The Summer of '98

by Tay Marley

  “Football practice tomorrow,” I said, throwing over arm—she caught it.

  “Can I come?”

  “Yeah, of course. You wanna help again?”

  She threw the ball. “I don’t think so.”

  We both laughed.

  “Practice is Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, right?” she asked, recalling what I’d told her on the phone.

  “Yep. It’s technically not my practice, but Coach asked me and a couple of the guys to assistant coach the new team. Gives us a chance to keep playing together before we all head off to college.”

  “That’s really sweet to spend so much of your time helping.”

  “Have to fit the gym in there too.”

  She tipped her head back and groaned. It echoed in the quiet night air. “I could never. You’re so busy. It makes me feel like a lump.”

  “Sure,” I teased, looking at her toned legs stretched out in front of her.

  “These are staircase legs,” she gestured at them with the ball in her hand. “School and home. I suppose I walk into town a lot too. Question: would you rather exercise every day for the rest of your life or be able to play football for the NFL? You can’t do both, though. One or the other.”

  “Ooh.” I caught her throw with one hand. “That’s a tough one. They go hand in hand. Have to be fit to play football. But I think I could stay fit enough if I was playing all the time. Can I go to football practice, or does that count as exercise?”

  “You can go to practice.”

  “All right, football for the NFL then,” I said. “What about you? You can use skincare for the rest of your life, or you can run a skincare line. But not both.”

  She gasped. “Oh, wow. Would it be guaranteed that my skincare line would be successful?”

  “Yep. The best one in the world.”

  She palmed her forehead. “The pressure. That’s so hard because I love skincare, but if I could guarantee to help millions of people with my products, I mean, I think it’d have to be the successful line.”

  I was about to throw the ball but paused. “You’d sacrifice your own skin to provide the products to the rest of the world?”

  “Yeah,” she said, with a duh tone. “I’m just one person. Besides, face-lifts aren’t technically skincare. I could just invest in that if I was desperate. I’d be earning enough.”

  She continued to amaze me.

  “What skincare do you use?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Sunscreen.”

  She glared. “The injustice. So unfair. I like your mom and dad, by the way,” she suddenly said, perking up. “I don’t know if I’ve said that. They’re great.”

  “They like you too.”

  She ducked her head and grinned. “Does it make a difference that your dad was in the NFL? Does that make your chances of getting scouted better?”

  “It means more people know who I am. But nah, if I don’t have the skills, I don’t have them. No one’s going to scout me based on my name alone, but they will be watching.”

  Moving shadows danced across her thoughtful face and tree leaves rustled when quiet fell upon us, the distant sound of cars humming on the main roads and the occasional bark of a nearby dog echoing in the dark.

  “Did your dad always want you to follow in his footsteps?”

  “There’s never been any pressure,” I said. “But he was excited when I joined youth football and developed a passion for the game. He took me to his games and stuff like that from a young age, so I’ve grown up around the big athletes. I didn’t actually spend a lot of time with kids my own age when I was younger. Apart from Noah and my teammates. If I had spare time, I was on the field or at games or getting private coaching sessions in with Dad. Didn’t do a lot of the playdates or parties.”

  “Do you ever feel like you missed out?” Her voice was quiet. “On being a kid?”

  “Nah,” I said. “Nope. I had a great upbringing. I feel blessed in that sense.”

  “I used to wish I had a sibling.”

  “Overrated,” I joked, picking at blades of grass.

  “I’m sure you don’t mean that.”

  “I loved having a brother when I was growing up. Someone who was just there whenever I needed him or wanted to have some fun or whatever.”

  Ellie nodded with a distant expression; the ball clutched in her hands. “One thing I know for sure, I will not have fewer than two children.”

  “I always thought two was a good number.”

  She smiled; her gaze locked on mine. “Actually, I think so too.”

  Ellie

  On Monday morning, I changed into a simple sundress, knowing that I would be out in the sweltering sun for hours. Downstairs, Leroy waited in the foyer for me. He cradled a football in one hand, dressed in a pair of white shorts and a T-shirt, his football cleats in his other hand.

  “Ready?” He smiled when I stepped onto the tile floor, my sandals slapping with the steps. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  He tucked the football under his arm and opened the door for me, following behind as I stepped out into the warm summer air.

  We settled into the Mercedes and Leroy slipped a CD into the radio, adjusting the volume button before he sat back and pulled his seat belt on. I sat up straighter with excitement when “I’ll Be There for You” began to come through the speakers.

  “I love this song,” I said. “Do you like Friends?”

  “For sure,” he said. “New season in September. I’m pumped.”

  “Me too.”

  Leroy grinned, watching the road but glancing to the side as I bopped in my seat. His hand found mine a moment later. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt like my heart was going to fly out of my chest. He had such an effect on me.

