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“I’m getting my license tomorrow, or at least I hope I am. Tomorrow is my birthday,” Zack announced during lunch.
I nearly choked on my sandwich when I heard him. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” I asked, annoyed that he hadn’t mentioned it before. I immediately began to figure out how to get him a present before tomorrow without telling my mom why I needed a present unexpectedly.
Megan and Jill smiled and laughed, excited that he would be driving soon.
“I didn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it. I didn’t want my locker decorated or anything crazy. I’m just excited that I finally get to drive,” he smiled. He squeezed my hand and winked at me.
Kris put down her soda and turned to look at him. “Isn’t it a little late in the year for your birthday? What I mean is, shouldn’t you be a senior if you are turning 17? The cutoff for birthdays is usually September. I know because they had to decide if I should start kindergarten or wait until I was a year older,” she said, doing the math in her head.
He shrugged. “I was held back in the third grade, so yeah; I’m supposed to be a senior,” he replied.
The blush on his cheeks made me cringe. I was annoyed because I felt that his father might have been responsible for him being held back a year. I wanted to punch his father until I realized that it might’ve had nothing to do with him. Maybe Zack was just a bad speller at that age.
Megan high-fived him and giggled. “I can’t wait to finally drive. Did you pass your written test yet?” she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.
He nodded. “I took driver’s education last year in my old school and then I took the written test right before we moved. I just have to pass the driving course. My mom is taking me to the DMV before school tomorrow,” he said excitedly.
I bumped his shoulder lightly and smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll pass,” I said confidently.
He kissed the side of my head quickly so that no one else would notice. “My mom has taken me out a few times in her car. She said that if I pass, they are going to get me a really beat up old car,” he laughed. “I’m just happy to be able to drive to the store or the movies by myself.”
I could see how happy he was to gain a little more freedom from his insane life. I was excited for him, though my stomach was in knots. I was afraid of how he would react to what I needed to tell him.
When we stood up at the sound of the bell, I tugged on his shirt. The creases had long faded from his pale-blue-collared shirt.
“I need to talk to you tonight. Meet me in the woods, okay?” I asked hesitantly. I was hoping that he would tell me that he had plans and that he couldn’t meet me so that I could stall for one more night.
“Sure. I need to talk to you too,” he winked.
––––––––
I paced through the dim woods, shivering in the chilly air. The moon was out tonight and I could hear the stream babbling loudly after the recent rainstorm. I wanted to run home and undo everything I had done. What made me think that I could ruin both of our lives like this? Why had I snuck around behind Zack’s back and videotaped his pissed-off father without asking Zack for permission? I was selfish and stupid. My uncle’s words haunted me. “I hope that the evil gene skipped a generation.” I was being evil to Zack by keeping him in the dark. I was afraid of what he would say or do. I was more afraid of what would happen if someone saw his tape.
Part of me wanted my tape to be seen. I wanted to expose Phil, but the rest of me feared my mom’s reaction. I didn’t know what she would do if faced with the truth, unable to ignore it.
Sitting down on my log, I realized that I had no idea what I would do if my secret got out. I had no clue what I would say or how I would defend myself. My mother would never look at me again and Phil might very well try to kill me.
Tears rolled down my face at my stupidity. I had never been so afraid in all my life, not even the first night that Phil had touched me. Regret filled my chest and I couldn’t breathe. My jaw felt like it was locking up again and I felt my neck tingle. Oh God, I couldn’t go through one of those episodes again, not alone. I was so afraid of what would happen if I couldn’t get it under control.
“You’re here,” I heard Zack say, though I was so fixated on my attack that I hadn’t heard him walking through the woods. I turned and saw his beautiful face in the light of the rising moon. I wanted to remember the relieved expression on his face, until I saw that there was a small bruise under his left eye.
“Please don’t tell me that you were hit in the eye during football practice,” I said more harshly than intended. My panic immediately shifted gears until it became unbridled rage.
He hung his head and sighed. “He preemptively warned me about crashing my car if I get my license tomorrow. Apparently, I’m too stupid not to get into an accident and he wanted to give me a taste of what will happen when I crash the car,” he said, his voice thick with humiliation.
I shook my head and wanted to kick something. “That’s crap. You’re responsible and smart and he’s too stupid to see that,” I said, grabbing my hair and tugging on it in frustration.
Zack touched my hand and pried my fingers open so that I was forced to release my hair. “I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said softly. He intertwined his fingers with mine and squeezed my hand.
“I’m just so angry. It shouldn’t be like this,” I said, wishing I could shout it from the rooftops.
