Catching Jordan (23 page)

“Jordan, sweetie,” she says, “I need a picture of you with Sam. Come on.” She grabs my hand and pul s me over to where the homecoming court is standing. Mom and Mrs. Carter are there too, oohing and ahhing over Carrie’s pink satin dress.

“Let’s get a picture of the four of you,” Mom says, pointing at me, Henry, JJ, and Carter. As Henry rips the crown off his head, I stand between JJ

and Carter as our moms get camera happy. They make us trade places about a bil ion times and encourage us to smile while passing their cameras back and forth to each other, showing off their shots.

Final y after about fifty freaking photos, a teary-eyed Mrs. H. says, “Sam, Jordan, I want one of just the two of you.”

Carter steps away, leaving a gap between me and Henry. We simultaneously take a step closer together, but we don’t touch. “Smile!” Mrs. H.

says, so I put on a fake grin, but when I look out of the corner of my eye, Henry’s face is blank.

This is the closest he’s been to me in three weeks, so I take my chance. “Sam, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Me too,” he replies softly.

“Can we talk about al this?”

“Jordan, I just can’t right now,” he whispers, glancing at my face once before walking to the bench, where he pul s his helmet on over his blond curls and starts reading a playbook.

•••

Standing in the locker room after the game, which, of course, I rocked, I’m getting ready for the dance. I’m actual y excited.

I’ve never been to a dance, and I’ve certainly never worn a girly evening gown dress thing. Mom and Vanessa took me to the mal and while I played video games in the arcade, they picked out this awesome black number with a slit up the side. It had better drive Ty crazy, because I can’t breathe in this damned thing. I have to admit it looks real y pretty, though.

Looking in the mirror, I brush my hair, trying to make it look good, but I can’t seem to do anything with it.

The door to the locker room slams open and Carrie walks in. I haven’t spoken to her since that day at practice.

I don’t say anything; I just keep brushing my hair, hoping that maybe some sort of fairy godmother wil pop up and make my hair respectable, and maybe turn my Gatorade into a Ferrari like Cinderel a’s fairy godmother turned that pumpkin into a horse-drawn carriage.

“Love your dress,” Carrie says softly. Using the mirror’s reflection, I watch as she eyes me. She drops her bag into her locker and then rubs her elbows.

“Thank you. I like yours too,” I say, glancing at her pink dress. Only she could make that color look good.

Biting her lip, she starts to leave.

“Carrie—wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Um, do you think, maybe, you could?” I lift a clump of hair.

She licks her lips, looking at the ratty black and red carpet, but then comes back over to me, takes my hand, and leads me to a bench. She sits me down and starts fiddling with my hair.

In the mirror, I watch as she brushes my hair and pul s it back. She lets little wisps of hair out of the bun so that it almost looks like one of my knots, but somehow this seems softer, daintier. It looks good.

“Thank you,” I say.

Carrie takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I told you, Jordan…this is al my fault. I don’t know if Henry wil ever forgive me. I hope you can.”

Standing and smoothing my dress, I smile. I prefer being around guys, but I need this friendship too. It’s not like Carter or JJ could talk about girl stuff, like hooking up with guys. Or fix my hair when I’m desperate. If I asked Carter to fix my hair, I’m sure he’d muss it and slap a hat on me.

“Yeah—definitely. I’m real y glad we’re friends.”

She beams at me. “Thanks. Ready to hit the dance? Ty’s outside waiting for you and he looks so damned hot I almost jumped him.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it’s hard not to do that,” I say as we leave the locker room, where we find Ty and Carter waiting for us.

“Holy crap, Woods,” Carter says, looking me up and down. “You can’t wear shit like that. It’s, like, against the nature of the universe or something.”

Chuckling, I walk up and shove him, and he laughs too. “Just kidding,” he whispers. Pul ing me up close, he continues, “Seriously though, you’l be the most gorgeous girl at the dance tonight.”

“Thanks,” I reply, giving his shoulder a punch.

Ty’s holding a red rose and he’s wearing a button-down shirt and khakis with no tie. Carrie was right—he looks rugged and hot. I take the rose from him and give him a kiss.

“Who said the rose was for you?” Ty whispers into my neck.

“Who’s it for? Carter?”

“Uh,
yeah
.” Ty grins.

I bring the rose to my nose, to smel it. “Thank you anyway. You look nice.”

