Rocks and Stars

by Sam Ledel

  I grimace at the memory of me spotting Joey and shoving through the heavy back door next to my room before hiding behind the dumpster with my toothbrush for twenty minutes.

  “I may have panicked a bit.”

  “And we had conditioning three days last week, so there were a few days in there when I didn’t really see you at all,” Joey adds.

  “We’ve hung out at practice,” I offer, knowing this isn’t what she’s looking for.

  “Sure,” she says, still watching me. “And while that’s been great, I thought that…well, I thought that you and I were friends. Or at least were going to be friends. I love the team and all, but you are, like, the least weird girl out of the rest of our freshman class. Although that tangent you just went on about rocks kind of makes me second-guess that.”

  We both grin. “Gee, thanks.”

  She gives my arm that’s resting on the table a playful shove. “I’m kidding. But seriously, Kyle. I like you.” My eyes flutter back down and I swallow. Joey must sense my unease because she quickly says, “As a friend. I like you…as a friend.” The tone in her voice, though, makes me think that other words were trying to make their way out instead.

  “I like you, too, Joey.”

  “And, look, I know you’d never kissed a girl before that night. And that’s totally fine. And, well, I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t enjoy it,” she pauses, catching my gaze, “but I don’t want to start ourselves off on muddled footing.” I nod, my ears hot. I briefly wonder if the cooks are listening. Joey looks down, fiddling with the banana peel. She swallows before she says, “I am curious, though. Did…um…did you have fun that night?”

  Her uncertainty is kind of adorable, and the anxious feeling in my stomach quells. When I first met Joey, I could tell that she was confident. She has to be, I suppose, to be a goalie. They’re the last line; all that’s left standing between the opposing team and the ball hitting the back of the net. And that self-confidence was evident from the moment I met her. But this Joey: the stammering, nervous Joey?

  She’s pretty darn cute.

  I smile when her eyes finally flicker up to meet mine. “I did have fun,” I tell her, and I swear her whole body relaxes.

  “Good,” she says. “You, um…maybe want to hang out later? Not like that,” she adds at my raised brow. “No lava lamp included.”

  I laugh. There’s something hopeful in the bright smile she gives me. My heart rate picks up as I take in her clear eyes and the curve of her nose. I find myself wondering if she always wakes up this beautiful. Then my mind flashes back to that night. I can feel her hands cupping my face, her lips against mine, and her tongue slick against my mouth…

  “Kyle?”

  I blink, realizing I’d been staring out the window. My body is hot and my heart pounds. Hold on. This is scary. What am I thinking? There is no way I’m ready for this. Or for what it could be. Joey is amazing. And stunning. But I’m not even out yet. Nobody here aside from Emily knows that part of me. I just started at this school. And here is this ridiculously amazing girl next to me telling me…what is she telling me? That she wants to be friends? Can we just be friends after a night like that? It was…I don’t really know what it was. Confusing. Fun. Surreal. Breathtaking.

  I look back at Joey, whose right foot bounces slightly against the floor.

  What if, at some point, she wants that part of me I’m not ready to give?

  “I can’t.”

  “I’m sorry?” asks Joey, her foot stopping.

  I shift in my chair to face her. “I can’t,” I say again. “I mean…yes, I want to be friends and hang out. But that kiss. That whole night…” Her brow raises expectantly. “It was…a lot. And I’m still not sure I’ve fully processed everything from that night. And you are so amazing. But…”

  Her brow furrows, but her face relaxes a second later, her confidence at the forefront. “But I should make sure you and I aren’t alone in a room together for a while, huh?”

  I stare at her and she winks. Then I exhale. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Joey.”

  She shrugs.

  I reach out and rest my hand on top of hers. “We’re friends, though, right?”

  Her eyes flicker from our hands to my gaze. “Of course. I mean, we’re teammates, dorm mates…of course we’re friends.”

  “Good.” I pull my hand back and take one last drink from my OJ. My heart is still pounding and I take a deep breath to calm myself down. I’m grateful for Joey’s acceptance at my attempt to explain myself. She really is amazing. I stand up. “Walk with me back to the rooms?”