“I’m angry too, but I’ve learned that I can’t fight back. It just makes things worse,” he said, trying to make me understand his dilemma.
I nodded. I debated if I should bring up the tapes the night before his driver’s test. I didn’t want him distracted and failing. This was the one bright moment in his life right now and I didn’t want to screw it up for him.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, tugging on my arm so that I would look at him.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about your father right now. Please, tell me what you wanted to say,” I said, thankful for the subject change since I was chickening out of my prepared speech.
He looked down at me and smiled. “You look amazing in this light. Not that you don’t normally look amazing, but there’s something about the moonlight on your cheeks that’s scrambling my brain,” he said, lightly touching my face with his fingertips.
I forgot about all of my problems when he touched me. I relaxed into his hand and wished that we didn’t have to hide how we felt about each other.
“Is that why you dragged me out into the freezing night? You wanted to see my face in the moonlight?” I asked playfully.
He chuckled. “I wanted to ask you if you would be my girlfriend. I know that we haven’t been on an official date and that you aren’t exactly allowed to date, but I think kissing you in the woods and going with you to the dance should at least count toward some kind of relationship status,” he said hesitantly.
I smiled at the title of girlfriend as my heart sputtered a few times. My panic attack had completely receded and I was free to gaze into his sparkling blue eyes and pretend to be normal.
I was about to say, “yes, yes for the love of all that is holy, yes I will be your girlfriend,” but I couldn’t. I couldn’t say it until he knew what I had done.
“You may not want me to be your girlfriend once you know what I did,” I replied as bile rose up inside my chest.
He frowned. “Did you secretly start dating someone else in school that I don’t know about? Do you suddenly like girls?” he asked jokingly.
“I did something stupid, though I did it for the right reason. You will probably hate me, since I hate myself, but you need to know,” I said bluntly.
He still had my hand in his, but his shoulders stiffened as he prepared himself for what I was going to say. “What happened?” he whispered.
I bit my lip and my closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the look of disappointment or anger on his face. “I videotaped your father’s attacks for the past week. I needed proof of what was happening to you. I also secretly videotaped Phil and what he does to me. I gave the tapes to people who I trust to hold them. They don’t know what’s on the tapes, but they promised to keep them safe. I need them as leverage to make the nightmares end. Seeing your face tonight just proves that you need to get away from your father.
The other day, you asked me what was wrong, the day I tried to walk away from you. He trapped me in the car and threatened to throw me out of the house because he was afraid that I had told my aunt about him. He also accused me of asking my aunt to take me to my supposed boyfriend’s house to have sex with him. As I said before, he’s crazy.
He threw my travel bag into the car and said that he was taking me to the bus station. He was swerving and driving like a lunatic. He said that I wasn’t allowed to see my friends anymore and that I wasn’t allowed to participate in any after school activities. Then he said that I wasn’t allowed to leave the state to go to college. He cornered me from every direction and he took away my hope. After that, I had some kind of reaction. I think it was a panic attack or something equally bad. I couldn’t breathe, I could only scream and cry. He freaked out so badly that he started to backpedal. Thankfully, the episode ended and I could breathe again. My mother almost called the cops on him for taking me away, but he calmed her down. That’s why I told you that I’d had enough. He’s endangering me in every way possible. My mental sanity is on the verge of cracking,” I said, my body shaking. I lost control of my tears and began to sob.
Zack stared at me, but he didn’t interrupt. He let go of my hand and paced through the woods. I could see that he was struggling with what I said, but I wasn’t sure which part shocked him more, my betrayal of his trust or the reason for my mental breakdown. I prayed that he would forgive me for planning to ruin his life.
It seemed like an eternity as he processed my confession. He ran his hands through his hair and wiped his face a few times. He looked like he wanted to punch a tree or kick the log, but he restrained himself.
When I was about to lose hope and retreat back to my bedroom to find a way to accept that I had destroyed our-almost relationship, he spun around and threw his arms around me. I thought for a second that he was going to strangle me or pick me up and throw me. Instead, he buried his face in my neck and cried. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking or feeling, but I held him. I stroked his hair and comforted him, even if he didn’t want to be comforted.
Sniffling, he pulled his face back and looked at me. Without warning, he leaned in and kissed me. This kiss was different from our previous kisses. It wasn’t sweet and innocent. It was filled with passion and desperation. My entire body exploded into a million pieces and I felt like I was on fire. My knees almost gave out, but Zack held on to me.