Ty eyes my dress. “You look sexy.” He pul s me away from Carter and Carrie, heading away from the gym and toward the parking lot.

“Uh, Ty, the gym is that way.”

He turns around, moving backward as he keeps pul ing me. “I know. But after seeing you in that dress, I want to rip it off you.”

Laughing, I drop his hand. “No way, man. I’ve never been to a dance. We’re going.” I turn and march toward the gym, making him chase me. From behind, he jogs up and slips a hand around my waist.

Inside the gym, red and black bal oons hang from the wal s and crêpe paper is everywhere.

“Über-cheesy,” I tel Ty. “Even I could do better than this.”

Stil , I’m glad to experience this before I graduate.

A slow Tim McGraw song is playing as Ty grabs my hand and leads me to the center of the gym. He whirls me around, then pul s me in close. I rest my chin on his shoulder and gaze around at the darkened gym, taking in the scene.

JJ and Lacey are standing in the corner, fighting. Carter and Carrie are dancing, smiling at one another. I sure hope she’s able to get over Henry, because it seems as if Carter actual y likes her, and he never seriously likes anybody. Kristen is dancing with Higgins, but she keeps glancing at me and Ty, then quickly looks away. Jealous much?

I lean my forehead against Ty’s for a minute, but then move my chin back to his shoulder, taking in the scene again. Now, JJ and Lacey are standing in the corner, making out. Ridiculous. Then Henry comes into the gym. He certainly didn’t dress up for the dance. He’s wearing holey jeans and an old T-shirt, but he stil looks damned hot.

He’s twirling that stupid cheapo crown on his finger and gazing around the gym. A couple of girls hustle up to him, probably asking him to dance, but he waves them away. Leaning against the wal , he keeps twirling the crown. As the slow song ends, Henry’s green eyes find mine, and I pul away from Ty and begin walking toward my friend. Henry stares at me, then stares at my dress. And then he just turns around and leaves the gym, dropping the stupid crown.

What the hel ?

•••

FROM: Woods, Jordan

TO: Tucker, Mark (Athletics, University of Alabama) DATE: Saturday, October 9, 06:47 a.m.

SUBJECT: District finals

Dear Mr. Tucker:

I hope you are well. I’m looking forward to attending the Alumni Charity Ball in December. Thank you for the proofs of the calendar. I love it.

I just wanted you to know that we won our final game of the season last night. We beat Davidson County 31–7. I threw for 320 yards. I’ve attached a video of the game for you to share with the football coaches.

Next week, we head to district finals, and if we win, we’ll go to the state championship. I hope you and Coach Thompson can make it to the game.

Thank you again for everything.

Sincerely,

Jordan Woods

party at carter’s,

Low lights

Lame cheap beer

Ty’s at work

JJ made me come

Don’t know why I did

Carter and Carrie sit out by the pool deep in conversation

JJ and Lacey sit on the couch deep in each others’ throats I sit in the kitchen, surrounded by junior varsity guys sucking up

fishing for compliments on their game asking what chicks like

(as if I’d know)

The back door opens—

Carrying a whiff of chlorine and fall And Henry being dragged by Samantha Milton She says, “Let’s find a room”

He sees me

Stops

Swallows

I run outside

Start my engine

When I look up

He walks out

We wave, we stare

I drive away

the count? 30 days since the fight with henry
Ty and I are throwing a bal around in the backyard. We’re playing burnout, a game where we throw the bal at one another as hard as we can, and the first person to drop the bal loses.

Ty is standing about thirty yards away as I launch the bal at him. He catches it and throws it back to me. He’s a damned good quarterback—I have red stinging hands to prove it. I jog back a couple steps and hurl the bal at Ty, and surprisingly, he actual y drops it.

“Damn,” he shouts. “That one had some heat on it, Woods.”

“Want to play again?”

“Nah,” he says, walking toward me, tossing the bal up and catching it. Then he grabs my side and pul s me up against him, and we kiss. “So guess what?”

“What?”

“I might sign to play at Tennessee.”

I squeeze his biceps. “That’s great!”

“It’s good that I’l be living near Mom and Vanessa. It’s no Alabama, but it’s stil a damn good team,” he says, laughing.

I rest my chin on his shoulder and wrap my arms around his waist. “Yeah, it’s no Alabama.”

