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“JON, WHERE ARE WE GOING?” I hugged the sides of the car seat, resisting the urge to tug the blindfold from my eyes.
“You’ll see, babe.”
“I thought we were going to dinner.”
“There’s food there.”
I could almost hear his smirk. When he told me yesterday he had a surprise, I had no idea what he’d had in mind. I also had no idea where we were going, but we were in a parking lot of some kind, based on the speed bumps that he slowed down to glide over.
We finally pulled to a stop and I reached up to remove the tie from my head.
“Uh-uh!” Jon chided me. “Not yet!”
I heard his car door open and then a few second later, the whoosh of warm late summer air as my door did the same. He took my hand and helped me stand. Immediately I could hear a bunch of other voices, some talking in hushed tones and some laughing and screaming loudly. Wherever we were, there was a crowd. With his other hand, Jon took the blindfold off and I blinked at the huge lights that almost blinded me.
“What is this?” I asked, staring at the huge glaring lights all pointed towards a massive green field. All around us, people trudged towards those lights. Most carried half chairs, some were wrapped in blankets. Mothers tugged their toddlers, Father lugged seats and coats, and teenagers huddled in their own close-knit group.
“It’s a football game,” Jon said in my ear, making me jump. He was at the back of the car, pulling a worn blanket from the trunk. “It’s USC, my college, and ... um ... someone.” He blushed, and it was adorable.
“Arizona,” a voice said behind me.
I turned to see my cousin. “Michael,” I said coolly. Why was he always hanging around? I forgot to use my new found American manners. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Nothing else better to do.”
Jon smiled and smoothed back his wavy hair. “Having a hard time dealing with this four-week break before fall semester?”
“Shut up,” Michael shook his head.
I ignored him. “You got me tickets to a football game? Like real American football?”
Jon shrugged. “I saw you looking at the lotta tickets at the mini mart the other night. I thought you might like to see how the college boys do it.”
“Even though you know nothing about football,” I chided him, slipping my arm around his waist.
On the other side of me, Michael sighed and pushed ahead of us. “I’ll see you nerds later,” he mumbled.
“Jesus, what’s his problem?” Jon asked me.
I only had suspicions, so I said instead, “No idea.”
Jon put his arm around my shoulders, hoisting the blankets into his other arm. “I hear they also sell nachos.”
“Nachos!” I exclaimed before I could stop myself.
Jon chuckled. “And hot dogs.”
I shook my head. “France has none of those, either. Mainly sausages.”
“Those are good, too,” Jon said.
We stood in line behind scores of people trying to get in. It looked like people were paying for tickets. Behind the wooden hut, the stadium was filling quickly. The enormously bright halogen lights illuminated the lush green field, but from here I could only see the large white fork, or touchdown line, of the opposing team.
Up ahead, I could see Michael chatting with another girl. She was tall and thin, and the artificial lighting made her skin look orange. Despite the slight chill in the muggy air, she as wearing a short, tight skirt and red tube top. Her long legs ended in wedge sandals that made her appear almost as tall as Michael.
“Whatcha looking at?” Jon nudged me.
“What’s Michael talking to?”
He followed my gaze and shrugged. “Jenny, Jamie, something like that. She was on the cheerleading squad when Michael played.”
“Michael played football?” Why did he never tell me? Not that I’d got the chance.
“Yeah, before I knew him. Left the team to be a pilot.”
“Ah,” I said, because I wasn’t sure why someone would leave a sport that they loved. Did he love it?
“Come on, we’re next,” Jon said, pulling on my arm.
We got our tickets and stopped at the concession stand. The announcer was introducing the teams to the roar of the crowd, and I realized we’d miss the teams coming on the field. I paced one foot to another, Jon’s arm around my waist, as throng of people pushed towards the stadium.
It was more people than I had ever seen in real life. Father, back in France, had never let us go to anything with a lot of people. Too much of a risk, he’d always said.
“It’s okay, we’ll make it,” he said into my ear.
I tried to smile, but it faltered. I clung to our blanket over my arms as people jostled into my back and shoulder pushing me hard again Jon and almost causing me to fall forward. Jon jostled the nachos, a string of long, red licorice, and two sodas while we tried to push through the crowd to find some place to sit. We finally found one at the top of the stadium, squeezing in between a large woman and her three noisy children. She smiled up at us and moved two kids to her lap.
“The first quarter is off to a great start!” She said excitedly.
I looked over at the giant scoreboard on the far field. The neon yellow “14” glowed in a near dark, under the word Home. Next to it, a clock was ticking down and at ten minutes. On the right, under Vistor, the glaring zero.
“Are we losing?” I nearly yelled to Jon.
“We’re home, so no,” he said with a shrug.
“What does fourteen mean?”
“Two touchdowns and two extra points...I think.”
“You think?” I eyed him curiously.
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I’m not much a of a football fan, to be honest.”
