Homecoming: A Secret Baby Romance

by Landish, Lauren

  The summer had been blistering, the hottest on record, with days that reached temperatures of 105 degrees, and I spent most of the summer merely fighting to stay cool. Now I’m happy to finally get some relief as summer lets go of its stranglehold on the Pacific Northwest a little. Right now, it’s seventy degrees and the cooler air feels great on my skin.

  My limbs tremble slightly while I stand in front of my car door and my heart starts to race. It's my first day back at school so I'm more than a little anxious, though I'm not sure why since I've done this enough by now.

  Get it together, girl, I tell myself. This is your last year here. You won't have to see most of these people ever again after you graduate. And the one or two you want to see, you’ll stay in touch with, you know that.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I check my appearance in the sideview mirror before moving on. My hair and makeup looks alright, light foundation, blush and a hint of eye shadow and my locks long and wavy, the way that I think it looks best. When I'm satisfied, I gather my books, shut the door of my Honda, lock it, and then make my way through the parking lot and onto the Silver Lake High campus.

  A feeling of nostalgia rolls through me as I set foot on the grounds and I’m greeted by the familiar layout. It looks just like I remember, beautiful paved walkways, meticulously groomed lawns, and exquisitely built structures. Deep red brick and glass lend a weight to the buildings, while the high-reaching steel and glass make it not too stuffy.

  It's probably one of the best maintained High Schools in the state, I think, but too bad it's filled with a bunch of douches.

  Despite my fondness of my high school, I’m glad it’s my last year. My four years of tenure has been filled with nothing but drama and hopefully I'll be moving on to bigger and better things once I sail off to college.

  I would miss Silver Lake Falls, though. Silver Lake was a small, bustling town in the northwestern part of the country that has a booming economy, mainly due to the abundance of growth in its IT sector. Once a rich bedroom community, it was now becoming a place of economic power. In less than three years the town's population had grown from ten-thousand to well over twenty-thousand before stabilizing and slowing down before growth exploded too much to take away the small town charm.

  It’s an amazing town.

  I like to think that after I graduate with a good degree, I'll come back home to Silver Lake Falls and live out my life here well into old age. After all, I love it here. Nothing can beat a small town community where every one knows each other and every one comes together, even if there is the small town gossip and pettiness to deal with. But I won't settle down until I see what the world has to offer. I’ve never been anywhere else and I at least need a taste of the real world before deciding what I want.

  I'm a bit early as usual and I see the other early birds milling about, some gathered around their favorite hangout spots, talking and goofing around. I see mostly familiar faces and a few new ones, but I'm surprised to see how much people are staring at me. Mainly guys. Hot guys. The type of guys that would never look at me twice.

  Is there something wrong with my outfit? I wonder, pausing to look down at my skirt. I'd chosen the outfit before I left home because, one, it was new, and two, I thought I looked good in it. Not too slutty, but not too chaste. It makes my legs look long by riding the line on SLHS's dress code on skirt length, and the flare makes my waist look smaller than it is. I also have on a white blouse with a few pearl highlights, but it's nothing to get excited about.

  After a moment, I continue on. I can't find anything wrong with my outfit, and I have no idea why I’m all of a sudden getting so much heat, but I swear one guy's head almost turns like the exorcist to keep his eyes on me as I walk by. If he'd snapped around any harder I think he would have broken his neck. Actually, I remember him, and I think the world might be a better place if he does break his neck.

  I ignore him and continue on my way through campus. I've almost made it to the building that contains my locker when I cross by The Fountain, a beautiful construction made of marble with an exquisitely crafted owl at the top that is surrounded by two of the main academic buildings and the cafeteria, completing a quad. The Fountain is Silver Lake High's most popular hangout spot and a place I often like to avoid because of the annoyance factor. I don't know why I'd walked right into it, but I suppose I hadn't been looking.

  Not surprisingly, a group of jocks are crowded around The Fountain, laughing and telling stupid jokes. They're like a pack of wolves practically, and more than once I've compared them to what Mr. Cashion showed us in tenth grade science when he'd pull out National Geographic videos. I try to sneak past them with my head down, hoping no one will notice me. Fat chance. All they have the mental capacity to do is crack jokes and notice people.