“And since your brother is graduating next year, I’d be starting as a sophomore.”

“I’m real y excited for you.”
I’m also really jealous of you.

“When do you think you’l start at Alabama? As a sophomore? Or a junior?”

I hug Ty harder and close my eyes. “Not sure,” I lie, thinking about how Mark Tucker never even discusses my skil s on the field, and probably never wil . This embarrasses me so much, that deep down I know the truth, that Alabama is probably never gonna let me play, that unless I look for another col ege program that might take a girl, my footbal career wil probably be over at the end of this season. But what if Alabama ends up giving me a shot? Why should I give up now when I’ve worked this hard?

“Let’s see who can throw the farthest,” I say. “After each pass, step back about five yards.”

“’Kay.” Ty throws the bal at me and I catch it.

I go back a few yards, and toss it to Ty, who catches it and steps back a few feet. Then he throws it to me again. We keep hurling long bombs until we’re about fifty yards apart.

“Go to the other side of the lake,” I yel .

Ty smirks. “You real y think you can throw a bal across the lake? It must be at least sixty yards at the skinniest part.”

“Come on! I wanna try.”

“Fine. But if it goes in the water, you’re the one fishing it out.”

“Deal.”

Ty jogs down to the lake and sprints around the banks toward the other side. While I’m waiting for him to get in position, Dad comes outside and stands next to me.

“Damn, Ty sure has an arm on him,” Dad says.

I didn’t figure Dad would say anything about my arm, but I stil feel my body sagging a bit. I guess I’l never stop hoping he’l want to support me.

Dad cups his chin with his hand. “I was watching you guys throw the bal around. It’s amazing that, out of the entire United States, the NFL can’t find thirty-two good quarterbacks. Yet you and Ty can both throw perfect spirals at age seventeen.”

“I know, right?” I toss the bal in the air and catch it.

“You real y think you’re gonna throw that bal across the lake?” Dad says with a smile. “I doubt even your brother could make that pass.”

“Watch me.” I jog back a few steps and hurl the bal as hard as I can. It flies over the water, and like Dad and Ty suspected, it doesn’t land in Ty’s arms. It hits the water right before the bank and bounces up onto the grass.

“That was incredible!” Ty yel s from the other side of the lake as he picks up the wet bal and wipes it on his shirt.

“Nice,” Dad says, patting me on the back.

I turn and smile at Dad. Not to taunt him or anything, but because I’m glad he at least said, “Nice.”

“I wonder if I could make that pass across the lake. What you just did was pretty amazing,” Dad says, squeezing my shoulder. He takes a deep breath. “Can I throw the bal around with you?”

I stare at the gleaming water for a sec, my pulse racing as I turn to look at Dad, who’s wearing that same expectant look he gives me when he asks to go fishing, or to race go-karts. I find myself wrapping my arms around his neck, letting him pul me in for a hug, for the first time in forever.

“You can throw the bal around with us as long as you take me out for milkshakes later.”

“Deal.”

“Jordan,” Ty cal s out. “Catch!” He runs back a few steps, winds his arm and hurls the bal . It doesn’t come anywhere near me and lands about ten feet away, right in the water. It splashes and just floats there like a cork. Ty bows his head as Dad bursts out laughing.

I crack up too. “You’re fishing it out, Ty!”

Michigan came to look at Henry I didn’t play favorites

And alternated my passes

One touchdown for Higgins

Three for Henry

He’s an awesome wide receiver He’s the biggest asshole ever The
great
Donovan Woods showed up After the game

Dad hugged me

Patted my back

Kissed my forehead

Didn’t mention how I played But did say of all the kids on the team, Henry has the most potential and heart Hundred Oaks–31

Tullahoma–24

The district title’s in the bag Poster girl or not

I’m going to Alabama

My dream school…

So why do I feel so empty?

the count? 39 days since the fight with henry
The week after the district championship, which, by the way, I rocked, we have Friday night off, so Ty’s taking me on a date. Our first real date.

Since he spends his Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays washing dishes, and every other day is devoted to practice and games, we haven’t had a chance to go out, just the two of us. Usual y, he comes over after practice for a couple hours, we make out, and then he goes home. At school, we eat lunch and walk down the hal , but it’s not like we’ve gotten to spend a huge amount of time together. In some ways, I barely know him.