by Jillian Dodd
For once?
A challenge, huh?
Shit.
"I want a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate shake, AND maybe even a hot fudge sundae. Deal?"
"Pig," he replies, but shakes his head in agreement.
"Fine, I'll be there in a minute."
I lay my head back down and try to revive my daydream. Unfortunately it's long gone.
I look at my back. No change yet, but I guess Danny's right. I can play with my suit on.
Play and fill in the tan lines at the same time.
I am so efficient!
So I get up from my comfy spot, walk over to the picnic table, hook my finger thru a belt loop on my favorite cutoffs, pull them off the table, and drag them behind me. I walk over to my fence and fling open the gate. Danny and Phillip are tossing the ball casually to each other in the empty lot next door. The lot has a luscious carpet of grass that Phillip and Danny work hard to keep immaculate, just for this purpose.
I start to walk toward them and then thinking, stop and yell, "Shoes or no shoes?" You have to decide this in the beginning because if you don't have shoes and the other guy does, it can be a very painful day for your toes. If the boys are feeling very serious about their practice, it's shoes.
Most often though, it's no shoes.
I keep standing there, holding my shorts, waiting for an answer.
"Hello?" I say, waving my shorts in their direction.
But the boys are both just standing there staring at me, their mouths agape.
Shit, is one of my boobs hanging out or something? I take a quick look down at myself. No, everything appears to be in order.
What? It's like they can see me, but they can't hear me.
"Shoes?" I yell again, maybe they didn't hear me.
"Uh," says Phillip, looking down at his own feet, like he can't remember if he has them on. "Um, no shoes."
Phillip gives Danny a sideways glance, and Danny smiles back at him.
What's up with those two? I probably missed some stupid boy joke.
Whatever.
I jog over to them in my bare feet, pull on my shorts and zip them up. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Uh, new swimsuit, Jay?" Danny asks, with his eyebrows raised at me, half a smirk on his face.
"Yeah. Do you like it? I got it for the Summer Bash next week."
Danny doesn't answer my question, but asks one of his own. "Your dad seen it yet?"
"Well, no, but he's not going to the party. So do you guys like it? Does it look okay?" I stare at Phillip. "Phillip?"
Phillip is still looking at me sort of shocked. What's the deal? Does it look bad?
Phillip starts to open his mouth to say something. At first nothing comes out, but then he says, "I think I like that pink one you have better."
Jerk!
The pink one he is referring to is practically a granny style one-piece. I give that boy a mad face.
Danny looks at Phillip and shakes his head at him. Then he winks at me and says, "Go long, right, Jay."
I do, and we play catch for about 30 minutes, running various plays and routes. It's usually fun and a good workout for me.
But the whole time we're playing, Phillip's bikini comment is festering in my brain. I brilliantly intercept a pass, and I nearly scream out loud, HAHAHAHA, Phillip, you jerk! But I withheld my comments and gave him a smirky grin instead.
Which apparently didn't bother him in the least because he shrugs his shoulders at me, his body saying, No big deal.
And that really pisses me off.
So on the next play, as we're running side by side down the field, I carefully stick my foot out with the intention of accidentally tripping him.
Only it doesn't quite work as I imagined because my leg gets tangled up with his, and we both go down.
BOOM.
I land on my side with a THUD and literally bounce off the grass.
And it must've knocked the wind out of me because I can't seem to breathe.
I try to take a breath, but before I can, Phillip rolls me over on my back, pins my arms above my head, and sits on me.
At first, I think he's going to tickle me or something, but then my oxygen deficient brain registers his brown eyes flashing black.
Uh, oh. I don't think he's very happy with me.
I painfully suck in a breath of air, just as he leans down close to my face. Warm, minty breath blows on me when he yells, "YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!"
"What are you talking about?" I ask, ever so innocently.
Who? ME?
"You're being a shit! I don't know what your problem is, but I won't let you hurt us both. I'll be damned if I'll miss senior year football with a broken leg because you can't play nice."
"Poor little Phillip. Can't play with the big girls?"
"I play fine with girls," Phillip answers, with a smirk of his own.
A little too fine lately, if you ask me.
He may be getting too cute and confident for his own good.
He pushes my hands into the ground, "I'm serious. No more cheap shots."
"You can't tell me what to do, Phillip."
"Maybe not, but I'll tell your dad you've been a poor sport."
Shit. He's got me on that.
"Fine. Get off me."
Phillip stays where he is and says in his calmer, sweeter voice. "What are you so pissed about anyway? Are you mad at Danny?"
Is he serious? I mean is he really that clueless? How could he possibly not know what has me so upset? And really, why do I care what he thinks anyway? He's just a big, fat dork who dates clueless girls. Girls who wouldn't know a tight spiral pass if it hit them in the uh, well, you know.
"Hey! You guys gonna get a room, or do you wanna play some football?" Danny yells from across the yard.
Danny. Wow. I had almost forgotten he was here.
But I'm glad because his comment jerks me out of my feeling-sorry-for-myself mood, and my cockiness comes rushing back. I raise an eyebrow at Phillip and then let my eyes wander down the length of his body.
