Divine Vices (12 page)

By
fourth period my head and neck felt like someone had beaten me with a shovel,
and I had every intension of going to the nurse’s station to avoid gym class.
Thankfully, Gwen informed me of the good news that had Coach Whitmore blowing
smoke out of his ears. All the Homecoming props had been delivered to the
gymnasium during the previous hour while that class was outside, in which the
entrance to the girls’ locker room had been barricaded closed by loads of boxes
and displays.

All
the girls from that hour were forced to attend the next period still donned in
their athletic uniforms while they waited for the entrance to be cleared. Some
of the guys from our hour started the long process, but we females argued that
since we still didn’t have access to proper workout clothes we shouldn’t be
forced to participate. Out of fairness and complete reluctance, Coach Whitmore
said that no one who didn’t want to partake in today’s activities had to,
including the guys.

So
ten minutes into the hour, we all strolled out onto the playing field in our
street clothes and took our places on the bleachers as what mainly consisted of
the football team took to the turf for a few rounds of flag football.

“How
long till you get your Baby back?” asked Ian as we parked ourselves seats at
the top of the stands.

“Till
further notice,” I moaned, rubbing my temples.

“Oh
my God!” gasped Gwen, repeatedly jabbing her pointer finger into my arm.

“Oww!”
I said, more out of annoyance than pain.

Gwen
grabbed my chin and angled it in the direction of the football field, my eyes
immediately landing on Jack as he fed his shirt out over his head. He tossed
the thermal to the ground just before catching a returning pass. No muscle on
his sinewy and lean inverted triangular frame went overlooked. With his rippled
abs, toned arms, broad shoulders, and defined pectorals, Jack could easily put
any professional model to shame.

“You’ve
got to be kidding,” muttered Ian.

“Jealous?”
Gwen teased.

“Of
what? Over inflated egos from a group of academic underachievers? No, I’m happy
where I am, thanks,” he confirmed, kicking his feet up onto the bleachers in
front of us as he rested his back on the railings. “It’s forty-three degrees
out here, and Coach offered these idiots reversible jerseys. Instead of
following logic, moronic intuition guides them to rip off their shirts for no
given reason other than to impress women.”

“I’m
impressed,” said Gwen, gawking at all the bare torsos.

“Yes,
because what really determines one’s character is based on how many sit-ups he
can do,” cracked Ian. “What’s even more pathetic than this cry for attention is
the fact that this juvenile display is going to become habit to them. Sure, it
looks fine now, but in about twenty years when their six-packs have turned into
fleshy kegs, they’re still gonna be prancing about sans shirts, scaring innocent
bystanders and scarring small children.”

“Awww,”
teased Gwen. “Sounds like someone’s still suffering with residual effects from
Mr. Johnson.”

“Is
that the neighbor you have that’s always doing his yard work shirtless?” I
asked, cringing at the mental visuals of a thick beer gut and man-boobs.

“One
in the same,” Ian said with a chuckle. “If only my brain worked like an
Etch-A-Sketch, I would have shaken my head violently and erased the images away
years ago. There’s nothing in this world that will remove the emotional scars
he left.”

“You
ever think that maybe he’s always looked like that, and that he’s just
delusional with his self confidence?”

“Nope,
because he showed me some photos back from his glory days, and he was none
other than the star quarterback of your very own New Haven Knights.”

“Well,
even if that is their future in a couple decades, I still wouldn’t mind finding
out what all that muscle can do now,” Gwen replied immodestly.

“Just
because they have the muscle, it doesn’t mean they know what to do with it,”
remarked Ian.

Coach
called out a drill and the teams broke out into a play. Coming into a perfect
stance with the football gripped properly in his grasp, Jack relinquished a
deadly throw that held cannon bearing velocity. It landed firmly into the arms
of a player a remarkably long ways down the field.

“Care
to recanter?” asked Gwen, smugly.

“Any
woman with sense would need more than a cliché display of testosterone to gain
any respected feelings for a guy like that,” said Ian.

“Well,
we can see Foster, here, is enjoying the view, and I can damn well guarantee
that she’s appreciating more than the athleticism,” Gwen rebutted, giving me a
nudge as I stared a bit too hypnotically in Jack’s general vicinity.

It
took me a few seconds to process her last statement, and it was too late to try
for a denial.

“You’re
kidding me?” said Ian, deflated by my lack of response. “Not you too?”

