Janie glances at her phone. “In an hour.”
“Oh, how I wish I could go to a football game instead of my shift,” she says and closes the door behind her.
I run out the door and find Mom in the hallway. “Hey.”
She turns around. “Yeah, sweetie?”
“Thanks for watching the movie with us.”
She leans over and hugs me tight. “Thanks for letting me. It was a nice trip back to the eighties. I was a little girl when I first saw it, but I remember that movie.” She lets me go and nudges her head toward my door. “That one’s a keeper.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll keep her around.”
“I need to get to work. I’ll see you in the morning. I assume you’re going to eat after the game? I have some leftovers in the fridge.”
“Mom, I’ll be fine.”
She reaches over and moves a piece of hair that had fallen in front of my face and tucks it behind my ear. “I know. You always could take care of yourself.”
I head back into the room and plop on the bed, glance at the floor, and arch an eyebrow at Janie. It looks like my closet threw up. “Uh, whatcha doing?”
“We need to find you the perfect outfit for the game.” I scan the piles of black shirts and jeans. The only differences are the designs on each of them. “Did I ever tell you your taste in clothes is depressing?” she says, folding up a pair of my jeans and setting them on my bed.
“I believe you inferred that when you said I had to go shopping with you the other day.”
“We need to get more color on you. This is like a serial killer’s wardrobe.” She grabs the black shirt with a silver design and the newest jeans I bought with her at the mall. “Here,” she says handing them to me.
I grab them from her. “You know I’ll have my coat on, right? No one will see it. So it really doesn’t matter what you choose.”
She puts her hand on her hip and purses her lips. “Humor me, then.”
“Clothes aren’t going to instantly make me likable, Jane.”
“Do you think that’s what I’m trying to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Colter’s going to be there.”
I groan and lay back on the bed, hugging the clothes close to me. “Come on. The horse is dead. You’ve killed it. Quit dragging it around.”
She flops down beside me and gets in my face. “Ha ha. Get ready. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
26
I pull out a strand of hair caught in my mouth and adjust myself on the bleacher. The ridges are already hurting my ass. Colter’s late and I’m sitting behind a guy in a hat with one of those fuzzy balls on the top. Jackson’s stretching on the field, stopping in between reps to give Janie slobbery kisses. His lips are attached to hers when the coach yells at him to pay attention, and they both laugh. They’re so damn cute it makes me want to puke.
I’ve thought about Dean a lot. He’s gone back to ignoring me, but he’s still alive. I drove by his house on the way here, but his car wasn’t in the driveway. I have no idea what to say to him anymore. I feel helpless, watching him get further away. He’s like a painting that from a distance is beautiful, but when you get up close it distorts and melds into something ugly, something dark. Maybe that’s what I look like too. I close my eyes to will his image away as the piercing wind blows my hair around. Wrapping my arms around me, I try to quell the chatter of my teeth.
Janie finally separates from Jackson and heads up the stairs to the bleachers. She sees me and her face lights up. “I thought maybe I’d have to chase you down in the parking lot.”
“I thought about it. Why didn’t anyone tell me how cold it got out here?” I say, shifting to the right so she can sit.
She plops down next to me, propping her legs on the spot in front of us. The guy with the ball hat half turns and gives her a glare for invading his space. “Hey, Ell?”
“What?”
“It’s cold out here,” she teases.
“Yeah, a little too late,” I say.
She nudges my side. “Where’s Colt?”
“I’m not his keeper today.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yoooou want him. You want him bad,” she sings, like we’re in fourth grade.
“I don’t want anyone, Janie. You’re reaching.”
She grins wide, like she knows my secrets. Guilt seeps into the moment. I can’t tell her my secrets or this friendship will fade. She would never understand, just like Jackson. I want to tell her, though. I don’t want to keep anything from her, but I have to. Add it to the pile of guilt and shame I have buried in my soul.
“Jackson’s amazing. How have you been friends with him for so long and never tried anything?” She eyes me carefully. “Or have you?”
I chuckle at the insinuation. “He’s like a brother to me. It would be like kissing a dead frog.”
She laughs. “He said something similar. Not the dead frog bit, though. You guys are so cute.”