I led Dad and Jackie over to her. “How did you end up getting these seats?”
She smiled. “I told everyone that my mother was coming, and she was bringing a congressman from Virginia. So if anyone asks, your dad is a Democrat from Fairfax.”
I laughed. “Dad, this is my friend, Sarah Gamble.”
Dad shook Sarah’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said over the crowd. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Sarah slyly glanced at me. I knew she was wondering if I had told Dad about her pregnancy.
“I told Dad how much better you’re getting at trig,” I said. “I haven’t told him about your problems with geometry.”
Sarah nodded. “Your daughter is a great person,” she said to Dad. “She’s one of my best friends.”
As Jackie introduced herself, I searched the floor for David. I finally saw him, just as he was charging toward the basket. As handsome as he looked up close, he looked just as good running across the floor, with his light brown legs pumping like the pistons in a muscle car. Every time he released the ball, his stroke was flawless. Whoever coined the term “poetry in motion” must have seen him play basketball.
“What are you staring at?” Dad yelled in my ear.
I shifted my gaze away from the court. “Nothing in particular.”
I wasn’t sure if Dad believed me or not. He just nodded and went back to watching the warm-ups.
As much as I wanted to pretend that he didn’t exist, I eventually caught sight of Christopher. He was just as attractive, if not more so, than David. Looking at Christopher, you couldn’t fault anyone for falling for him the way I did.
After a few more minutes, the game started. It was a pretty close first half. Every time our guys scored, everyone in our section of the bleachers jumped up and screamed at the top of their lungs. Whenever David made a basket, I gave a little more pizzazz to my cheer. And when Christopher scored, I barely clapped and forced myself not to frown.
Throughout the game, I could feel Dad’s gaze on me. He was almost watching me more than he was watching the game. What he was looking for, I wasn’t sure. Maybe he could tell I was cheering a little bit too much for David. I did notice that when Christopher scored, Dad didn’t cheer at all. Actually, every time Christopher touched the ball, Dad looked like he wanted to jump onto the court and strangle him.
Halftime came and Dad left to get some popcorn. I was tempted to follow him to make sure he wasn’t sneaking off to the locker room to beat Christopher into a bloody pulp.
“I love your sweater,” Jackie said.
I turned to Jackie. Was this her lame attempt to connect with me?
“Thanks.”
Jackie continued on, ignoring the flatness in my voice. “To be honest, I’m not a big fan of basketball.”
I frowned. What did Dad see in her? Any woman that didn’t like sports was a woman that didn’t need to be with my father.
“Then why do you go to games with him?”
“With your schedule, your father says he doesn’t have anyone else to go with.”
My schedule?
I shrugged. “I’ll have to remember to pencil Dad in,” I said, in the most sarcastic way possible.
Jackie didn’t have very long to sit there looking uncomfortable before Dad reappeared. He sat down and wrapped his arms around her. It was sweltering in that gym, yet he still felt compelled to smother her. I didn’t know whether to be angry or jealous.
Halftime ended and the game continued at the same frenzied pace as the first half. As I cheered, I started to remember how much I loved going to games. For me, watching basketball was just as exciting as actually playing myself. I got an adrenaline rush just by looking at the players scramble for loose balls.
Sometime during the course of the second half, Dad managed to dislodge Jackie from under his arm and talk to me.
“Our center has to do a better job defending the lane,” he said.
“I know. We’re giving up too many rebounds.”
Dad jumped up as the center leapt for the ball. “Get on the boards!” he yelled to the court.
“Box out!” I screamed.
The center did as we instructed, and got the rebound. He shot an outlet pass to a streaking David Gamble. David easily banked the ball off the backboard and into our basket.
Dad smiled and gave me a high-five. Those few words we shared happened to be the best conversation we had had in three years.
Our guys started pulling away in the final five minutes, so the game was very anticlimactic during the last few possessions. But we were going to win, which was the most important thing. And I had my father back, for at least a few minutes.
Then the buzzer sounded, the game ended, and Dad slipped back into his usual self.
“What time is this party over?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Around twelve.”
“Who’s throwing it?”
“One of the girls in my class,” I said.
He peered down at me and folded his arms.
“Julie Potts,” I said. “She’s class president.”
Julie and I weren’t great friends, but we got along pretty well. She was the type of person that could invite anyone to her party and make them feel welcome.
I had told Dad all the particulars about the party beforehand. For a fairly intelligent man, it was amazing how quickly he forgot things. He was probably too busy thinking about Jackie instead of listening to me when I talked to him about the party earlier that week. The only reason he allowed me to go was because he knew Julie’s parents.
Jackie leaned closer to Dad and wrapped her fingers through his. “She’s eighteen,” she whispered. “She’ll be okay.”
What was this? The Teeny Bopper was actually taking up for me. Knowing her, she just wanted to have a quiet night with Dad all to herself, without me around.
