick to our game plan and rush their QB like he just slapped your grandma, we got this.” Coach Rex nodded slowly and continually as he spoke, and a few of the players nodded along with him. “Now, I’m not going to tell you this will be easy, but I will tell you that bravery will get you far. It’s time to sac up”—he looked at Jess—“figuratively. Tonight’s the night you prove your worth as a man”—he nodded her direction again—“or woman, I guess … I don’t know how that works.”
She shrugged it off and looked up from the huddle and over at the cameras. Her eyes found Maria Flores, and the woman glanced her way and waved. Jess nodded back and smiled. Well, at least she knew someone had her back. The story Maria had broadcast on the local station was exactly as she’d promised—positive, straightforward, honest without flourish. Which, as it turned out, meant hardly anyone watched it all the way through, and those who did tended to be those who already agreed with the story. But that was to be expected and it didn’t matter to Jessica. At least she now knew that Maria was who she claimed to be, and that was another possible ally in Jessica’s crusade to make herself more likable and eventually less killable.
And then Jess’s eyes landed on another familiar face, which looked completely out of place at a football game …
Once they broke the huddle, Jess jogged to the fence that separated the field from the stands. “Mom!”
Destinee was just making her way up the stands when she paused and turned to look. She waved and headed back down.
Jess climbed the chainlink so she didn’t have to crane her neck so far. “Hey, I thought you had to work again tonight,” she said.
Destinee shook her head. “I asked off. I can’t miss seeing you kick Compton’s ass.” She smiled. “How you feeling?”
Jess shrugged. “Good for the most part. Wish Eugene Thornton wasn’t here.”
Destinee’s eyes went wide and she turned her head from side to side, scanning for him. “Where’s he at? His face has a hot date with my fist.”
“No,” Jess said. “Please don’t. It’s not worth it. I’m just not sure I want to give him the footage he wants.”
Destinee waved her off. “Nah. Fuck that guy. Just do your thing. You can’t let one asswipe ruin your day.”
“That’s probably true.” Jess’s eyes scanned the crowd and then her spirits sank again. “But what about two asswipes?”
Destinee turned to follow Jess’s gaze. “Greg? Which one is he? Doesn’t matter. I’ll ask Miranda.”
“Mom, no! He’s just a boy. Don’t … It’s fine.”
It was clear her mother didn’t feel that way. “For the record, I’m not going to talk to him, even though I really want to.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I guess. Oh, and by the way, if you see me kiss one of the wide receivers, it’s just a fake relationship to make Greg jealous, so don’t get all excited.”
Had her mother ever looked at her that way? Her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline, and she tucked her chin in and then laughed. “Damn! That’s calculated, Jess … I’m proud of you.” She chuckled again and said, mostly to herself, “My daughter’s got a spite boyfriend. Nice.” Then she shifted gears. “Hey, speaking of spite boyfriends, you talk to your Father lately?”
Jess shook her head. “Only briefly. I think there’s a war going on somewhere.”
Destinee pressed her lips together. “There’s always a war going on. That’s hardly an excuse for an omnipotent being. Well, if you hear from him anytime soon, tell him my car insurance payment is due and I’m a little short, so if he could throw a good scratch-off my way, it would be the godly thing to do.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let him know.”
Destinee pointed at her. “Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” She turned and looked back at the field, where the refs were conducting the coin toss in the center. “I gotta run. I think Miranda said her mom was coming, if you want to keep an eye out for her.”
“Sounds good. Good luck, baby!”
Destinee turned and began up the stairs again, and Jess ran to grab her helmet for kickoff.
On her way onto the field, she felt a hand come down hard on her butt. She whirled around and saw Quentin grinning at her. He nodded a what’s-up and she smiled back at him.
But she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, the guys smacked each other’s butt all the time and it was no big deal. She even smacked an occasional ass when the timing felt ripe. But none of them had ever done it to her, and the fact that it was the one she was fake-dating did complicate—
“McCloud!”
She looked in the direction of the voice and saw Colton staring at her. Oh right. It was time to kick the ball. How long had they been waiting on her? She ran forward and kicked the ball, placing it on the two-yard line. The player from Compton was smart enough to call a fair catch.
“Head in the game, McCloud,” Coach Rex barked as she trotted off the field.
It wasn’t like she’d botched the kick or anything. But he was right. Getting her head in the game might be a nice break from everything else anyway.
The rest of the first half was brutal. Each team suffered multiple player injuries and it was clear more were on the way if things kept up. Chris charged onto the sidelines just a minute before half, having been shut down on a third and one and claiming the ref missed an obvious face mask that should’ve given them a first down. He was still shouting about it as Jessica jogged onto the field to kick the thirty-yard field goal that put them down by three when it was finally time to head into the locker room to regroup.
As they took a seat on the benches around the lockers, Chris found Jess and held out his hand. She fived him.
“Good kick.” Why did he always say that? It was a miracle kick. She didn’t deserve the praise.