I kissed him back with everything I was feeling. If this was meant to be our goodbye kiss, then I wanted to make it memorable. His tongue moved against my lip until I opened my mouth. I enjoyed this kiss and felt like I was a part of what was happening. I no longer felt wooden like a statue. I was excited to know that I could feel passion with someone that I cared about.
Breaking the kiss, he leaned back and looked at my lips and then my eyes. “I love you,” he whispered before he lightly pressed his lips against mine and nuzzled my nose.
I was lightheaded from the kiss, so I wasn’t sure if he had said that he loved me or loathed me. I needed clarification before I hired the skywriter and celebrated with balloons.
I had to catch my breath before I could form complete sentences. “You did say that you loved me, right? My head is swimming right now, and I need to know that I heard you correctly,” I said, placing my hand on his cheek.
He laughed and kissed the tip of my nose. “Yes, you silly girl. I told my girlfriend that I loved her,” he chuckled.
I nodded, still trying to form a cohesive sentence. “You do realize what I’ve done, right? I’ve put both of us in jeopardy. I’ve potentially exposed your alcoholic father to the world. I have no idea what will happen to you if someone watches those tapes. Why aren’t you mad at me?” I asked, confused by his acceptance of my flawed plan.
He pushed a few wayward strands of my hair behind my ear. “I understand what you did. I have one year left before I turn eighteen and can find a way to escape. I would rather live anywhere but here for the next year. I don’t care where I end up, but I’m hoping that my uncle will take me in. I’ve never had the courage to ask him for help. If this whole thing blows up in my father’s face, then I have a better chance of getting my uncle to help me. You have proof of what he’s doing. I can threaten him now. I can tell him to go to rehab or I’ll expose the truth. You’ve given me the best birthday present anyone has ever given me,” he smiled, though his face shifted into a grimace. “I’m more afraid for you. From what you and Megan have told me about Phil, he definitely sounds like a psycho. I want you far away from him. I’ll help you in any way that I can, but I understand how impossible the situation is. I keep trying to figure out how to help you. If the kids at school find out that my father hits me, I’ll get more sympathy than snide comments. If the others find out about what Phil does to you, it won’t be easy. Some of them might accuse you of being the one who initiated it. They have no idea what you’re going through because they can’t even comprehend what it’s like to live as you have. They might attack you because they’ve never been taught the right way to help someone in your situation. It kills me that they might mock you for being sexually abused.”
For the second time tonight, my head was swimming. He had been trying to find a way to help me. I leaned my head against his coarse coat and hugged him.
“Thank you for understanding,” I whispered.
He kissed the top of my head and gently laid his cheek against my forehead. “You are the bravest person I have ever met. I’m not mad at you. You are the first person who has ever really tried to help me. I know that things could get really ugly, but I don’t blame you for any of this. I blame my father and my mother. I blame my other relatives who ignored the warning signs. I blame the cops who let my father go despite seeing the bruises on my arms and legs over the years. They always believed my father when he said that he would get help. They always listened to my mother when she said that she would protect me and help my father get treatment,” he said, holding me against him.
I could hear the resentment and disappointment in his voice. I was still trying to comprehend that he wasn’t angry with me, as I had anticipated.
“Thank you for not hating me,” I said as I stared up at the night sky, afraid of the future. I felt that I could face whatever was coming as long as Zack was with me.
“Thank you for trying to rescue me. I picked a good wingman,” he chuckled.
“I love you too,” I said, my voice wavering. I wanted to cry happy tears for once in my life. No matter what happened, we were together.
––––––––
“Please tell me that you can go to the game this weekend. It’s the last game of the season before the playoffs. We have no chance of making it through the playoffs, but we always celebrate the last game since it could be the last,” Megan laughed as she leaned against my locker.
I was anxiously waiting for Zack, as I did every morning. I needed to see his face. During the past two weeks, we had made a pact that we would assess each other’s mood and create a damage report of anything that had happened during the previous night. It was our way of dealing with the stress of our turbulent lives. Zack’s house had been mostly quiet ever since he passed his driver’s test and spent as much time away from home as possible. I wasn’t sure why I was holding my breath this morning, but I understood how unpredictable our lives were. One wrong word, one wrong phrase could send his father into a rage.
“I might be able to go. Phil is visiting his family on Saturday. We were supposed to go with him, but my mom concocted a movie date with one of her best friends, so now I get to stay home alone,” I said, still searching for Zack.
