Rise (9 page)

He raised his eyebrows at me.

I sighed. “In other words, let’s pray for a miracle or two.”

Our family sat at the kitchen table eating Marme’s homemade chicken enchiladas and Mexican rice. Of course, the parents wanted a complete rundown of how our week was going, and seeing as how Riley’s only response was “fine,” I was left filling them in on all the down and dirty details. Riley only nodded, shrugged, and grunted every once in a while in response to a direct question.

“Pops?”

“Yep? Hey, pass the salsa, will you?”

I picked up the jar of sauce and handed it to him. “I think I’ve made a pretty important decision, and I want to run it past you.”

Evidently Riley finally got interested in our conversation because he sat forward in his chair as he took a swig of sweet tea.

“What’s that?” Pops asked.

“I’m quitting school.”

The shock of my declaration caused Riley to spew most of the tea he’d just put in his mouth all over me, and what didn’t fly out of his mouth shot out of his nose when he started laughing at seeing me covered in his beverage.

I was so disgusted I couldn’t even respond. All I could do was wipe my face on my sleeve and give my attention back to Pops, who was trying to remain stoic and fatherly rather than laugh at the repulsive shower I’d just taken.

“What do you mean, you’re ‘quitting school’?” he finally asked.

“Only if it’s okay with you.”

“Attiline, I realize it’s been a tough four days, but you just can’t up and quit school like that.”

I felt my shoulders slump and my face droop.

“I mean, I know I’m a pushover sometimes, but why on earth would you think I’d be okay with that?”

“It’s not even like it’s necessary. I mean, you’re acting like it’s a big deal. I can always go back.”

“It is a big deal!” It was the first time he’d raised his voice to me, and I didn’t like it. It even caused Riley to slide down in his chair a bit. “If you aren’t going to go to school, then what exactly is your plan?”

“To enjoy life.”

“Trust me, we’d all like to enjoy life, but sometimes we’ve got to do things we don’t like. You’re just gonna have to buck up and live a crappy life like the rest of us.”

I shrugged. “Never mind, I’m sorry I even brought it up. It’s just—”

“It’s just what?”

“Joshua and I thought it sounded like a good idea.”

“Joshua agrees with you?” Pops was literally screaming.

“It was sort of his idea.”

“What?” He was now on his feet and about to start pacing. I could tell because he looked just the way Riley did before he started pacing when he was upset about something.

“Well, with counseling a couple of times a week and church on Wednesday and Sunday nights and football games on Friday nights and Sooner games on Saturdays and cheerleading practice—”

“You can’t be on the cheerleading squad if you aren’t in school,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Attiline, it’s a school sport. You can’t be a cheerleader on a school team if you aren’t going to the school.”

“Wait, what?”

“You can’t—”

“I’m talking about quitting classes at UCO, not high school.”

Pops fell back into his seat. “Oh, thank God.”

“What, do you think I’m crazy or something?”

Riley laughed again but this time covered his mouth.

“Shut it, Riley.”

“I’m not saying a word,” he mumbled from behind his hand.

Pops laid his head on the back of the chair. He looked like he’d been KOed and left hanging in the corner of a boxing ring. “Well, I didn’t know what was going through that head of yours, and I didn’t know what I was gonna do with you.”

“I’m not a complete moron.” I was actually a bit offended that they thought I’d be as ridiculous as to think I could quit high school or even think it would be a good idea.

“You don’t wanna take classes at the university?” Riley asked.

“They haven’t even started yet, so I can get most of my dad’s money back.”

“Do you think you need to call and ask your dad about it first?” Marme asked.

“No,” I snapped. “I don’t know, it just feels like I’ve got too much going on. I don’t have any time to—”

“Enjoy life?” Marme asked.

“Yes. That’s exactly it.”

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” Riley said. “Our lives are crazy enough as it is.”

“I’m with Riley,” Marme said. “I’d like to have you home just hanging around more often. A girl your age doesn’t need to be goin’ and blowin’ all the time. Adulthood will come soon enough; no sense in rushing it.”

I looked over at Pops and waited for him to respond. He still hadn’t picked his head up off the chair.

“Pops?”

“What?”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m still trying to recuperate from my near heart attack.”

“Oh. Well, take your time.”

Riley, Marme, and I continued dinner over small talk until Pops finally regained his composure.

“I’m with you three,” he announced. “Less is more, at least in this particular situation. If you feel like you’ve got a handle on everything this winter, you can always go then. Or better yet, you can just wait till next fall like all your other friends. There’s nothing wrong with being a normal kid.”

“You’re assuming she was ever normal,” Riley teased.