I mean, he is on top of me.
He gives me the evil eye, gets up, and throws the ball back to Danny. "I've had enough," he says.
I hop up and follow Phillip to where Danny's standing.
All of a sudden my legs feel itchy.
Crap.
A bunch of loose grass clippings have stuck to the oil on my legs. Not particularly attractive, I think, as I try to brush them off.
Danny, trying to ease the unusual tension between Phillip and me, laughs and points at me. He calls me the Grass Monster or something equally juvenile and stupid.
Phillip finally laughs too and then says, "I'm starving!"
"Yeah, me too. Let's go," Danny agrees. He bends down, grabs his T-shirt off the grass, and slides his feet into a pair of flip-flops.
"I've gotta run home and grab a shirt and some shoes," Phillip tells us.
I start to head to my house to grab a shirt too.
Danny responds to Phillip by saying, "Jay's driving that hot new Mustang of hers." Then he runs up behind me, snaps me on the butt with his T-shirt, and follows me home.
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, he was just pissed because he thought I tripped him on purpose."
Danny looks at me like a human lie detector, "Did you?"
I chuckle. "Maybe..."
I shove my shoulder into his and say, "So, I know what Phillip thinks of the bikini, but you never gave me a straight answer. So do you like it? Come on Danny, I value your opinion, and I really don't want to wear it to the party if it looks stupid on me."
Danny thinks for a moment, like he's not sure what to say.
I mean, come on!
Any other girl in a bikini and Danny would be giving me much more information about the bikini than I would ever want to know. You'd think he'd at least be able to answer one simple question about my bikini.
Finally, Danny turns to me and says blandly, rolling his eyes, "Jake
will love it."
YAY!
"But you better just have water at the Shack, or you might outgrow it before the party."
I flash angry eyes at him, but I can tell by his smirk that he's just teasing me.
"Cheapskate. You're just trying to get out of buying me lunch."
"Mom," I yell, as I am bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. "Can you tie these strings in tight double knots for me?" I'm holding my bikini top up to my chest, the straps are trailing behind me.
It's the day of the Summer River Bash, and I'm running late, as usual. Jake will be here any minute, and I am so not ready.
Mom is standing at the kitchen sink. Dad is sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the sports section.
He glances up and quickly reverts to the paper. Then his head comes flying back up. He looks at Mom and then at me and says, "You're not wearing that, are you, Jadyn?"
Duh. I just put it on for fun and am having Mom tie it for no reason.
But I don't have time for any hassle right now. I'm late enough as it is.
So I say in my sweet, polite voice, "Yes, a swimsuit is required attire for a beach party."
I give him my I'm your little angel and can do no wrong look, as I slide over with my back towards Mom, holding my top against my chest with one hand and my hair up with the other.
"Double knots, please," I say quietly to her.
I don't want it coming undone at an inopportune time.
Dad says to Mom in an edgy tone, "Don't you think that swimsuit is a little skimpy, Ronny?" My Mom's real name is Veronica.
Veronica James Reynolds.
James was my great-great grandma's maiden name. All first-born girls since my great grandma have had James as their middle name, thus my weird middle name. And evidently giving your daughter a boy's name for a nickname also runs in the family. I seriously didn't even know my name was Jadyn until I went to kindergarten. Daddy always calls me Angel and everyone else has always called me JJ.
I'm only Jadyn when I'm in big trouble.
Crap. I know what's coming next.
I don't let Mom answer Dad's question. I jump into the conversation by saying, "Mom helped me pick it out, Dad. She thinks it's cute."
"Well it may be cute, but I don't think it is particularly appropriate for someone your age," he declares, like he is the Ruler of the Free World.
Unfortunately, of my Free, I think not, World.
"Dad. Come on. I'm 17, besides Mom said I should wear..." I glance at Mom. She is clearly giving me the shut up signal, crossing her hand in front of her neck and bugging her eyes out. That or she is threatening to kill me.
Uh. Okay, I get it, I think. So I finish, "....uh, I should wear this suit for sunning purposes only." I nod.
Which I will be doing at the lake.
All day and maybe even into the night.
"Besides, I have a tank top and board shorts that I will wear over it to swim in."
"Well, you can wear them to sun in at the lake too, or you're not wearing it at all. I think it should only be worn for sunning in the back yard." Then he thinks about it, squints his eyes at me and adds, "And definitely no playing football in that thing."
Ah, yeah. Well, it's a little late for that.
I've got to get out of here!
Mom saves the day by saying, "Maybe you should come swimsuit shopping with me and JJ this week, Paul. You can help us pick out something you feel would be appropriate." She gives Dad a look of defiance, one eyebrow raised in challenge and her arms crossed in front of her chest.
She's got him so beat.
He'd never go shopping with us in a million years. He still says he is allergic because he equates shopping to torture.
"Uh," he backtracks, "why don't you let me see it with the shorts. It'll probably be okay that way."
Yeah, I'm sure it will.
After promising to keep the shorts on and finally getting his approval, I fly back up the stairs.
When Jake arrives, I rush out of the house, so he won't have a chance to talk to my Dad.
