nowhere (7 page)

“Do you mean Mike? Because she hates it when people call her Mikayla.” 

“Yes, I mean Mike, Mikayla, whatever. Just please, can I talk to her?”  I was starting to get exasperated. My dad would be looking for me soon. 

“I’m sorry, Dooner, but she can’t come to the phone right now. She’s in the shower.”

I peered around the corner and saw my dad. I quickly turned down another aisle.  Keeping my voice low, I added, “Well, can you take a message for me then?” 

“I’d be happy to.” 

I paused for a second to gather my thoughts. “Please tell Mikayla that I’m sorry, but my dad has me running errands and helping him on the farm. I’m not going to be able to get together like we planned. I’ll call back later when I’m done. Maybe I can stop by after dinner, or something.” I hated making excuses, but in this case it was the truth. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets the message,” promised Emma. 

“Thanks,” I responded, lacking enthusiasm. I had a bad feeling that Mikayla wouldn’t get the message that I called.
She’ll probably assume I’m blowing her off.
I sighed, feeling defeated.

I stuffed my phone back in my pocket just as my dad walked toward me. “I’m all set with the tire.” He motioned me to follow him. “Come on, I need to grab a few other things while we’re here.” I felt like my one chance with Mike was gone. 

It was four o’clock in the afternoon by the time we were finished putting on the new tire.  I couldn’t believe how long it had taken. “I’m calling it a day,” announced my dad as we put away the tools. He must need a drink, I thought. Hell, if I drank I’d grab one too after the day I had.

I turned on the shower and washed away the sweat and dirt. I felt terrible about screwing things up with Mikayla. I knew I should call her and explain what happened, but I didn’t think she’d want to talk to me.

Mike

I used my fork to push the meatloaf around my plate. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I felt like an idiot for sitting around the house all day, waiting for that cowboy, James, to call. “Can I be excused?”

My mom looked at my uneaten dinner and sighed. “Sure.”

I walked out onto the front porch. As the door closed behind me, I thought I heard a kitchen chair scrape across the floor. Seconds later, Emma poked her head out. “Mind if I join you?”

Since when did Emma ask my permission to do anything? “Sure.” I shrugged.

Emma lay down on the wicker settee, resting her head on the pillows, and curled up into a ball.  She looked like hell. She wasn’t wearing any make-up; even though she had olive-toned skin like our father, she looked extremely pale. The corners of my mouth turned up when I realized that she was getting the punishment she deserved.

She took a deep breath. “I want to thank you for taking care of me last night.” She continued slowly, talking mostly to herself. “We were partying on that dirt road and Tyler introduced us to some of his friends. I met his girlfriend, Liz, and we talked about cheerleading tryouts.” She paused to scratch at a giant mosquito bite on her leg. “We were all having a good time and then out of nowhere you decided you wanted to go home. I climbed into Dooner’s truck and that’s the last thing I remember. This morning I woke up in my own bed. I assume you had something to do with that?” I couldn’t respond because I was too shocked. This was the first time Emma and I had talked all day. She didn’t get up until late, and by then I had gone on a walk by myself, realizing that Dooner had stood me up.

Emma added quietly, “Thanks. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t been there. I was pretty drunk.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I did feel awful when I woke up today.” I raised my eyebrows. “Okay, I still feel awful.  My stomach’s queasy and I’ve got a killer headache. It’s like I was on an upside-down roller coaster ride all night long with my head thrashing against the safety bars while my stomach did loop-de-loops.” She closed her eyes. 

If Emma was looking for sympathy, she wouldn’t find any here. “You deserve to feel like crap.”

Emma opened her eyes and pushed up onto her elbow. “What the hell does that mean? I already thanked you for taking care of me.”

“Don’t you remember what happened after you fell asleep in Jam truck?”

“Who the hell is James?” She sounded confused.

“Dooner, James, whatever you want to call him. Do you remember what happened or not?” I asked for a second time, getting impatient.

“No. Why? Did something happen?” Her voice suddenly jumped an octave. A wicked smile spread across her face. “Did Dooner kiss me? Surely, I’d remember that.” She scratched her head. “He is drop-dead gorgeous.”

