“Ang, did I do something wrong?” Cory’s features were drawn and tight.
The sight of his tense face made my chest ache and I struggled to keep a quaver out of my voice. “I heard you, you know. ‘Girls don’t belong on the weight team. They’re such a joke.’”
He shook his head slowly as though he couldn’t believe what was going on. “Ang, I didn’t …”
I jerked my arm from his slack grasp, “Only my friends call me Ang.”
His wounded expression stabbed at me, a pinch of guilt twisting my gut. And then his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, the muscles flexing. He swept past me without another word.
Crap. Now I’d done it.
Chapter Two
I lay on my stomach, stretched out on the lawn, feet in the air and my head on my arms. Blades of soft grass pressed into my forearms. Why couldn’t summer last longer? Eyes closed, the warmth of the sun gently kissed my skin. I heard JJ’s voice distantly. It mixed with the other voices buzzing around us on the grassy knoll.
“Mhhmm,” I agreed, even though I had no idea what she’d said.
“Okay, do you want me to pick you up, then?”
“Huh?”
“Ha.” JJ shoved me. “I knew you weren’t listening.”
I laughed and sat up, brushing the hair from my face. Eyes stinging from the brightness of the sun, I blinked several times, wishing I hadn’t left my sunglasses in the car. “Sorry, just enjoying the sun. You were talking about going to the game, right?”
“Yeah, you want a ride?”
“Sure, it beats driving the pink machine.”
“Your mom’s car rocks.”
“Yeah, it’s great.” I laughed, but it was cut short by the sight of a bright blue Jeep, Cory at the wheel.
The corners of my mouth turned down as I remembered the look on Coach Harrison’s face when I’d asked to change partners. I was the world’s biggest chicken, but I couldn’t work out that close to Cory for an entire hour. It would have been torture. Turns out it was torture either way. Once practice had gotten under way, I ended up watching Cory more than I actually worked out, unjustly resentful toward JJ, now partnered with him.
“You know, Cory asked me to talk to you,” JJ said.
“Yeah?” My voice was a bit sharper than I intended. I focused on the empty patch of asphalt where the Jeep had passed. “So what’d he want?”
“I’m not sure. I told him to talk to you himself.” She gestured toward a shadow looming over us, the bright rays of the sun spidering out around the figure. I pulled my knees into my chest and hugged them tightly. And then the shadow spoke.
“Hey, Angie, can I talk to you?”
I swallowed and nodded.
JJ got up. Before she walked away, she whispered, “Close your mouth.”
Cory sat next to me. Silence stretched between us like a vast dark chasm. I chewed on my lip. With each passing second the urge to say something intensified, but I remained silent, unsure what would come out. Not sure what I wanted to come out.
What he’d said hurt, but I remembered his injured look yesterday. Maybe we’d both hurt each other enough. My throat tightened, and I swallowed back the lump forming in it. I almost blurted an apology, but the lump seemed to be growing. A blade of grass lay on my leg. I pinched it between my fingers and twirled, and pretended to focus on it spin while I watched him out of the corner of my eye. “Did you need something, Cory?”
He cleared his throat, a nervous smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I … yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”
I shrugged. “Ok.”
He cleared his throat and shifted. “Do you want me to go?” He moved to get up, but I put a hand on his shoulder.
“No, Cory, wait. Don’t go.” I tucked my arms into my chest, and shrugged a shoulder.
He paused, halfway between standing and sitting. Then he sat, his arms resting on his upraised knees, his fingers dangling. “Why’d you switch partners?”
His question startled me, and I finally looked at him fully. His blue eyes seized mine. Why did I switch? That’s what he came to ask? Quietly, hesitantly, I answered, “Uh, ’cause I didn’t think you’d want to be my partner after what I said yesterday.”
He seemed to ponder my response, his stare going distant, and then he nodded. “Oh.”
The knife edge of guilt cut again and I hurried to explain. “Cory, yesterday when you said those things, it hurt, but I shouldn’t have been nasty. I’m sorry.”