“Oh,
leave her alone,” said Gwen, graciously coming to my defense. “I’m just happy
to see her taking an interest in the opposite sex. I was beginning to believe
she was a nun-in-training.”

Another
play went into motion, and again, Jack launched the football down the field
with precision. All the girls on the bleachers beside us gave him a round of
applause, igniting a massive eye roll from Ian. Jack gave a sarcastic and
theatrical bow just as a few of the girls started giving him catcalls and
whistles.

“Excuse
me while I go hurl,” said Ian, preparing to stand.

Everyone
on the field came back into position. Just as the next play commenced, I got a
massive knot in my stomach, and I instinctively clutched Ian’s hand.

“Cass,
you okay?” he asked.

My
eyes homed in on a linebacker who barreled straight through the other players
with a bull rush, leaving Jack completely exposed.

“He’s
going for the blitz!” I exclaimed.

Just
as the words rushed out, the linebacker sacked Jack, drilling him into the
ground with an annihilating impact. Coach immediately blew his whistle, and
everyone on the bleachers rose to their feet in concern as Jack laid motionless
on the field.

“This
doesn’t look good,” said Gwen, watching one of the players run off to go fetch
help.

The
three of us climbed down the stands and headed towards the forty-yard line.

“What
the hell were you thinking, Chambers?!” shouted Coach, getting into the
linebacker’s face.

“It’s
okay,” grumbled Jack a moment later, groggily starting to rise to his feet.
“I’m fine.”

“No,
Matthews, stay where you are. You could have a concussion, or worse,” said
Coach.

“Trust
me, I’m fine. I don’t need a school nurse shining a light into my eyes,
pretending like they know what they’re looking for,” Jack said with a stifled
chuckle. “I know how to take a beating.”

Despite
Coach’s insistency, he rose to his feet with the help of two other players pulling
him up by his arms.

“Take
him to the nurse’s office, no excuses,” addressed Coach.

Jack
sarcastically saluted him and walked off the field with a player on each side.

After
making an appearance in Study Hall, I headed to the library to work on my
biology report. As I made my way down the central hallway, I could hear Jack’s
voice from inside the main office.

“Mr.
Matthews, despite your belief in my incompetence, please take some helpful
advice,” said Nurse Patty. “Avoid high impact recreations, especially given
your medical history.”

“Well,
there goes my social life,” he cracked, strutting out of the nurse’s station.

“If
you have any problems, get your butt back in here. You hear me?” Patty said.

“Like
a whistle,” replied Jack. As soon as he saw me coming towards him, he couldn’t
help but smile. “Checking in on me?”

“Just
going to do research,” I replied, flashing him my biology textbook. “You okay,
though?”

“Tiptop.”

“What
did she mean by ‘your medical history’?” I asked, the two of us heading down
the hall towards the secondary cafeteria.

“I
had an accident last fall. Haven’t played ball since.”

“Oh,
I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “And I have to say, that was the roughest game
of flag football I’ve ever seen. What happened out there?”

“You
mean with the over-exuberant linebacker? Yeah, that was just a bit of a
misunderstanding.”

“Bulldozing
you into the ground was an accident?”

“No,
that was wholly intentional. The mix-up was over the fact that he thinks I was
flirting with his girlfriend during Algebra 2.”

“And
you weren’t?” I asked doubtingly.

“Firstly,
she was the one who started talking to me, and secondly, I didn’t know she was
dating anybody,” confirmed Jack. “So, really, I’m just a victim of
circumstance.”

“Oh,
you poor, innocent soul,” I mocked. “I’d suggest for you to be more careful
with whom you make eyes at, but I have a fairly strong feeling the message
would fall upon deaf ears.”

Jack
leaned toward me, as if to tell me a secret. “If you want me all to yourself,
then just say so.”

“And
expect for a serial seducer to change the error of his ways? Sorry, I don’t
have the time to wait for Hell to freeze over,” I cracked, trying to avoid all
chances at falling for any of his possible advances.

“I
can be very determined when the reward is worth it,” he replied.

“Like
the same careful dedication you demonstrate in regard to your own health?” I
quipped. “I know far too many men like you. Too high opinion of themselves, too
little practicality to remind them of their own mortality. You all think you’re
invincible, whether it’s from physical limitations or ethical persecution. And
I’d prefer to not fall victim to your latter.”

“What
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” he remarked amusingly.