“I was normal.”

“When?” he asked.

I stopped to think about it, and it took awhile because I had to go back quite a ways. “Preschool. I think I was pretty normal in preschool.”

“If you can call eating crayons normal.”

“It only happened once, Riley. They were the smelly kind, and I thought they were food.”

“So it wasn’t your sanity that was in question back then, it was your IQ?”

I threw a flour tortilla at him. “Enough out of you, or we won’t be taking any walks this evening.”

“You win.”

“Well, that didn’t take much,” Pops quipped.

Riley shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? The girl’s got skills.”

Pops scowled. “I don’t wanna know that.”

I rolled my eyes at him and took another bite of enchilada.

“Okay, then I’ll just say she holds all the power,” Riley said.

“They all do, son, and the sooner you figure that out, the better off you’re gonna be.”

“Thanks for the warning.” He picked up the flour tortilla and threw it back at me. “Oh yeah, did Attie tell you what tomorrow is?”

“No,” Marme said. “What’s tomorrow?”

I rolled my eyes again.

“What?” she asked.

“The team votes for captain.”

Marme practically jumped out of her chair in excitement. “Are you gonna win, Attie? I bet you are; I bet you’re gonna win!”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, she is,” Riley announced. “The girls are already talking about it. Just think, Attie’s gonna go from zero to hero in less than a week.”

“Hero?”

“You’re gonna be the captain of the cheerleading squad. In our school, that’s a big deal.”

Suddenly sick to my stomach, I dropped my fork onto my plate.

“I take it you aren’t excited?” Pops asked.

“What part of you thinks Tiffany Franks isn’t going to make my life a living hell if I win?”

“No part,” Pops said as he gave my leg a pat. “Prepare yourselves. I see a bumpy road ahead.”

chapter 10

My stomach felt like a light bulb lighting up the night sky as thousands of beetles flittered around the brightness. The nauseated feeling in the pit of my abdomen was understandable yet upsetting at the same time. Had it been any other circumstance, I would’ve been happy and excited to hear the announcement that was about to take place; but knowing the possible repercussions should things go my way, I was actually left hoping that I didn’t hear my name.

“And this year’s captain, with eleven out of eighteen votes, is … ” As Coach Tyler opened the envelope, I almost became physically ill. “Attie.”

I immediately shut my eyes and listened to the team scream and begin clapping. I didn’t want to see Tiffany’s face—hers or her fellow juicers.

“Juicers” was a term invented by Kent. It was used to identify anyone who followed Tiffany, Rick, or Wes. In other words, they were drinking the Tiffany Kool-Aid. When we discussed Tiffany or any of her groupies, we referred to them as “juicers.” Although it wasn’t the most loving term of endearment, it seemed to fit them perfectly.

I pulled out my notebook and wrote: I don’t deserve this.

“Congratulations, Attie,” Coach Tyler said, interrupting my writing. “Is there anything that you’d like to say?”

I squirmed a bit in my seat as I chewed on the end of my pen. “Just thank you. That’s all really.” I kept writing. I can’t do this. I’m not good enough.

“Well, come on up here. Your first order of business is to choose a co-captain.”

I closed the notebook and stuck it under my bottom so that I was sitting on it. “I’d rather not choose. Why don’t we just give it to the person who got the next highest number of votes?” I assumed the votes were for Tiffany and hoped that being cocaptain would curb some of the resentment that was probably flowing like a tidal wave in my direction.

“All right then. Anne, you came in second place with five votes, so I guess that makes you co-captain.”

“What?” Anne shrieked.

Jennifer leaned over and stuck her chin on my shoulder. “I don’t even want to look Tiffany’s direction.”

I nodded.

“How is that possible?” Tiffany’s voice erupted from a group of girls in front of me. “I’d like a recount.”

Coach Tyler looked down at Tiffany and handed her the ballots. “Feel free to count them. They’re all right there.”

She snatched them out of Coach’s hand and flipped through them. “I’d like a public vote.”

“That isn’t necessary, Tiffany. You see the ballots; no need to redo the vote.” Coach grabbed the forms back out of Tiffany’s hand. “You received the remaining two votes. You came in third.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I specifically had commitments from over half of the squad that they were voting in my favor. Something went wrong.”

“Or people didn’t want to tell you the truth to your face,” Jennifer added. “It is what it is, Tiffany. Attie and Anne are captains. Get over it.”

And so it was. My first day as captain was a complete and utter nightmare.