  He swung into a parking lot of Archwood High School and we got out. I waited beside the car while he slipped into his cleats and retrieved his football from the backseat. The school’s wooden reception doors were locked up. A banner that read Happy Graduation Class of ’98 was falling off the building, attached only by one side. We walked across the parking lot, through a wire fence gate, and onto the large field. Wooden bleachers encircled the entire space and off to the right was a large dark-orange gymnasium where a couple of football players were gathered, chatting amongst themselves.

  As soon as we came into view, members of the team gathered and greeted their captain with enthusiasm. I noted how brief Leroy was with his peers. He was polite and smiled and answered questions with what was necessary. But he wasn’t the same person that he was with me. He was a hint quieter, more reserved.

  He didn’t bother introducing me to the entire team individually; instead, he boldly announced me while he had their attention and I blushed at the number of eyes that fell on me with curiosity. I had seen a lot of them on Saturday night during the party, but I hadn’t spoken to them. Of course, I knew Eric, so I gave him a small wave and in return he winked. “How’s it going, sweetheart?”

  “Good,” I replied as he walked forward. The rest of the team fell back and began preparing for their practice.

  “How was the hangover?”

  “It was brutal to begin with, but by the time we got to the flag football practice, I felt better.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Jordan said that he met Leroy’s girlfriend,” he laughed. “Have fun with that?”

  “It was fun. They’re cute kids.”

  He tilted his head to the side and stared at my temple with a furrowed brow.

  “What happened there?” he asked, and I realized that he must have been referring to the cut from my careless head banging. “Leroy, you putting hands on this woman?”

  He turned and pretended to threaten Leroy, who was sauntering back toward us with a helmet under his arm.

  Leroy rolled his eyes with amuseme
nt. It was then that he locked eyes with me and cocked a brow. I caught the undertone of his smirk. He sure had been putting hands on me.

  “Eric, go and start laps,” Leroy instructed. His tone didn’t leave room for argument, but it wasn’t rude. He seemed to have perfected keeping the lines of friendship and captain in perfect balance.

  Eric gave me a friendly nudge in the shoulder and laughed before he took off, falling in beside someone else as they ran around the field. “You’ll be bored for a good two hours,” Leroy sounded apologetic.

  “No, I won’t be bored.” I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’ll be watching you. That couldn’t be boring.”

  He ducked down and pressed a kiss against my lips. It was gentle and sweet.

  “Oh swell, you’re here!”

  Cass was coming through the wire fence with a bottle of beer in one hand and a pair of shades covering half of her face. She looked effortless in a pair of denim shorts and a striped orange T-shirt that exposed her midriff.

  “It’s ten in the morning, Cass,” Leroy kept his hands rested on my lower back as he scolded the wild curly-headed girl.

  She recoiled with confusion but then glanced down at the bottle in her hands with understanding. “It’s also summer . . .”

  Leroy ignored her and leaned in for a chaste kiss before he headed onto the field. When I turned around, Cass was sprawled out on the grass, the bottle of beer straight up in the air as her throat rolled, swallowing the liquid faster than I could believe I was seeing.

  When she was done, she dropped her arm and let the bottle roll across the grass with a sigh. “Want one? I left a box in the shade over there.”

  I laughed and sat down beside her. “No thanks.”

  It felt a little bit awkward. We’d been having the time of our lives on Saturday night but without the drunk confidence, she was back to being a perfect stranger. I had a feeling that she didn’t have the same problem around other people, though.

  “Let’s hope that some of these jocks take their tops off, huh?” She sat up and leaned back on her palms, watching the warmups from beside me.

  There was only one person that I was interested in seeing topless. And he was still clothed, much to my utter disappointment.

  “Can I bitch about something for a sec?” Cass asked after a few minutes of observing. I turned and gave her a quick nod. “Noah is an absolute dick skin. I hate him, I do! But ugh, he’s like—addictive. We have great sex. Sometimes we even have great conversations. But then he leaves me in the middle of the night. Or I catch him with some girl in the school hall. I don’t know. Like, I can’t seem to tell him no, though. I mean, we’ve never been official, so I can’t call him a cheater. But I give in every time. As soon as he kisses me, it’s all over. I used to wish I could have liked Leroy. He’s so much nicer. But he just doesn’t do it for me.”

  She took a deep breath after the long rant and I glanced at Leroy, glad that he “didn’t do it for her.” Although I couldn’t understand it either. How could he not?

  “Tell me how to be strong, Ellie.” She flicked her shades up, pushing her ringlets back and staring at me with a pleading gaze.

  “I’m not great at the whole advice thing.” I winced when she sighed with disappointment. “It kind of sounds like—”

  “Do not say love!” She cut me off. “I do not love that moron.”

  That wasn’t what I was going to say, at all. I was more headed in the direction of unhealthy dependence. Especially considering the way that he’d talked about her yesterday. She probably didn’t want to hear what I had to tell her, though.

  “You got the good one.” She sat forward with a defeated slouch.

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  “I need another drink.” She burped on cue. “You want one?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. How do you get away with drinking in the middle of the day?”

