Touchdown (7 page)

She tried to plant another kiss, but Clay turned his head and Carolyn didn't notice a thing. He wanted to break up with her but he had no clue as to how to do it. Focus, he thought, only he knew Carolyn would be really mad at him if he did. She might even cry. He hated it when she cried. How could he let her down? He knew that all of their friends would be annoyed at him, too.

“Well . . . the thing is, Carolyn, that . . . ”

Carolyn closed her eyes dreamily and sighed. “I've always wanted to see Paris. And London. You'll make so much money in the NFL—we'll be able to go places. Maybe you'll even get a deal with Nike or something . . . ”

She took a swig of Clay's beer and continued her soliloquy. “I mean, the only thing is, like, we wouldn't be able to bring the kids everywhere. Maybe a nanny?” Carolyn sat brooding for a moment. “Oh, I could ask my mom!”

Clay's eyes widened. “Carolyn!”

Carolyn turned her head to Clay's and nuzzled his nose.

“What, Clay?”

“I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.”

Carolyn threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, Clay—now?”

Clay reddened. “No,” he tried to explain.

“Then later,” Carolyn teased as she hopped off his lap to mingle with her sorority sisters.

Leigh walked over to Clay, her eyebrows raised. Clearly she'd been watching them.

“So that was you breaking up with her?”

“Leigh . . . you saw I tried. She didn't let me get a word in edgewise!” Clay rested his forehead into his hands. “Jeez. I bet she has our babies' names picked out.”

Leigh smirked. “Do you like the name Ashley? It's this year's most popular Southern baby-girl name.”

Clay sighed. “How did I get into this mess?”

Leigh slurped the last of her beer. “Simple. Coach's beautiful daughter likes you, and you like her.”

“I do like her, she's sweet. But I don't love her.” Clay turned to Leigh. “I'm going to end it. Really, I'm going to.”

“Right.” Leigh tossed her can in the garbage. “Whatever you say, Clayton.”

Carolyn stuck her head back into the kitchen “Clay! Clay's friend! Yoo-hoo—Come on down to the basement, y'all. The team is hanging down there.”

Clay and Leigh exchanged a look and started down the stairs.

The team was sprawled out on the couches and the carpets. A couple of the teammates were dueling each other in a game of Halo, letting out colorful expletives now and then.

Carolyn and all her sorority sisters sat in a loose circle, tittering and gossiping, keeping an eye on their boyfriends, comparing fake tans and salon stories.

When Clay made his entrance, the whole team cheered.

“Guys!” Carolyn called out, immediately commanding the entire basement's attention. “I think we should play spin the bottle!”

Clay noticed that alcohol-fueled Carolyn was even peppier than normal Carolyn. It seemed juvenile to play a game they hadn't played since they were kids, though no one wanted to argue with her.

“Come on!” Carolyn herded everyone to the center of the room and flicked off the video game. “Don't be party poopers!” The gamers let out a small whine, but acquiesced.

“Spin the bottle is so much fun! It's like, so vintage.” Carolyn motioned everyone to join.

Leigh and Clay rolled their eyes simultaneously but obediently joined the circle. Nobody had played this since junior high. At least she didn't insist on her game of Twister, like she had at their last party.

“When are you putting your plan into action?” Leigh whispered.

“After this,” Clay muttered through gritted teeth. Carolyn wasn't the girl for him, but she was still nice. He guessed it might not be a great idea to break up with her in front of the whole football team.

Carolyn pranced to the center and placed the beer can in the middle of the circle.

“Okay. Who wants to go first?”

No one was volunteering.

Clay felt bad for her, so he stood up. “All right Carolyn, I'll go,” he volunteered. Maybe the can would spin to Austin and he'd give him a fat, wet kiss on his cheek. That would be a hoot.

Carolyn brightened and let out a high squeal. “Yay! You go ahead, Clay.”

The crowd tittered as they watched their quarterback.

Clay pushed the can and as it wobbled and the team started chanting Carolyn's name: “Carolyn, Carolyn, Carolyn!”

But the can passed by Carolyn and came to rest pointing directly—blatantly—at Leigh.