  “God damn Whitney!” A popular athlete named Cory Dunham exclaims as I walk by. Cory is one of the more competent ballers on the school's football team and is also one of the biggest man whores on the planet. If you have a pulse and a vagina, he would come sniffing around at some point, I'm sure. “What have you been eating? You got thick as hell!”

  “Fuck yeah,” says Gabe Hackman, another douche jock that was just as much of a man whore, biting his lip as if he's looking at a quarter pounder with cheese. “She's got an ass fatter than Kim Kardashian now. The good type, too.”

  I blush furiously, not sure how to respond. In a way I feel insulted to be compared to a Kardashian, and in another I’m flattered. But I can't figure out the sudden interest in me. None of these guys ever noticed me before, outside of insulting my appearance, and now they were practically drooling over me? Something must be in the air.

  Instead of engaging them, I continue on, ignoring their catcalls.

  “Hey!” Cory yells, waving with his arms. “Get your sexy ass back here!”

  Sexy ass? What is that guy smoking? I've never been accused of being sexy in my life. I'm the girl who disappears, remember guys?

  I make it inside the school building and find my way to the locker hallways when what they were saying about me registers, and realization washes over me in a wave of awesomeness. It's the weight. I'd often been told by guys and girls alike that I was too skinny, so over the summer I'd been a little more liberal when it came to eating. It's not like I went all out, but I also let go of my stupid fear of anything with carbs in it. I think my absolute favorite discovery, though, was pasta. Mom could make some mean spaghetti, especially when she paired it with a tomato and Italian sausage sauce.

  Who knew that stuffing my face with food would have resulted in me becoming more desirable?

  Walking through the hallways, I receive more stares and guys ogling me, but I ignore them and make it to my locker. It's new and a bit unsettling to get this much attention, and I'm not sure if this is all just some sort of fluke.

  I’m fumbling with my locker combination when I hear the sound of footsteps to my right, but I put my head down, hoping they'll not make another wisecrack. I've hit my limit this morning.

  “Hey Chica,” a familiar, cheery voice chirps instead, and my mood lifts immediately. “Long time no see.”

  I look up into the smiling face of my childhood best friend, Danielle Vaughn and crack a huge grin. She looks cute today with her two blond side pony tails and red skirt topped by a white blouse. Her legs are long and sexy, and the red heels she’s wearing only further accent them. I’m happy to see her since I haven't seen her all summer due to her family vacation.

  Before I can respond, her eyes widens, her mouth dropping open in surprised admiration. “Good God, did you inflate those things or something?” she demands, staring at my chest. “Stuffed your bra with golf balls?”

  I glance down at my breasts and then let out a laugh. “No,” I say. "Besides, golf balls? I'd hoped for at least oranges."

  “Then what the hell happened to you?”

  “I don't know. I just filled out a bit I guess. That and I ate what I wanted for once.”

 
Danielle bites her lower lip, looking my body up and down. “Well, shit girl, put me on that diet then. You're smokin'!”

  I giggle again at Dani's exaggeration. The girl can always crack me up.

  “And I'll take that ripe ass while your at it,” she adds, smacking me on the butt. “Damn, it even wiggles now.”

  I laugh harder and smooth out my skirt where Dani has rumpled it. “Girl, please.”

  “Seriously. You've gotten so curvy, you could give Kate Upton a run for her money.”

  “Okay, now you need to stop.”

  Dani whips her tails, and I swear if the idiots in Hollywood ever want to make a young Harley Quinn movie, I know exactly who they should cast. Dani even knows who that character is, she introduced her to me. “I’m not lying to you.”

  I stop fiddling with my locker and glance around. I see several guys looking our way, one of them even grins at me. “Well, you know what? Ever since I walked on campus I've received non-stop stares from all the guys,” I tell her. “Isn't that just weird? I couldn't get one to look at me ever, then I go away from the summer, and now the whole athletic department wants me? I walked by the Fountain coming in, and I thought I was going to start a riot.”