Lunch had ended. Students passed us on their way into the school, their quick steps slapping against the sidewalk battling with their noisy chatter. I cast my eyes down, away from their curious glances.
“Angie, I’m sorry, too.” Cory’s posture relaxed and he pushed his hair out of his eyes. I noticed he didn’t call me Ang and a hollowness spread through my gut. He continued, “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?”
He smiled absently at a group of tittering freshmen. I pursed my lips at their adoring gaze, and had an impulse to chase them away. He plucked the abandoned blade of grass from the ground and twisted it through his strong fingers. “I didn’t know you could hear us yesterday.”
“Oh.” My mouth hung open, and then I blinked rapidly. “So, you’re apologizing for what I heard you say?”
“Yeah.” Cory tossed me a toothy grin as he stood, his hand held out to help me up. “I really am.”
I ignored his hand and pushed myself to my feet, dusting the loose grass off my backside. I bit my lip and faked a smile. “Okay. Thanks for the apology.”
I turned and headed into the school, weaving through the crush of people on their way to class. I passed by my locker, passed my next class, and continued on until I found a deserted hall. At the end of it, I stopped and leaned my head against a locker. My eyes tingled and moisture blurred my vision.
Why did he have to be a jerk? Just forget him, move on. His handsome face flashed into my mind. When was the last time another guy had made me feel this way? I thought about Cory all the time, and had for so long. I was drawn to him. Well, he’s not perfect, so get over him already.
I sniffed and turned. My hand froze on my cheek. “Cory, you … followed me?”
Cory shifted his feet, his hand extended in mid-air as though he had been about to touch me. He dropped it to his side and cleared his throat. “Angie, I didn’t say those things about you and your friends.”
I shook my head and turned.
“Maybe you didn’t.” My voice quivered. I couldn’t make myself look at his face, “But I’m not stupid. You laughed right along with the rest of them.”
I didn’t know what to think. It was so confusing. First, he acted all friendly during practice, then acted like a jerk, apologized for what I heard but not for actually saying the crappy things he did, and then he followed me.
Cory rushed into my path and forced me to stop. He pulled back his hands at my frown. “Okay, I did laugh. I’m sorry, and not because you heard, but because I did it. I should have told them to knock it off. But I didn’t. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.”
As I digested what he’d said, I crossed my arms.
“The guys. They’re intimidated by you girls. To be honest, so … am I,” he admitted quietly.
“Then why’d you laugh?”
“Because I’m a moron.” He dropped his head, his eyes pinched. “A stupid, pathetic moron.”
I was about to ask what he was intimidated by but stopped, my mouth half open. Had he stepped closer?
“Angie,” he whispered my name like it was a treasured secret. He was definitely getting closer. “I’m sorry.”
His smile displayed his dimples, and deep creases lined the corners of his eyes, which shimmered playfully like the sun reflecting off a calm lake. I looked into them and forgot how he’d laughed at me, forgot how he’d apologized for what I’d heard, forgot everything except for him.
He touched the ends of my hair, his fingers warm on my arm
, and then he took hold of both my hands. My breath caught, a staccato trill erupted in my chest then slowed. The erratic pace made me dizzy, and I leaned toward him.
“Hey, what are you two doing? Cory, you’re supposed to be in class.” Mr. McMahon, the VP, swooped down the hallway toward us, a tall, awkward bird of prey. “Who’s that with you? Angie Adams?”
I stepped back quickly and pulled my hand from Cory’s grasp like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Cory reluctantly let go, and grabbed the back of his head, sighing heavily. His bicep flexed with the action, the thin material of his faded green t-shirt taut. A cool smile on his face, he turned to Mr. McMahon. “We were just headed that way, Manly.” Cory used the VP’s nickname casually, like he’d done it before—which he probably had—the hesitant guy from a moment ago gone. With his usual calm, he clapped Mr. McMahon on the shoulder.