As Anne and I tried to corral everyone for a quick practice before the game, Tiffany individually terrorized each and every girl, demanding they admit whom they voted for. While Mandi, Jina, Casi, Christy, Trish, and Blair refused to answer, Brandee and Mary ran the other direction. Nobody wanted the wrath of Tiffany on them—not even me.

Midway through practice, she ended up “spraining her ankle” and sat out the rest of the time. Once she was no longer in the picture, practice improved, and harmony ended up winning out.

Coach called the girls together so that I could talk to them about a few business matters.

In a desperate attempt to keep my nervous energy contained, I curled my toes inside my shoes and hoped it would stay there rather than have it run up my legs, through my body, and make my voice shake. I didn’t know how they’d feel about having to wear sweats at their first game for no other reason than my uniform issues.

“I’m sure you’ve heard already, but my uniform came back a wee bit small—completely unwearable, actually. So, for the game tonight, our uniform will be our rain resistant pants and the regular uniform top.”

“Why should the rest of us have to suffer because your skirt’s too small?” Tiffany asked, walking toward the squad with no sign of a limp.

Coach Tyler and I quickly exchanged knowing glances.

“Because we’re a team, Tiffany,” Anne said. “And that’s what a team does.”

I ignored both of them. “Ironically, I hear it is supposed to rain tonight, so go ahead and bring all your rain gear just in case. We’ll meet up at the field in a few hours for warm-up. Any questions?”

I dreaded a response from Tiffany, but she somehow managed to keep her mouth shut.

“Great. Thanks everyone. See you at six-fifteen.”

Tiffany walked to within inches of me and perched her hands on her hips. “So how’d you do it?”

Jennifer was right behind her. “Jealous much?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Jen. I was talking to Attie.”

“I didn’t do anything, Tiffany. I didn’t ask anyone to vote for me; it just happened, and I’m not apologizing for it.”

“Well, it should be an interesting season. Let’s see how good you are at keeping your squad together.”

“Are you trying to turn this into a war?”

She shrugged.

“Why, Tiffany? What’s the point?”

“A little fun never hurt anyone.”

I felt my back stiffen. “You don’t scare me.”

“Not yet, anyway.” Tiffany’s shoulder rammed into mine as she walked past me.

“Oh boo-hoo,” Anne hissed in Tiffany’s direction. “I can’t believe that she’s making such an issue of this.”

“Get ready, Anne. I have a feeling it’s going to get worse. Much, much worse.”

And of course, it did.

Things were out of control before the game even started. Tiffany and the two juicers on the team refused to warm up with the rest of the squad and even walked ahead of us and onto the other team’s home field.

In an effort to create unity and reduce drama, Anne and I announced that anyone could start a cheer if they knew of one that was appropriate for a given game situation. The team really stepped up and took ownership, and the squad had the fans in a constant state of enthusiasm. It didn’t take long, however, before I realized that three squad members participated in every chant unless it was one started by Anne or myself. If we started the cheer, they literally stood still with their arms folded across their stomachs. It was their silent protest of my and Anne’s “authority”—an authority that we never actually wielded.

Finally, during halftime I noticed Pops make his way to the fence, call for Tiffany to join him, and watched as he gave her a lecture.

How did I know she was getting a lecture? Body language. I couldn’t hear a word that was said, but I did see a lot of finger pointing on his side and crossed arms, eye rolls, and foot tapping on hers.

During the second half, she and the juicers participated in all the cheers, but they sure didn’t try very hard to look like they were enjoying themselves. I tried my hardest to ignore them, enjoy the game, and watch Riley put on a show. By the end of the game, he’d scored three touchdowns, and we won, forty-two to seventeen.

Finally in the sanctuary of my car, I plugged in my iPod and sat in the driver’s seat writing all the negative thoughts I’d made mental notes of throughout the night. With all the drama going on, there was a lot to write, and I knew I was going to be up late going through the Bible.

The parking lot emptied, and the noise finally died down to a manageable level, but there were still some young kids and parents waiting outside the locker room door. I found it funny that so many children wanted their programs autographed by the players. I guess they hoped that one day one of the players would make it to the NFL and the signatures would really be something special. As they were right now, they were nothing more than the acknowledgment that they wanted to play football for Guthrie High one day too.

Riley finally appeared. He’d showered and changed into a pair of blue jeans and an OU T-shirt. He was handsome as ever, and his shaggy brown hair hung wet, partially covering one eye. As the crowd pushed into him, he strained to see above their heads until his eyes locked on mine and he smiled and gave me a nod.

I could feel myself beam at his acknowledgment. All those people huddled around him, wanting his attention, and all he wanted to do was find me. I felt special. He made me feel special.

Riley signed a few autographs, shook several hands, and took pictures with fellow players before jogging toward me.