  Dani shakes her head again. “Girl, I'm telling you, you were a stick figure when I last saw you, now you actually have some curves. And they're in all the right places.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I think.”

  Dani grins at me. “Trust me, this year . . . you'll get laid, that's for sure.”

  “So how was your trip to Italy?” I say, quick to change the subject. The last thing I want to think about is having pre-marital sex. Mom is overly religious and that's one of the things she never shuts the hell up about. When my boobs started to get bigger, she even made a comment that she could 'see my dirty pillows,' before half smiling at the joke. I hadn't laughed.

  Dani's grin twists into a sour expression. “It was alright . . . I guess.”

  “What do you mean, you guess? You've been wanting to go to Italy since like our sweet sixteen birthday parties. You talked so much about Michelangelo's David last year I thought you were gonna hump the thing when you finally saw it in person.”

  “Well I had fun and all, but our parents made me room with Joseph.”

  Joseph is Dani's brother and is actually pretty cute and sweet. He's a sophomore this year, and is probably hanging out in the quad with his buddies. Like I say, he's nice, he just isn't my type.

  “So what was so bad about that?” I ask. “I thought you loved your brother.”

  “I do! But I don't love his farts.”

  “Dani!” I protest, trying not to laugh too hard.

  Dani scowls, her mouth drawing down into a little point. “Sorry. I can't help it. He was cutting those stinky things like he was slicing Swiss cheese. Or maybe aged Parmesan, considering where we were.”

  I gag, I can't help it. “Okay. Stop. Now.”

  Dani lets out a laugh. “It's so fricken’ easy to gross you out.”

  “Which is why you should show some restraint and not do it.”

  Dani grins. “Never.” She starts to finger her blond locks then stops. “So I've been thinking, Whit.”

  Oh boy. It was never good when Dani thought about anything. Did I mention she'd make a good young Harley Quinn? Brilliant and crazy, that's Dani Vaughn.

  “About?” I ask wearily.

  “I got an idea while I was in Italy.”

  Even worse.

  “Huh?”

  “You know how you made that offhand comment about wanting to join the cheerleading squad last semester.”

  “Uh . . . yeah?” I remember. I said it mainly because I'd been so hard up for a date that I'd been desperate to try anything, including flipping around in a short skirt in order to catch some attention from the type of guys I like. I can't help it, while their attitudes and behavior is disgusting, the image of a strong jock in my mind sends tingles through my skin.

  “And have you been practicing the moves I showed you, like your promised?”

  I nod. I don't say it, but I suspect that all those tumbling moves had been part of the reason my new weight has gone on in a good way and not a bad one. “I didn't have much else to do besides eat and look up the colleges I want to apply to.”

  Dani looks pleased and says, “Well, I wanted to officially invite you to try out.”

  I drop my jaw. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, why not? You're my best friend and this is our last school year together. Why not experience something you haven't done before and make the most of it?”

  It's hard to close my mouth. I can't believe Dani is asking me to join the cheerleading squad since she always calls me clumsy as hell, and with good reason. I've spent years being all errant elbows and hip bones, and now she's asking me to do cheerleading?

  “When are tryouts?” I finally manage. Dani can't be denied.

  “Today after school in between the football field and the band practice area. And don't you dare think about saying no.”

  I pause for a moment, thinking it over. Besides going out there and doing something clumsy and embarrassing Dani in front of the squad, I couldn't think of one good reason not to go at least give it a try.

  What do I have to lose? I think to myself. The worse that can happen is I do awful and they reject me.

  Usually, rejection terrifies me, but with all the positive reaction I've gotten this morning has me feeling cheery and willing to try anything. I'd been practicing the moves Dani had taught me all summer so I wouldn't exactly be going in a total noob. Heck, I might even go out there and even show up Dani once or twice, and I think she’s an awesome cheerleader.

