"What do you mean?" Troy asks, confused. "What's wrong with jokes?"
I shrug and pick up a fry, sticking it in my mouth. "I guess I've gotten tired of being teased, that's all. It's hard to talk to people when you know that if you tell them how you really see things or how you feel, you're going to get teased. But . . . that's for another time, maybe. Tell me about your day."
"Well, football went like shit today," Troy starts, closing his eyes. He kind of half turns away from me and looks out over the river, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging. "If I keep playing like practice today, that idea of an easy scholarship isn't going to be coming my way. Hell, if I keep going like today, I won't even be starting by Homecoming."
"Everyone has bad practices," I say, scooting over next to him. For some reason, I put my hand on his leg, then kind of wrap my arm through his and take his hand. "I mean, I don't know football, you know, but nobody can be perfect all the time, right?"
Troy nods and opens his eyes, looking out at the river. "I have to be. At least on the field—I need to be. If I'm going to get out of this town, away from . . .”
"Away from what?" I ask. "Because I know this town isn't all that bad. We're not San Francisco or Seattle or anything, but it could be a lot worse."
Troy swallows and looks down again. "Just . . . home life's tough, you know? The eye . . . that isn't from football."
I gasp, moved. I mean, Mom's strict on the church side of things, and sometimes it’s strange having a mom who is younger than all of your teachers and gets confused for your older sister when she goes shopping with me, but Mom loves me. When she has gotten boyfriends, she's always put me first, which has cost her a few of the guys, but we both agree that we’re a package deal, at least until I head off to college. Most of all, Mom never lays a hand on me. "Troy . . . why don't you tell someone?"
"Like what? 'Hey, I'm a total worthless shit who has a drunk for a father and no mother, since she abandoned me to that asshole when I was three, and the only hope I've got of not going down the same path is to get into the NFL.’ I'd get laughed right out of school."
I'm shocked to see Troy, who I'd never even imagined would be insecure, at least based on what Dani told me at lunch today. He hangs his head, then laughs bitterly once before looking at me again. "Hell of a first date, isn't it?"
I smile and lean my head on his shoulder and give his hand a squeeze. "I could think of worse. All day, I figured you'd bring me here or to some other place, where you'd try and talk your way into my pants. In case you don't know, the girls on the cheer squad know about what you and your buddies were doing in the stands yesterday. Dani filled me in on it. I guess I've been more innocent than I knew."
Troy chuckles and we relax, just watching the river roll by. "Can I be honest? When I asked you out yesterday, I had the same idea as the other guys. The way they reacted when you started practice . . . you damn near caused a scene, and a fight between the guys—me included. A lot of them saw you as something like that McFlurry that we've got melting here. A little bite of dessert."
"And you?" I ask, not offended, but for some reason, I just want to know.
"I think . . . well, let me put it this way, and sorry if it takes a while. After fucking up at practice so much today, I apologized to the guys for screwing up. I've never done that before, and like you said, I thought I'd get jeered for it. Instead, a couple of the guys really stuck up for me, and I thought a lot about what Coach keeps telling us. Own it. Own your fuckups and your victories both. So I'm not going to lie. You're hot as hell, and you can't teach that. But talking with you now, I'd be lying if I said that all I wanted was to, as you said, get into your pants."
I laugh and put my hand on the side of his face, turning him to look at me. "Well, at least you're partially honest."
I kiss Troy, surprised by my forwardness, but I relish the feeling of his lips on mine, and even though I've only kissed a few boys before, I can't compare any of them to Troy. We don't rush, and there's nothing forced about the way we get closer and closer, his lips so amazing on my skin. He kisses to my neck, and I feel electricity in parts of my body that I'd never felt before with a guy, my whole body feeling tingly and almost humming. I realize now why Mom keeps warning me about guys. If Troy pushed right now, I'm not sure I'd be able or even willing to stop him, but he doesn't. Instead, he kisses back to my lips and I reach out with my tongue. Troy responds, and it's even more amazing than I'd ever imagined.