Megan grabbed my arm a little too hard and I flinched. “Sorry,” she said when she saw my reaction. “I’m just excited that you get a night to yourself. I’m sure that my mom can give you a ride. This year they’re having a bonfire to celebrate our losing streak,” she laughed.
I nodded absently when I saw Zack’s scruffy hair through the sea of people in the hallway. He desperately needed a haircut.
“Sounds like fun,” I shrugged.
She moved to hug me but thought better of it when I raised my eyebrow at her and silently asked what she thought she was doing. I had proven over the years that I wasn’t a hugger, except when it came to Zack. Instead, she clasped her hands in front of her and smiled.
When Zack saw me, he smiled and nodded. It meant that he was okay. Letting out the breath I’d been holding, I relaxed and turned to Megan. “I’ll find a way to make it to the game,” I smiled.
She laughed and cheered. “Good. Make sure you dress warmly; it’s usually cold at the night games. We’ll bring blankets. My mom usually sends me with snacks and they sell hot chocolate at the game,” she explained since I had never been to a game before, despite secretly dating the backup quarterback on the team. Technically, he had been moved up to starting quarterback a few games ago when John, the actual quarterback, twisted his ankle during practice.
“Got it. I will wear extra socks,” I grinned.
I waited for Zack to put away his books and walk across the hallway to greet me.
“Morning,” he smiled. The sparkle was extra bright today, which meant that he was thinking about something good.
“Morning,” I replied. Though we made it a rule not to kiss in the middle of the hallway, like some other couples, the stupid grin on his face implied that he wanted to kiss me.
“I’m going to try to come to the last game of the season. Megan wrangled me into coming,” I said, hoping that it was okay for me to be at his game. We had never discussed whether or not he would be nervous or distracted if I went. He hadn’t bothered to invite me to a game because it would raise too many questions.
His grin got even bigger. “Seriously? You’re going to come?” he asked excitedly.
I shrugged. “I said I would try, as long as you’re okay with it. I don’t want to mess up your groove,” I chuckled.
He shook his head. “My groove will be fine. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to talk to you during the game, but just knowing that you’re there cheering for me will help. I might be able to talk to you afterwards. I heard something about a bonfire that we’re supposed to give speeches at. I’m confused by the whole thing, but I promised to participate,” he said, laughing at his cluelessness.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something amazing to say,” I said supportively.
His grin faded when he looked into my eyes. “I wish I could drive you home from the game,” he said, taking my hand into his.
I sighed and made a snap decision. “I’ll need a ride anyway. No one will be home,” I said shyly. For some reason, the thought of being alone in a car with him made me nervous, though in a good way. It was something normal couples did and I liked the idea of having a few normal minutes to enjoy my life.
His mouth fell open and he blinked a few times. “Really? I can take you home?”
I nodded, unable to speak. His excitement made my heart race and I was a little dizzy.
The happiness on his face was exhilarating. I wanted to bounce up and down like Megan did when she was thrilled about something, but I stood my ground. It was a minor victory, but I would take it.
It was easier than I thought to get permission for the football game. I waited until Phil had left early Saturday morning before I sprung the question on my mom. She was happy that I was finally taking an interest in some kind of social activity since she believed that it was my lack of enthusiasm for school and sports that kept me home every night.
“I’ll be home late. I’ll leave something in the fridge for you to heat up for dinner. Make sure you wash the plates before you leave; otherwise, I will never hear the end of how irresponsible you are for leaving dirty dishes in the sink,” she said, rolling eyes at Phil’s rules.
I nodded. “There’s a bonfire afterward, and I don’t know how long that will last, but I promise to come home once it’s over. I know Megan wants to stick around for it,” I explained, hoping that it wouldn’t be a problem.
My mom patted my arm. “I know you are responsible. You’ll be driving next year and I trust that you will make the right decisions. I don’t care what Phil says, you need to have a life of your own. I know that he wants to protect you and make sure that you’re safe, but you have to agree that he goes overboard at times,” she said, folding the last of the laundry on her bed.
I had to bite my tongue so that I didn’t say something I would regret. Overboard was putting it mildly, but I couldn’t correct her.
I picked up the pile of folded towels and followed her to the linen closet in the hallway.
“Don’t you ever get tired of living by his rules? Half of them don’t even make any sense. I still don’t understand why you are expected to have the house clean by noon on a Saturday and why the grass has to be mowed by sundown the same night. Why can’t there be one cup in the sink? Why can’t we have leftovers or the same meal twice in a week? Don’t you think that this stuff is crazy? The other day I had to knock all the soup cans over because I couldn’t stand seeing them perfectly lined up with the labels facing outward. Doesn’t it drive you insane that you have to achieve perfection on his timetable?” I asked frustrated with how Phil had taken control of the way we lived our lives, especially since we never lived like this when it was just the two of us.