  Joey clears her throat, then stands. She flourishes her arm and smiles. “After you, short stack.”

  Chapter Ten

  “All right. PK time, ladies. Line up.”

  I grab the closest ball and jog over to the line forming just outside the goalie box. It’s been a few days since the conversation with Joey, and things have settled back into a normal rhythm. I don’t run away anymore when I see her in the hallways, so that’s progress. We even walked to classes together on Tuesday. And practices, if possible, are even better since we’ve cleared the air about things. I scan the net, still congratulating myself on handling things pretty maturely, when somebody is suddenly standing very close behind me.

  “Nervous?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and the inevitable flush flies to my face. “Should I be?” I stammer.

  Jax slides out from where she’d been behind me. Now perpendicular to me, she places her hands on her hips. My eyes fight to stay focused on hers as I swear she pushes her chest forward. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Our first game is next week. Coach is evaluating everybody. Who’s gonna start? Who’s going to be keeping that bench warm?” she adds in a voice I can only label as “laced with innuendo” while she simultaneously lowers her gaze to my hips.

  I shift forward as the line moves. “Are you saying I won’t cut it because I’m a freshman?”

  “No, not at all,” she replies, juggling a ball between her feet. “I’m only saying”—she kicks the ball up and catches it inches from my face—“don’t screw up.” Then she winks and strolls to the back of the line, leaving me wondering just who this girl is and why she keeps talking to me.

  My thoughts quickly shift and panic washes over me. Wait, does she know? How could she know? Did Emily say something to her about me? Did she hear about the party—about what happened between Joey and me? Emily swore she wouldn’t say anything. Oh, God, Jax knows.

  “Kyle, you’re up!”

  I’m pulled from my thoughts as Coach blows her whistle. I blink a couple of times. Finally, I regain my focus. Joey stands across from me, bouncing on her toes in the goal box with her arms stretched out.

  “Yeah, Kyle!” she calls while I place the ball on the PK spot. “I’m growing old over here.”

  I back up, but my thoughts still have a hold on me. Jax was definitely flirting. That’s not so bad, right? I probably need the practice. But the idea alone makes my stomach flip-flop. I barely register the go-ahead whistle before starting forward. My movements are stiff and automatic, like a windshield wiper sprung to life.

  I grimace and watch as the ball sails two feet over the right goalpost. When I look behind me, Jax is grinning. I groan beneath my breath.

  Maybe things aren’t as worked out as I thought they were.

  Chapter Eleven

  I carefully set the chilled armful of energy drinks down on top of my mini-fridge when there’s a knock on my door. I skip over and open it a few inches before running back to my computer where the practice sessions from my Spanish class are finishing their download.

  “Hey, Em,” I call over my shoulder, “sorry, just a sec. I’m finishing up this program installation that Professor Jimenez gave us. It’s been downloading for over an hour, but I think it’s just about done.” I walk over to the plastic Quick-E-Mart bag on my bed and pull out the snacks I’d bought earlier that day. “And I picked u
p some studying essentials for us. Fruit, granola bars, and a family-sized bag of Doritos for when we’re feeling especially depraved.” I turn to Emily, proudly holding up the giant bag of chips.

  What I expect to see after Emily had agreed to help me study for my first Spanish exam is something more akin to what I am currently wearing: sweatpants, crew socks, an old practice T-shirt, and a messy ponytail. Instead, she is in a knee-length black skirt and a simple white sleeveless blouse. She has on eye makeup behind her red horn-rimmed glasses, and her black curls are set perfectly, falling gently to her shoulders. A trace of red lipstick makes her look almost glamorous, her brown complexion glowing.

  “Um, Emily, I did mention that we’d be staying in to study, right?”

  She looks both guilty and excited when she says, “I know, Kyle, I know; oh, gosh I’m so sorry.” She nervously adjusts the red purse on her shoulder. “I was so ready to study with you tonight. I really was. But around four o’clock, Alex called me.”

