takes your breath
away.
I am afraid
to reach out
to this boy
I really like.
But I tell myself
it is not me
against the mountain.
I will not let it
make me feel small.
I can do this.
I can take one step
and then another
step and then
another step;
a walk uphill.
I tell myself
the view
will be worth it.
Completely
and totally
worth it.
WHEN THE bus pulls into the school’s parking lot, I think how this is where Benny would lean into me and say, “Whatcha up for now, Pynes?”
Sometimes it was Murphy’s Hill.
Sometimes it was Angie’s Restaurant and the all-you-can-eat pancake special with scrambled eggs and bacon.
Sometimes it was simply two words: “I’m beat.” Benny had different ways of responding to that, and almost all of them made me laugh.
We trudge off the bus, and Derek Nelson asks me if I want to join him and a few other guys who are going to check out a party they heard about.
“Thanks, man, but I’m heading home. I gotta work tomorrow.”
Derek looks over my shoulder and smiles. “Sure you do, Pynes. Sure you do.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. I turn around and see Meghan leaning up against my truck.
“Damn,” I say.
He slaps me on the shoulder. “Have fun.”
I think about changing my mind and asking him for a ride to the party, if he’ll bring me back here later. That’s how much I don’t want to talk to Meghan right now. But they’re hooting and hollering and happy, walking across the parking lot, and I’m just not up to it.
“Good game,” she says when I approach. “That catch at the end was brilliant.”
“Thanks. I came through when it mattered, I guess.” I move past her, and throw my bag in the bed of my truck.
She pulls on my arm, and when I turn around, she’s right there. “I know you need someone right now.” Her eyes are so sad. And for a second, I wonder why. What does she have to be sad about? “This thing with Benny is killing you, I can tell. Let me help you.”
I sigh. “Meghan, I thought we already went over this.”
“I’m not your guardian angel anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t … you know.”
“Don’t do this.”
She looks surprised. “Do what?”
“This. Throw yourself at me because I’m the hero of the game tonight or whatever. Did you see the way I played the rest of the game? I’m not a hero. I’m so far from a hero, it’s not even funny.”
She looks heartbroken. “Colby, I like you. That’s all.”
I shake my head. “No. Like I told you before, I don’t think you even really know me. What you like is being a part of the winning team. It makes you feel good. Because you obviously don’t have much else in your life that makes you feel good about yourself, or you wouldn’t be showing up here, acting like this.”
Her eyes narrow. “You know what? You’re wrong. I do know you. I know that you’re an asshole.” She stomps over to her car. “Jesus, I just felt bad for you and everything you’ve been going through. I wanted to help you!”
She gets in her car and speeds off before I can respond. Not that I have anything else to say.
Sometimes things in this small town are so backward, I can hardly see straight. I stand there, trying to think of one thing I actually like about this town right now.
And that’s when I think of the girl who is so different from everyone else. The girl who’d never seen a covered bridge. The girl who doesn’t really like football.
It’s so cliché, but right now I feel like this small town might smother me, and Lauren is a breath of fresh air.
I want to see her. I want to remember what it’s like to feel normal again.
So I get in my truck, and I head toward the Jiffy Mart.
JOSH AND Erica
let me go with
Stasia after the game.
She has a white
Ford Focus instead of
a blue bicycle.
We ride back
to Willow, singing
along to the radio.
A Katy Perry song
comes on, and I think
that they seem like
kindred spirits,
with Stasia’s pink hair
and crazy clothes
and how she loves lollipops
(grape is her favorite).
There is something
about singing with
a girlfriend in the car,
happy and carefree,
that makes you
feel like you can
do
ANYTHING.
I tell myself I can
do what I want to do.
What I’m afraid to do.
What I need to do.
I can talk to Colby
when he gets off
the bus and tell him
I had so much fun
that day we spent
together and I’ve
missed him.
Maybe he feels
the same, maybe not,
but I want to know.
I need to know.
Stasia parks in a
dark corner, and
we wait for the bus
to arrive.
“He’s really cute,” she says.
“I know.”
“I hope it works out.”
“Me too.”
She reaches into
the glove box to get
a lollipop. She offers
me one, but I decline.
The butterflies are
circling, and I tell myself
it’s because I’m
excited, not nervous.
We watch as
a beautiful girl
walks up to
Colby’s truck
and looks inside
before she turns
around and leans
up against it,
her arms crossed
like she’s ready to
wait all night.
