My mom lets out a loud yawn.
I think Keeta takes this as a hint. “Thanks, Abbey, but I better go. I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”
“Gosh, sorry I’m so tired,” my mom says as she yawns again. “Long day, I guess. You can stay for a little bit, Keeta. I’m off to bed.”
This is the most shocking thing to come out of my mom’s mouth since she told me I was grounded, so I stare at her like she’s just told me it’s okay if I drop out of school and have six babies. “Are you sure?” I finally manage to ask.
“Yep, just don’t stay up too late.” Then my mom kisses my cheek. “’Night, Abbey Road,” she says, before walking down the hallway to her room.
I still have Keeta’s glass of water in my hand, but I’m frozen in place by the prospect of spending time with her in my house. And I might have stood there all night staring down the empty hallway if Keeta hadn’t walked over, removed the glass from my hands, and placed it down on the table. “So, is Kate all right?”
I step back from Keeta because my brain and heart are still having a bloody cagefight inside me. Plus, I totally expect my mom to run down the hall like the paparazzi and catch me and Keeta in an act of intimacy. Then I wonder what my mom would do if she saw us together. But I’ll have to worry about that later. Right now, I have more important matters at hand: Should I kiss Keeta or show her the door?
“Yeah, she’s fine now,” I say. “They got her appendix out just in time. The best part is we’re friends again. I really missed her.”
“I bet you did. A best friend is hard to come by.” Then that sneaky Keeta takes my hand in hers. “Amara?”
Don’t say that unless you mean it. “Yeah?”
“I already miss you so much.”
I look at my hand in hers and think about what Kate said—that when she was with Derrick, her whole world disappeared. Like me, she probably couldn’t see beyond his face, even though she knew what a jerk he was. And she knew she deserved better, but she also didn’t want to lose him, just like I don’t want to lose Keeta. But then I think about Keeta’s soft kisses and her arms around me and I forget all the lessons I’ve learned today.
“Abbey,” Keeta whispers, “it’s your call.” Then she gives me that look. The one I can never resist. The one that got me in this mess in the first place.
And I finally come to a decision.
“Come on,” I say and pull her down the hall by her T-shirt. “I guess it’s only fair if I show you my room, too.”
I shut and lock the door behind us, knowing this is probably the wrong thing to do, but I’m a big girl now and am willing to face the consequences.
I watch closely as Keeta glances around my giant spoiled-brat of a room, taking in glimpses of my cheesy life. I look around, too. The Beatles and Marilyn Monroe posters aren’t that bad, but the collection of rocks and the giant plant anatomy poster on the wall seem so nerdy. I quickly clean up my bedside table so as not to have her see any really embarrassing items, like pro/con lists about whether or not I should keep dating her.
Then she blows out a long, soft whistle. “You are a smarty-pants! Look at these grades,” she whispers.
I never took down my report cards from junior high like Kate had instructed, but I’m glad Keeta sees that I’m not some dumb blonde she can push around. “Yeah, that’s right. And you don’t have to whisper, my mom’s out cold thanks to Ambien.”
“You’ll probably get into any college you want, huh?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just middle school and I didn’t have a life, that’s all.” I plop down on my bed but then realize I shouldn’t be too presumptuous. Before I can get up, Keeta walks over to me and gently pushes me on my back, which is really what I was secretly hoping she’d do anyway.
She lies down next to me and plays with my hair, then my ear. I prepare for total body meltdown in ten…nine…eight…
“Amara?” she whispers.
Seven…six…five…four…“Yes, Keeta?” It’s like that horrible day never happened. It’s like we’ve never been apart.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t respectful of your time before. From now on”—she leans in and kisses my cheek—“I promise to let you do your homework without distraction from me.” She kisses her way slowly down to my neck. “You just tell me, ‘Keeta, I can’t see you. I have to study,’ and I will totally understand.” She reaches over and turns off the light. “Okay, mi amor?”
Three…two…one…total body meltdown complete. Zero signs of intelligent life present. So instead of answering her, I pull her body closer to mine.
