“Yeah,” says Alex. “You don’t have to suit up or anything. Just be on the sidelines. I really think it’d make a big difference.”
Reeve gulps down his Muscle Milk. Wiping his mouth, he says, “You guys are on your own now. I can’t carry you anymore. I’ve gotta worry about myself. If I don’t get my shit straight, I don’t play next fall.”
“You’re still a captain of this team,” Alex reminds him.
“I have to focus on my recovery,” Reeve says. “I’m in bed by nine and up by five thirty to work out. You think I have time to go to a football game?”
“Just think about it,” Alex says. “You don’t have to decide today. See how you’re feeling on Friday night.” It gives me a stomachache to see Alex be so patient with Reeve’s temper tantrum. If I were him, I’d tell Reeve to forget it.
Shaking his head regretfully, Derek says, “Damn, man. I can’t believe this happened to you. I was looking forward to watching you throw TDs on ESPN next fall.”
Reeve jams a forkful of salad into his mouth. Chewing forcefully, he says, “You’re still gonna see me on ESPN. Don’t count me out.”
“Yeah, Derek,” Rennie says, glaring at him. She points at Reeve. “From here on out, this is a no-negativity zone. Only positive thinking allowed.”
Reeve heaves himself out of his seat and up onto his crutches.
“Where are you going?” Rennie asks him.
“Bathroom.”
He lurches off toward the men’s room, and Rennie watches him like a hawk, ready to spring into action if he needs her. When he’s gone, she looks around to make sure no one else is listening, and then she says to Ash, “He’s being so strong. He practically cried in my arms the other night when he heard Alabama was out. That was one of his safety schools! And there he was, begging the coaches to redshirt him for the first season.” She closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “But his injury is too much of a risk. They don’t think he’ll ever get back to where he was. I can’t wait until he proves those idiots wrong.” Rennie takes a sip of her soda. “Sure, he might not end up at a D-one school after this is all over, but any division two or three school would be lucky to have him.”
“Did you spend the night over at his house again?” Ash whispers.
Again? They’re doing sleepovers now? I fully believe that Paige would let Rennie sleep over at a guy’s house, but Reeve’s parents have always seemed pretty traditional to me.
Running her hands through her hair, Rennie says, “I’m basically the only thing keeping him going right now.”
“Did you guys finally DTR?” Ash asks her.
“What does DTR mean?” I wonder aloud.
“Define the relationship,” Rennie says, rolling her eyes like I am a moron for not knowing. But she doesn’t look at me. “And no, we didn’t. Not yet. He has too much on his mind right now. I just want to be there for him. That’s all he needs.” Rennie stands up and gathers her things. “I’m going to go look for him.” She leans down and gives Ashlin a peck on the cheek. “Bye, Ash. Bye, Peej, bye, Derek.”
Without even a glance in my direction, she takes off. No one notices that Rennie said good-bye to everyone but me.
It’s been like this since homecoming, and every day it gets a little worse. I have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Rennie’s mad at me. Like, really mad. I hate that it affects me this much, but it does. I want things to go back to normal, where nobody’s in a fight with anybody.
As soon as she’s out the door, I say to Ash, “Has Rennie said anything to you? About me?”
Ashlin shifts in her seat, avoiding my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“She’s been acting like a total bitch to me ever since homecoming. Is it because I got queen and she didn’t?” I bite my bottom lip. “I’ll give her my tiara if she wants it that badly.”
Ash finally looks up at me. “Lil, it’s not because of that. It’s because you kissed Reeve on stage at the dance.”
My mouth drops. “I didn’t kiss him! He kissed me!”
“But you let him. In front of everybody.”
I feel like I’m going to cry. “Ash, I didn’t want him to! He basically forced me. You know I don’t even like him. And . . . why is she mad at me and not Reeve?”
Ash gives me a sympathetic shrug. “You know how she feels about him. He’s her first love. He’s her Reevie. She’d forgive him for anything.”
“But it’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Tell her you’re sorry,” Ashlin says. “Tell her you’d never think of Reeve like that.”
I frown and rock back in my seat. Maybe that would make it better, but I kind of don’t think so. “That’s the thing,” I say. “I shouldn’t have to.”
CHAPTER THREE
It’s the end of the week, thank goodness, and I’m on my way out of school, totally and completely exhausted from playing catch-up with all my classes. When I hear Kat scream from the parking lot. It’s a playful scream, not a scared one or anything. I glance around and spot her a few feet away, cigarette clenched between her teeth, trying to pull a flannel shirt off some guy.
I recognize the guy, sort of. I don’t know his name, but I always see him wandering aimlessly around the school grounds. I don’t think he has any classes. Or if he does, his teachers must be pretty liberal with their attendance sheets.
Kat could be on the Jar Island wrestling team, she’s so light on her feet. She keeps moving, bouncing on her toes, twisting left and right as she works the back of the flannel up over the boy’s head. I bet her brother, Pat, taught her how to do that.
The guy is unsteady, and also it seems like he doesn’t exactly know how to fight back against a girl. Kat definitely takes advantage of it. She stays aggressive, tugging and pulling until she has most of the flannel free, distracting him by poking him in the ribs or pulling out the rubber band that’s holding back his shoulder-length hair. It doesn’t take long before all he’s left clinging to is one tiny bit of sleeve.
Kat plants her feet like she’s preparing for a serious game of tugof-war. She warns him, “It’s gonna rip if you don’t let go, Dan.”
