All The Glory (2 page)

I dropped my gaze to the floor. I hated myself in that moment, that I felt the need to apologize for stepping outside of my social strata and being bold enough to engage in conversation with The Jason … Her Jason. But life is what it is and I often find it impossible to control my reactions to social pressure.

“Ease up, Britt, we were just having a conversation about toilet paper.”

She snorted. “Toilet paper. Wow. That’s sexy.” Then she laughed.

My face was burning up. The only way I could stop myself from saying what probably should have been said and/or bitch-slapping her was to focus on something else. I stared down the hallway and thankfully caught sight of Bobby.

Coming more fully out of the bathroom, I shut the door behind me and moved to walk around the happy couple who were now making out. “Okay, well, see ya.”

Jason lifted his head and looked at me. “Check your zipper.”

I froze, my gaze going down to my pants. The relief that washed through me at finding everything all copacetic down there was unbelievable. I had no idea why the idea of Jason Bradley catching me with my barn door open would have been such a tragedy. He’s just a guy.

Breaking out in the cold sweat of relief, I gave him my mentally unbalanced smile once again. “Ha, ha. Thanks. I think I’m good.”

He went back to his saliva swapping, and I fast-walked to the end of the hallway, grabbing Bobby by the arm and steering him into another room, grateful to be putting some distance between myself and The Blur.

Chapter Four

I WAS READY TO GO right then, but Bobby was busy making his move on this guy he’d had his eye on all the summer, and he wasn’t going to leave until either he had permission to text or had copped a feel.

It was always a crap shoot for Bobby, looking for love. When you’re a guy looking for a girl, you can be reasonably sure you’re being rejected because you’re just not good looking enough. With Bobby, he was a guy looking for a guy, and he had to worry about not only not being good looking enough but getting his ass beat. His gaydar was pretty good, but it wasn’t perfect and he has a few scars to show for it.

An hour or a few later, I kind of lost track with all the wandering around I was doing, he finally gave up. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, linking an arm through mine.

I was relieved to be ditching that party. Nobody I cared about was around but him. I have a very small circle of friends; he was pretty much it most of the time. Can two people make a circle? It felt like it then, but later I realized friendship circles are pretty lopsided when there are only two points of reference.

Bobby and I have been friends since kindergarten, and his preferred method of walking when he’s with me is with arms linked and hips connected. I think I’m part friend, part security blanket, part Siamese twin.

“Thank the tiny baby Jesus,” I said, digging through my bag for my keys. They’re usually not hard to find; I have a ridiculous number of keychains connected to them. “This place was getting scary.” Not two minutes ago I saw a girl barf into a houseplant. I seriously go bonkers if I see that stuff land on the floor, and by the looks of the people stumbling around, it was only a matter of time before I’d be forced to bear witness to that nightmare.

I remembered where my keys were at precisely the same moment that some loud voices came to my ears from the front door area.

“What are you doing?” Bobby asked, twisting his head around to see what all the commotion was about. “I thought you were ready to go.”

“I am. I just remembered that my keys are in that bowl at the door.”

“Come on,” he said, pulling me through the living room and over to the shouting match in the foyer.

When we arrived, we saw Brittney throwing a tantrum, demanding her keys from the big guy at the door. I recognized him as one of the students who wears a football jersey in school on game days, but I didn’t know his name or what position he played. I would have guessed his job was to tackle people. He was about the size of one and a half Jasons or four Bobbys. Bobby’s very twiggy.

The big guy’s voice was higher than I would have guessed it would be. “You’ve been drinking, so you don’t get your keys. That’s the deal. Now get out of my face, Brittney, or I’m going to punch your boyfriend.”

I was wishing I had some popcorn, because this was getting interesting, but my ability to spectate got cancelled when Jason looked over at me and pointed.

“She lives near me. She can drive us home.”

Brittney followed the direction of his finger and then made one of those faces like she smelled something really stinky.

“I’m not riding with … no.” She shook her head. “No way. I need my car tomorrow. I have cheer practice early in the morning.”

