4
By the time I reached the football field on Thursday after school, cars filled the dust-choked parking lot. Parents and teachers milled outside the field, their long shadows hinting at the coming autumn.
Anna greeted me with a warm smile, her blond hair pulled back into flowing pigtails.
“Game doesn’t start for a bit,” she said as Layla strode into view, looking underdressed in a black T-shirt and black aviators.
“Hey!” she said. “What did I miss? You tell her Parker still has the hots for her yet?”
“No,” Anna said, shifting her feet uncomfortably. “It ain’t my place.”
I felt red splotches run up my neck. Parker seemed harmless enough, but something about him made me uncomfortable. He reminded me too much of guys who had beaten me and thrown me in lockers for so much of my life.
“Where’s Chloe?” Layla flipped her short bob.
“Not sure. I thought she’d meet us here, but I guess she’ll just find us in the stands.”
We passed through the gap in the fence near the bleachers. The athletic equipment shone with a surprising cleanness and the grass was lush and even. Too many dads seemed interested in us as we passed, and for just a moment I missed the near-invisibility of life as a boy.
I noticed Grant as we passed the bench. He gave me a wide, lopsided smile, the same smile he’d been giving me whenever our eyes met in homeroom or the halls. “Amanda! Hey!”
“I’ll save you a seat,” Layla said, pushing me toward him. I stepped forward gingerly, reminding myself that there was nothing to be afraid of.
“You came.”
“I did.”
“Do you even like football?”
“No,” I admitted, shaking my head and laughing. “Why, is there something else to do in this town?”
“Ouch!” He put his hand over his heart, but then turned more serious. “Don’t know if you’ve heard, but some people are gettin’ together Saturday night. Think you might wanna come?”
Saturday night. I thought about what Saturday night had looked like for the last ten years. Dinner with my mom: Chinese takeout if we were feeling adventurous; pork chops with cornbread, black-eyed peas, and turnip greens if we weren’t. Video games in my room: all alone, late into the night, until my fingers ached and I was tired enough to fall asleep without my thoughts swirling. An actual high school party had always been a distant, exotic thing, something that only existed in movies.
I nodded slowly. “I could do that, I think.”
“Well, all right then,” he said, smiling and scratching his temple.
Parker sauntered over from the bench and handed Grant his helmet.
“Game’s about to start,” he said. He glanced at me quickly and turned away.
“Sorry.” Grant shrugged. “Gotta go.”
He grinned as he trotted over to the bench.
Layla and Anna looked ready to explode when I joined them in the bleachers.
“I think Parker has competition,” Anna said, smiling brightly and twisting her long, blond hair in her fingers.
“Three words.” Layla raised a finger in the air. “Awkward. Dorky. Adorable. I loved it.”
I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. I felt, at least for a moment, what it was like to be a normal teenage girl.
*
By the end of the first quarter I desperately needed to pee. I glanced behind the bleachers to where the bathrooms stood, two low, squatting buildings, one bearing the telltale stick figure in a skirt. I had only used a women’s room a few times since I’d been attacked, and the idea still made my heart race. But there was no avoiding it now.
“Want company?” Layla asked as I excused myself.
“No,” I said quickly. Layla leaned back and pursed her lips. “Sorry. I’m fine, thanks.”
I left the bleachers and headed for the bathrooms. When I pushed open the door, the smell of paint and bleach invaded my nostrils, reminding me how much cleaner girls’ bathrooms were than boys’. The stalls were empty, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Outside two female voices whispered back and forth, their words too soft to make out. One giggled. I washed up quickly and as I exited the bathroom, I found Bee and Chloe rounding the far corner. They stopped midstride. I froze with my still-damp hands mid-wipe on my thighs. Bee nodded in my direction. Chloe’s eyes widened. Her fingers curled and uncurled at her side. She kept her eyes locked on the field, never turning them to me.
“Hey!” I said, forcing a conversational tone as if we’d just met in the halls. I couldn’t tell what they were hiding; drugs, probably, but I also didn’t really want to know. “Anna and Layla are near the benches, you can’t miss them.”
“Thanks,” Chloe said. She glanced at me as she walked away, her red curls bouncing and her face as stony and unreadable as always. “Glad you came.”