He plopped down next to her on the bench, red-faced and breathing heavy, and Coach Rex motioned for everyone to settle down and listen up. When they didn’t, he said, “All right. Settle down and listen up.” That worked.
He dove into a new game plan for the offense so that Chris wouldn’t end up getting sacked so much by the juicers from Compton, and once that was done, he told them to “just play your game,” and then waxed philosophical about perseverance and hard-working Texan values.
“Now let’s get out there and win this game! We don’t want to have to rely on Jess to drag our asses out of the mud three-points at a time.”
“I don’t know, Coach,” Eddie said, “that sounds like something I could get on board with. I mean, we know she’s good for the points.”
“Dammit, Hernandez! No! We want to win this thing as a team!”
Jess snuck a sideways glance at Chris, who was holding back a smile.
“All right, guys, bring it in.” Coach Rex held out his hand and everyone else piled theirs on top.
“Mexicans on tres!” Romeo shouted, and then he took them out of halftime with a yell.
; * * *
The ball sailed end over end as it passed between the uprights, behind which the clock on the scoreboard ticked down to zero seconds. Immediately, Jess knew this wouldn’t be good. For a girl to kick a winning field goal in a big rivalry game was already enough to get some heavy statewide media attention—maybe even national. The fact that it was a fifty-three–yard field goal meant that things might just get out of hand soon. It wasn’t the first field goal she’d kicked that game, but it was a noteworthy one, and while she knew it was nothing compared to what she could do, it was still incredible when compared with any other high school kicker.
She’d helped her team win the game, but she’d lost her standoff with Eugene.
She could hear the crowd roaring to her left, and all she thought was, Well, shit.
AND IT WAS GOOD!
Not you. Not right now.
I’M PROUD.
Of what? I just threw myself in front of a bus.
IT’S CALLED SACRIFICE.
Then sacrifice sucks. Oh, and by the way, Mom wanted you to toss her a good scratch-off this month.
She didn’t hear a reply, so hopefully He’d split.
And just in time. Quentin caught up to her, yanked off her helmet, and planted a big kiss on her mouth.
Oh yeah. People are cheering. I guess we did just beat Compton.
She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back out of habit and for a moment thought, Take that, Greg! before she realized that Greg wasn’t the only person who could see her. Everyone in the whole town and maybe a few other towns, was at the game, and now they all thought she was dating Quentin.
Well, there were worse things people could assume about her than the fact that she had a boyfriend. There were worse things people did assume about her.
He set her back down just before she was swallowed up by a tidal wave of teammates. She never truly knew how pungent a swarm of football players could be until they were all circled around her with their arms raised toward the sky. Eventually she was able to cough her way free of it, and she made it over to the bench to get some water before heading to the boys’ locker room for a speech and more high-fives, and then the girls’ locker room for a much-needed shower to remove the lingering funk of myriad armpits. Once she was dressed, she walked out and was greeted by more reporters than she knew the region even had. Why were there so many news stations if they all covered the same thing?
“Jess, who was the boy you were kissing? Does Chris know?” It was Eugene. She glared at him, puffed out her lips and arched a brow before shouldering her way past him.
Maria Flores caught her eye next and asked, “Jess, what do you attribute your abilities to?”
The woman was all right, so Jess shrugged and replied begrudgingly, “God, actually. Maybe Jesus? I guess it was a team effort.”
Once she was on the other side of the throng, she spotted Chris, who looked hassled and concerned. He leaned in close. “You didn’t say anything to them, did you?”
“Nothing important,” Jess said, but immediately she regretting speaking to Maria. Surely other reporters caught the sound bite, too, and who knew how they’d twist it. Dammit.
It only took a moment before the reporters encircled both Jess and Chris with cameras in all directions.
“Come on, guys,” Chris said, trying to gently move a camera out of his face.
Above the crowd, Eugene hollered, “Chris! How do you feel about Jessica’s kiss with the other boy?”
“Don’t answer,” Jess hissed. “Don’t give him anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Chris mumbled.
Suddenly two reporters flew sideways away from each other, and in their place stood Romeo and Colton. “Looks like it’s time to get going,” said Colton.
Behind him stood the offensive line, and they managed to hold back the reporters while Chris and Jess scurried ahead toward the stadium exit, where only a massive crowd stood between them and freedom.
Jess spotted Destinee standing in close proximity to Coach Rex, chatting animatedly with the man until both of them laughed, Destinee more wildly, Coach Rex only chuckling and looking shyly at the ground. Did they know each other? Coach looked maybe ten years her mother’s senior, but maybe they went to school together. She wondered if Rex was from Mooretown or not.
“Mom!” she hollered.
Destinee looked up and waved to Jess, before turning back toward Coach Rex. “Mom!” Jess shouted again. When Destinee glanced back over, she seemed impatient, so Jess motioned that she’d call her later, pointed at Chris, and then mimed eating her hand. Destinee nodded, apparently getting the message, before returning to her conversation with the coach.
