CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One minute and fifty-seven seconds before halftime, I sulk in the middle of the student section. The rest of the student body from Pine Gulch stands. I should stand but it doesn’t matter. We’re losing fourteen to zero.
“Holy cannoli,” someone screams. Then the crowd roars.
Now I’m squished. Asses in my face and someone’s foot lands on mine. Popcorn plops in my hair. Someone from behind me spills a sweet and sticky liquid substance on me. I don’t give a shit. The alcohol still warms my insides. Until it wears off, I’ll be fine.
“Stallion touchdown!” The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium. The crowd stomps and the vibrations feel like a mini earthquake. Not that I really know what an earthquake feels like. I live in Colorado.
I know that our kicker secures the extra point because Vianna is screaming Hunter’s name, which means we’re back in the game. I don’t want the intensity of my buzz to diminish. I force Natalie down. “Do you have more hot chocolate?” I giggle.
“Stand your ass up.” She yanks at me.
“Come on, I know you have more,” I sing as I try and pull her back down close to me.
“You’re missing the stupid cheer you love so much.” She pulls at me again.
“Who cares about the cheer? Next thing you know, we’ll be making that whoop, whoop sounds like they do at the baseball games.” I fling my hand in the air, almost smacking Natalie in the face. I hate baseball. It’s so boring. Nothing exciting happens. That’s why they have to come up with stupid cheers.
Note to self: Make sure you tell Blake how boring baseball is.
Natalie plops down beside me and looks me square in the eye. “Look. It’s okay for me to act stupid. Everyone expects it. You, however, don’t fit that role, and Vianna can’t drive us home.” Natalie points to Vianna.
Vianna sips something from a mug that we didn’t bring into the game. “Stallion power! Go Stallion! Kick some…” and something stops her from fully letting go. Even with alcohol she can’t let it all out.
“This is bullshit,” I say. Why must I always be the responsible one? I stand and look out onto the field. Academy Christian has the ball on their forty-yard line with over a minute left in the half. “Interception,” I scream. The quarterback pulls back but their line doesn’t block. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I shake my head and sing. I’ve had way too much to drink, but I can still see it.
Instead of tossing the ball to the sideline or even taking the sack, their quarterback takes a chance and heaves the ball deep—right into our linebacker’s hands. Jack takes the ball and slams his massive body over their offensive line like they’re preschoolers.
“Stallion interception! Touchdown Pine Gulch! Linebacker Jack Kotenko!” the announcer yells, and the crowd explodes.
“See? We need your little ass sober,” Natalie screams over the roar of the crowd.
“Trust me, I’m sober now,” I say. Although it looks like Natalie will be driving us home tonight. Edna will not be happy. Natalie is not a very good driver, but she’s the only one who can get behind the wheel. What a change.
Natalie and I huddle together in line at the concession stand. We left Vianna back with some other friends so we wouldn’t get kicked out. Vianna is still cheering because of the second extra point that Hunter scored.
Parents are securing spots in the front of the line. Once the hungry teenagers see their parents, our place slowly pushes further and further toward the gate, making the sugary smells weaker and the warm buttery aroma distant. I want a chili cheese dog with lots of onions. Onions are never a staple at the games, though.
“Oh, shit.” Natalie turns and faces me.
“What?” I look past my friend and see the problem. Alicia and her friend head our way with paper trays loaded with food.
Alicia starts talking before I have a chance to say anything. “I know you don’t want to sit with us. I don’t blame you. I know your dad called you. He doesn’t think. But I figured you might want some food.” Alicia hands me a tray filled with hot dogs, cinnamon pretzels, candy, and gum. “If you follow us back to our seats, I’ve got bottled water, too.”
I hesitate.
“Wow.” Natalie looks at Alicia suspiciously. Then she grabs the food from me before I drop it. The alcohol hasn’t worn off. And that is why I stay quiet and let my friend take the tray.
“What?” Alicia asks. She pauses, and then her eyes look sorry and her head cocks to the side. “I know you’re worried that I’m going to take your dad away.”
Even if I could talk, I don’t know what I’d say. Natalie cuts in and says, “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Then my friend grabs a hot dog from the tray. Natalie takes a big bite and smirks at the two women.
”Thanks for the food,” I say. It really was a nice thing for her to do. I don’t want to be her new bestie but I can at least be civil.
“Anytime,” Alicia says. Then she waves me off. “Go have fun.”
The second-quarter comeback provides us momentum. It offers our team hope and delivers power. Out of the gate, Torres scores a seventy-yard touchdown and Hunter scores his third extra point. The third and fourth quarters remain a battle. Both sides fall to injuries. At the end of the fourth quarter, Academy Christian scores another six points with a touchdown.
Then Jack comes through again. Those large hands of his block the ball, no extra point for the opposing team. The crowd goes wild. Academy Christian’s undefeated record for the past two years—broken. Take that! Stallions win the game 21–20. The band explodes with our school song. The girls cry and scream while the boys chest-bump and whistle. I watch number 59, Jack, run off the field.
