Saturday was about the most fun anyone has ever had in the history of the world. Listening to Jeff Peterson talk about subflooring would be a trip to Disney World in comparison. I milked, of course, and did some work around the barn, and tried not to think about Brian, which was like trying not to breathe. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and went to see Kari at Jorgensen's Ice Cream. She was really busy but she gave me a big smile, which cheered me up a lot, and invited me to a party at the gravel pit, which cheered me up even more.
So after milking I took a long shower and tried to figure out what to do with my hair, and ended up with a ponytail again—someone out there has all the hairstyling brains I should have been born with—and a clean pair of jeans and a Red Bend T-shirt, so you can see how totally sexy I was, and went off in Mom's Caravan as she yelled "drive safely" after me because if she didn't the police will come and arrest her and put her in prison. That's what she told me, anyhow.
The party turned out to be pretty big, with kegs and a bunch of teen counselors from local summer camps. I don't go to many parties like this, which probably doesn't surprise you too much, and I'm not much of a drinker, but it was nice anyway. I talked a bit with Kari's brother Kyle, who's Red Bend's starting QB and who said it was too bad Curtis couldn't play for Red Bend because it would be really nice to have a Schwenk on the team. That was weird. Then his girlfriend came over and didn't want to talk football, so they went somewhere else.
Brian wasn't there.
I ended up sitting on an old log with Kari, looking over all those people talking and having fun. Kari chattered away for a while but then she got quiet too.
I sighed this huge sigh, feeling just so miserable. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, D.J.," she said, looking ready for some big conversation.
"What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"
She broke up like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. It might have been the beer. It cheered me up too, if you want to know the truth. We laughed pretty hard.
Just then Amber of all people showed up, nodding to me like we hadn't had a huge fight the day before. The three of us sat there not saying too much. All of a sudden I asked, "Can you two keep a secret?"
"Uh-huh," Amber said, not taking her eyes off me, and I knew she was thinking about Brian.
I dug at the log, peeling the bark off.
"What is it?" Kari asked, nudging me. "Come on. My lips are sealed."
"Your lips are covered in beer," I said, which made her giggle.
There was this long silence again. I guess I could have said forget it and walked away and that would have been the end of it. But I don't think that fast. If I thought that fast I wouldn't have opened up my mouth in the first place.
"It's just—please, don't tell anyone—I'm going to try out for the football team."
"Jesus," Amber said.
I kept working away at that log. "Jeff Peterson is finding out if it's even possible ... Please don't tell Kyle." I already regretted opening my mouth. If he found out, or anyone, and it turned out I couldn't ... that would be the worst. Finally I looked at Kari.
She was grinning the biggest grin I've ever seen. "Then I'm doing cheerleading."
"What!" Amber and I both gasped.
"Why not? If you've got the guts for football, I can at least do that. Volleyball sucks! I'll get to wear a little uniform, do all those dance steps—I used to do gymnastics, you know."
"But you—come on, Kari—" I couldn't even speak.
"Besides, you need someone to cheer you on."
I couldn't believe it. I mean, football is one thing. But cheerleading? I'd never have the guts to do that. Although Kari could really yell during basketball, and she liked people.
She grinned at me again. "Don't back out on me now."
"No way." I turned to Amber. "So what do you think? You in?"
Amber took a swig of beer. "I think it's stupid and pathetic."
We both laughed for a second until we realized she was serious.
"You're just playing football so you can be around all those guys."
"No, I'm not—" I said.
"It's disgusting. It's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard of." She drained her beer. "You seriously need to reexamine your priorities." And she stomped off, just like that.
Well. Kari and I sat there for a few minutes, feeling pretty squashed.
"What's up with her?" Kari asked.
I had no idea. "I hope she doesn't tell anyone."
"Who'd she tell? We're the only people she talks to." Kari had a point.
"Do you think it's disgusting?" I had to ask.
"I think it's totally cool, and I think you're going to kick their asses, and I think you're going to be twice as good as your brothers."
