Faking Normal (10 page)

“I’ve hardly seen him in anything but a T-shirt,” Heather says as her eyes follow mine.

Heather’s right. Bodee’s not wearing his usual. I take a second look, and he pops his knuckles and then gives me a little wave. I don’t wave back, but I smile. “It’s Craig’s stuff,” I say, wishing we’d gone shopping for something new.

“That’s nice,” she says.

“Yeah, but I sort of miss the T-shirt.” It’s funny how things you don’t like are the things you miss when they’re gone.

“You would.” Heather rolls her eyes at me. If rolling your eyes burned up calories, Heather would be skin and bones. “Hey, you’re wearing this hot little number”—she eyes the hemline of Kayla’s dress—“so let the guy have a dress shirt.”

We return the kickoff for a touchdown, and Styrofoam-cup alcohol passes right beneath the blind eyes of parents and teachers. The party has begun.

Heather screams at the top of her lungs in celebration, but then leans down to whisper, “What happened?”

“We scored a touchdown,” I say.

“Oh. Okay. That’s good.”

“Scoot over,” Liz says as she and Ray slide in next to us. “What did we miss?”

“We scored a touchdown,” Heather says like she’s the expert.

“Is it still hard to watch them play?” Liz asks Ray.

Ray touches his knee and says, “Yeah.”

Ray’ll be back from his ACL tear by next season, and then he’ll be the one getting an earful from Craig like number seven is right now.

“Why aren’t you down there with the team?” I ask, wishing the night could go on as a girls-only event.

Ray shrugs. “’Cause Alex is a basket case. Number nineteen.” He points to a guy in the middle of the huddle. “Coach says I make him nervous, and since I’m not technically on the team right now, he doesn’t want me down there messing with his receiver’s head.”

I understand. I’m tired of a certain someone messing with my head too.

Football games are usually long. Not tonight. Craig and the other coaches mill among our guys, screaming stuff. They
scribble on clipboards and wave their arms like they’re sending jets off a carrier. I notice Craig pokes number seven right in the numbers on his chest before he sends him back onto the field.

“That was Hayden,” Heather says. She doesn’t know anything about football, but she totally knows which guy goes with which number.

“I’m glad I’m not Hayden,” I say, seeing Craig’s red face. I feel a little guilty that I never thought to look up Hayden’s number. Down on the field, the players look like red ants scurrying around after a log is turned over.

“Hayden do something wrong?” Liz asks.

“He got sacked. Wonder what Coach said to him,” Ray says. “Bet it wasn’t good.”

Heather giggles. “Craig said, ‘You screw with my little sister and I’ll be the one knocking the crap outta you.’ Just a loose interpretation,” she says, and infects everyone around us with laughter.

Including me. But of course, that’s not what Craig said. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past him—just not during a football game.

“Well, whatever Craig told him must have worked. Hayden just scored,” Liz says.

Students we don’t know give us high fives while the band cranks out the fight song. I look up and over my shoulder at Kayla. She’s giving me two thumbs-up, and it’s because my
date just scored the touchdown that put us up at halftime. Approval. In Kayla’s mind, which is way too easy to read, I now have my best chance at true happiness.

The loudspeaker announces the homecoming court and waits as they arrange themselves on the appropriate yard lines, and every girl who’d normally make a run to the bathroom at halftime waits to hear who will be king and queen for a night.

“Come on, come on; tell us who won. Nobody cares about all this crap,” Heather says as they introduce each princess and her escort. But I’m listening to Hayden’s little spiel.

“Hayden Harper, representing the junior class, is the seventeen-year-old son of Beth and Don Harper of Horn Branch. Hayden is a member of the varsity football team and was named to the All-Region first team last year. He is also a member of the varsity track team and active on the student council, FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes), and FFA (Future Farmers of America). Hayden attends Horn Branch Christian Church.”

Liz mimics the announcer’s voice. “Hayden Harper stands next to his ex-girlfriend, Janna Fields, while his date, Alexi Littrell, waits in the grandstand and blushes. Alexi is the sixteen-year-old daughter of . . .”

“Shut
up
,” I say. Am I blushing? “Besides, I knew he had to be Janna’s escort. He told me.”

“Too weird,” Liz says.

“And I’m calling it now,” I say as the announcer continues to rattle on. “Hayden gets back with Janna by the end of the night.”