“All right, all right,” the guy—Dan, I guess—finally concedes.
Reeve gulps down his Muscle Milk. Wiping his mouth, he says, “You guys are on your own now. I can’t carry you anymore. I’ve gotta worry about myself. If I don’t get my shit straight, I don’t play next fall.”
“You’re still a captain of this team,” Alex reminds him.
“I have to focus on my recovery,” Reeve says. “I’m in bed by nine and up by five thirty to work out. You think I have time to go to a football game?”
“Just think about it,” Alex says. “You don’t have to decide today. See how you’re feeling on Friday night.” It gives me a stomachache to see Alex be so patient with Reeve’s temper tantrum. If I were him, I’d tell Reeve to forget it.
Shaking his head regretfully, Derek says, “Damn, man. I can’t believe this happened to you. I was looking forward to watching you throw TDs on ESPN next fall.”
Reeve jams a forkful of salad into his mouth. Chewing forcefully, he says, “You’re still gonna see me on ESPN. Don’t count me out.”
“Yeah, Derek,” Rennie says, glaring at him. She points at Reeve. “From here on out, this is a no-negativity zone. Only positive thinking allowed.”
Reeve heaves himself out of his seat and up onto his crutches.
“Where are you going?” Rennie asks him.
“Bathroom.”
He lurches off toward the men’s room, and Rennie watches him like a hawk, ready to spring into action if he needs her. When he’s gone, she looks around to make sure no one else is listening, and then she says to Ash, “He’s being so strong. He practically cried in my arms the other night when he heard Alabama was out. That was one of his safety schools! And there he was, begging the coaches to redshirt him for the first season.” She closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “But his injury is too much of a risk. They don’t think he’ll ever get back to where he was. I can’t wait until he proves those idiots wrong.” Rennie takes a sip of her soda. “Sure, he might not end up at a D-one school after this is all over, but any division two or three school would be lucky to have him.”
“Did you spend the night over at his house again?” Ash whispers.
Again? They’re doing sleepovers now? I fully believe that Paige would let Rennie sleep over at a guy’s house, but Reeve’s parents have always seemed pretty traditional to me.
Running her hands through her hair, Rennie says, “I’m basically the only thing keeping him going right now.”
“Did you guys finally DTR?” Ash asks her.
“What does DTR mean?” I wonder aloud.
“Define the relationship,” Rennie says, rolling her eyes like I am a moron for not knowing. But she doesn’t look at me. “And no, we didn’t. Not yet. He has too much on his mind right now. I just want to be there for him. That’s all he needs.” Rennie stands up and gathers her things. “I’m going to go look for him.” She leans down and gives Ashlin a peck on the cheek. “Bye, Ash. Bye, Peej, bye, Derek.”
Without even a glance in my direction, she takes off. No one notices that Rennie said good-bye to everyone but me.
It’s been like this since homecoming, and every day it gets a little worse. I have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Rennie’s mad at me. Like, really mad. I hate that it affects me this much, but it does. I want things to go back to normal, where nobody’s in a fight with anybody.
As soon as she’s out the door, I say to Ash, “Has Rennie said anything to you? About me?”
Ashlin shifts in her seat, avoiding my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“She’s been acting like a total bitch to me ever since homecoming. Is it because I got queen and she didn’t?” I bite my bottom lip. “I’ll give her my tiara if she wants it that badly.”
Ash finally looks up at me. “Lil, it’s not because of that. It’s because you kissed Reeve on stage at the dance.”
My mouth drops. “I didn’t kiss him! He kissed me!”
“But you let him. In front of everybody.”
I feel like I’m going to cry. “Ash, I didn’t want him to! He basically forced me. You know I don’t even like him. And . . . why is she mad at me and not Reeve?”
Ash gives me a sympathetic shrug. “You know how she feels about him. He’s her first love. He’s her Reevie. She’d forgive him for anything.”
“But it’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Tell her you’re sorry,” Ashlin says. “Tell her you’d never think of Reeve like that.”
I frown and rock back in my seat. Maybe that would make it better, but I kind of don’t think so. “That’s the thing,” I say. “I shouldn’t have to.”
CHAPTER THREE
It’s the end of the week, thank goodness, and I’m on my way out of school, totally and completely exhausted from playing catch-up with all my classes. When I hear Kat scream from the parking lot. It’s a playful scream, not a scared one or anything. I glance around and spot her a few feet away, cigarette clenched between her teeth, trying to pull a flannel shirt off some guy.
I recognize the guy, sort of. I don’t know his name, but I always see him wandering aimlessly around the school grounds. I don’t think he has any classes. Or if he does, his teachers must be pretty liberal with their attendance sheets.
Kat could be on the Jar Island wrestling team, she’s so light on her feet. She keeps moving, bouncing on her toes, twisting left and right as she works the back of the flannel up over the boy’s head. I bet her brother, Pat, taught her how to do that.
The guy is unsteady, and also it seems like he doesn’t exactly know how to fight back against a girl. Kat definitely takes advantage of it. She stays aggressive, tugging and pulling until she has most of the flannel free, distracting him by poking him in the ribs or pulling out the rubber band that’s holding back his shoulder-length hair. It doesn’t take long before all he’s left clinging to is one tiny bit of sleeve.
Kat plants her feet like she’s preparing for a serious game of tugof-war. She warns him, “It’s gonna rip if you don’t let go, Dan.”
“All right, all right,” the guy—Dan, I guess—finally concedes.