“Hey, this seat taken?” I looked up to see Michael, tugging on the hang of the gorgeous blond he was talking to earlier.
“No,” I said, regretting the lady had moved her kids over to make room. I hoped Michael would leave us alone. I knew I was being selfish, but I wanted Jon all to myself, without Michael butting in. Oh well, I told myself, at least he has a date, or whatever she is. Michael sat down next to me, and patted the metal bleacher for his girl.
“USC first down!” A voice blared over the loudspeaker, making me jump.
“What’s that?” I asked Jon.
“It means they made five yards, duh,” the girl on the other side of Michael leaned over.”
“Jamie,” Michael interrupted, “Meet my cousin, Elise. She’s from France. And you already know Jon.”
“Nice to meet you,” I nodded, scooting closer to Jon. I didn’t even bother offering my hand, as they were full with treats. I was being rude, and didn’t really care at the moment.
“Oh! You guys don’t even have football over there huh?” Jamie leaned over Michael to say to me.”
“It’s soccer,” I mumbled. Jon put his arm around me and pulled me even closer as he chewed on the ridiculously long piece of licorice.
“Want some?” He offered it to me.
Before I could respond, one of the players on the field suddenly broke away from the rest. A few people were on their feet around us, while cheers and claps erupted from the crowd.
“Go, go, go! Run that shovel drive!” Michael was on his feet, and so was Jamie.
The player ran straight for the white fork at the end of the field, and the crowd was screaming. He crossed the line and tucked into a tumble, rolling back to his feet and slamming the oblong ball on the ground.
The crowd went crazy then, and I found myself pulling Jon to his feet so we could cheer with them.
“Nice QB hand off,” Michael was saying to Jamie, “Ran right through that gap and into the zone. Touchdown, USC! Yeah, baby!”
“QB?” I asked, even though he wasn’t talking to me.
“I’m gonna use the restroom,” Jamie interrupted and then excused herself to fight through the crowd.
Michael turned to me and blinked, then leaned closer, so I could hear him over the smattering of applause around us and the chattering of all the observers. “You see number forty-seven there? That’s the quarterback. He hands the ball to the running back, sometimes the half back, and he runs the ball to the end zone.”
“Ah,” I said, because I didn’t really know what he was saying, but I nodded like I did.
“Well, depending on the type of play, like drive, cut, zone, power, ISO, trap, sweep, stretch, toss, counter...”
“Jesus,” I muttered, “What’s an RPO?”
“Run pass option,” he said, his voice getting louder, “but they did a clear shovel pass, where they fake pass then shove it to the running back behind the QB.”
What happened to my quiet and sullen cousin? I started wondering. But his excitement was contagious. “So the QB just gets the ball to the running back and he makes the points, then?”
“Yup,” Michael said. His dark eyes were shining. “Oh, kicker’s up. And it’s good!”
I turned my attention back to the game just in time to watch the ball soar through the white metal arms. The crowd went nuts another time. The score board flipped again, showing 21 – 0.
“Wow, that other team is not doing well,” I mused, mostly to myself.
“Well, that’s probably because USC is the better team,” Jon interrupted.
“They were division champs twice when I played,” Michael added.
“What position did you play?” I asked. Jon looked annoyed, but I ignored it.
“Running back, sometimes left tackle.”
“You got to do the scoring!” I exclaimed loudly. The lady next to us looked at me sharply.
Michael laughed. “Ha, I did. It was a blast.”
“Why did you quit?” I asked.
“Yes, tell her why, Mike,” Jon said, suppressing a smile.
Michael shrugged. “I guess I liked flying more.”
“I want to see your plane sometime,” I said softly before I could stop myself. On my other side, Jon was frowning now.
“It’s not my plane,” Michael offered, “I share it with a few vets at the field. Buddies of my... dad.”
I waited. Why did he pause when he said ‘dad’?
Michael shrugged it off. “Jamie’s been gone a while. I’ll go check on her.” He excused himself and pushed through the crowd back towards the bathrooms when we first came in.
“Hey, come here,” Jon said, slipping an arm around me. “Look, they’re on a fourth down.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, leaning into him and looking up at his face.
“I think it means the ball will go to the other team soon.”
“You have no idea, do you?”
He shook his head. “None whatsoever.”
“Didn’t you ever watch a game before?”
“No,” he admitted, “I never really liked it. But you’re having fun, right?”
I watched the player that Michael had said was running the ball, as he got tackled by the other team. “It is fun to watch,” I said finally. I munched thoughtfully on the rest of my nachos.
“Michael never told you the real reason he quit,” Jon said, kissing the top of my head. “I’m surprised.”
“Porquoi? Why?”
Jon frowned. “I...don’t know if he would like me telling you.”
“Well, I can keep secrets, you know,” I promised. More than you know, I thought. A shiver ran down my spine and I fought to keep still in his arms.
“He just got tired of it.”
I sat up. “How could anyone get tired of it?”
“His uncle had him playing since he was a little tyke. Like 4th grade or something. He just gave up, I suppose.”
