nowhere (8 page)

Coach blew his whistle again. The team moaned even louder. I had to try to make this right. The guys had suffered enough due to my stupidity. “Coach, I’ll stay and run as long as you want me to. Let the other guys go. It’s not their fault.” 

“Not a chance, Dooner. You guys win as a team, you lose as a team, and you pay for each other’s mistakes as a team,” Coach bellowed. He waved his arm at me. “Now, get back out there.”

We were sluggishly making our way back from the 50-yard line, when I looked back and saw Tank lagging far behind. He was clutching his side and looked like he was about to throw up. His face was the strangest shade of purplish-red I’d ever seen, reminding me of a plate full of overcooked beets.

“Dooner, Tyler, and Casey, stay,” Coach announced. I felt relieved, and wondered if he’d seen the look on Tank’s face too. “The rest of you can go. Practice is over. But I must warn you, just because this morning was unnecessarily rough, I won’t be taking it easy on you this afternoon. You better go home and rest up. You’re to be back here at three o’clock sharp and not one minute later. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team responded. I could hear in their voices how angry they all were at the three of us.

“Now get on outta here, before I change my mind.” He waved his hand, dismissing them.

The team slumped off the field. No one bothered to turn around to see what further punishment Coach had planned. I didn’t blame them.

Coach had us line up on the end zone again. We continued with the suicide drills. I hated every second of it, but there was no way I was going down before Tyler or Casey. I’d rather drop dead than give either of them the satisfaction of beating me. Probably realizing no one was going to give up any time soon, he finally shouted, “Alright boys, bring it in.” 

The three of us could barely stand. Coach gave us a disgusted look. The physical punishment was over, but I sensed the worst was yet to come. I braced myself for bad news. “Do you know what it means to be part of this team?”

“Yes,” we answered, our voices filled with shame. 

“As it stands right now, the three of you are benched for our first game.” My mouth hung open and I heard Tyler gasp. Coach ignored our distress and continued. “You should consider yourselves lucky that I’m not throwing your stupid asses off this team. You know that I have a zero tolerance policy for fighting.”

“We’re sorry,” we mumbled in unison. I wanted to plead our case and convince him to reverse his decision, but I knew he wouldn’t. Tyler and Casey also remained silent. We’d have to prove ourselves.

“What the hell were you three thinking? You’re supposed to be my dream team!” He lamented. “Go. I’m sick of looking at you.” He turned and walked slowly toward the school.

I watched his retreating figure, trying to muster the strength to move. I felt frozen in place. The news was even worse than I’d imagined. Tyler and Casey also seemed to be in shock.

“I can’t believe we’re going to miss the biggest game of the season.” I slumped my shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” Tyler agreed. I wanted to say that it was his fault we were in this predicament, but I bit my tongue.

“You can say that again,” said Casey.

“I have a lot riding on that game,” stated Tyler emphatically. He wasn’t the only one. The scouts would be there. The scholarship was my one chance to get out of this town.

Determinedly I said, “We’ll have to make sure that we change Coach’s mind.”

We walked silently to the locker room, each lost in our own thoughts. 

I took a quick shower and left. I kept my eyes focused on the ground. I didn’t need any more trouble. I was almost to the door when someone burst out of the main office and collided with me. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. My body registered her soft curves and lavender scent. We’d only met two days ago, but it seemed like I’d known her forever.  When our bodies touched, electrical currents shot through me. 

“Hey, Mikayla.” Taking in her beauty and charm, I instantly regretted my decision not to call her back.

“James, I’m glad I ran into you.”

“You are?” I said, my voice full of surprise. “I thought you’d be mad at me for not taking you on that hike like I promised. I had to help my dad change a tractor tire.” I heard how lame that sounded as soon as the words were out of my mouth. 

“That’s okay, it’s no big deal.” She shrugged.

I wondered at her nonchalant attitude. Most girls would be fuming mad. She must not be interested. I was about to try to convince her to give me a second chance when a woman with wavy brown hair and brown eyes exited the main office. 

Mikayla grabbed her arm. “Mom, I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is James. James, this is my mom.” I was thrilled to hear her call me a friend.