My mouth hung open.

Emma mistook the look on my face. “That’s it, isn’t it? He kissed me. Don’t even try to deny it.” 

I snickered. “I have news for you. James definitely did not kiss you.” I paused briefly before delivering the punch line. “You puked on me.”

Emma stood up. “You’re such a liar! There’s no way I’d throw up in front of Dooner.  You just made that up because you’re jealous that he likes me and not you. As a matter of fact, he called me today to see how I was feeling.” She raised her chin in the air.

My breath caught in my throat. “James called you today?” I whispered. 

“Yes. He called while you were in the shower.” She raised her chin another notch.

“Why didn’t you tell me he called?” I accused.

“Because he called to talk to me.”

“Emma, you’re lying,” I spat at her. 

“I’m not lying. He did call, and he talked to me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would he call you anyway?”

My temperature was rising. I grabbed a fistful of Emma’s hair and yanked her off the front porch fast enough to make her head spin.

“Ouch, Mike,” Emma yelped. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let go of me right now or I’ll start screaming.” She tried shaking me off.

“Shut up!” I yelled.

Emma actually listened and stopped struggling. She must have understood that I wasn’t going to stop until I saw this through. I released her. Rubbing her scalp, she followed behind me like a scolded puppy with her head down. 

“I’m going to prove to you that you did puke all over me last night.” I pushed open the greenhouse door and marched over to the garbage can where I’d thrown my disgusting T-shirt.  I pushed her head down into the garbage so that she could get a good whiff.

“What does that smell like to you?”

She stood up and flipped her straight, black hair over her shoulder. “It smells like garbage. That doesn’t prove anything.” I’d forgotten that Emma could be almost as stubborn as me.

Calmly I put on a pair of gardening gloves that were lying around and reached into the garbage can, pulling out my crusty T-shirt. The puke had dried and it smelled terrible. “Here’s the proof you wanted, Emma.” I waved the dirty shirt inches from her face. “James was holding you up from behind and I was standing in front of you. When you puked, it landed on me.  Ring any bells?”

“I had no idea.”  She slumped to the ground. Covering her face with her hands, she began to cry.

Suddenly I felt sorry for her. Maybe Emma acted so out of character because she wanted to fit in. She was probably just as scared and unhappy about moving here as I was. I sighed and sat down on the floor facing her. I remained silent for several minutes, unsure of what to say. When she’d calmed, I asked, “Are you okay, Emma?”

Slowly she uncovered her face. Her usually flawless skin was red and blotchy. “No. I can’t believe I humiliated myself like that on the first night. Everyone probably thinks I’m a loser.” Silent tears continued to run down her face. Emma always worried about what everyone else thought. “I’m sure no one wants me on the cheerleading squad now.” 

Strangely, I wanted to assuage her fears. “Don’t be so dramatic, Emma. James and I are the only ones who know you got sick. I won’t tell anyone and I’m sure he won’t either.”

“What if he already told all the guys on the football team? Before you know it, the whole school will think I’m a lush. My reputation is ruined.” She sniffed loudly. 

I shook my head. “I doubt it. James won’t tell anyone. He’s not the type.”
I can’t believe I’m saying that when only a half an hour ago I was ready to think the worst of him.
“He wouldn’t be that cruel. He was worried about you, just like I was.”

Emma’s intense blue eyes looked guilty. “Can I tell you something?” she asked and rushed to add, “without you getting mad at me?”

“Yes…” I wondered what Emma was up to now. 

“You have to promise not to get mad.”

“I won’t get mad.” My voice rose unintentionally.

“You’re getting mad already.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Politely I asked, “What do you want to tell me?”

Emma’s face turned even redder. “James did call this morning. Only you were right, he called to talk to you, not me. I lied. He’s so good-looking and he has such an amazing body,” Emma drooled, “that I wanted him for myself. Sorry. Are you mad?” She ducked her head, covering it with her hands. You’re not going to pull my hair again are you?”

“No.” I chuckled. 

“Phew,” she sighed. 

“What did he say?” I asked, turning the conversation back to what mattered.

“He asked me to give you a message.”