Dad snorted as he looked back at me. “Be home by eleven.”
“Samuel,” Jackie cooed. “The party doesn’t end until twelve. At least let Rhonda stay until the end of the party.”
Dad chewed on his lip for a second, before nodding. “A quarter after twelve,” he instructed. “Not a minute later.”
Now, at this point, most normal daughters and fathers would have hugged and had a picture-perfect moment. Dad and I weren’t quite there, however. He just patted my shoulder, and that was the extent of our father-daughter connection.
Seconds after Dad and Jackie left the gym, Sarah turned to me. “Wow. You said your Dad could be strict, but I didn’t think he was going to grill you like that,” she said. “Do you think he’ll freak out once you tell him I’m pregnant?”
I nodded. “He’ll probably think I’ll get pregnant, too. Like it’s a disease you can catch from close contact.”
She laughed. “You can catch it from close contact, although it’s a lot closer than you and I will ever be.”
Sarah and I left the gym, grabbed a burger, and headed to Julie Potts’ house. I felt like I was in seventh grade and was going to my first school dance. I was going to rub the skin off my hands if I wrung them together any more.
Sarah parked behind the long row of cars piled up along the side of the road. The Potts’ closest neighbors were almost a quarter of a mile away, so there would be no complaints about noise. We wrapped ourselves in our coats and briskly walked to the front door.
“Hey, Julie,” I said as she opened the door.
Julie had a smile as sweet as Sarah’s. However, she had enough makeup on to pose as a mime. She wore a sleeveless, V-cut blouse that plunged a little too deeply.
“Come on in,” Julie said, her short, brunette hair bouncing as she talked. “Soda and punch are in the kitchen if you’re not drinking alcohol. The beer is in the tub of ice on the floor. If you’re
going to smoke, do it outside.”
I stared at the open can of beer in her hand. “But … I thought you said your parents were going to be here?”
“Of course that’s what I said. That’s what we always say when we’re throwing a party.” Julie laughed. “My parents are vacationing at Hilton Head this weekend. But don’t worry, they left a chaperone.” She nodded toward the corner, and I followed her gaze. Darryl Potts, her older brother, sat on the recliner.
Darryl was a junior at college. At least, he used to be a junior, before he got kicked out. Supposedly, twelve-year-olds could get better grades in college than he could.
Darryl and Christopher played on the basketball team together my freshman year and ended up becoming very good friends. The only reason I disliked Christopher more than Darryl was because Christopher was the one that got me pregnant. Other than that, they were both equals in asinine behavior.
The house was already starting to fill with people. I could hear even more people in the backyard. The music was blasting in the den—and I had to stop myself from rocking to the beat. This was not a party we should have been at.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said.
Sarah was busy waving at some people on the couch, so I wasn’t sure if she even heard me. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“I think we should go,” I said.
That got her attention. “Why?”
I looked around quickly before pointing to her stomach. “Babies don’t do so well around smoke and alcohol, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop acting like such a prude,” she said. “You used to drink all the time.”
I set my jaw. “That was a long time ago. I’m a different person now.”
Sarah smiled at me. “I’m not an idiot, Rhonda. I won’t go near the alcohol. I’ll drink punch all night.”
“Sarah … ”
“And as long as I don’t go outside, I won’t be around smoke.” She batted her eyes at me. “I only want to stay a few minutes.”
“I don’t know—”
“Guess who just came in.”
I turned to the door to see David walking into the house. I was all smiles, until I saw Christopher strutting in behind him. Johnnie Chang rounded out the bunch.
Before they could take off their coats, they were surrounded by a mob of students. Each of the guys had had a great game that night, and were deserving of all the accolades being heaped upon them. I tried not to notice all of the half-drunk, half-naked girls that were wrapping their arms around David.
I turned back to Sarah, but she had already disappeared. I thought about going to talk to David, but I would have had to fight through the horde just to get near him.
As I inched back against the wall and tried to blend in with the wallpaper, Johnnie Chang broke through the crowd and made his way over to me. Why he was coming my way, I didn’t know. I hadn’t spoken to him five times that semester.
“Hey, Rhonda,” he said. “How’s it going?”
Even though Johnnie lived in one of the worst areas of the city (he was one of the few scholarship kids at Piedmont), you couldn’t tell by his speech. His family immigrated to America when he was a child, and his parents had made sure that he spoke immaculate English. He didn’t even have an accent.
I finally got over the shock of him speaking to me. “I’m okay,” I mumbled.
He popped open a can of beer and took a long swig. “Sarah said that you two would probably be coming to the game.” He grinned. “You both look pretty good tonight.”
I tensed up. Was he trying to pick me up? Had Christopher said something to Johnnie to make him think I was easy?