“Hi.  Mrs.—” I put my hand out.

“Mrs. Mooney,”

“Call me Dooner. Everyone does.” We politely shook hands.

Mikayla rolled her eyes. “Mom, James offered to give me a ride home.” She emphasized the word James. “Is that okay? I figured you wouldn’t mind since you have a meeting this afternoon.” She flashed me a devilish grin. 

I wasn’t really sure what was going on, but I didn’t care. It looked like I was getting a second chance without even having to ask. I played along. “I don’t mind dropping Mikayla off.” I stressed her name. “It’s on my way.” 

“Sure, that’s fine.” Mrs. Mooney chuckled, apparently finding amusement in our playful banter. “I’ll see you later at home.”

Once we were out of earshot, I turned to Mikayla and asked, “Do you really want a ride home, or was that some sort of cover-up for your mom’s benefit?” I looked back over my shoulder and saw that she’d already disappeared down the long hall. “Either way it’s cool.”

“I really want a ride home.” She followed me out to Old Faithful. I opened the passenger door for her and she hopped in. I enjoyed what she was wearing today—faded jean shorts and a fitted red T-shirt with black Converse sneakers. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, curls escaping everywhere.

I walked around the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. I started the engine and headed in the direction of her grandfather’s farm. The radio was on; I played with the dials, searching for a song.

Mikayla was the first to speak. “When you drop me off, do you have a sec’?” 

“Yeah, I have a two hour break before I have to be back at practice.” Maybe my day wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

“Perfect.” She didn’t say anything else, but left me wondering what she had in mind. She leaned her head back and relaxed as the wind from the open window blew her hair all around. I wasn’t prepared for how happy it made me feel to see her riding in my truck. I could get used to having her next to me.

I waited until we were parked in her driveway to apologize. I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about yesterday. Thanks for giving me a second chance. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

“You just did by giving me a ride home. We can call it even.” She smiled. “Wait here.  I’ll be right back.” She quickly jumped down from the truck and walked toward the house.

Without even being invited, I followed her.

She stopped on the front porch and turned around to face me, “Wait here. And I mean it.”  She pointed her finger at my chest.

“Where are you going?” I asked, but she didn’t respond.

She disappeared into the house, returning a minute later. “Here’s your shirt. I washed it for you.” She held it out to me. 

I was taken aback. This was not what I had expected. “I said you could keep it.” I pushed it back at her. 

“You said a lot of things.” She sounded both angry and hurt. 

Finally I understood why she had me drive her home. She wasn’t giving me a second chance; she was paying me back for standing her up. She led me here on false pretenses only to let me down. “So you are mad about yesterday.” She didn’t say anything but the angry look on her face said it all. “I really was helping my dad change a tractor tire. I called. Didn’t Emma tell you?”

“Yeah and she also said that you’d call back.”

“I took a shower and then crashed.” I didn’t tell her that until I ran into her today I’d decided she’d be better off without me. “Changing a tractor tire isn’t as easy as it sounds.”  I took a deep breath. Lowering my voice and changing my tone, I added, “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Can you give me another chance?” 

“No.” She turned to disappear back into the house.

I couldn’t let her go that easy. I had to get her to change her mind about me. I reached out and quickly pulled her against my chest. I could feel her heart beating against mine. I paused one second too long the other night and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. I dipped my head down. I couldn’t wait to taste the sweetness of her mouth. I was inches away from touching my lips to hers when she stiffened in my arms.

She pushed against my chest with both hands. I let her go. “It’s time for you to leave, James.” She stormed inside, slamming the door behind her. 

I bent over and picked up my fallen shirt. I left it neatly folded on the swing. I wanted her, but I could wait. Forcing her to feel something that she wasn’t ready for was not my style. She’d come around. She wouldn’t have bothered to go to such extremes to get back at me if she didn’t care. I’d give her time to cool down and then I’d be back. 

Mike

I banged the kitchen cupboard doors, releasing frustration. I rummaged around in the refrigerator, searching for something to eat—I tended to eat when I was upset. Due to a lack of better options, I decided on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I slammed the ingredients down on the counter. Slapping two pieces of bread together, I made a quick sandwich. I added a handful of chips to my plate. 

