Waiting on the Sidelines - Page 31/138

Reed was finally leaving the field, walking over with his jersey off and his pads exposed, his helmet dangling from his hand. Our smiles met each other and I wanted to run to him and tell him how proud I was. Throw my arms around him. Have him swing me around in circles while I kissed him. I was getting carried away, but my fantasy was delicious. I was just about to walk over to meet him at the track when my legs were swept out from under me and I was slung over someone’s shoulder and carried towards the field.

Part of what I liked about being Sean’s girlfriend was how much he loved showing his affection, for everyone to see. But for some reason, I only wanted him to stop at this moment. I felt like he had stopped my heart from leaping, if just for a moment, and I resented him for stealing this from me.

I slapped at his back and begged him to put me down and then I found myself on the ground, in the end zone. He started tickling me. I couldn’t help but laugh, even though inside I was desperately wanting to rewind. I looked over to where Reed was standing, staring at us and our amateur wrestling match. For a moment, he seemed conflicted and then he let out the faintest smile and shook his head as he turned and continued over to Tatum, picking her up and twirling her around while she squealed. Of course she squealed. It was the most awful sound in the world. He carried her all the way up the ramp to the locker room where he planted her on her feet and told her to wait for him, throwing his jersey to her. She instantly put it on.

I lay there, on the grass, while Sean looked at me. “I played that game for you, you know,” Sean said. I barely registered what he said, but knew enough to make eye contact with him, smile and tell him he did it for everyone, also knowing he had nothing to do with that win at all. The boy who did was in the locker room, getting ready to take home another girl, and my heart was breaking.

10. Action, Reaction

Coolidge rode the wave of their newly minted state championship all the way through the holidays. And Reed’s popularity and statewide notoriety climbed to new levels. He was only 16, but he was already being heavily recruited. I know his heart belonged to Tucson – the tradition of his father and, while he didn’t care for him much, his brother. Despite this, he was being courted by schools from California, Illinois, Texas, Florida and Michigan.

We talked regularly, though never for long, and the focus was always on his college recruitments, football plans for next season and school. Tatum and Sean were merely brought up when we would tell one another to say hi to the other. There was an air of tension, but I couldn’t explain it.

School was starting back after the holiday break and the buzz was the upcoming winter dance. Sienna, Sarah and I all volunteered to decorate the gym. We were excited about it but didn’t really have much of a choice either as it was Tatum’s committee and she was bent on putting us to work.

We had cut hundreds of snowflakes from these sheets of sparkly blue and silver paper that Sienna had picked up from a specialty store in the city. It took us more than three hours to string each one up and tack it to the ceiling. But the final effect was well worth the effort when Tatum switched off the lights and flicked on the glowing disco ball she had ordered to hang from the middle of the gymnasium. The flakes flickered and fluttered above us as the slight breeze from the air system caused them to sway. It seemed as if snow was falling here in the middle of the desert. We were pleased.

We had a little more than an hour to head home and prep ourselves for the dance. I was spending the night at Sarah’s and had brought my clothes over to her house to get ready. I had one dress that would work. I had been hanging on to it for two years – my mom and I found it on a clearance rack at the big mall in Tucson when I was graduating from eighth grade and at the time it didn’t quite fit me yet, my boobs not quite able to fill the top. It had a flirty and flowing silver and blue skirt that swayed just above my knees and a form-fitting glittery top that hugged my midsection and accentuated my small but mighty bust. Soft quarter sleeves cupped my shoulders to keep everything in place.

I slipped the dress on in Sarah’s room while she was finishing up her make up in the bathroom. I was twirling to try to see the zipper on the back when Sarah entered behind me, her hand on her chin and her head turned sideways as if she was studying me for an art class.

“What?” I finally broke.

“Nothing,” she said, unconvincingly. “It’s just… It’s just that something’s, I don’t know. Just not quite right?”

She started to turn me around slowly, still studying. Finally, she clapped her hands together, her face showing her mind clearly made up.