She paused with her arm frozen in the air as she was putting away the light blue towels. The frown on her face spoke volumes. She looked older in that moment than I had ever seen her.
“We have a good life here. He pays the bills and we have a nice house to live in. Yes, his expectations are unrealistic at times and I hate having to wake up early to do laundry on a Saturday morning instead of sleeping in, but that’s what he expects,” she shrugged, though I could hear the bitterness in her voice.
I quietly handed her the next batch of towels and stared at the ground. There was no way to win this argument because she believed she had to become Cinderella and cook and clean to pay for our room and board.
She turned and quickly changed the subject. “Did anyone ask you to the game?” she smiled slyly.
I quirked my mouth at her subtle attempt of asking me if I had a date. “Does Megan count?” I asked innocently.
Her face fell and she shook her head. “Are you sure that there aren’t any boys who have taken an interest in you? Have you tried to talk to them in class?” she asked as she cleverly slipped in a piece of advice.
I wanted to laugh at her eagerness in finding me a boyfriend. The sad part was that I wanted to talk about Zack. I knew that she would like him, though I had no idea how she would react to his situation. I frowned when I thought about her telling me to stay out of Zack’s problems and to find a more stable boyfriend. I worried what she would say if she found out about my attempts to help him.
“I’m quiet at school. I sit in class, write my notes, and wait patiently for the day to end. If it weren’t for Megan, Kris, and Jill, I probably wouldn’t talk to anyone,” I sighed.
The pain on my mother’s face shocked me. I could see her complete and utter lack of understanding of my situation cloud her face. She had no idea why I refused to engage with people. I wanted to scream the reason into her face, but instead I turned and ran downstairs to get away from her judgement of me.
Standing in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. It bothered me that my mother would think I was strange or peculiar for not wanting to let people into my life. Seeing the hollow look in my eyes, I wondered what she really thought of me, not that it mattered. She could never understand. Even if she hated me once she learned the truth, I had to escape from this life.
––––––––
A cheer went up in the stands across from us when the visiting team scored a touchdown. I knew enough about football to understand how to score points and who the quarterback was. Beyond that, I had Megan’s interpretation of the plays to help me comprehend the game.
“That was a late hit. The ref should have called something,” Megan groused in my ear.
I laughed at her blatant frustration over the ref’s inability to see straight in the dark. I grabbed a handful of popcorn and crunched loudly enough that it drowned out her complaints.
Jill rubbed her hands together and blew into them. “I can’t believe how cold it is. The weatherman was wrong about this one,” she said from Megan’s other side.
I nodded and rubbed my hands together as Megan shouted that the ref needed glasses. I was partially embarrassed by Megan’s rant, but happy to be part of something normal. I looked around at all the fans chatting and drinking their hot beverages. They were having fun, despite the fact that we were six points behind at the beginning of the fourth quarter.
I had spent most of the game watching Zack. I was amazed to see how fast and agile he was on the field. It was like all his doubts and anxieties disappeared the second his foot stepped out onto the green field. He was more confident than I had ever seen him. This was a different version of him, a third version compared to his reserved persona at school and the version of him that told me he loved me in the woods. Football Zack watched the entire field like a hawk. He knew where every player would be the second the football was moved off the line. It was obvious that he was a better player than most of the others on his team. The quarterback on the opposing team from St. Mary’s was impressive, but Zack had a better understanding of the game.
I wondered why his parents had sent him to our school given our dismal football record, until Megan mentioned something about Zack outshining everyone. Maybe being the best player, even on a losing team, counted for something.
Opening my pack of M&Ms, I almost threw them when a huge player tackled Zack. Everyone was mad that Zack had been sacked, but I was more worried about his spine. It occurred to me that maybe his father insisted on him playing to hide all his injuries, though I refused to accept that as a valid reason.
Everyone held their breath during the next play. When the ball was snapped, Zack cleverly outmaneuvered the oncoming giants trying to grab him and spun his left. Cheers spread across our side of the bleachers when the ball soared over everyone’s head and landed in the hands of the receiver, Andrew Caldwell. Andrew dove into the end zone and scored.
Megan bumped my shoulder. “Your boyfriend just tied the game,” she smiled at me. “Now Kyle just has to freaking kick straight and we might actually win this thing. I can’t imagine actually making it into the playoffs, but it would be awesome.” She pulled the blanket around her legs and clapped madly for the touchdown.