  I raise an eyebrow, and she holds up a hand before I reply. “I know, hear me out. Okay, you know I like him. A lot. And he’s always super busy between his work and studying and everything. And I’m busy, too, with soccer, as you know. But he called earlier and invited me to this Art Walk tour the university is hosting tonight. It’s over on Conrad Street, where those warehouses have been converted into breweries? Well, he told me he and his friends have a few pieces in the Walk, and he hoped to introduce me to more of his art group and show me his work.” As Emily talks, her face lights up the longer she goes on about Alex. Her excitement is contagious. “Would you hate me if I went with him tonight?” she says, her face apologetic. “I can come over first thing tomorrow. We’ll go over everything!”

  “It’s fine, Em. Seriously,” I add at her imploring look. Then I laugh. “The puppy eyes are not necessary. Really. I can go over everything on my own. Go, have fun.”

  She actually jumps and yells, “Yay! Oh, Kyle, thank you so much.” Then she runs over and pulls me into a hug before hurrying back to the open doorway. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  I prop myself up on my bed, one leg pulled up close to me. “You better.”

  Just as she’s about to go, shouts come from down the hallway. We both turn toward the noise.

  “Katie, how many times have I told you that if you’re going to do laundry in the bathroom, please do not hang your boyfriend’s jockstrap where I can see it!”

  Through my open doorway, Joey appears near the other end of the hallway, just outside the bathroom. Her hair is a darker red, still wet from a recent shower. She’s in athletic shorts and a fitted black T-shirt. I realize I’m biting my lip when Emily suddenly spins around. Her face is something between Christmas morning and a state championship victory before she says, “Wait, doesn’t Joey take Spanish?”

  “Um, well, yes, but, Em, wait—”

  Before I can stop her, Emily sprints off down the hallway.

  I stare wide-eyed as she skips toward Joey, and I run a hand through my ponytail, loose strands falling over my eyes as a result. I hadn’t told Emily about my cafeteria conversation with Joey yet—something I am now quickly regretting. She knows about the kiss, and she knows I’m being tight-lipped about my feelings, but I hadn’t had the guts to share the “let’s be friends since we made out but I’m terrified of what it all means” conversation from last weekend.

  I watch Emily, whose back is to me as the conversation with Joey continues. Then Joey glances up and meets my gaze, and it seems that, for a moment, she shares my hesitation.

  My thoughts are interrupted when Emily is back in the doorway, Joey standing behind her.

  “Problem solved!” Emily says, beaming proudly. “Joey is in Spanish II, the one you’ll take next semester, and she even has Professor Jimenez on Tuesday/Thursdays! After a little encouragement, I got her to agree to help you study.” She says all of this with a huge smile and flourishing hands, like she’s just completed a tap number in a musical.

  “You really don’t have to. It’s Saturday night. I’m sure you have better places to be.”

  Joey shrugs, her clear eyes holding mine. “It’s not a problem, short stack. I was just going to marathon some TV while pretending to read for Government. Nothing terribly exciting.”

  “Perfect then!” Emily says, gleefully nudging Joey farther into the room while she edges herself between the hallway and the door, which she starts to close. Her head is all that pokes through the doorway when she sings, “I’ll see you guys later!”

  I swear she winks when Joey turns to face me. My mouth falls open a little, and all I can do is wave before Emily closes the door and is gone.

  * * *

  “Personally, I think we’ve done pretty well so far. And my hands are only a little shaky from the stuff you keep insisting we guzzle down.”

  “Hey, I’m not forcing you,” I say and throw the final drops of my energy drink back, then squeeze the can until it’s dented. I toss it into the trash bin near my bed. It may be due to the borderline-dangerous levels of caffeine surging through my veins over the last three hours, but it seems laughable now how worried I was earlier. What was I so concerned about when Emily suggested Joey as my study partner? I reach for another handful of Doritos next to the clock reading 10:37 on my desk. This has actually been enjoyable. And helpful. Joey, I didn’t know, has taken Spanish since elementary school; her parents had enrolled her in a quirky little hands-on primary school that immersed kids in foreign languages earlier than most. And while she claims to not know much, I couldn’t ignore how much she seems to enjoy speaking it while simultaneously watching me fumble over rolling my R’s.

