I don't really know what to make of Troy when I open my door and see him standing outside my house. Sure, my heart's in my throat and my pulse shoots through the roof, but he looks different than he did yesterday. First of all, he's got either the beginnings of a black eye, or something got in there, because his left eye is puffy and red, and hanging from his hands are red flowers that look suspiciously like the geraniums that the Tuckers have planted around their mailbox down the street. There are even little bits of dirt still hanging from one of the flowers, which was pulled up by the roots.
Still, despite his strange appearance, it’s Troy, and even with the eye, he’s so handsome it's disturbing. Besides, there is something about the way he’s looking at me, with an intensity and a power that is just irresistible, and I nod. "Okay, one minute. Let me tell my mom that I'm leaving early."
I only half-close the door and run into the living room, where Mom is sitting on the couch. "Your date?"
"Yes, Mom. He says that he got out of practice early, and that he thought it'd be better this way. You know, with school tomorrow and all."
She smiles politely and sips at her after dinner tea. Mom's really into the church, and never even touches alcohol unless she's taking communion. "All right, honey. Be careful, and remember to be a lady."
I roll my eyes. Like I'm going to repeat the mistake she made. She's only thirty-five, having me when she was eighteen because she'd gotten caught up with some guy and gotten pregnant. I’m not going to be that dumb, and even if Mom wouldn't approve, I have a condom in my purse, one handed out by some safe sex advocates at the mall last year when I went shopping with Dani. Better safe than sorry, you know. "I'll be fine, Mom. Besides, Troy's too tired from football practice to get up to anything, you know."
"I know football players, honey. Let's just say I'm glad you're wearing jeans. Have a good time."
I run over and give her a kiss on the cheek and leave the house. I find Troy waiting on the front walk, still looking angry, his eye puffier than ever, with the flowers in his hand. "Here, I picked these for you."
"Mrs. Tucker's going to kick your ass if she sees you with those," I say, taking them and giving them a smell before setting them in a pot on my porch. "Thank you, though. I'll make sure we don't get in trouble for them."
"Well, come on then," Troy says, reaching out and taking my hand. "I hope you like fish."
"Why?" I ask, but Troy doesn't answer, and I let it slide. Instead, we walk back to his car, which I see is older and more beaten up than mine. It has to be from the nineties or earlier. "Nice car."
"Piece of shit is more like it," Troy says, opening the door for me. "Not for long, though."
"Oh? You're getting a new one?" I ask as Troy goes around. He glowers, and I start to feel bad. I mean, I don't know anything about him except that he's built like a Greek god, he's a superstar athlete, and he's tagged every piece of ass from here to California. That's not exactly what I want to talk about on a first date. I try a new tactic. "So what classes do you have this year?"
Troy shrugs and hangs a left toward downtown. "Spanish, Geometry, English . . . normal stuff. Doesn't really matter. I'm on cruise control at Silver Lake. I know what I’ve gotta do for my next step."
"Which is?" I ask. He sounds more confident, and I admit, sexy. I like a man who knows where he's going in life.
"The NCAA. I tear it up on the field, and I've got my ticket punched. My GPA is fine—I can cram in an SAT course or something to get that up enough, and then I'm getting the fuck outta this two-horse town. NCAA, then NFL. Don't really care where there . . . except for Cleveland. I ain't going to Cleveland."
"Why not?" I ask. "Too cold?"
Troy laughs, then he looks over, realizing I’m being serious. "Sorry. No, it's that Cleveland has just about the worst football team in existence. Shit, Detroit's better than they are. You . . . you don't know much about football, do you?"
"Just what I've seen at a few games I've been to for school," I say, kinda blushing. "Dani got me to go a few times. I didn't really get it except that you were trying to get the ball into the end zone."
"Well, that’s better than some girls," Troy says, shaking his head. "Why'd you go out for cheerleading then?"
"Kind of a Dani Vaughn redemption project," I reply, and I’m actually enjoying talking about myself a little for once. "You know, I've been the invisible girl for most of school, and I wanted to do something this year. So, Dani had me start practicing on my own over the summer, and with my new diet, I kinda filled out. Speaking of diet, you said something about fish. Why?"
"The Crab Shack has a good special on baskets," Troy says, all confident again. "I was thinking we could grab two baskets to go and then just go hang out over on Slater's Point. You know, watching the river?"
I frown, and Troy looks over. "What?"
"Uh, my bad. I guess I should have told you. I have a bad shellfish allergy. Like, we go to the Crab Shack, and the next place we go isn't the Point, but County General. Sorry."