  She let out a loud bark of a laugh and adjusted her shades. “Mom hasn’t noticed a fucking thing that’s gone on around her since James left when I was eleven. James was my dad. If she’s not dating someone new, she’s at the bottom of a bottle.”

  “My dad left too,” I said. “But I hadn’t been born yet. I never knew him.”

  Cass stared straight out ahead of her. “You’re lucky.”

  It would be an understatement to say that I wasn’t the best at offering advice or comfort, no matter how empathetic I felt. I never knew if I should offer a shoulder or an ear. She seemed so sad.

  “Were you close with him?” I asked, hoping that she wouldn’t find the question invasive.

  Cass exhaled a deep breath. “I thought I was. But how close could we have been if he just up and left? Bastard. I know that he and Mom never got along but . . . we did. He could have taken me with him, you know? I’d have preferred to live with him than her. She’s a mess.”

  “Have you ever tried to find him?”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start. Besides, why should I have to find him? He knows where I am. He’s the parent. It’s his job to act like it.”

  I’d never thought of it like that before, “That’s true.”

  “Mom dated this one okay dude when I was fourteen. He was pretty nice, and she had her shit semi-together because he was some hot-shot corporate guy. She couldn’t act like an alcoholic slutbag when they went to events and all that. But she blew it. Correction: she blew his brother.”

  I winced.

  “That’s what Mother Dearest is like. Whatever. It is what it is. I’ll be honest, though; I can’t wait to get out of this place. Or out of my home. Just a change, you know.”

  “Are you going to college?”

  “When I graduate.”

  “Oh,” I blinked. “You didn’t graduate with Leroy?”

  “No. I’m a senior this semester. Another whole year at school with Noah and his bullshit buggin’ the hell out of me.”

  “I didn’t realize,” I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them, watching Leroy directing his teammates, the passion and dedication in his form. “What will you do at college when the time comes?”

  “I’m not sure,” she shrugged. “I’ll figure it out when I’m there. That’s the point, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. There was a slightly stronger rush of breeze and it was a refreshing break from the hot sun. The wind made the old bleacher frames groan and the gate rattled. “I guess it is.”

  We watched the practice for another half hour. Cass sunk three more beers that she’d stashed under the bleachers to keep cool, and we made small talk while we sat in the grass. It became apparent that Cass preferred to keep up conversation rather than sit in silence. There was never more than a beat of quiet, but I appreciated that about her.

  “Can I just come with you two, please?” Cass pleaded with Leroy after football practice.

  “This is becoming a bad habit,” he muttered as we walked back to his car. He was coated with a sheen of sweat—he still hadn’t lost his shirt, but it was damp and sticking to his torso.

  “What’s becoming a bad habit?” Cass dismissed. She stumbled a little and grabbed on to me before she could end up face-first in the concrete.

  “Driving your plastered ass around,” he answered.

  She ignored the jeer and slid into the backseat of the car without further discussion. She could hold her liquor far better than I could, that was for sure. Leroy started the car and put his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he reversed out of the space. The music didn’t allow for a lot of conversation as we drove home, but a few minutes in, Cass appeared between us. She flicked the volume button down and leaned on the center console.

  “Are your parents home?”

  “No,” Leroy said. “Work. Dad’s spending the day with Joe.”

  “Who’s Joe?” I asked, casually curious.

/>   “Cool, I’ll come to your place. My mom is in,” Cass said.

  “Joe is an old friend of his. Lives just out of town, so Dad makes a day of it when he visits,” Leroy said.

  Cass blabbered on about this, that, and the next thing as we all got out of the car and headed toward the house. The windows were wide open, the curtains blowing in the light breeze. As we stepped inside, I could hear Weezer floating from the living room speakers. Cass walked ahead of us, kicking her flip-flops off with ease before she stumbled down the step into the living room.

  I had barely toed off my first sandal when Cass’s hostile shouting could be heard. Leroy and I exchanged a quick glance and sped up our movements. He was a step ahead of me when we found the cause of her pissed-off shouting; I felt a pang of heartache for her.

  Noah was half-naked on the sofa, a beautiful brunet in her bra pinned beneath him.

  “You are a sack of shit,” Cass shouted, emphasizing each word. The girl pushed at his chest, forcing him off her. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he glanced between the three of us. “I mean, shit. Did you even have time to shower between the two of us?!”

  The girl glowered as she pulled a shirt over her head. “Screw you, Noah.” She looked at Cass, apologetic. “I didn’t realize—”

  “You’re fine, Holly,” Cass waved the girl off. “He’s the asshole.”

  “Noah, go upstairs,” Leroy ordered, intervening before the situation could unravel further. Noah seemed more than willing to follow his big brother’s orders.

  “Excuse me, you little sack,” Cass shouted. “We’re not done here.” She stormed after Noah, following him upstairs despite our warning that it was best if she left him alone. The advice fell on deaf ears and their shouting could be heard from where we stood in the living room.