The crowd pours into the parking lot. Natalie, Vianna, and I take our time. There’s no use in running to the car. It will be impossible trying to get out of here. And I really don’t want to run into Alicia and her friend. The food was much appreciated, but we are not best friends because of her little peace offering.
On Friday night home games, the local Burrito Bar stays open late. The extended hours aren’t advertised, but on nights of a win, the line at the restaurant reaches out the door. The buy-one-get-one-free-with-your-student-ID special helps. If the home team loses, the restaurant shuts down at ten p.m. and the deal is off. Tonight the line circles around into the seating area when we arrive.
“Do you wanna stay?” Natalie asks.
“Yeah. I’m still hungry, and…” I point to Vianna. “Miss In Control has gone off the deep end. We can’t take her home like that.”
It’s strange how our roles have reversed. Natalie ends up the DD, Vianna is in the backseat with Hunter, and I’ve come down off my buzz but I still won’t drive. If Edna could talk she’d be yelling at me. Natalie hit the curb twice trying to park my poor car.
An old blue-and-white pickup pulls into the lot. Big white letters spell out Maggie Mae on the back window. It’s Tyler and someone else, I can’t see who, but the crowd’s roar helps me figure it out really quick.
“Kotenko! Kotenko! Kotenko!”
I look around. Dang it, no escape routes. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s not like anything happened at Andrew’s party. We watched the movie. Jack told me the movie was his granddad’s favorite. Jack’s Southernisms pop out at the most random times. Or maybe people who aren’t Southern call their grandfather granddad all the time. I wouldn’t know. I don’t have grandparents that I talk to. But I love the way he talks. It’s adorable.
I don’t know how the movie ended because I had to help Tyler sneak Natalie out of the back yard after she had one too many spiked sodas.
“Sweet.” Natalie shoves me, which brings me back to the present.
Tyler spots Natalie when he enters the restaurant. He smiles. He’s liked her since the fourth grade and he’s not going to let some stupid Colby thing stop him. Jack enters the restaurant behind Tyler.
“Did he just wink at you?” Vianna nudges me. Her worlds slur and she giggles.
>
“What are you talking about, wasted girl?” I ask. I know my face is red, but I’m counting on the fact that Vianna’s inebriated and she won’t notice.
“Oh, I saw it too.” Natalie raises her eyebrows. “The new boy winked at you. And you’re as pink as your phone cover.”
I turn back toward the counter and look up at the menu. Not that I need to look. My order never changes. The crowd continues to chant Jack’s last name. They make a hole for him to walk up to the front of the line. He shakes his head, but it only makes the crowd louder.
Sidney Jacobson, who is the lead cheerleader, sticks one foot out while swaying her hip. Her boobs are hanging out of her bra and most of the guys in the restaurant notice. “Come on, Jack.” Her voice raises an octave.
Why does it sound cute when her voice squeaks?
I look at Natalie. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Jack moves closer.
“Oh hell no,” Natalie hisses. “Tyler. Remember? Leaving would ruin my chances. He almost kissed me the other night at Andrew’s. I want that kiss.”
Jack and Tyler move to the front. Jack slaps the hands of his admirers on his way to the front of the line. I motion with my hand for Jack and Tyler to pass, then I join the crowd and put out my hand for him to slap. He deserves it. He played an excellent game.
When Jack reaches me, his fingers clamp down around mine and he pulls me with him. I start to pull back, but he doesn’t let go and I give in, squeezing back and following him to the front of the line. Sidney hisses.
When we make it to the register, someone tries to pay for Jack’s meal. Jack pulls out a twenty. “I’m paying, or else it’ll look like you’re paying for Massie’s. Can’t have that.”
Jack leaves the change in the tip jar and we find an empty table and Natalie and Tyler join us. The crowd doesn’t leave Jack’s side. He talks to each and every person that congratulates him on the win, which I swear is everyone in the restaurant, including the old people. It’s like Oklahoma football has found its way to Colorado.
Jack makes sure that he gives credit to the rest of the team. “Without Torres’s touchdown we wouldn’t have won. He’s the one who turned the game around.”
His left leg leans against mine. And, to make sure he’s doing it on purpose, I move mine away. He scoots closer and his leg finds mine again.
Vianna and Hunter join us. Once Vianna has food in her stomach, she looks like she’s ready for bed, so a little after eleven we all head out.
“Party at the Pit,” someone screams.
I look at Natalie and then at Vianna. I look back at Natalie and shake my head. “She needs to go home.”
Natalie nods in agreement. I can tell she’s disappointed that she can’t hang with Tyler, but she won’t leave Vianna. And I can’t drive. Tyler pulls Natalie close and whispers something in her ear, then kisses her on the cheek. Natalie actually blushes.
Football players surround Jack. His eyes meet mine and he winks. Then he mouths the word “wait.”
But I point to Vianna and lip back. “Gotta go.”
Rule number nine: Take care of your drunk friend even if it means you have to leave the best night of your life.