“Look at you, you’re a celebrity.”

“Naw.” He kissed me on the forehead before hugging me. He smelled amazing, a wonderful combination of soap and cologne.

“Great game. You made me proud.”

“I just wish I could stop and watch you every once in a while.”

“You aren’t missing much. But there’s always basketball season—if I last that long.”

“Did Tiff cause problems?”

“You don’t want to know.” I slid my arms around his body and laid my head on his chest. “Besides, your dad took care of her.”

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“I’m sure. I don’t want to waste any of our time talking about her.”

“Fair enough. Everyone’s going to Braum’s. Wanna go?”

“If you do.”

“Might as well. More time for us to spend together before going home. Curt said he’d drive. We can leave your car and come back and get it before heading back to town.”

“You think it’ll be okay here?”

“Yeah. It’s a public place. What could possibly happen to it?”

(Riley)

I kicked the tire.

“It’s flat. Completely flat. So is the other one. We’ve only got one spare, so you’re gonna have to come get us.”

I could hear Dad’s heavy sigh through my cell phone. “It’ll be about thirty minutes or so before I can get over there. Lock yourselves in the car and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

“And Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Be good.”

“Dad, seriously … ”

“You’re right, sorry. I’m on my way.”

I turned and threw the phone into the car. “I swear that man lives in a constant state of paranoia. If he only knew how little actually happened, he’d be shocked.”

“Are you talking to me?” Luckily, Attie hadn’t heard me.

“No. I’m talking to myself.”

“You’ve been hanging around me too much then. I think I’m a bad influence and you’re slightly losing your mind.”

“Like I always say, you’ll probly lead to my undoing.”

Attie sauntered toward the other side of the car and looked over her shoulder at me. “I can’t say that I’m upset that we’ll have to spend more time alone together.”

Her teasing invigorated me. I ran up behind her, grabbed her around the waist, and picked her up off the ground. “You don’t have to slash your own tires to spend time alone with me, you know?” I lightly bit the skin on the back of her neck.

“No, but it was a darned good idea. I should thank whoever did it. I couldn’t have planned it any better if I tried.” I set her down, and she turned to face me. “I wonder if they’re watching from afar.”

“Hoping to see us get all upset?” My hands rested on her hips, ensuring that she wouldn’t wander outside arm’s distance.

“Little do they know … ” She looked up at me through the corner of her eyes and gave a grin.

“Maybe we should give them a show. You know, really give them something to talk about.”

Her arms wrapped around my neck. “Like this?”

“That’s a start.” My hands slowly slid up the sides of her body.

“So, Riley Bennett, tell me—”

I kissed her neck, mumbled “Mm-hmm,” and then kissed her ear.

“What’s it like to kiss the most hated girl in school?”

My lips grazed the skin below her right eye. “Give me a second. I’m about to find out.”

A giggle escaped her lips before I silenced her.

After several seconds, she jokingly and dramatically wrapped one of her legs around my waist. Even though I knew she was teasing, I admittedly lost what little common sense and any sensibilities I had left. Keeping my mouth attached to hers, I wrapped my arm around her knee and lifted her up until she was forced to wrap her other leg around my waist as well. The thought of our surroundings and situation completely escaped my mind.

She pulled her head away. “That’ll really get to them.”

“To whom?”

“The juicers.”

“That wasn’t for the juicers.”

“No, who was it for?”

“Me.” I was completely energized.

“Oh, well in that case … ”

“Hold that thought.” I propped her up against the car. “Don’t move.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

As I set my watch alarm for twenty minutes, her legs tightened around my waist, and I felt her feet cross at the ankles. My mind was spinning.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Giving us fair warning. We’ve got twenty minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Now, where were we?”

Attie looked over at me with a grin. “Well?”

“Well, what?” I put the key in the ignition and turned it enough to start the radio.

“How was it, kissing the most hated girl in school?”

“Amazing.”

“Do you feel like a rebel?”

“The luckiest rebel alive.”

She threw her feet onto the dashboard in front of her as we waited for my dad to show up. “I can’t believe you could hold up me that long.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about how much you weighed.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You probly don’t wanna know.”

Her eyes grew large as a blush took over her face and her nose scrunched.

“Anyway, you weigh twelve pounds. I could’ve held you like that all night.”

“And it was a great way for you to keep your hands stationary. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

I looked down at my hands as they tightly gripped the steering wheel. “I’m running out of ways to creatively keep my hands to myself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you kept them to yourself.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t cross over into inappropriate territory.”

“You were a good boy.” She reached across and gave my cheek a gentle pat. “Always are.”