“Who is that?” I whisper.
“Meghan Cooley,” Stasia says.
“His ex.”
Suddenly, I’m wishing
I would feel afraid again.
Or nervous.
Or excited.
Anything besides the
sadness that fills me.
I can’t believe
it’s going to end
like this.
“Do you want to stay?” she asks.
“No.
I can’t watch.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
The story
of my whole
miserable life.
I LOOK for her bike when I pull in, but of course, it’s not there. Like I really expected her to be riding around this late on a Friday night?
Crazy, wishful thinking. There’s no way I could be so lucky as to catch two breaks tonight.
I go inside to get a slushie, and as I turn the corner, there she is, Bugles and a soda in hand, waiting in line to pay at the register.
I freeze.
What do I do?
What do I say?
Lauren raises the bag, as if to say, no surprise, right?
Stasia comes up behind her, holding a tray of nachos. This is so awkward. I’m about to turn toward the slushie machine, where I can hide for a second and collect my thoughts, when I see Lauren hand Stasia her stuff and whisper something to her.
Then Lauren walks toward me.
“I can’t believe I actually found you here,” I say.
She looks surprised. “You were looking for me?”
I swallow hard. ?
??Yeah. I was. I, uh, I saw you at the game. When Coach pulled me out.”
She nods. “You made a touchdown. After that, I mean.”
“I did.” I motion toward the door. “Could we talk outside for a minute?”
“Sure.”
I go to the door and hold it open while she steps out. I follow her down to the far corner of the store, where it’s kind of private. And dark.
She has her arms crossed over her chest. “Are you cold?” I ask. “We can sit in my truck, if you want.”
She smiles. “No. I’m okay.”
I stick my hands in my pockets, in case they start shaking. “Look, I owe you an apology. I’ve had a lot going on, and, uh, I think I probably gave you the wrong impression.”
“Oh,” she says, her smile gone. “Well, you don’t have to apologize. I mean, it was just one day and it was probably wrong to think —”
“Wait,” I say. “No, that’s not it. I meant, I think I’ve given you the wrong impression recently. Like, made you think I don’t want anything to do with you, but it’s not that at all. It’s just, this whole thing with Benny …”
I think I see relief on her face. I hope I see relief on her face. “Oh, right. No, I get it. I mean, it’s gotta be hard.”
“Yeah. It is. I wish you could have met him. He’s a great guy.”
“Well, hopefully, someday I can. He can recover from this, can’t he?”
“Absolutely. It could take a while, but yeah.”
“That’s good.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry. If it seemed like I was ignoring you or whatever.”
Before she can respond, the door opens, and we both turn. Stasia looks around, and when she spots us, she calls out, “I’ll be in the car.”
Oh God. I can’t make the same mistake twice. It’s now or never. “Before you go,” I say, the words tumbling out like a ball off a bad kick, “would you want to go out with me? Maybe tomorrow night? Or, you know, whenever you’re free, I guess.”
Lauren shakes her head, like she doesn’t understand. “Wait. So what about that cheerleader?”
“What about her?”
“I saw her, waiting for you at school. You’re not … together?”
“Oh, no. No way.”
She gives me a little grin. “Well, that’s a relief.”
I nudge her with my elbow. “You weren’t jealous, were you?”
I think she’s trying to play it cool. “What? No. I just didn’t know what was going on, that’s all.”
“Okay, good. Because I promise, there’s nothing to worry about. So, are you free tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. I work tomorrow afternoon, until six. Can you pick me up at seven?”
“Where are you working?”
“King’s Doughnuts.”
“Oh, man, I love their doughnuts. That is a sweet job, Lauren.”
She chuckles at my bad pun. “Real funny.” She points toward Stasia’s car. “I should probably get going. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Yeah. Seven o’clock. Don’t eat dinner, okay? I want to take you to my favorite restaurant.”
She points at the store. “If you bring me here for corn dogs, I’m going to be totally insulted.”
I laugh and raise my right hand. “No corn dogs. I swear.”
“Okay, then. See ya later.”
I watch as she hurries off to Stasia’s car. Then I lean against the building and exhale. I’m finally on a winning streak.
HIGH FIVES,
giggles,
and Bugles
thrown around
the car
like confetti.
“What are the chances?” Stasia asks
as we drive around the corner
to a little park, where we get out
to eat our snacks.