“I’ll take that bet. Five dollars says he’s kissing you instead of Janna before the last song plays,” Heather challenges.

“Make it ten, and you’ve got a deal.” I figure there’s more than one way to pay for Bodee’s dance ticket.

“Deal.”

“This year’s Rickman High School Homecoming Queen
and
her king . . .”

The whole stadium is quiet as the announcer pauses and milks the moment. “Kate Applebee and Dane Winters.”

Everyone cheers for, like, thirty seconds, and it’s over. So much for fifteen minutes of fame. All most girls want now is popcorn, a drink, and to check themselves in the bathroom mirror. Bra straps. Shiny nose. Lipstick. Duplicate dresses. And then to gossip about bra straps, shiny noses, lipstick, and duplicate dresses all over again.

The second half goes faster than the first. The Rickman Raiders remain undefeated, and I’m able to join in the fun, laughing with Heather and Liz most of the time. It’s the best I’ve felt in two months, fourteen days, and twenty hours.

Mom and Dad clomp down the bleacher steps to our seats as the crowd disperses. They’re wearing identical red Rickman Raider T-shirts. Not the current ones; these are the ones
they
wore in high school, for God’s sake. Kayla and Bodee follow behind Mom and Dad.

Mom hugs me and whispers so Dad can’t hear, “You look beautiful, honey.”

Dad freaked out when Mom told me I was allowed to start dating. Mom says it’s because I’m his baby, but Kayla says he was the same with her. He wouldn’t let Craig come to the house when they weren’t home the first three months they dated, which meant they sneaked around. And that’s funny, because now Craig is at our house all the time with or without Kayla. He and Dad love every sport in the universe, and they love talking about them all the time.

“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper back.

Mom nudges my shoulder and says to the group, “Lexi’s date sounds like a nice guy. Don’t you think so, John?”

I make eyes with Bodee, who is hiding behind Kayla. He scowls at the mention of Hayden and says, “The announcer is hardly going to list their bad traits.”

Well, he doesn’t say it out loud, but I can read his lips.

“Looks like you’re moving up in the dating world,” Kayla says, snapping me back to attention. “Date with the future homecoming king last week. Date with a football star tonight. Way to snag them, sis.” Before I can smile, she adds, “Even though the football star
did
look awfully happy standing down there by his ex.”

I see Bodee’s mouth make the word. “Jerk.” I guess he’s not always soft-spoken.

“Kayla, stop,” Mom says.

“Just saying. Sorry,” she says, but there’s no sign of sorry in
her tone. That’s Kayla. She gives and she takes away. I’m used to it.

“Well, Heather’s in charge of my social calendar,” I say, “so you can give her the credit, not me. Oh, and Dad, Hayden said he’d come out to meet you and Mom after he showers.”

Liz and Ray say good-bye, and the rest of us drift toward the locker room. Craig comes out first. He’s a sweaty mess, but Kayla latches on like he’s a tree and she’s a sloth.

“Hey, baby.” He kisses her and then shakes my dad’s hand.

“Great game, Craig,” Dad says. “Had me worried the first quarter, but
man,
the second. You musta lit a fire under your guys.”

“They’re all great when we win,” Craig says with a grin. Before he and Dad get into the world of Discussing-the-Game, Craig notices me and does a double take.

He squeezes Kayla’s hand and looks all proud of me. “Lex, you’re sure growing up on us.”

“I know. Happened sometime this last summer,” Kayla answers for me.

July 20, to be exact.

Before Craig can say anything else, Kayla leans into him and asks, “You remember me in that dress?”

A hint of red appears on Craig’s cheeks as they lock eyes for half a second. He nuzzles her ear like a fool in love. “Like it was yesterday.”

O-kay. Pretty
sure
there’s a story regarding this dress that
neither Craig nor Kayla is about to share, especially not with Mom and Dad standing here. More likely it’s Kayla
not
in the dress he’s remembering. We all blush a little, because it’s obvious what’s going on. Even Heather shuffles her feet, and she’s hard to embarrass. And now I wish I’d dry-cleaned the dress before I put it on.

My dad has now lost all desire to chat with Craig about the game; in fact, he’s fuming. I guess he’s just been jerked out of denial about the existence of his older daughter’s sex life. And he’s
not
a happy camper at the moment. You’d think Kayla would have more sense than to flaunt it in front of Dad, even if they are engaged now.