We kiss and move to a rhythm only we can hear. My shirt is the first to go, and then her shirt gets tossed across the room, too. I love the feeling of our nearly naked bodies pressed together, but I think she knows I’m still not quite ready for the next step. So we enjoy each other like this for a while, and then she gives me one last kiss and holds me in her arms. As we lie there looking up at my glow-in-the-dark stars, I tell myself what I wish I could tell everyone else. Keeta does love me. She’s honest, kind, beautiful, and patient. She’s perfect.
*
“Are you insane?” Kate yells from her own canopy bed where she’ll have to stay for a few more days to recover. “With your mom in the next room?”
“Kate, it’s not like we did it or anything. Stop spazzing out on me.”
“What if your mom found you two in bed like that?”
“I locked the door. Besides, she didn’t find us, so what’s the big deal?” I wish I could take my secret back. I should’ve paced myself, since Kate and I are barely back on speaking terms. I should have known better than to bring up Keeta.
Kate rolls her eyes and takes another slurp of the soup her mom made for her. “This is so gross, Abbey. I need a fruit slushie. Make your mom stop at Eegee’s and get me one the next time you guys come over, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Don’t forget—half flavor of the month, half lemon.”
She covers the bowl with her napkin and frowns at it, which is my cue to take it away. “You know,” she says, “she’s going to break your heart. This whole ‘I like you, but I can’t commit’ thing is total bs, and I’m surprised you’re putting up with it.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. I mean, of course Kate is right. Of course, if I can’t have Keeta to myself, I’ll never be completely happy. But if I can have some of her, I might be sort of happy, and that feels better than utterly miserable.
“You just don’t get it,” I say, but I don’t want to fight, so I start over. “It’s just that I like spending time with her, too. So, why not enjoy what I can?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I guess you know what’s best for you. I’ll mind my own business then. But promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t lose yourself in her because, trust me, it’s really freakin’ hard to find your way back.”
Chapter Twenty-six
As Garrett and I warm up at Monday’s practice, I tell her about my Friday-night reunion with Keeta, and then how I snuck Keeta in my window Sunday night to hang out some more after my mom fell asleep.
But just like Kate, Garrett quickly questions my sanity. She makes a three-pointer and asks, “So, with one more week before you’re off being grounded, you risk it all?”
“Dude, I’m telling you, nothing wakes my mom up. So it’s cool. It’s like I have the whole place to myself after she pops that magic pill.”
She passes me the ball. I shoot a jump shot from the top of the key. I swish it, rebound the ball, and pass it to her.
“So I guess you’re over this whole Keeta-seeing-other-girls thing. That was quick.” She easily sinks another three-pointer. “Speaking of which, Stef called me yesterday.”
“Nice shot,” I say avoiding Garrett’s last statement. I pass the ball to her again.
“She’s fine, in case you were wondering.” She dribbles in for a layup and gets
her own rebound. “She asked about you, wondered if you were still stupid enough to be with Keeta.”
I steal the ball out of her hands and dribble to the three-point line. “And?” I shoot and completely air ball it.
“I told her you were, but I didn’t tell her you were a willing participant in Keeta’s harem, or whatever it is you guys have arranged.”
“Shut up, G. You’re the one who told me to go for it. Besides, it’s not that big a deal. I mean, when she’s with me, it’s just the two of us.” Then I almost tell her Keeta’s sneaking over again tonight, but Garrett seems annoyed with the topic, so I keep it to myself.
Coach Riley calls us to the baseline, and we line up for our final day of torture. I can’t believe it’s all coming to an end. Who knew playing this game would mean so much to me? It’s like every time I slip on that polyester jersey and walk onto the hardwood court, I feel right at home. Sure, my freshman year isn’t over, but I feel like a totally different person already. Suddenly, being tall is a gift, not a curse that makes buying pants impossible. I feel a little more graceful and a little more confident every time I walk onto this court and through the halls of Gila. I guess Kate didn’t have to worry after all. I mean, look at me now: push-up bra, lip gloss, sort-of girlfriend, playing basketball, and having fun. I totally own this freshman year.