My eyes grew wider in anticipation. I held back from commenting because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

Emma continued. “He said that he was busy working with his dad today and he wouldn’t be able to get together until after dinner.” My spirits lifted. I hadn’t misjudged James after all. He was different from other boys. He wasn’t blowing me off; something unexpected had come up.

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said he’d call back later.” 

Feeling happy for the first time all day I stood up and reached down for Emma’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go get some ice cream. Mom bought a pint of Ben & Jerry’s at the grocery store. It’s our favorite—Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.”

“Okay.” Emma brightened. We looped arms and headed toward the house.

Dooner

I was taking a quick water break during the first of two practices on Monday morning.  Without pause, Coach shouted the next drill. “Team, huddle up. Let’s run wide out drills. I want all the guys who’re trying out for wide receiver and tight end to get in formation. Also I need our quarterback, Tyler, out here to throw passes. Let’s see who knows how to catch a football.”  Coach looked at me, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. I knew he was counting on me this season to catch whatever Tyler threw at me and run for a touchdown.

I wouldn’t let him down. Last year I set a new school record for the most touchdowns scored by a single player in one season. This year I planned to break my own record. 

I lined up with the other players. It was only a conditioning and technique drill, so we weren’t wearing helmets, only light pads and shorts. A couple of drills were run before it was my turn. I stepped up in formation with Casey, Tyler’s sidekick, playing free safety. Tyler threw a leading pass. I reached for the ball and caught it easily. Casey plowed into me and I fell to the ground, with him landing on top. I was used to hard hits, but not by my own teammates. I growled. A hit that hard was no accident. It was no secret that we weren’t pals, but this was low even for them.

I shoved Casey off of me and stood up. “What the hell was that for?” I shouted angrily.

Casey played dumb. “I was showing Coach I meant business.” Coach stood on the sidelines, watching our every move. He didn’t look pleased. 

“We’re only running bump and run drills,” I stated, doubting he’d actually forgotten. 

Tyler rushed to his buddy’s aid. “Hey man, back off.”

I turned around quickly and faced him. “What’s your problem, Tyler? Why’d you throw me that blind pass? Remember we’re on the same team, jackass. Are you jealous that the scouts are going to be looking at me and not you?” I took a step closer to him. The team had quieted down and I could feel their eyes on us. 

“Jealous of you?” Tyler snorted. “Hardly.”

“You’re just making a big girly fuss about nothing.” Casey nodded, agreeing with Tyler.

Normally I kept my temper in check, but today I could feel it building. I was in a bad mood because my dad had been riding my ass for days and I was still pissed about missing my date with Mikayla. Their goading pushed me over the edge. I shoved Tyler with both hands. He stumbled over Casey, who was still on the ground. I watched as Casey and Tyler exchanged a look I recognized. I was prepared when they jumped me at the same time. It was two against one, but the odds didn’t bother me. I’d been outnumbered before. I landed a hard punch to Tyler’s gut while he connected with my jaw. My hand was inches from his face when the sound of the whistle brought me back to reality.

Coach was beyond angry. His eyes were pinched and his forehead was deeply creased. I didn’t blame him. He’d just witnessed the team captains fighting each other. Coach had a “zero tolerance” policy for that sort of behavior. I knew the punishment would be harsh. I deserved it for falling into Tyler’s trap. What was worse was knowing I’d let Coach down. He was more like a father to me than my own. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, hiding under the layer of anger. I’d really fucked things up this time.

“Team, line up in the end zone.  You can thank your three friends later for this next drill.  We’re running suicides,” he yelled into his megaphone.

I heard moans and groans from the rest of the team as we took our positions. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Just so there are no doubts, you’re all running until you puke.”

Coach blew his whistle, signaling the first round. We sprinted to the 10-yard line, touched the line with our hand, and then raced back to the goal line. “Hustle,” Coach shouted angrily. Without pause, he blew his whistle again. This time we ran to the 20-yard line and back. We continued running, adding ten yards each time. By the time we completed one full round of suicides, most of the team wasn’t looking good. They were slowing down and everyone was sweaty and winded. I was to blame. I shouldn’t have let Tyler get to me.