Pop-Pop strolled into the kitchen. “What’s all the ruckus? It feels like an earthquake. I know you miss California and all, but this is taking it too far.”

“I’m making lunch,” I retorted as I plopped down at the table to eat.

“What you got there?” he asked, eyeing my sandwich. 

“Plain old pb and j.”

“All that noise just to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Pop-Pop settled into his usual place at the kitchen table, folding his hands. Silently he watched as I stuffed a handful of salty chips in my mouth and chewed. I felt guilty for eating in front of him. “Do you want me to make you one?” I mumbled with my mouth full.

“I don’t eat peanut butter. I can’t stand the stuff. I never could understand why kids love it so much.”

“It’s good.” I took a bite of my sandwich and acted like I was eating a fifty-dollar lobster tail. 

“I’ll take your word for it. What I’d love is a turkey sandwich with some homegrown lettuce on it. A slice of tomato would taste good too.”

I scraped my chair loudly across the kitchen floor as I pushed back from the table. Once again I rummaged around, getting out all the ingredients. Only this time I made a turkey sandwich.

“You sure are like a bull in a china shop,” he snickered.

My heart softened a little. My dad used to tell me that.

I’d almost finished making his lunch when he added, “Oh yeah, don’t forget the dill pickle. I like a dill pickle on the side. And no chips for me.”

“No problem,” I muttered, doing what he’d requested. I placed the plate in front of him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a big bite. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

I sat back down to finish my own lunch.

“Did you see Emma at school?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t she have cheerleading try-outs today?”

“I think so.” I didn’t pay much attention to what Emma did.

“I wonder if she made the squad. She sure seemed excited. It’s good to see her trying to make friends” He was speaking more to himself than to me. “For her sake, I hope she makes the team. What’s your story? You make any friends yet?” 

“I already have friends. Too bad they’re all on the West Coast.”

“Humph.”  He crunched into his pickle, ignoring my surly attitude. “What about that truck I saw pull out of my driveway a few minutes ago? I thought I recognized it. Doesn’t it belong to Jack Muldoon’s son? I can’t remember the boy’s first name.” He scratched his head. “What I do know is that he’s one hell of a football player. Why, he’s even got a shot at playing pro ball. Imagine, a farmer’s kid with all that talent. Just goes to show you that you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“You and your clichés,” I exclaimed, letting out a deep sigh. “Now I know where Aunt Carol gets them.”

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked. 

“Really, Pops,” I said, giving him a nickname. It suited him better than Pop-Pop. I could tell he thought so too. His eyes brightened. 

Turning serious again, he said, “You didn’t answer my question. Is that Muldoon boy a friend of yours?”

“His name is James. Most call him Dooner.” I rolled my eyes to indicate how ridiculous his nickname sounded. “Either way, I’d hardly call him a friend. We just met three days ago.”

“Well, I saw how that boy looked at you, and to me it looked like he’s interested in being more than your friend. I may be old, but I can recognize when a boy wants to court a girl.”

“Excuse me?” I shook my head. “Do you know what year it is? People don’t use the word ‘court’ anymore.” Once I got beyond the old fashioned vocabulary, I realized that he must have been watching us. My face turned red. “You were spying on us?”

“I wasn’t spying on you. I was sitting in my chair, working on today’s crossword puzzle, like always. I heard a truck pull in, so I got up to see who it was. The two of you were talking on the porch. It was nothing that concerned me, so I sat back down.”

I scowled.

“That reminds me. Today’s puzzle’s a tough one. Maybe you can help. Your mom’s always going on about how smart you are.” He pulled the crossword out of his front shirt pocket.  “Do you know the Spanish word for bear?”

“Oso.  O-s-o,” I readily responded.

He clicked his pen and filled in the answer. “By golly, Miss Molly, you’re right. It fits.”

I shook my head in disbelief at how easily he’d succeeded in distracting me.  “Good one, trying to make me forget that we were talking about you spying on me.” He looked baffled, but Pops was sharper than he was pretending to be. “As I was saying, I don’t know what you saw, but James is not my friend.”