“Class started five minutes ago.” Mr. McMahon glanced pointedly at his watch. “This is not the time to be fooling around in the hallway with your girlfriend.”
“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” I blurted. My chest constricted, wishing it were true.
Cory frowned and turned toward Mr. McMahon.
“Whatever, just get to class, now, or you’ll both be getting detention.” Mr. McMahon stopped outside his office door and eyed Cory sternly. His beady eyes made him look even more hawk-like.
“Guess we’d better get to class.” His face was calm, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes and his pulse hammered just above the collar of his shirt.
I nodded. “See you later.”
He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and then lengthened his step and was gone.
What had he been about to do before Manly showed up? I flicked my hair behind my ear, brow furrowed, and headed to class.
Chapter Three
The cold touch of the tweezers kissed my brow, and I braced for the twinge of pain. I jerked my hand back, the stubborn hair pinched securely in the tip of the tweezers. I rubbed my eyebrow, and wiped the moisture from the corner of my eye.
Standing back, I assessed my appearance. I was tall, with stick-straight, brown hair and jewel bright blue eyes. Brighter than usual because of the recent plucking. They were, by far, my best feature, the color an ever-changing spectrum of gray blue to aquamarine. Tonight, they sparkled sapphire, enhanced by the touch of pale blue eye shadow dusting my lids.
I sighed and tugged my worn-out brush—missing a third of its bristles—through my damp hair. Once smoothed, I secured my hair in my normal fashion at the crown of my head with my favorite barrette. Satisfied, I hurriedly brushed my teeth, flipped off the bathroom light and bounded up the stairs.
It was Friday night. Game night. The first of the school year. And, of course, Cory was playing.
I drummed my fingers on the table and stared out the window, my lips downturned. Since our exchange in the hall the other day, he’d treated me awkwardly. He still partnered with JJ, even though she’d tried to get him to switch back, and only when necessary did he acknowledge me. Several times I’d thought I felt his eyes on me, but when I looked he was busy with a lift or instructing JJ. I still wasn’t sure what I’d done for him to treat me so distantly. I thought we’d smoothed things over before Manly had shown up.
My mom paced the kitchen, her cell phone to her ear. “Lorraine, why would you do that? You know your father and I can’t afford to keep helping you like this.”
Inwardly, I groaned. What have you done now, Lorraine? Since she’d graduated high school, my sister made one bad decision after another: dropping out of college, crashing three cars, flitting from job to job, and partying every night into oblivion. My parents didn’t really know about the last one, or more likely they did, but were in denial about their daughter being a borderline loser.
A flash of lights lit the end of the driveway and I leapt to my feet. “See you later, Mom.”
She tucked the phone under her chin. “See you later. And, Angie, remember who you are.”
“Yep. Later, Mom.” I bounced down the steps towards JJ’s rusted old boat of a car. Amid creaks and groans, I hauled the door open and slid in, careful not to bunch up the bed sheet that covered the torn, faded upholstery. Latching my belt as JJ reversed, the large car lurched back.
Once on the highway, she gunned it and the yellow lines blurred against the blacktop. Surrounded by open farm fields, the school was clearly visible from the road, even at a distance of a few miles. The rural night sky was lit by the glow of the powerful ball field lights. The stands, the green field, and the parking lot were filled with movement, the people so distant they looked like tiny aphids on the back of a leaf.
I bounced in my seat, singing along to the upbeat lyrics filling the cab. JJ’s alto joined my soprano and together we belted out the rest of The Script’s Hall of Fame until static replaced the music.
“Dang, I love that song.” I fiddled with the old dial, vainly trying to tune in the station. I slumped back in my seat only to lean forward again as she turned into the parking lot. She had to veer to miss a truckload of boys. They whistled and hollered at us as they barreled by, way too fast, and zipped by us as we found a parking space.
“Tonight’s gonna be epic.”
JJ studied me, a smile lifting her lips. “Why so excited?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, drumming my fingers on the dash, humming a Bruno Mars tune.