Needless to say, I didn't wear the shorts at the river, and Jake liked the suit just fine.
Later in the week, I have what starts out as a great dream. I'm in the empty lot playing catch with Phillip and Danny. We're having so much fun because Danny and I don't fight about anything.
It's like the perfect day.
Strangely, Danny disappears and I relive tripping Phillip, sort of on purpose, the other day. He sits on top of me and holds me down.
Then the dream gets really weird.
He leans in to yell at me, but starts KISSING me instead. And, well, he does some other stuff too.
What a nightmare!
Phillip is like a brother to me.
I don't..... I mean, I can't.....well...I shouldn't think about him like that.
It's practically incestuous!
But evidently I'm pretty warped because not only did I really enjoy the dream, I keep finding myself wanting to have it again.
And it's freaking me out.
It really, really is.
The music is cranked up, and the top is cranked down. Phillip and I are in my car, driving to Lincoln, Nebraska on Thursday afternoon.
Why are we going to Lincoln?
We are going on a College Campus Visit.
Now for the rest of your questions, the answers that I give will depend on who you are. For example, if you are a teacher, parent, or guidance counselor, you will hear the following:
Why are you going on a campus visit?
Well, Phillip and I are really looking forward to having the opportunity to get a first hand view of the University of Nebraska. I mean every campus has online tours and information, but there really is no substitute for visiting, when it comes to getting a real feel for what the school is like.
And what will you be doing there?
We will be taking a guided tour of the campus, as well as taking part in a group orientation session. We will also try to sit in on a class, check out the food, and the dorms. We will look at the activities available to us and try to meet with an advisor or professor in our chosen major. Oh, and I especially want to check out the library and the bookstore.
And how will you make the difficult decision of which college to attend?
Well, I'm sure I will make a lengthy pros and cons list for each school we visit, but basically I will choose the school that has the best combination of academics, in my chosen field, and overall best feeling. You know, how comfortable I feel there.
OKAY, so that's a college campus visit in theory. The reality of this trip is probably going to be a bit different from that.
Why are you going on a campus visit?
To visit Danny, spend 3 nights with him, go to a Husker football game, meet boys and PARTAAAY!
And what will you be doing there?
Going to parties, checking out cute boys, seeing the dorms, partying, meeting cute college boys and PARTYING. Oh, and going to a football game and checking out the cute boys, when not enthralled by the game.
And how will you make the difficult decision of which college to attend?
I will base my decision on whichever college has the best parties and the cutest boys. Oh, and where I feel comfortable with the parties and the boys.
And the guidance counselor at school tries to make us seniors think the process is so complicated. I mean it's really quite simple.
But the good news is that college visits are an excuse to go party at college with your parents' approval!
Even your teachers' approval. All of our teachers are so happy that Phillip and I are setting such a good example for the other students and taking initiative, that they waived all of our homework for the weekend.
"You don't need to worry about that pesky stuff," Mrs. Reece told me. "You need to fully immerse yourselves in the collegiate experience."
Yes, she actually said those words. I told Phillip I planned to fully immerse mys
elf, alright! Of course, that's when he looked a little nervous.
And my parents are also proud that I am taking my college choice so seriously. I mean, I did sort of tell them that I had to start early so I could try for early scholarships.
Do they even have early scholarships? And if they do, I'm thinking I had to apply for them junior year, but oh well. I'm not even sure.
I suppose I'll have to get online and look that up while I'm there because I know that will be the first question they'll ask when I see them. Phillip and I have to be on our best behavior Saturday, when we meet our parents and the Diamonds for tailgating before the Husker game. It will be imperative that we act like this is serious.
I'd really like to know who came up with the whole guise of the college recruitment visit.
They were brilliant!
Under no other circumstances would your parents allow you to go away for the weekend, completely unchaperoned!
Now don't get me wrong. When looking at colleges you should decide what is important to you and organize and prioritize. I have made a list of the things that are a DON'T MISS!
Now I appreciate the fact that academics are important, but I really believe that the college's social, can you say party, atmosphere is stratospherically more important.
And lets face it, I can get an education anywhere, right? But I'm going to have to live with these people for four, hopefully only four, years. So it's imperative that I really do find a place where I will feel comfortable.
Of course, Dad made Phillip have a sit down with him to discuss the rules for the weekend. Although really, I think Dad would let me go just about anywhere if it meant I wasn't with Jake. Let's just say he hasn't exactly made Jake feel like part of the family. But that's a whole other story.
"So what did he tell you again?" I ask Phillip for the hundredth time because this really cracks me up.
"I am holding you personally responsible, Phillip." Phillip does a perfect imitation of my Dad's deep voice. "She'd better not get drunk, stoned, pregnant or dead."
I laugh some more.
Little does he know, Phillip, who is still by far the most responsible of the three of us, has turned into a full-fledged partier this year.
It's going to be killer.
Danny called me last night, he was laughing, telling me that Dad had talked to him too. He basically threatened them both with bodily harm if they let anything happen to me.
Here's the other great thing. Phillip and I are staying with Danny.