Luckily, the game slowed down after the extra point when the other team seemed to run out of steam. Our side collectively counted down the clock until the whistle blew, signifying the end of the game. The whoops and hollers that followed where loud enough to make me cover my ears. I laughed and cheered along with them, excited for the win. Megan had to be restrained by Jill before she accidently fell into the people standing below us. It was a spectacular moment to be a part of and I was grateful to be there.
The opposing fans slowly filtered out of the bleachers and exited the small field. The rest of us made our way down to the field to celebrate. Megan was beyond words as she spoke to random strangers and celebrated our win, as if she had personally scored the winning goal.
We stood around as they cleared the field and everyone made their way over to the patch of grass between the parking lot and the field where the wooden logs were standing in a cone-shaped pattern, waiting to be lit.
I had never been to an event like this before. The energy was overwhelming and everyone was happy and proud of our team. I couldn’t get over some of the fans who had painted their faces or worn colorful T-shirts to show their support. It was surreal and yet invigorating. I couldn’t help but smile and join in the celebration.
“I like seeing you smile,” said the only voice I wanted to hear so close to my ear.
I turned and found Zack wearing jeans and his blue and white varsity jacket. He only wore it during pep rallies and on game days, but today it suited the occasion.
I threw my arms around his shoulders and congratulated him. “My understanding of football is dismal, but I believe that you won the game,” I giggled.
He chuckled and pointed to the other members of the team who were crowding around the logs to his right. “They had a little to do with our win, but I think I helped a bit,” he said modestly as he winked at me.
“Never let it be said that you have an ego problem,” I said, releasing him lest some nosey parent interpret our simple hug as something more. I didn’t need someone ratting me out.
He nodded and smiled at me. He looked down at my hand as if he wanted to hold it, but I placed them behind my back and gave him a slight headshake. He looked sad, but he knew why I was hesitant.
“I need to come up with that amazing speech now,” he grimaced. He looked over his shoulder at his coach, who was motioning for him to join the team.
“Tell them how happy you are that they accepted you on to the team and how it feels like a family or something. Then shout, St. Theresa’s High School football team rules, and follow it up with a ‘Go Tigers’!” I suggested.
He seemed to appreciate my suggestion as he laughed at my motivational speech skills. He waved at me and trotted over to the rest of the team.
“They looked so good in their uniforms. Why did they make them change into jeans?” Megan pouted when she returned from getting a hot chocolate.
“Probably because it’s freaking cold out here,” I chuckled.
“Bah. Who cares about the cold when there are hot boys in uniforms?” she snickered.
I raised my eyebrow at her statement and laughed at her. Though it was true that Zack looked really good in his uniform, which made me want to come to more games in the future, I wanted him to be comfortable.
The bonfire took a little effort to light, but it was an awe-inspiring sight. The flames soared into the air and we were forced to take a few steps back due to the overwhelming heat.
Once everyone settled down, the coach launched into an enthusiastic speech about how tough the season had been, but was proud of his guys for pulling it out in the end. He then thanked everyone for their support and pointed to the key players as they took turns talking about the season.
When it was Zack’s turn, he looked right at me and winked. The firelight made him look like a model or a forgotten god. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. He appeared nervous, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he was in control of his jitters.
“I started the school year late and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to play. I was so happy when the team agreed to give me a spot and encouraged me to play my best. It’s hard starting a new school and stepping out onto the field with a new team. You have to prove yourself and earn everyone’s trust. I want to thank everyone for giving me a chance to play and for supporting me. This team is a family and I’m proud to be a part of it. I hope that we can shine during the playoffs and bring home the win, but either way, I’m excited to be a part of something larger. Congratulations to everyone tonight! Go Tigers!” he shouted, throwing an air punch at the end.
The parents and students huddled together in front of the warm fire and cheered and clapped for Zack and the team. His teammates patted him on the back and his coach actually teared up a little. This was Zack’s time to shine and I was proud of him. I couldn’t understand why he hated playing when I saw the joy he felt during his speech.
On some level, it made me sad because no one really knew Zack. This was the version that pretended his life was okay. This was the person he wanted everyone to remember long after the game was over and we graduated. Perhaps that was the reason he hated playing. He had to pretend to be someone else to feel like he was a part of something greater.
Everyone stood around and told stories about previous wins and losses. They talked about the players from years past and pointed to some of the alumni who had once played on this very field. The atmosphere was intoxicating and I enjoyed hearing about the glory days, as they put it.
