This Gorgeous Game (3 page)

I’m distracted by a boy.

My heart begins to pound. He’s bouncing a soccer ball—knee to knee to instep to knee—diagonally to my right. It’s difficult not to move closer, like he suddenly has me in his gravitational pull, and I can’t help but admire his dark features, the way his T-shirt shifts against his body as he moves, so fluid, so graceful and quick to meet the ball as it ascends, descends, ascends with every bounce.

“Olivia. Hey.” Ash snaps her fingers in front of my face and I start. She is grinning. “See something you like?”

“No,” I warn. Ashley is famous for acting rash. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“
Moi?
Ideas?”

I take two big steps away from her, just in case.

“Olivia!”

I turn and see my sprite of a sister half running, half walking toward us, dragging her boyfriend, Luke, behind her. Greenie and Luke have been courting—yes, courting, as in the olden days—since January. He’s also an HMU student and super Catholic like she is. When they are only a few paces away, Greenie drops Luke’s hand and soon I am engulfed in a hug.

“Congratulations on your big win! I’m so happy for you.” Greenie speaks into my shoulder since she is a full head shorter. “Hey, Jada. Ash.” She pulls back, giving them a wave.

“Nice work, Olivia,” Luke says.

“Thanks, Luke. Good to see you, as always.” Luke gives me a guy-style hug—a one-arm-around-the-shoulders squeeze—and then steps away to say hi to someone he knows passing by, giving Greenie and me space to do our sisterly catching up.

“I’m not at all surprised.”

“I wish people would stop saying that.”

“That’s because we weren’t surprised, either,” Ash explains to Greenie.

“You’ve always been the smart one in the family.”

“New topic, please.”

“Tell me all about Father Mark. What was he like?” Greenie wants to know.

“You haven’t met him? But he teaches here.”

“He’s one of HMU’s trophy professors. Impressive for the school to list as faculty but only on campus, like, once a year. The summer class you’re taking, for example.”

“He didn’t strike me as the inaccessible type,” I say, recalling our encounter yesterday, feeling thrilled all over again. “But to answer your question: he was really nice. I was a bit starstruck. It felt like a big deal.”

“He is a big deal. I bet Mom freaked when you told her about winning. She thinks he’s God’s gift to the novel, just like you,” Greenie adds.

“Freak she did,” Jada confirms, and proceeds to relay my mother’s reaction in minute detail, followed by Father MacKinley’s, until my cheeks are as red as Greenie’s sundress.

“So,” Ash says, after the embarrassing commentary subsides. “Who is that guy over there? I think Olivia would like an introduction.”

“Ashley Williams, don’t you—” I start, but my protest is wasted because Greenie is gone before I can stop her, tugging on Luke’s arm. He bends down so she can whisper in his ear, turns toward the soccer game, and soon he is off walking toward soccer boy. “I am going to kill you. And Greenie’s next.”

“No you won’t. You love us too much.” Ash moves away from my reach just in case. “Maybe a college boy will better be able to handle your many charms,” she says, and gives me her
I’m totally innocent
face.

“Whatever, Ash.”

Greenie wears a grin when she returns. “So! You like Jamie Grant.”

“Don’t you have exams to study for or something?” I say, and roll my eyes skyward, wishing myself out of this situation.

“Everyone here knows who he is,” Greenie says, ignoring my question. “He’s a perfect specimen of the male species, after all.”

“Please, Greenie…” My voice fades when I see Luke walking our way with the boy whose name is apparently Jamie and another guy. “Doesn’t anyone here study?” I wonder under my breath.

“Look who’s coming over to say hello,” Ash says, giddy, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of watching me fumble my way through a conversation with a hot college boy.

“Sam and Jamie,” Luke says when the three of them arrive, “this is my girlfriend, Greenie, her sister, Olivia,” he says and I want to hug him for not qualifying me as
little
or worse,
kid
, “and Olivia’s friends Ashley and Jada.”

There are handshakes all around, not to mention shaking in general on my part out of nerves, especially when Jamie catches my eyes.

“I’m Jamie,” he says, extending his hand.

“Olivia Peters,” I say, taking it, holding on a little too long.

“Nice to meet you,” says the friend.