The big door guy sat down and smiled. “Not my problem.” He looked over her shoulder. “Next!”

No one was standing in line, but it was pretty effective as a dismissal. Jason grabbed Brittney over the back of her shoulders and steered her in my direction.

Bobby’s arm squeezed mine until I was close to losing circulation.

“You mind giving us a ride?” Jason asked when they stopped in front of us.

Brittney stared at the ceiling, pretty much fuming. Then she took out her phone and texted someone.

“Sure, no problem.” I didn’t even know that Jason was aware of the fact that we lived in the same ‘hood. He’d never even given me a second look driving by.

I’m forced to do a lot of yardwork, so I saw his car all the time. I always knew when Jason was home or going out somewhere. It wasn’t that I stalked him, but his loud Camaro was kind of hard to miss when it rumbled by.

“And Britt too?” He looked down at his girlfriend to get her approval of his plan.

A girl walked up behind Brittney and interrupted her answer. “Ready to go?” she asked.

We all stood there, staring at her. The interloper.

“Yes, I’m ready.” Brittney smiled at her boyfriend, completely ignoring Bobby and me.
 
“You coming?” she asked.

Jason frowned. “I already got us a ride.”

Brittney’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Maybe even quicker. “I’m not riding with them. I’m riding with Tiff. You are too.”

Tiff is Brittney’s best friend. They’re like clones of each other, making me wonder if Jason ever got them mixed up. People talked about them like they were one unit. Tiff and Britt. Britt-n-Tiff. They sounded like an annoying clothing label.

I got the distinct impression that Jason didn’t like having Brittney make his decisions for him. His expression was pretty clear, but his words sealed the deal.

“No thanks. I’m riding with them.” He gestured towards us with his chin.

Bobby squeezed me again. I was pretty sure he was close to squealing.

See, Bobby loves drama and he adores football players. This was a dream come true for him; Jason Bradley in my car with him in the backseat. That’s what he was imagining. I knew it then and he confirmed it for me later. Too bad he lets his brain get away from him sometimes.

I could see the steam starting to gather and spill out of Brittney’s ears, so I detached myself from Bobby’s death grip and showed the beefcake at the door my cup of cream soda, which he sniffed and tasted to verify its non-alcohol status. After his nod of approval, I reached into the bowl, snagging my keys.

“Well, I’m outta here,” I said with feigned cool. “Whoever is going with me better come now.” I walked away like I didn’t have a care in the world, like my stomach wasn’t in knots about Jason riding in my crappy car and Brittney coming after me with the fury of a thousand angry cheerleader girlfriends.

The grass was wet with dew, making me realize that it was a lot later than I had imagined. A quick check of my phone told me it was two in the morning. It made me wonder if somebody slipped something into my cream soda at the party causing me to go into some kind of drug-induced time warp.
How did I last so long at this lame partay?

“Sorry about that,” Jason said, catching up to Bobby and me as I reached the side of my car. “She can be a real pain the ass when she’s had too much to drink.”

“Aren’t you worried about her getting home?” I asked, realizing that he’d totally just abandoned her. What kind of boyfriend does that?

He slipped down my scale of awesomeness in that moment. Not that he was all that high up to begin with, but I reserved a special place in Doucheville for guys who ditched girls when they were vulnerable.

“Tiffany took her. I saw her get in the car. She’ll be fine.”

Slightly mollified, I unlocked my door and got in, leaning over to unlock Bobby’s. At least, I
thought
I was letting Bobby in next to me, but Jason grabbed the handle and helped himself to the front seat.

Bobby’s face fell, but he stepped over and got into the back seat.

I put the key in the ignition and then paused. Bobby’s expression in the mirror was killing me.

Sighing, I stopped my ignition sequence and leaned back against my seat, turning my head to the right. “Jason, do you mind getting in the back?”

The entire car went silent. Muffled sounds of party people yelling and laughing came through the windows.

“Why?” Jason asked.

Tons of things raced through my head a split second after he asked that question. Should I lie and say that there’s something wrong with the seat? With the seatbelt? Should I make up some lame story about how I drive better with people in the back? Should I joke and say I want to be his chauffeur for the night?