About a half an hour into the celebration, a light drizzle began coming down from the cloud-covered skies. The raindrops hit the fire and made little puffs of steam fly up into the air. The excitement died down when the rain came down harder and people started to head home. The players all congratulated each other one last time and walked toward the parking lot or found their families. Zack walked straight over to me.
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Megan asked, looking out toward the parking lot for her mom’s minivan. She put her blanket over her head and wiped the rain off her face.
“Zack’s taking me home,” I smiled, pulling my hood up.
Megan winked at me. “I’ll tell my mom that your mom picked you up.”
I thanked her for covering for me and said goodbye to Jill.
“Ready?” Zack asked when he was close enough. He was huddled inside his jacket, trying to keep the rain from dripping down his back.
My throat tightened and I nodded. My hands started shaking and I mentally yelled at them to stop. This was a normal thing to do. I’d been alone with Zack plenty of times. This was no different just because I was breaking a millions rules by getting into a car with a boy.
I trailed behind him, still afraid to be noticed by a parent who wanted to know why the MVP of the game was dating a nobody like me. I pulled my hood tighter around my face, grateful for the reason to hide inside my coat.
When we reached his tan Accord, my hands were sweating and I was looking around the parking lot for signs of trained snipers in the trees. The odds of Phil hiring someone to follow me seemed high as I pulled the car door open.
The smell of strawberry air freshener and cigarette smoke assaulted me instantly. I slid into the front seat and looked around the well-worn interior. The only item in the car was Zack’s book bag. The rest of his stuff had been tossed into his trunk.
The car shifted under his weight when he sat down. He closed the door and the dark filtered in as the dome light dimmed until it faded completely. I couldn’t look at Zack. I was feeling claustrophobic and slightly nauseous.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked, reaching to put the key in the ignition.
I nodded and stared out the passenger window.
I felt his warm hand on top of my freezing hands. His fingers laced through mine and I finally looked up at him. His smile was blinding even in the dim parking lot lights.
“It was a unique experience. I had no idea that Megan was such a huge fan. I knew she liked football, but she had some seriously harsh criticism for the referee,” I said, keeping the subject light. Staring into his eyes, I was starting to lose all sense of time and space. My mouth watered and all I could think about was closing the gap between us and kissing him.
“I liked having you in the stands watching me, though I wish I could have talked to you and spent more time with you. As hard as everything is to deal with, being apart from you is the hardest thing of all,” he sighed. He carefully pulled my hair behind my ear so that we could see each other better.
“It’s hard for me too,” I sighed.
He started to lean forward but suddenly sat back and turned on the car. He glanced around as if he was making sure that no one was watching us. He too must have remembered that there were still a lot of parents around.
The car turned on and it rattled a little before settling into a dull hum. “God, this car needs to be put out of its misery. I pray it turns on every time I try to start it. I’m happy to have it, but we need to come to an understanding. As long as it works, I won’t have to take it out back and shoot it,” he said mockingly as he rubbed his hand along the tan dashboard.
I laughed and patted the dashboard as well. “It needs a name.”
He nodded thoughtfully and rubbed his chin dramatically. “Boris,” he stated.
“Boris?” I asked, incredulously.
“No? Okay, how about Chester?” he chuckled.
I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “You are terrible at this. Since you seem to believe that this car is a boy, I’m going to call him Edgar,” I replied. I patted the console and smiled.
He burst out laughing and held his sides. “Well, if you insist, then I guess his name should be Edgar.” He ran his hands over the steering wheel and settled into the seat. “Nice to meet you, Edgar. It’s time to take my beautiful girlfriend home, so please don’t die in the middle of an intersection.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he spoke to Edgar. He sounded like they were old roommates who fought a lot.
The windshield wipers groaned as they smeared the rain, making everything blurry. I wondered how he could see anything.
We finally pulled out of the parking space and lined up in the small row of cars leaving the parking lot. I had never driven with someone younger than my aunt. I felt like a backseat driver and constantly looked over his shoulder to make sure there weren’t any cars coming. I wanted to tell him to be careful, but I folded my hands in my lap and hoped that he was a good driver.
Pulling out into the street, I was surprised by how smooth the turn was, despite the squealing noise coming from the steering wheel. “Does it always sound like that?”
“Yes. Now you understand why I spoke that way to Edgar,” he grinned.
I settled into the seat and watched the lights slowly move across the windshield. We didn’t live far from school, so I only had a little time alone with him. My nerves had died down during our car naming ceremony and I felt better.