"No way," I said. But I didn't say it too loudly. I wanted those words to, you know, stay in the air a bit longer. Then Kyle came by, and Kari just kept going on and on about football and how Red Bend was missing a couple key players that the team could not live without, until eventually I had to give her a nudge but unfortunately I nudged her just as she was drinking so she ended up with beer down her shirt, which she didn't seem to mind but I felt bad. Anyway, it was about time for me to leave.
When I got to Mom's Caravan, there was Amber sitting on the hood, which is hard to do because it slopes so much. She looked like she'd been there awhile.
"Hey," I said. "You okay?"
She nodded, studying her beer cup.
"You sure?" I asked finally, just for something to say.
"You really like him, don't you?" she asked, more to the cup than to me.
I shrugged. "You're right. He'd never go out with me."
"Do you like him?" she asked again.
I nodded. It was too much to say out loud.
"Do you, you know, fool around with him?"
I shook my head. Even thinking about that made me hurt.
Amber studied her beer. "You don't get it, do you?"
"I told you, it would never happen—"
"You're with me."
"You're with me. You're not with him. It's the two of us. Don't you see that?"
All of a sudden I could barely stand. And it wasn't the beer, I can assure you.
"Say something," she said.
I swallowed hard. "I don't know what to—I didn't know. I didn't know that."
"How could you not know?" Amber asked miserably.
"How ... how long have you known?"
"Years. I've known for years."
Remember when I said that I only saw Amber cry one time, when Hawley beat us in basketball? Well, I lied. Because I could see tears on her face now, in the moonlight.
"I'm sorry." That's all I could think of to say. It was so totally lame.
Amber slid off the Caravan and walked away. She didn't look back, and I didn't follow her.
So. That gave me a little something to think about driving home. Amber was ... one of those people. Jeez. I don't say "those people" like it's a bad thing. But those words— lesbian, homosexual, gay—they're like medical words. Like cancer. I didn't want to think of Amber having cancer. I know, you die from cancer and you don't die from being gay, not unless you have AIDS, which I've never heard of anyone in Wisconsin having. I know I sound like a stupid hick moron, but I bet it would be a shock to you too, if you found out your best friend was in love with you and thought of the two of you as some sort of couple without you even having a single clue. Which I guess really does make me a moron.
But really, when you think about it, it explained a lot. Like why Amber never had a boyfriend. Or why she was so happy to drive me around and buy my movie tickets. And drink beer with me in her mom's car. And skip the prom so we could get drunk together and sleep over. And give me back rubs whenever I needed them ... The more I thought about it, the more weirded out I got until I wanted to stop somewhere and wash my hands or something. But as mad as I was at myself for never seeing it, never seeing how she always made jokes about people being gay because of course she was gay herself, I was just as mad that she'd never told me. Because if nothing else, I'd have told her that even though it didn't look like it, I really like guys. Which is why I guess she never told me, because she's not dumb.
Lying in bed that night, I had to laugh out loud. Here I was stupid in love with a boy who'd never even look twice in my direction while my best friend was stupid in love with me. If I didn't laugh, I would have started crying.
There's another thing too, which is probably none of my business and I probably sound really stupid even saying it, but it's something I've been trying to figure out ever since Mom had to explain what those words meant and why there were some people who acted that way and all. But you know how on TV shows the guys who are really into guys go into fashion or hairdressing or dancing or something like that? It seems to me that if you're a guy who really likes guys, you should do something like, well, like football. Because football is as much about guys as anything I could think of. Not counting me, anyway. And the opposite too, that whole thing about tough women being into guy things? Sometimes Amber and I get called names when we play basketball, which I guess is right on the money for one of us at least. But don't you think girls who really liked girls would go for fashion and hairdressing instead? Not basketball. Because I look at the cute girls in our school, the ones with makeup and pink clothes and blow dryers, and I can really see why guys like that. Not that I want to go out with those girls or anything, but I get it. Get it enough to see how I don't measure up. Amber's been my best friend for six years, and I'm sorry but I've never once thought she was hot. Which I guess is part of our whole miscommunication thing.
So anyway, I just wanted to give that huge long speech to explain the look I give people when they say mean stuff about me being on the team. I don't say anything back, of course. But I think to myself that if I was a lesbian I wouldn't be playing football. I'd be working checkout at the Super Saver.