My eyes bugged out at that thought. Talk about labeling oneself a leper.
No
. I just had to tell the truth.

“Because that’s Bobby’s seat.”

Bobby’s jaw dropped open as he stared at my reflection in the mirror. I knew exactly what was going through his mind. He couldn’t believe I just told the school’s favorite son that he wasn’t wanted.

“He your boyfriend?” Jason asked, kind of laughing. “I thought he was gay.”

I sighed heavily. Jason was now the favorite son of Doucheville as far as I was concerned. “Just get in the back, please. Or find another ride.”

He opened the door, got out, and stood at the curb for a few seconds staring into the window.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” Bobby said in a loud whisper, leaning between the front seats. “You are completely crayzola crayon.”

“Just get up here, gaylord, or I’m going to go through all this humiliation for no reason.” Gaylord is the nickname Bobby gave himself five years ago. If there’s anybody crayzola crayon crazy in this car, it’s him, not me.

“Let’s tell him I’m your boyfriend,” Bobby said before opening his door. “Really blow his mind.”

“No. Just get in, would you? I’m tired and I want to go home.” I stared straight ahead, wondering if I would be forevermore branded head pariah with Jason’s entire squad of friends and hangers-on. That would make life interesting. Just the kind of interesting I like to avoid, in fact.

 
Bobby got in the front seat and shut the door. We exchanged a look when the back door opened and Jason got in, but then I faced the windshield again. Sometimes Bobby makes me laugh at inappropriate times, and I didn’t want Jason to think we were mocking him. Disliking someone and mocking him are totally different things, and I didn’t want any misunderstandings between us. As if it mattered. I can be really silly sometimes.

Halfway through the ride home, I got up the nerve to look in my rearview mirror at the back seat. I was used to seeing girls back there or Bobby, so it was weird how Jason seemed to take up half the entire space. Being a wide receiver, he’s shorter and lighter than a lot of the guys on the team, but he’s by no means small. Weight training class was mandatory for all the football players, and Jason has the kind of body that takes to that stuff naturally. His shoulders are broad and the muscles in his arms are obvious even when he’s not flexing.

Seeing him back there being all fit, reminded me how I was always telling myself I should get to the gym and work on my own muscles. I always came up with other things to do instead, though. I’m not lazy so much as easily bored.

We pulled onto Bobby’s street and I slowed down as I reached his driveway. Bobby turned around and grinned at Jason as I drew to a stop.

“So, you going to be in big trouble with Brittney or what?”
 
he asked.

Jason huffed out some air, like he was annoyed. “Probably.”

“She’s so drunk, she’ll probably forget it even happened,” Bobby said, trying to reassure him.

“You don’t know Brittney very well, do you?”

“Tell her that she got mad at you and didn’t want you to come along. We’ll totally back you up, won’t we?” Bobby looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Tiffany will set her straight,” Jason said, sounding like it was a foregone conclusion he was resigned to suffer. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”

Bobby turned back around and quickly texted something before opening his door. “Come on up front,” he said to Jason.

My phone beeped and I pulled it out of my bag enough to read the message.
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

I rolled my eyes. As if.

“I thought that was your seat,” Jason said, making me wish I could go bury my head in Bobby’s front yard. How embarrassing. Did I really say that?

“I hereby bequeath it to you. Use it wisely.” Bobby started to walk away but then he stopped and turned to face us. “Oh, but don’t touch the radio. The radio channel selection privilege does not come with the front seat privilege. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

He shook his hand like it was stinging, making me wish I had a go-go-gadget boxing glove I could shoot out at him.
Pop!
Right in the kisser. But I didn’t have one of those handy dandy gadgets, so I just shot him the shit-eye instead.
Way to make me look like a desperate loser, Gaylord.

Bobby giggled all the way to his front door. I swear I could still hear him haw-hawing, even with the thing closed up tight behind him.

Jason got out of the back and sat in the front next to me, slamming the door shut way harder than necessary.