  “Besides,” I add, bouncing a little on my bed, “the caffeine is keeping us awake. And I feel like it’s helping!”

  “Just try not to shoot out into the hallway, and I think we’ll be fine,” she says, one hand patting my bouncing knee. I unsuccessfully try to sit still.

  “Okay, moving on. We’ve gone over family member pronouns, common weekend activities…What else did you say the exam will cover?”

  I wipe my hands on a paper towel lying at the edge of my bed. Joey and I have parked it on top of my dark blue comforter since Emily left. She sits with her back against the same wall the length of my bed is flush against, her long legs stretched out in front of her while she shuffles through my textbook. I, meanwhile, am cross-legged next to my pillows. Admittedly, I was a little nervous when she so casually hopped up and made herself comfortable. I had made sure there was sufficient space between us when we started. But as time passed and I was actually remembering things from class thanks to her, I relaxed. Studying with Joey was actually productive.

  “Um, let me check my notebook.” I frown, scanning the cluttered comforter. “Where is my notebook?” We both lift papers and pillows until my eyes raise to the shelf about a foot above our heads. Sitting with one corner dangling off the edge is my yellow Spanish notebook. “Aha.” I reach up, leaning forward a little. My right arm strains, but my fingers only manage to brush the edge of it, and I actually push it farther onto the shelf.

  “Hold on, let me get it,” Joey says. She pushes herself up a little, her long arm reaching up.

  “I got it,” I insist, still straining my arm, “really.”

  “Kyle, let the tall people have their moments,” she says with a grin. My gaze, which had been concentrated on the shelf, falls down to her. Thanks to our notebook rescue mission, we have both shifted forward. Now Joey is only a few breaths away from my face when our eyes meet. My hand has found the top of the shelf, and my fingers crawl along the edge to grab the journal. At the same time, Joey’s hand lands on top of mine. We sit like this for a moment, my breath quickening. Her gaze moves up to the notebook, and my eyes rove over her neck. Some of the hair is still wet and curled gently behind her ear from her shower earlier. The V-neck cut of her shirt leaves her collarbone exposed. I never noticed how smooth her skin is.

  “Here we go.” Jo
ey lowers the journal back onto the bed.

  “Thanks.” I’m about to reach out my other hand—I’m not sure to where, but it suddenly aches to touch that collarbone. Just as I’m about to, Joey clears her throat and nudges the journal toward me.

  “Is that one of your dad’s Christmas gifts?” She nods back up toward the shelf, but her eyes stay fixed on my sheets.

  My eyes flutter, and I take a deep breath. I glance up. “Oh, yeah.” I point to the thick book on black holes sitting below a picture of me and Kevin. “Birthday present, actually.” It’s quiet for a moment. Focus, Kyle. Flipping the pages, I scan my notebook with class notes scrawled through it. “I think the last section we covered was body parts.”

  Joey nods, her gaze still anywhere but on me. “Got it. So, what do you know?”

  I sit up and tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear. “I know cabeza. Mostly because it rhymes with cerveza.”

  “Really?” She shoots me a look of disbelief, but I shrug.

  “Whatever works, right?”

  “I guess so,” she says. My eyes linger on her for a moment. Since our study session began, I couldn’t help but notice that Joey has seemed guarded. She is friendly, as usual, and doesn’t hold back on sending sarcastic remarks my way regarding my choice in study music or dorm décor. But ever since we started, it’s like she can’t bring herself to look at me for more than a second.

  “Um,” I mumble, “I think I may have drifted off a bit when Jimenez covered that topic.” I flash her a page from my notebook that has “Body Parts” in bold title letters and nothing but blank lines beneath it.

  Joey’s eyebrows raise, but she just nods. “Okay, then. We’ve got our work cut out for us.” I dip my head sheepishly before she adds, “Better open up one more of those drinks.”