“I really liked your speech. I think you nailed it. I still don’t understand why you don’t like to play football. You seem at ease with the players and you are a natural on the field. I’m not just saying this, but you played better than most of the others guys. You had a flow or something, which surpassed everyone else. I’m not explaining it right, but it’s like you were dancing to a different song than everyone else,” I said, trying to convey my jumbled thoughts.
He glanced at me and the corner of his mouth curled up. “I like that analogy. I was dancing to a different song than everyone. Coach says that I see the plays in my head and can anticipate where everyone else will be, but I think you say it better,” he said, admiring my choice of words. “To tell you the truth, I do like to play, but I don’t like being judged solely on my performance on the field. I’m more than just football. I like writing short stories and I wanted to try out for the literary magazine, but football gets in the way. Even during the off-season, my dad makes me train in the local gym and work with a trainer to keep me limber. I don’t have time for other things. That’s why I hang out in the woods. I did the same thing at my old house. It’s the only time I get to be myself,” he explained as he turned onto the road leading to my street.
I played with my fingernail and listened to him talk about what he loved about playing football and what he hated. He liked memorizing the plays and coming up with interesting ways of moving the ball across the field. He hated being tackled, but then again, so did most guys. He also hated being yelled at by his father when they lost a game.
“Why wasn’t your dad at the game tonight?” I asked loudly, having to talk over the squeaking wipers. The mist and drizzle had turned into big fat raindrops.
“He had to work late. He was mad that he was going to miss the game, but he actually wished me luck. It really pisses me off that he only says nice things to me when I’m excelling on the field. It doesn’t matter if we win or lose; he takes it personally when I don’t play my hardest. There’s a lot of pressure on me to be the best. That’s probably the biggest downside,” he sighed.
I nodded and wondered what it would be like to have that kind of pressure on me. I was consistently on the Honor Roll and eligible for the National Honor Society, so I wasn’t really pressured to succeed. It was expected of me, but no one gave me a hard time about it. I pushed myself.
“I wish you were able to play because you loved the game, not because you were being forced to,” I said softly.
He grunted and focused on turning down my road. Sadly, our trip was nearly at an end. He pulled in front of my house and put the car in park. He turned in his seat and smiled at me. “Home safely,” he smiled.
I applauded his driving skills and tipped my head to him. He leaned over and kissed me quickly before sitting up and composing himself. He was gripping the wheel more tightly than before.
“Are you okay?” I asked, motioning to his ten and two position.
“Yeah. I know you have to go home, so I’m being good,” he said firmly, as if it were a mantra of sorts.
“You were nervous about bringing me home too, weren’t you? It’s strange being alone together in the car, even though we’ve been alone before, isn’t it?” I chuckled.
He nodded and let out a breath. “It’s definitely different in the car, yes. Tonight I feel like a couple, you know? You were there cheering for me and watching me give my speech. I didn’t feel alone for once. I feel like you’re finally my girlfriend. I know that sounds weird, but I think you understand,” he shrugged awkwardly.
“I do understand. It feels almost like a real date,” I said, trying to fill in the gaps of his explanation.
“Exactly. I know we didn’t talk about it, but I had a girl that I went out with two or three times. She was like Heather. I wasn’t the first guy that she had dated and I guess she was used to aggressive dates. She shoved her tongue down my throat during the basketball game she had begged me to go to with her. I went along with it, but it was weird since I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. That’s why I was upset about you and Mitch. I knew how it felt to kiss someone you weren’t sure if you liked. That and I wanted to punch Mitch for giving you a bad kissing experience,” he said in a low growl.
“You more than made up for my bad experience,” I laughed.
He smiled and winked at me. “I’m glad. The problem is, we’re sitting in my car, having a good time, and I want more than anything to kiss you and hold you. I know you don’t think highly of yourself, but I think you’re pretty and an amazing kisser. So, I’m holding the steering wheel to remind myself that you have to go inside,” he sighed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hoping that he wasn’t mad at me for my strange situation.
“I’m not upset, Alicia, I just wish things were different. You should get inside. It’s getting late,” he said, pulling back his sleeve to check the time.
I put my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze to thank him for his patience and understanding. I pulled on the ancient door handle, which took a little more effort than expected, and I pushed the door open with my foot. A set of car lights temporarily blinded me as I slid to the end of the seat and put my feet on the curb to stand. I froze when I saw the car pull into my driveway. Regrettably, it wasn’t my mom’s car. It was Phil’s other mode of transportation, his tacky blue truck.