“But he was good, oui?”
“He was one of the best, he told me once.”
I didn’t know what to say. Why would someone just quit?
You quit, that little voice popped into my head again. You quit France, soccer, and being an Arnolt. Is it really that difficult?
Jon kissed me and pulled me tighter. “Don’t tell him I told you.”
“Cross my heart,” I said, making a sign across my chest. I sat up again and stood. “I’ve got to throw this away and find the little girl’s room.”
Jon blinked at me. “Damn, it’s adorable when you say that.”
“Little girl’s room?”
“Your accent is the hottest thing ever, Elise.”
I smiled at him. “So is yours.”
He looked flustered at that. “I don’t have one.”
“Your sweet Southern drawl, as my father calls it, is foreign to my French ears.”
He grinned widely. “Well, I’ve always hated it, but right now I’m grateful for it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it got me the girl, didn’t it? Now, go pee.”
I gaped at him at such a crude word, but nodded. “I will be back soon.”
It was a struggled to push through the crowd, but I finally made it off the bleachers and to the little concrete buildings for the bathrooms. The line was so long, about twenty people stood outside, both men and women’s. I started to pace. I never drank soda at home, and since coming to the States it always ran right through me.
I was getting desperate.
To the left, a handicapped stall stood slightly ajar. I pushed through it, ignoring the glares from the other woman standing in line. This was an emergency!
“Ow! What the hell!”
In my haste, the door, which was lighter than I thought it would be, flew open, hitting someone in the back.
There was Jamie, sitting on the commode, her skirt around her ankles and her knees spread wide. Michael was blocking a view, thanks God, and his pants were tossed to the floor beside him. It was obvious what I had walked into, and my stomach turned a little.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, quickly pulling the door shut as fast as I could.
“Elise!” Michael turned to me, his mouth gaping open. “Elise, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”
I didn’t answer him, but froze when I realized he was naked from the waist down. Good God, I’d been with my fair share of boys, but Michael was all man. Even more than Jon. My cheeks flushed as I realized I was staring, while Jamie floundered to get her skirt up to her waist, blubbering about being caught. I finally made my legs work and fled as fast as I could, letting the door bang shut behind me, forgetting how bad I needed the bathroom.
The halftime buzzer had sounded by then, and the crowd jostled around me so fast I got turned around. I couldn’t even think, except that guilt twisted in my gut and I felt like I was going to throw up.
Not only had I seen his manhood, but part of me liked it.
Oh, I was fucked up.
“Elise!” I heard Michael behind me, close. I could see the bleachers, but the throngs of men, women, and small children pressed so close I could barely move.
I felt his hand on mine and he jerked me out of the crowd off to the sidelines, behind the bleachers.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” His cheeks were red, his eyes wide. He generally looked terrified.
“Yeah, me too,” I said. I didn’t want to look at him. How could I tell Jon what I’d seen? What would he think?
“Are you going to tell Jon?” Michael said, reading my mind.
“I...” I couldn’t make my voice work. I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
“I don’t know what happened. She was waiting for me, and after Sarah I just...I have needs...”
“Oh, merde,” I swore at him, my head snapping up finally. “At a football game? In a bathroom?”
His eyes searched my face. “Elise, you know how I feel about you.”
“Well, stop.”
“I can’t just...”
“If you felt anything for me, you wouldn’t fuck cheerleaders in the bathroom.”
He opened his mouth to say something, and clearly rethought it. “I’m sorry.” He reached out towards me.
“Stay away from me,” I nearly shouted, backing up against the steel pole of the bleachers behind me. “This is just sick and wrong. You’re my cousin.”
“But I’m not...”
“Elise!” I turned to see Jon and almost collapsed against the bleacher. I ran to him.
“Thank God!” I breathed.
“What’s going on here?” Jon eyed us both. “What did I miss? Where’s Jamie?”
“Nothing,” Michael quipped. “The crowd was just so thick, Elise got lost, and I...”
“Can we go?” I interrupted, looking at Jon.
“But it’s only half time,” Jon frowned. “I thought you...”
“I just want to go. Please.”
“Okay,” Jon said slowly. “We can go.”
“Elise—”
I threw him a look and shook my head. I tucked my hand into Jon’s and let him lead me away from the game and back to our car.
Once we were safely buckled in and back on the highway, Jon asked me what had happened. “Did ya’ll have a fight?”
I shook my head. He was the last person I wanted to talk to about it. “It’s fine.”
“Wanna go get ice cream?”
I closed my eyes and leaned back into the sheet, but I knew I couldn’t ever forget what I had seen.
“I’m sorry he ruined your birthday present,” Jon whispered.
I felt dirtier than ever, and wished I had never gone to the bathroom in the first place. I knew Jon was confused and hurt, but I wasn’t sure what to even say.
“It’s okay,” I managed. “Ice cream sounds great.”
Anything to get this vision out of my head.