I’m the one
who asked her
to stop at Jiffy Mart.
Maybe he was
going to make out
with that hot girl,
but if not, maybe
he was going to stop
and get something to eat
because football players
are always hungry.
I figured I had a
fifty-fifty chance.
But I don’t tell
Stasia that.
We sit on the swings,
side by side,
like little kids.
“I guess it was meant to be,” I say.
She sighs.
“That is so romantic.”
“Right,” I say,
“because a convenience store
just screams we belong together.”
“A match made in snack-food heaven,” she says,
laughing.
“And guess what?
He told me he loves doughnuts!”
“Oh my God.
He is the perfect guy for you.”
I think so too,
and I’m so excited
I get a chance to see
if we’re right.
DAD’S STILL up when I get home, watching TV and drinking a beer.
“Hey, Dad,” I say. “Everything all right?”
He narrows his eyes as he looks up at me. “If you think playing a pathetic, sloppy football game is acceptable, sure. Everything’s fine.”
I set my bag down and take a seat in the recliner, where Grandpa usually sits.
“Yeah, I had a rough start. Just couldn’t stop thinking about —”
“Colby, three quarters is not a start. There are no excuses for how you played. None.”
I look down at my lap. There’s nothing to do now but sit here and take it.
“I think if I were your coach, I’d ask you to hang up your jersey and let some other kid take your spot. Hell, a sixth grader could’ve played better than you did tonight.”
Shame fills me. “I told Coach I was sorry.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said he didn’t want my apology. That what he wants is my dedication and commitment.”
“Of course he does. The question is whether you want to give that to him.”
I rub my face in my hands. “At least I made the play that mattered the most. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Yes. But come on, every play matters when you’re out there this year. Every. Single. Play. What if scouts were watching tonight? Do you think any of them are going to want to have anything to do with you now?”
I look at him. “I can’t think about that, Dad. I got enough going on without thinking about that too.”
“Well, you need to find that commitment your coach wants to see somehow. Do you want to let him down?”
“No.”
“What about your team? Do you want to let them down?”
I sigh. “No.”
He stands up. “What time do you work tomorrow?”
“Uh, noon to five. Why?”
“You take your gear, and you meet me at the field after work.”
I stand up. “I can’t. I have a date.”
He picks up the remote and turns off the television. “That’s right, you do. With me. On that football field. No girls right now, Colby. Do you hear me? You said it yourself. You’ve got enough going on.”
“But, Dad —”
“No. I’m not gonna back down from this. This is for your own good. You have to trust me on this. We need to get your head in the right place, and right now, that means more time on the field and less time thinking about other things. Like the opposite sex.”
I can’t believe this is happening.
He slaps my shoulder. “After we run some plays, you and I will go out for dinner. How’s that? I know, we’ll go to Fresh Grill. Haven’t been there in ages. Get one of their big, juicy burgers, huh? I’ll tell Gram and Grandpa not to expect us tomorrow night. We’ll have a fun night out, just you and me. Like the old days.”
He pulls me into a hug. Squeezes me hard. I stand there, like a board. “
I love you,” he says. “Don’t forget that. I know you’re not happy with me right now, but this is the way it has to be.” He pulls away and holds both of my shoulders with his hands. “Just for a few months. That’s all. Okay? If this girl has any decency about her, she’ll understand. And she’ll wait.”
I swallow hard.
“Good night,” he says as he turns to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Five fifteen. Ready to play.”
MOONLIGHT SPILLS
into the front window.
Demi sleeps in her
mother’s arms
as they rock to a
silent lullaby.
“She had a bad dream,”
Erica whispers to me.
I wonder what
that’s like, to be
comforted by a loving
mother when you
are awakened by
frightening dreams.
I walk over and stroke
Demi’s soft blond hair.
“Can I take her
to her room?” I ask.
I long to hold her,
to cuddle her,
to feel loved and needed
if only for a moment.
Without hesitation,
Erica stands and passes me
the sleeping angel.
Demi nestles in my arms,
as if she belongs there,
but of course, she doesn’t.
She is a temporary solution
to a constant longing.
I go to bed knowing
I’ll dream of him again,
and will wake up with
no one to comfort me.
BENNY’D PROBABLY say I need to grow a pair and tell my dad where to go when he gets like that. But I can’t. Because the thing is, I know my dad thinks what he’s doing is for the best. Yeah, it’s kind of tough love, but it’s love all the same.