Quentin was waiting for them just shy of where the crowd gathered around the gates and he nodded at Chris, then reached out for Jess. She grabbed his hand and he cleared the way ahead of her while she tried her best to soak up the congratulations and ignore the scattered accusations of witchcraft that had become part of her Friday night routine. A denser crowd meant a higher volume of haters, but the accusations lacked their usual luster, and she assumed that was because her supposed voodoo had benefitted the home team. So that was some small comfort, she supposed. Before she made it out of the fray, though, she spotted a tight group of folks dressed head to toe in white and standing silently, all their eyes turned judgmentally upon her except for one set, which she couldn’t see, due to the man having his back to her. Who in her Father’s name were these …
Then the man turned around and it started to make sense. Jimmy. He nodded at her like an old friend and as a reflex she nodded back before he hollered, “Sumus omnes porcos,” and the rest of the group responded with, “Sed Deus est Aper!”
She should have expected as much. She shook her head faintly and let Quentin continue to pull her through the throng with Chris bringing up the rear.
When the three of them finally made it to Quentin’s car, he opened the passenger door for her.
“Nah, dude, I can take her,” Chris said.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Quentin replied. “It makes no sense for you to take her when her fake boyfriend could instead.”
Chris looked at Jess, like he expected her to back him up, but Quentin had a point, so she shrugged. “He’s right. I’ll see you there.” She gazed back at the crowd that was heading their way. “We better get a move on.”
Chris scoffed but headed off to his truck at the back of the parking lot.
“Damn,” said Quentin as he watched Chris disappear.
“What?”
He walked around to the driver’s side and opened his door, but didn’t get in right away. “What do you mean, what? Poor guy’s carrying a serious torch for you.” He ducked down and climbed inside his Prius, and, stunned, Jess wondered if carrying a torch for someone meant something different than what she thought it meant.
She jumped into the car and closed the door. “How do you mean?”
Quentin started the car, adjusted the AC vents, and then looked at her. “I figured you knew.”
“Why would I know?”
Quentin chuckled and checked his rearview mirror before he backed out. “Because everyone knows. Damn, Jess, even Eugene Thornton knows.”
“Oh please. Now you listen to Eugene Thornton? People just think they know because Eugene started those rumors. No one knows.”
“Uh, I do. I know. He told me.”
“What?” She smacked Quentin on the arm.
He laughed. “Yeah, he told me. The morning after you and I started fake dating. He asked me if I was actually into you, and I said nah, and he said I better not push it, and when I asked him why, he made it pretty clear he had his eye on you.”
“Ulck,” Jess said, sticking out her tongue.
Quentin looked over at her. “What? What’s ulck? Chris ain’t so bad.”
“No, it’s not Chris. Just that phrase, having his eye on me. I don’t know, it makes me feel dirty, like he’s stalking me.”
&nb
sp; He waved her off, “No, that was just my phrase. Chris knows you’re out of his league anyway.”
That was even worse than him having his eye on her. “Why do guys keep saying that?”
“Uh, because you’re the daughter of God. G-O-D. The one and only—”
AY-OH!
“You’re out of everyone’s league, really. The only person who might be in your league is Jesus, and that would be some weird half-sibling shit that I don’t think anyone would be down with.”
“And he’s kind of a dream stalker,” Jess added, staring out the window.
“Come again?”
“Jesus. He … appears in my sex dreams.”
She wasn’t entirely sure why she mentioned it to Quentin, other than perhaps to gauge the reaction of someone who wasn’t used to all the weird God stuff, like Miranda and Chris were. She held her breath and studied his face, waiting for him to say something. At first he seemed confused, and laughed lightly. Then he glanced at her, saw she was serious, and his eyes shot open, “Wait, you see Jesus in your sex dreams?”
Jess cackled and nodded. “Yeah.”
“But you’re not … He’s not …”
“Ew. No. He just crashes them.”
“Ha!” Quentin slapped the steering wheel. “Damn, Jess, your life is a trip.” He shook his head then peered at her from the corner of his eye. “So you having Jesus dreams about me?”
“Oh shut up,” she said. “Eyes on the road.”
“That’s not a no!” He pumped his fist. “Yes!”
* * *
Because they’d at least managed to lose the reporters on their way to Gordon’s, Jess didn’t mind the interruptions when townsfolk stopped by her table to offer congratulations on the big win. Despite the nagging knowledge that it wasn’t actually her talent that was making the ball go through the goalposts every single time, she let herself enjoy the positive attention for a while. The negative attention would be back before long, she was sure of that.
She sat on the edge of the booth next to Quentin, who was squished between her and Romeo. On the other side sat Eddie, Chris, and Colton. The majority of the indoor seating was taken up with other teammates who occasionally erupted into group shouting about this or that.
And It Was Good (Jessica Christ Book 2) Page 16