I try to tear myself away from Jamie but I can’t. I’m fixated on the thin silver chain around his neck, a tiny cross, just visible above his faded T-shirt. I am intoxicated by his nearness, bordering on mesmerized.

“I’m Sam,” the friend adds, and I have to focus on him for real. I don’t want to be rude.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, feeling grateful when Jada takes over, happy to steer Sam’s attention away from me to her.

“So you go to Sacred Heart?” Jamie asks.

“We’re going to be seniors there.” Despite the fact that I’m still wearing my uniform, I want to seem as mature as any other girl walking around the HMU quad.

“Luke said you’re taking a class here this summer—well,
the
class,” he says, sounding impressed. “It’s virtually impossible to get a spot in Father Mark’s seminar, you know. You are one lucky person. Though, Luke was quick to brag that it wasn’t luck, but because you won a big writing contest.” His smile is brilliant and I bask and glow in its light. “Sam and I are both trying to get the endless signatures of approval we need to get into it. Sign our souls over to the devil, that sort of thing.”

Did I hear him right? “You’re taking Father Mark’s seminar?”

“Trying to,” he corrects me.

“I’m sure you’ll get in,” I say, thinking,
Please, let Jamie in!

So we stand there, Jamie and I, smiling at each other. Shy. Neither of us knowing what to say next.

“On that note,” Greenie comes to the rescue, grabbing my arm, pulling me toward Gregory Hall since I am in a bit of a daze. “I’m going to walk Olivia over to the registrar,” she calls back over her shoulder.

Luke, Jamie, Ash, and Jada and Sam—deep in conversation now—follow behind us.

“Yes. Right,” I say, coming to. “Registering for class.”

“Yes, my dear. The real reason you came here today, remember?” Greenie whispers into my ear, chuckling. “Well, and to see me.”

“Absolutely.”

“That started off well,” Greenie says, nonchalant. Much subtler than Ash. “He was all dreamy-eyes for you.”

“Do you think?”

“Definitely. Though, no surprise there.”

“Oh, come on, G.”

“I’m not sure what I think of you going out with a college guy.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I may never see him again.”

“Doubtful. Besides, you never know, he might get into Father Mark’s class…” Greenie glances back at everyone, still following behind us. “Looks like Jada and Sam have made, um, a connection.”

“They’ll be trading contact info before we leave,” I say, turning to look at the two of them, eyes glued to each other, talking about what, I wish I knew. If only I had Jada’s powers of boy-conversation.

We cross the wide, slate courtyard and Greenie stops in front of the door to Gregory Hall. “We’ll wait outside for you. I’ll keep an eye on Ash and Jada. Make sure no one wanders off.” She takes in the scene Jada and Sam are making now, their heads thrown back laughing, like they’ve known each other forever. Then, turning back to me, she says, “Go straight down the hall, through the center of the building, and you’ll see the registrar’s office on the right.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I take one last look at Jamie—who smiles when our eyes meet—before I grab the handle to the entrance hoping it will keep me from floating away with giddiness. I pull on the heavy door and feel the air-conditioning rush outside. An old-fashioned directory is mounted on the wall to the left, the kind with the white block letters that you can arrange and rearrange along the grooves. It tells me that the “Regstrar”—it’s missing the
i
—is room 132. Mosaic tiles in shades of red and cream are set into the floor and form diamond patterns with the HMU crest at their center. I move through the corridor slowly, taking in the beauty of the carved wood designs between the door frames, until I reach the middle of the building and stop for a moment to look up. A cathedral ceiling reaches four stories high, with stained-glass windows at the very top that sparkle a million colors in the sun.

It’s stunning.

Maybe I’ll go to college here like Greenie,
I think as I move on, eventually arriving at the registrar.

“How can I help you?” The man behind the counter smiles when I walk through the door.

“I’m here to sign up for Father Mark Brendan’s summer seminar,” I say, as Sister June instructed this morning at school.

The man’s face falls, anticipating my disappointment. “You need special permission from the professor. I’m sorry—I won’t be able to do anything without his signature, the English chair’s signature, and the dean’s.”

“But I have special permission,” I explain, feeling a burst of pride as I present the paperwork Sister June gave me.

He glances at the letter and picks up the phone. “Dr. Schaeffer. You have someone here to see you. For Father Mark’s class,” he adds before hanging up.