*
My mom enters the kitchen with an armload of groceries. “You’re starting on your homework already?”
“I know it’s hard to believe,” I say, but what I don’t say is I’m in a hurry so I can entertain my lesbian love muffin tonight while my mom slumbers.
My apparent diligence pays off, too, because for the first time in weeks, part of her after-school greeting doesn’t include, “Where’s your stamped library card?” Instead, she says, “You want a snack?”
“Mmm, yes please. I’m starving.” I’m not sure when the growth spurts will stop, but at this rate I’m going to be the first girl at Gila High to dunk.
She makes me a PB and J sandwich and places it in front of me. Then she asks, “You want to catch a movie tonight? I think there’s a new comedy playing at the Rio.”
I bite an extra-big piece of my sandwich so I can think up a better response than, “Oh, sorry, Mom. My secret non-girlfriend is sneaking over tonight to make out with me for a while.” But the best thing I can come up with is, “Thanks, Mom, but I think I’ll go to bed early tonight. You know, since tomorrow’s our last game and all.”
She smiles and says, “Oh, okay,” but I recognize that sad look in her eyes, which means I feel horrible.
“Maybe next week?” I say.
“Sure, honey.” She pats my head and leaves me to my mountain of homework and guilt. I’m a bad, bad, bad daughter…again.
I get over the guilt surprisingly fast and, after dinner, I draw myself a bath. I want to smell delicious for Keeta, so I pour in three extra capfuls of cucumber-melon bubble bath, which causes such an overflow of bubbles that I have to spend twenty minutes trying to wash them down the drain when I’m done. Then I brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out two times with extra strength minty mouthwash. The evening is going to be perfect.
But by the time eleven o’clock rolls around, I’m already tired of practicing my surprised happy look that I’m going to have when Keeta taps on my window to be let in. And by the time eleven thirty rolls around, I’m tired of sitting upright in bed so as not to mess up my perfectly brushed hair. And at midnight, I’m just plain tired. Since I’ve been grounded for so long, I’ve gotten used to going to bed at ten every night. I think I finally pass out at around one o’clock.
*
When I wake up at six o’clock this morning, my hair is a mess, my breath is back to normal, and my face has that greasy sheen that I’m unfortunately becoming accustomed to as I progress in my teen years. I roll over, just to make sure, but my bed is empty and the window closed.
I hate myself for falling asleep. What if she came by and I didn’t hear her? What if she stood out in the cold, dark night wondering what she did to be treated so badly? Then I wonder if she ever came by at all.
I rush through my usual routine and call Jenn to cancel my morning pickup. I don’t want Keeta to get the slightest impression that I’ve blown her off. So I bundle up in a couple of sweatshirts, jump on my bike, and ride to school to wait for Keeta.
I’m sitting on the curb in front of the performance hall freezing my butt off and rehearsing my apology when I see Keeta get out of a car that isn’t Tai’s. Then Osiris gets out and takes off for the main hall. I’m suddenly no longer cold.
Keeta sees me and walks over. “Hey, you,” she says and then sits down on the steps and puts her arm around me to pull me closer. I let her, too, but I refuse to look at her. She doesn’t even say anything like, I’m sorry I’m such a self-centered hoochie-mama bitch. She just sits there, like we’re waiting for a fireworks show to start. So I finally speak. “Keeta, why didn’t you come over?”
She hugs me closer. “I’m sorry. Something came up and I couldn’t call your cell since your mom had it.”
I only halfway believe her. “Fine, but where were you?” Keeta doesn’t get a chance to answer before I ask my next question. “With her, right?” I shrug off her arm and turn my back to her.
Then Keeta says, “Amara, she just gave me a ride to school, I swear. Come on, I’ll make last night up to you, okay?”