“And
what
does
kill you still leaves you dead,” I confirmed.

“Perhaps,”
he said, in a strangely, matter-of-fact, yet skeptical manner.

“What,
are you immortal? Greek god? Vampire?” I teased.

“Nah,
I’m really not into the whole scepters and togas thing, and I like the sunlight
far too much,” he countered.

“Oh,
really?” I laughed. “So, unidentified immortal, what was your favorite period
in history to live through? Rise of the Roman Empire? American Revolution?
Victorian era?”

He
shook his head. “No, I’d have to go with the late-sixties, and the whole of the
seventies.”

“In
the entirety of mankind, your Golden Age can be found in the latter half of the
twentieth century?”

“What
can I say? I’m a sucker for running water and indoor plumbing,” he replied
whimsically. “Besides, you’ve got Hendrix, Zeppelin, the best cars ever
produced, not to mention the perfect pastime in the evolution of technology,”
he explained. “Those were the days when people really connected with one
another. No Skype, text messaging, or Facebook updates. To be a functional
member of society, you actually had to leave the comfort of your desk chair.
Back then, people had real communication skills. You still opened doors for
people, and said ‘thank you’ when the gesture was offered to you in return. It
was the perfect median between innovation and simplicity.”

I
could only look at him bemusedly, as if he had plucked the words right out of
my head.

“What?
You disagree?” he asked, taking notice to my expression.

I
shook my head.

“What
then? You’re looking at me as if I just spoke to you in Klingon.”

I
finally laughed. “No, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“You
mean something well articulated?”

“NO!
No, that’s not what I-”

“Take
it easy,” he reassured, seeing me blushing at my misuse of words. “I know, I
don’t look like the archetype of intelligence and appreciation. Just goes to
show you, sometimes people can surprise you.”

“I’m
seeing more of that these days,” I replied rather sheepishly.

Suddenly,
a bloodcurdling bang erupted in back of us as we entered the cafeteria. I
whipped around to see that the heavy duel doors behind us had somehow detached
from the magnetic holders on the base of the wall and had slammed shut.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned to Jack only to see that he was clutching
the back of his head. He extended his free hand out onto the wall beside him
for support as his knees began to buckle.

“You
okay? What’s wrong?” I asked.

Before
Jack could reply, I instinctively reached out and wrapped my arms around him to
keep him propped upright as he started to slide down.

Clearly
out of my weight class, I struggled helping him over to the closest table.

“I’m
gonna go get the nurse,” I said after he took a seat.

He
grabbed my arm as I started to walk away. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly
you’re not,” I replied.

“Trust
me, I’m okay. It’s just residual effects from my accident last fall. I didn’t
hit my head on the field just now. Chambers just knocked the wind outta me.”

“Is
it normal to still suffer with symptoms from over a year ago?” I asked, sitting
down beside him.

“Well,
after suffering from a subdural hematoma following a severe skull fracture, I’d
find it hard to believe that someone could just bounce back,” he said, still
holding the back of his head.  

“Oh
my God.”

“Yeah,
I only wish I could say it wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounds, but clearly, I
can’t.”

“Was
there any permanent damage?”

He
smiled. “You mean, am I still able to perform at optimum level?”

“Anything
permanent asides from the broken innuendo filter in your head?” I chuckled,
giving him a light slap on the arm.

“That
wasn’t working beforehand, but everything else is functioning just fine. So you
can rest assured.”

“You
two have hall passes?” asked Mrs. Oakley, an office administrator, as she
walked by.

I
handed her mine.

“And
what about you, Romeo?”

“I
just came from the nurse. Patty herself will confirm,” said Jack.

“Well,
you both seem to be healthy enough to be on your own
separate
ways, so I
suggest you hop to it,” she said sternly.

We
stood up and Jack took hold of my hand, kissing the back of it before gently
returning it to my side.

“We
on after school?”

“Sure.
Same time?”

He
nodded.

Mrs.
Oakley waved him away, so he gave me an impish grin and a wink as he
surrendered to her order and left. I started heading down the hall as well when
she said, “I’d be careful with that one if I were you.”

I
turned to look at her just as she surveyed my appearance disapprovingly.

“And
I’d rethink that plunging neckline as well. You’re a young lady. Leave
something to the imagination,” she derided. “I don’t want to send you to the
principal for a dress code violation.”

“Thanks,
I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, rather vexed.