  “Don't make me have to drag your new bubble butt ass out on the field,” jokes Dani, mistaking my silence as resistance. "And if you say you don't have any clothes to wear, I will stuff you in one of those nasty ass PE uniforms Coach Roberts lends out to the kids who forget to bring theirs from home. Don't worry about the t-shirt, you can use a team one, but you better have some exercise clothes."

  I chuckle and reply, “I'll drag it out there myself, thank you very much. And I've got something to wear. I think.”

  Chapter 2

  Troy

  “Gawd . . . damn! Who is that?” exclaims Russ Bowden, pushing his rust colored hair out of his eyes and doing a double take. "Did we get a new transfer student from the Playboy Mansion or something?"

  I was sitting in the bleachers texting on my cell while my friends and teammates drooled over Silver Lake's cheerleading squad practice. It was a customary tradition for the guys to come sit around whenever there were new tryouts and bet money on which cheerleader would be having sex with them before the season was out.

  Usually, I'd partake in the betting right along with them, my junior year I'd gotten a cool two hundred dollars from my haul, but I'm just not in the mood today. I'd gotten into a nasty argument with my drunk for a father before I left home and I was ready to smash faces . . . not pussy. Besides, I'm a senior now, chasing freshman and sophomore ass is supposed to be beneath me, and I know all the upperclass girls. At least I think I do.

  “That's Whitney Nelson,” Cory, who is sitting to my right, says. Cory's the biggest player on the team, and I don't mean size wise. The man has a list of conquests that would make Leo DiCaprio jealous, although me personally, I thought Cory's focus on quantity took off points due to lack of quality. But to give the man credit, he has a great eye for the female figure.

  Russ makes a face, his eyes going wide as saucers. “That's Whitney Nelson? Pancake Nelson? Bullshit.”

  Cory nods. “Yup.”

  “No fucking way!”

  “Crazy ain't it? She's a knockout now,” Cory added.

  Russ snorts, shaking his head. “Knockout is an understatement. That bitch stacked.”

  I look up from texting on my cell to see what all the fuss is about. My heart skips a beat and my mouth goes dry when I see her. I remind myself not to drop
my fucking phone, I don't have the money to replace it if I crack the screen.

  Oh my fucking God.

  A girl with long, wavy auburn hair, a heart shaped face and a voluptuous body is doing tryout exercises with the cheerleading squad. Her whole body moves with a sensuality that I've yet to see. I'm instantly turned on by the sight. Seriously, she's going to make me pop wood in front of all my friends. It's crazy. I've seen a lot of hot girls, but this one takes the crown.

  To say she’s beautiful is like saying the sky is blue. You don't argue that shit, you just accept it.

  What I can't understand, though, is why haven't I ever seen her before? The other guys, they're all talking like they know who this girl is, but I'm racking my brains, and I'm drawing a blank.

  “Ten bucks says I'll have her sucking my dick by the end of tonight,” boasts Cory.

  Russ lets out a rowdy laugh. “Ten bucks? Fuck, dude, a hundred says she'll be riding me after practice!” Russ does a little dance in his seat, moving his arms all around like he's riding a pony. “Gangam Style!”

  All my teammates howl with laughter, but I'm not amused, and a dark, violent anger surges through my chest, surprising me.

  “Shut the fuck up!” I seethe, barely holding back from it becoming a bellow. The words leave my lips before I can stop them. I'm not sure what's gotten into me. I never cared before who they laid claim to, it's all just a game anyway. But right now, I'm about three seconds from taking the football team's starting tailback and safety and seeing if I can throw them out of the stands off the backside. “None of you dickwads are getting shit!”

  My teammates are momentarily stunned into silence by the venom in my voice. They're used to me being aggressive on the field, but never angry. In fact, some of them had never seen me angry, to all of our benefit. I prefer to get my high school diploma through school and not a jailhouse correspondence course.

  “Shit, Troy, what crawled up your hairy ass and died?” Cory gets the courage to ask a second later. "Not into K-pop or somethin'?"

  “Nothin,” I say, calmer now. “Just that I know none of you have a chance with her is all. Girl like that, she ain't gonna be going home with any of you jackoffs.”