Clay froze and looked at Leigh, his best buddy. Austin tittered. Carolyn was oblivious and shrugged at Clay, grinning, as if to say: well, that's the fun of the game.

It was all in good cheer, after all.

Clay swallowed. He was supposed to kiss Leigh, his best friend?

He wanted to pretend that it wouldn't mean anything, but he knew better than that. Leigh, whom he had walked with to and from school when they were kids. Leigh, who knew every secret, who was always there for him no matter what trouble he got into . . . who was the only one who knew how nasty his dad could get when he was angry or drank too much, or how sad his mom could be when—

Leigh, who did dishes with Clay at three in the morning. Leigh, who fixed cars, and loved Taylor Swift. Leigh, the most decent person who walked the earth . . . She was the only person in the world who truly knew him, yet still accepted him and was always there for him. No. He couldn't kiss her. He knew it wouldn't be platonic. It couldn't. That would just be crazy.

Leigh turned beet red, a sure sign that she was immensely nervous and also horribly uncomfortable.

Clay turned to her and hesitated. He was so close he could smell her breath—spearmint gum mixed with the beer he'd given her.

Austin guffawed. “Hurry up, guys! It's just a kiss!”

Clay felt terrified.

Leigh looked at him with her eyes wide and nodded slightly, as if giving him permission.

Clay tucked a reddish curl behind Leigh's freckled ears and pressed his lips against the lips of his best friend in the whole world.

Her mouth was perfect; it fit his like a puzzle. The kiss was powerful and loving and dizzying all at once. It was the most intense feeling Clay had ever experienced and chills ran up his spine. Their kiss lasted a second too long but it ended too quickly, and the players began hooting.

Leigh broke away and looked at him, confused.

Even Carolyn looked quizzically at Clay.

Clay's heart was pounding so loud he thought that everyone could hear it. Did he really just kiss Leigh? And did it just feel . . . like nothing he had ever felt before?

Austin would not shut his fat trap. “Dang, did it just get hotter in here?”

Carolyn, clearly annoyed, said, “No, Austin.”

Clay's teammates elbowed each other and looked at Clay admirably. He was a stud. Meanwhile, all the girls in the room tried to demolish Leigh with their eyes.

Leigh kept blushing redder, redder, and redder.

A million thoughts were racing through Clay's mind. He fumbled, and then said loudly, avoiding Leigh's eyes, “Well, Leigh, at least we got that over with. Now, let's party!”

The team hooted loudly. The girls laughed.

Leigh turned and fled the room.

• • •

Clay kept sipping his drink, willing the alcohol to work its calming effect. Leigh had left silently, but Clay knew that she must be really angry. She would never strand Clay if she weren't fuming.

Clay surveyed the party, which was winding down. Some couples were making out on the couches; many had left to go to the next party. Carolyn was deeply involved in a conversation with a few of her devout sorority clones. While Carolyn's grave expression gave the impression of a serious discussion one would have concerning world politics, Clay knew she was probably talking about the benefits of waxing over shaving.

He noticed Carolyn glance worriedly in his direction, and he managed a lazy smile so she wouldn't feel obligated to come over.

Leigh, Leigh, Leigh. What did I do? I messed up. The only person he ever truly cared about and he had humiliated her in front of everyone. Besides her spunk, Leigh was smart. Especially in the ways that counted. She always knew what to do in any situation—saw straight through the B.S., did the right thing, and never cared a hoot what anybody thought.

He, on the other hand, rarely felt brave enough to do what he wanted. Sure, he pretended to be confident, but he knew he was faking it. He didn't feel like a leader—rather, whatever people thought he should do was what he did. To stadiums full of fans, he was a hero. To his teammates, he was the leader. But nobody would've guessed he didn't feel like a star—more like a freaking puppet. Like every action he did was determined in advance by other people. His parents. Coach. His team. He felt like he had no control over deciding what he alone wanted. He hoped Leigh would forgive him for embarrassing her like that in front of everybody—but could understand if she never spoke to him again.

A chill sped through his back. He could easily face down giants who tackled him on the field, but the idea of losing Leigh terrified him. Why would she ever want to stick around him? He knew she was too good for him and he felt he didn't deserve her friendship, let alone her love.