Just as the silence grows a little too long, Hayden and Collie, smelling of soap and cologne, emerge from the locker room and rescue
Coach Tanner.
Hayden looks only slightly smaller in his suit than in his football pads.

“Mom, Dad, this is Hayden,” I say.

He shakes hands with both of them. “Mr. and Mrs. Littrell, nice to meet you.”

“You played a great game out there,” Dad says to him, and includes Collie in his comment.

“Thank you, sir.”

Hayden is good at this. Too good. He’s got the confident grin, the handshake, and the Mr. and Mrs. down pat. And the suit doesn’t hurt. Because everyone knows high school guys who look this good in a suit don’t drink or do drugs. Or have
sex. Yeah, I think it’s Parental Illusion #552. And what Hayden told me in the hallway this afternoon is true. He could be some kind of psycho and absolutely convince my parents with a handshake that he’s a normal, well-mannered guy.

There’s some easy chitchat, and then Dad says, “Curfew’s at twelve thirty, Alexi.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Littrell.” Hayden gives me a sweet smile, the of-course-I’ll-respect-your-daughter type that all fathers want to see, and says, “I’ll make sure she’s home safe and sound.”

Behind my dad, the shadows shift, and Bodee steps into the light.

Mom moves to include him in our huddle and puts an arm around Bodee’s shoulders. “Hayden, you know Bodee, don’t you?”

“Not well,” Hayden says, but he nods and reaches for Bodee’s hand. Like the reaction over the dress, it looks awkward. They grip each other’s hand for a bit too long.

“Good game,” Bodee says in his usual quiet voice.

Until this moment I haven’t thought of Bodee as very tough. He’s not as solid and his shoulders aren’t as wide as Hayden’s, though no one has shoulders like Hayden’s. Not even Craig or my dad. Now that I’m looking, Bodee is not the same Bodee. I try not to think it’s the borrowed clothes or the ten-dollar dance I promised him. But he has a look I haven’t seen before, and whatever it is causes Hayden to take a step back.

And then I realize. Bodee’s not hunched over and his
chin isn’t tucked in his shirt. His head’s back, and his eyes are making direct contact with Hayden’s.

Hayden says a quick thanks to Bodee and exchanges a few more words with my parents, then sends me a look that says he wants to cut this short. “You ready to go, Alexi?”

Also escape-minded, Heather and Collie are quick to move toward the gate. I nod, but glance back at Bodee as Hayden offers me his arm. One corner of Bodee’s mouth moves. There’s neither a smile nor a frown on his face, but I understand. Without words, he’s telling me not to worry.

He’ll make certain I get safely home tonight.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

chapter 10

“WHAT’S
the deal with Bodee Lennox?” Hayden asks as soon as we’re out of earshot.

“He lives at my house.” I say this as nonchalantly as possible and concentrate on keeping my heels out of the parking lot divots.

“Oh.” Hayden nods to himself, and I see he’s working out the why and how of the situation. “I didn’t realize that.”

Heather runs her shoulder into mine before she says, “Yeah, sort of the way I didn’t realize you”—she reaches around me and pokes Hayden in the chest—“were Janna’s homecoming escort. You better not be jerking my girl here.”

Now, I bump Heather. Uncomfortable. But she doesn’t care; there’s a smile on her face that would put a clown to shame. “Tension” is her second middle name. “Flirt” being her
first. Dear God, I wish the walk between the football stadium and the gym wasn’t so long.

“I’m not jerking her around.” Two bright pink spots tinge Hayden’s cheek. “I told you about Janna, didn’t I?” he asks me.

“You did,” I agree.

“Careful, man. The girl still wants you,” Collie says. “She’ll have her hooks out tonight. Lex, you’d better watch her like a hawk.”

He hasn’t called me Lex in a long time; he notices and so do I.

“Janna’s not the only one with hooks,” Hayden says. “You see that look Bodee gave me? Pretty serious.”

“Bodee always looks serious. It has nothing to do with me,” I say. This lie is easier than it should be because it’s half true.

“If you say so.” Hayden doesn’t look convinced. “But hey, it’s not like he’s competition.”

Hayden and Collie laugh. Their disregard of Bodee grates on my last nerve. Like when Kayla makes a racial slur, but I bite my tongue. This is a turnoff. Somebody (not me) should tell them, when you act like you think you’re cute, you’re not.