She could be telling the truth about Osiris, but it seems unlikely. That’s when I realize I have two choices: let it go, or let Keeta go. The decision seems too grown up for me, and I miss the days when all I had to think about was what game to bring to Kate’s house for our slumber party. I listen to the desert birds wake up and watch the sun illuminate the campus, turning everything pink. I make a decision then, one I know I might regret.
“Well,” I say and force a smile on my face, “you owe me big time, you jerk. I even took a bubble bath for you.”
“Oh, man, are you serious? I missed that? Okay, I promise I’ll make it up to you. What are you doing Saturday night?”
“Going to the movies with Kate.” My mention of Kate’s name instantly reminds me of her wise words: Keeta’s just going to end up breaking your heart in the end.
“And after that?” Keeta starts playing with my hair with one hand and slyly slips her other hand up my sweatshirt.
“God, your hand feels like a popsicle,” I say, pushing her off me, but in a playful way. “Anyway, after going to the movies with Kate, I think I’ll be hitting the clubs. You know, I’m a really big deal around here.”
She rests her chin on my shoulder and sighs. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
Students are starting to take over campus like an army of ants and I don’t feel like dealing with their stares, so I get up and stand over Keeta. “I’ll check my schedule, Ms. Moreno, and have my people get back to you.”
She holds her hand to her heart and falls back onto the gum-splattered entrance of the performance hall. “Oh, you’re cruel, but I deserve it.” By the time she sits up again, I’m already half way across the courtyard. “I’ll wait for your call like a humble servant,” she shouts.
I look over my shoulder and flash her a confident, movie-star smile then head to class.
*
Our last game is against Saguaro again, but this time we’re on their court. I’ve learned there’s something wonderful about beating a team on their own turf, so I’m looking forward to pummeling them. This is the team with The Fridge and the team with all of Keeta’s ex-flings, so I want to seriously kick their butts. And maybe I’ll impress Keeta so much tonight she’ll forget about all the other girls and make me her one and only. You never know, it could happen.
In the first quarter, I score five baskets and make The Fridge foul me three times. I only miss one out of six free throws, and Riley actually looks proud. I look up to see if Keeta sees me and smile when she and Tai give two thumbs up for my performance. But Saguar
o is scoring big time, too. Without Stef, our best outside shooter, they’re able to keep up without any problems.
“Time to run Dust Devil,” coach says at the halftime locker-room meeting.
There’s a serious hush in the room. Dust Devil is an offensive play that’s a thousand times more complicated than conjugating irregular verbs in Spanish. But we’ve practiced it so much that when I’m not dreaming about my dad or Keeta, I’m dreaming about this play.
“Garrett, you’re going to take the three when it’s there. I saw you practicing yesterday. I know you can do it.” Then Coach points to me. “Abbey, if Garrett misses, I better not see any girl wearing red getting that ball. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Natalie, look inside for Abbey and Tori, and don’t forget to look weak side. We can win this, ladies, but only if you want it. Do you want it?”
“Yeah!” we shout in unison.
“I can’t hear you,” he yells back.
“Yeah!” we scream again.
“Hands in!”
We squish together and put our hands in the middle. One look around the circle and I know we have the game in the bag. My teammates have never looked so determined.
With Dust Devil in full swing, the second half of the game is so much better than the first. Every time Saguaro scores two points, we come back with a quick jump shot or three-pointer from downtown. Seriously, Garrett’s threes are sinking like she’s just kicking it at home, tossing a pair of socks in the laundry hamper.
And if anyone does miss a shot, I snag every rebound I can. Then, once the ball is in my hands, the only thing I have to decide is if I’m going to turn and shoot, dribble in for a layup, or pump fake and pass to Tori or Eva. Though The Fridge keeps trying to knock me down, not even she can keep me from scoring tonight. And, thanks to the ref’s new ability to actually see what’s going on, The Fridge fouls out at the end of the third quarter. Maybe it’s the reputation I got from the last time we played, or maybe it’s my purplish-greenish-yellowish bruised eye, but it feels like everyone is letting me do what I want out here, and I’m loving it. Being in control of the court is almost as good as being in control of my love life.
Freshman Year Page 24