He saw Carolyn look at him again, so Clay got up and ambled out of the room. He had to find something stronger to drown out his thoughts. They were so, so loud.

Clay found his keys and headed to his Jeep. Forget these relationships, he thought. I need to get out of here. He headed out the door.

Carolyn came out after him. “Where are you going, Claybear?”

At first Clay thought he wanted to go home, but he changed his mind. “I'm going to let off some steam in the park.” It was where he would go when he wanted to think. Where Leigh went for the same reason.

“Fun! I'm coming!” Carolyn said. “Just a sec and I'll bring more drinks.”

They sped off into the night.

Goldie opened her eyes. What a crazy dream, she thought. I've got to cut back on that fasting diet. She used to only dream about that mysterious guy in the white suit—but now she dreamed that she got killed on her wedding night.

“Avner?” she called out. She sat up and observed her surroundings; a white bedspread covered her, on a bed in a room that seemed to gently move with the speed of the blowing wind. She put her feet on the floor, and it felt moist and light—as if she was stepping on a cloud. “Mindy?”

When nobody answered, Goldie walked to the door. She opened the door and it was full of a light so blinding that she quickly shut it. “Daddy? Hello?”

“Goldie, I've been waiting so long to see you.”

She turned her head and thought she would drop dead from the shock of seeing Judy.

Her mom looked like Goldie—same small nose, green eyes, and petite figure—though she had light hair and was dressed in a white robe.

“Oh. My. God,” Goldie said. “It's happened.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” her mother murmured and drew her in for a hug.

“I'm in the loony bin. I knew it. I knew that's what would happen if I spent too much time on the wedding details instead of the business. Avner did say so, but did I listen? Of course not.”

“Goldie, you're not crazy. It's me, your mother,” she said and stepped back so Goldie could take a closer look.

Goldie appraised her mother. She seemed to be there, and yet didn't seem solid at all—more like a mist. “Mama, darling, you died when I was twelve,” Goldie said finally.

Goldie's mother nodded. “Right,” she said softly.

Goldie laughed. “I'm still dreaming. Did someone slip something in my drink?”

Judy shook her head no. “Goldie, you need to accept what's happened.”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “Accept what? That you died and left me to take care of your family?”

“Goldie, I'm so sorry that happened, I never meant—”

Goldie waved her hand. “Meant, shmeant. You left.”

“I didn't want to.”

“Then why did you let yourself get sick? Huh? Who in their right mind lets themselves be a schmatte like you . . . my God, how old were you when you died? In your thirties?”

“I—”

“God!” Goldie exhaled. “You didn't take care of your health, you didn't exercise, you didn't even eat right, and you expected to live to see me on my wedding day?”

Judy started to cry. “I did the best I could.”

“Obviously not good enough,” Goldie snorted. “I'm so done with this insanity or dream or whatever this is. I'd like to wake up now. Hello . . . ”

Judy stood beside her. “Goldie, you are awake,” she said softly.

“Mindy! Daddy, Avner! Hello, where is everyone?”

“Goldie, it's no use. They can't hear you.”

Goldie's eyes narrowed at her mother. “What did you do to them?”

“I didn't do anything. They can't hear you beyond the curtain, sweetheart.”

“Don't call me sweetheart! Get out of my dream now and go back to heaven.”

“I am in heaven.”

“That doesn't even make sense. How could you be in heaven and be talking to me?”

“Goldie, sweetheart, you're also in heaven now. Well, technically, the stop before heaven.”

Goldie threw her head back. “Mama, how could I be in heaven if I'm alive?”

“Because you're dead, sweetie. You died a few minutes ago, on your wedding night.”

“I'm not listening to this nonsense.” Goldie ran to the door and pounded on it. “Daddy! Take me away from this crazy woman!”

Judy appeared right in front of her. “You'll get used to it. It's nice here, in heaven. No pain, no suffering, and when you are ready, you join the Light.”

Goldie shoved the door open and was blinded by the light beyond. She tried to push herself through it, but it was too bright.

“You're not ready yet, Goldie. You need to detox before you join the Light,” her mother said.