“Would Cory, in his butt-hugging uniform, have anything to do with it?”
“I don’t know,” I said again and then laughed. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” She cleared her throat and cocked her head.
“Yes, maybe.”
“You know, Cory does like you.”
I sighed. I’d told her what happened with Cory in the hall last week, how he grabbed my hand, the way he’d said my name, and how it even looked like he was going to kiss me until the VP interrupted. I wasn’t sure on that one, though. “I don’t know. If he does, why has he been so distant with me?”
She shrugged. “He might be embarrassed the VP caught you and unsure how you feel since you were so quick to deny being his girlfriend. I know he likes you because he’s been impossible as a partner, especially today. Forgetting what rep he’s on or even what station we’re at, always gazing at you instead of spotting me. One time he even started doing squats when we were supposed to be doing dead lifts.”
“What?” I gasped, mixed with a slight chuckle at the image of Cory breaking into squats at the dead lift station. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I’ve been telling you all week that he likes you.” She shrugged and climbed out of the car. “So what if I left out the details.”
I followed slowly, a purple stadium blanket tucked over my arm. My excitement had dwindled a little, my uncertainty over Cory returning. But the scent of buttered popcorn, melted nacho cheese, and crispy cinnamon-sugar dusted churros filled the crisp night air, buoying my spirits. I rocked onto the balls of my feet, and the crowd’s growing energy over the upcoming game flooded me. There was nothing better than a live game: rooting for our team, bundled in a blanket, watching them crush the competition.
Near the top of the bleachers, I spotted a couple friends, Beth and Rachel, and waved enthusiastically to them. Spotting Liz next to them, a purple paw print on her flawless peach skin, I let my hand fall and clenched my teeth. It would have been too much to hope Liz wouldn’t be here.
“Now be nice,” JJ said, pulling me along with her through the crowd.
As I mounted the final few steps to where our friends were sitting, Liz flung herself at me like an overanxious dog. “Hi, Angie.”
“Hey, Liz,” I mumbled before returning my attention to the action on the field.
I joined the cheer for the initial rush of our team onto the field. Brock Marsden, the team’s quarterback, burst through the bright purple banner first, closely followed by the rest of the charging, big-shouldered team. I spotted Cory immediately.
; The marching band started up an out-of-tune fight song from the sidelines. The team ran a few lengths to warm up and the cheerleaders swished their purple and gold pompons through the air.
The announcer’s voice echoed over the field as he hollered each player’s name along with their stats as they ran across the field. As number 35 was called out, I shouted so loud my voice screeched, and I pumped my fist vigorously in the air. I pushed aside the dull ache in my chest over Cory’s aloofness. That didn’t matter tonight.
“Junior Cory Jacobs, with his impressive record of twenty five downs in a single game, is the youngest player to make the varsity team in the history of Coulee High, the team winning every game since he joined as a freshman.” The announcer made it sound like Cory was the only reason for the winning streak.
I had to admit, I agreed.
I set two fingers to my mouth and whistled, then focused on the starting kick. It sailed through the air, landing flawlessly into the outstretched arms of our wide receiver. He secured it smoothly under one arm, and gained a sizeable amount of yardage before he was brought down.
My eyes were drawn to number 35 as he joined the huddle, his white pants molded to his rear. Man, he was hot. His broad shoulders, made all the more so by his pads, and his purple helmet gleamed under the bright lights of the stadium. He was impressively intimidating.
The huddle broke, the players clapping each other’s backsides before they ran to their various positions along the line of scrimmage in the middle of the field. From my vantage high atop the bleachers, I couldn’t hear the center call out the snap, but soon the ball was in play, intercepted by the Broncos quarterback, who sprinted to the end zone. The crowd erupted in boos and hisses as he gained almost twenty yards before Cory tackled him at the thirty-yard line. I whooped and pumped my arm, calling out Cory’s name. After their first initial gain, we pushed the Broncos back, effectively shutting down every effort they made to score.
Honorable Disgrace Page 2