Before Johnnie could say anything else, someone called to him from across the room. When he turned away, I made my great escape to the kitchen. I had hoped to find Sarah there. Instead, as I entered the room, I bumped into the devil himself.
Christopher stumbled backward a few steps, causing the huge silver crucifix hanging around his neck to bounce against his chest. He looked amused as he downed the rest of the beer in his clear plastic cup.
“Rhonda,” Christopher slurred. Although he was an arm’s length away from me, I could still feel his hot, alcohol-laced breath as it hit my face. “Darryl said he thought he saw you here.” He looked me up and down, and I wanted to immediately take a hot shower. “You look good,” he said, stretching three syllables into seven.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?”
He shrugged. “The usual.”
Back when we were dating, the “usual” was at minimum three beers. Based on the slur in his voice, he had decided to up his limit.
“Hey, let me grab another beer, and let’s talk for a minute.” He winked. “You remember how much we used to talk back in the day.”
Christopher was trying to get me riled up. And it was working almost too well.
“You’re drunk,” I said. “Find someone else to harass.”
He flashed me a crooked smile. “Do you remember that thing you used to do that I liked so much?” Christopher inched closer. I knew if he took one more step, I was going to kick him in the nuts so hard, he’d be coughing up testosterone all month.
I was praying he would come nearer.
As if on cue, Christopher stumbled closer to me. I planted my right foot and brought my left foot back—ready to kick the field goal of the century. But before I could follow through, David walked up to us.
“Christopher,” David said, stepping between us. “A couple of girls are upstairs looking for you.”
Christopher looked at me as he talked to David. “How do they look?”
“Does it matter?” he replied.
Christopher grinned and finally peeled his eyes off me. He disappeared from the kitchen, but not before grabbing a beer from the tub on the floor.
I crossed my arms and stared at David. My foot was still cocked and ready to unload, but David had scared away my target.
“Why do you look so mad?” he asked.
“I’m not a helpless girl that needs to be rescued.” I finally relaxed my foot. “I can take care of myself.”
“I was going for ‘thanks,’ but I guess that’ll have to do.”
I had to admit, I was a little flattered that David’s protective halo extended from Sarah and included me as well. I didn’t want his protection, but I didn’t mind his company. Plus, his breath didn’t have a hint of alcohol on it. It smelled like mint and white chocolate.
He leaned into me and kicked my sensory glands into overdrive. “If it makes you feel better, I came to rescue Christopher, not you. I can’t have you beating up the best player on the basketball team, even if he is an asshole.”
“What makes you think I was going to hurt him?”
He tapped his finger lightly on my lips. “You had a scowl on your face worse than anything I’ve ever seen.”
“You can scowl pretty bad as well.”
“I know. But if you’ve noticed, I’ve been smiling a lot more lately.”
I fanned myself. My heart was thumping louder than the music.
“What do you think about the party?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It’s great, if you like hanging around guys that just want to grope you and girls that are so drunk they’re about to puke on themselves.” I sighed. “It’s parties like this that remind me why I swore off dating.”
“Well, maybe I can change your mind,” he said.
“About parties?”
He smiled. “No, about dating.”
Damn, he’s smooth. I tugged at my sweater and readjusted my glasses. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you hated parties.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because you�
�re here.”
David may not have known it, but it was at that instant I fell in love with him.
He took my hand. “Do you want to dance?”
I nodded. I couldn’t have resisted him if I wanted to.
As I followed David into the den, I noticed Sarah out of the corner of my eye, heading toward the kitchen. She flashed me a smile and winked. Good luck, she mouthed.
I was grinning too hard to reply back.
David led me to the middle of the room. The song had an up-tempo beat, but neither of us tried to dance too fast. I liked the way he stretched his arms out as he danced, like he was reaching to the sky for divine intervention. We gravitated toward each other—our bodies were close enough for the heat of his skin to jump onto mine. My chest would brush against his every so often. If he didn’t mind the contact, I didn’t either.
The song ended much too soon, before being replaced with a slow, soulful love song. Both of us lingered in the middle of the floor for a few seconds. I damn sure didn’t want to stop dancing. I had forgotten how good it felt.
David reached out and pulled me to him. His arms wrapped around my body, his hands settled in the small of my back, and he began to sway. My body rocked along with his, like I was an extension of his torso.
I was falling for David—no, I had already fallen for him. I tried to push away the fragments of suspicion and self-doubt that were beginning to pop into my head. I could overanalyze the mess I was getting myself into later. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the moment.
“That was nice,” he said after the song ended.
“Yeah,” I whispered back.
He licked his lips as he looked at me. Was this the part where he was going to kiss me?
“I’m thirsty,” he said. “You want a soda?”
I sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Actually, I want punch.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “Not unless you want to drink a cup of Everclear.”
My Life as a Rhombus Page 10