A man in a coat and tie steps out of a fancy adjoining office.

“You must be Olivia Peters,” he says, approaching the counter. “I’m Dr. Schaeffer, Dean of Undergraduate Studies.” He smiles and offers his hand, which I take.

“Um, yes, I’m Olivia. Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Father Mark made sure we had everything ready for our special new student.” Kind eyes blink behind Dr. Schaeffer’s horn-rimmed glasses. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Wow. How nice of him.”

“I’ve known Mark for many years—he’s been trying to get this contest going for a long time and is understandably excited to have the first winner announced. It’s a great honor for HMU, too.” Dr. Schaeffer pushes a form across the counter and hands me a pen. “All you need to do is sign here to make it official.” He points to a line marked with an
X.
“Here, too. Then your initials here.”

With each signature I am more excited, feeling like anything and everything is possible. The world at my fingertips. After initialing the last line, I return the pen and form to Dr. Schaeffer.

“You’re all set, Ms. Peters.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Enjoy the rest of this beautiful day and we’ll see you in June.”

“You will.” I smile wide. There is a spring in my step as I leave the office and head back down the corridor. When I reach the part with the cathedral ceiling I can’t help but pause, this time taking in the gargoyles and other mythical creatures that guard the upper reaches—when I hear my name.

“Olivia? What a surprise!”

Oh-liv-ee-aah.

Father Mark stands not two feet away. In one hand is a briefcase and clasped across his chest a manuscript, or maybe just a stack of papers. He’s dressed exactly the same as yesterday—black pants, long-sleeved black shirt, white collar—but this churchlike space seems a more appropriate setting for someone like him than the cramped front office at Sacred Heart.

“Hi, Father. I just registered for the class.”
The
class.

“I’ll take that to mean you are looking forward to it.”

“I am. Really.” I beam. “By the way, yesterday I was in such shock, you know, about winning, that I don’t know if I expressed how grateful I am. That you picked me. I mean, for picking my story. You know, I didn’t say thank you and all that.”

“No need, Olivia.” Father Mark is matter-of-fact. “You deserve the honor. I didn’t pick a winner out of kindness.” He tilts his head, looks at me in a way I don’t know how to describe. “You are quite something, aren’t you?” His voice is soft, faraway, when he says this and I don’t know how to respond. Then, as if suddenly remembering where he was headed, he snaps back to attention and says, all business, “I’m on my way to a meeting with the provost. I’ll be in touch again before you know it—I meant what I said yesterday. It’s wonderful to run into you. Just wonderful.”

Before I can smile and say, “Bye, Father,” he is off, down the corridor in the other direction, so I continue on my way, feeling elated that Father Mark was nice to me for the second time. Which means yesterday wasn’t a total fluke.

I feel positively shined upon by fate.

When I reach the door I push my way outside into the blinding sun and shield my eyes with one hand, looking for Greenie, Luke, my friends—I search for Jamie, too, but he is gone. So is Sam. But I feel sure that Greenie is right: I’ll have other chances to see Jamie and this possibility puts a smile on my face. Ash, Jada, my sister, and Luke stand talking, waiting for me by the stairs along the edge of the quad. I hesitate a moment, out on the courtyard, not quite ready to leave. Deep inside my soul I can feel things happening, stirring, big things,
good
things. Energy and excitement pulse through me. Father Mark’s comment about seeing me as a
wonderful surprise
repeats in my mind. That’s when I call out to everyone, letting them know that I’m back. That I’m ready.

“Let’s go,” I shout, and take off in a run.

IN THE EARLY QUIET OF THE SCHOOL DAY I TIPTOE THROUGH
the corridor on the balls of my feet. The windows to the courtyard are open wide, calling the breeze inside, and it swirls around my arms and legs. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Stand still for I don’t know how long. Ever since hearing the news about the contest, I veer between abandonment to utter joy and moments when I move as if I must not disturb anything, not even make a wrinkle in the air, as if the slightest stir might sink this buoy of goodness, this gift that seems not quite true or real.

Nearing my locker, I inhale, sharp. A white rectangle sticks to the chipped red surface, a tiny paper raft floating in a long rusty river. Forgetting the slow hesitancy my body has adopted this morning, I rush forward to see what’s there, bend down to read the envelope taped just above the lock.