Chronicle 4
“The Big Man On Campus: The First Day of School”
Early September 1980,
Crestview High School,
Provo, Utah Province, Republic of Cascadia
John Davis stood outside the main entrance of Crestview High
School.
He did this every year.
“Welcome back!”
A boy waved.
Davis waved back.
“Good morning, Mr. Davis!”
“Morning!”
Another student approached.
Davis raised his hand.
The student slapped it.
“Good to see you!”
“You too, Mr. Davis.”
Then came a girl.
“Principal Davis!”
Davis smiled.
“Look at you!”
The girl hugged him.
Davis hugged her back.
It was a particularly enthusiastic hug.
“Good summer?”
“Great!”
“Glad to hear it.”
She continued inside.
Davis watched the next group approach.
To most of Crestview's students, John Davis was simply
Principal Davis.
He was getting older. His hair was getting thinner. He
smiled a lot. He knew an impressive number of students by name and had a habit
of treating them as though he was genuinely happy to see them.
Sometimes he waved.
Sometimes he shook hands.
Sometimes he gave high fives.
Sometimes he hugged.
He particularly enjoyed the hugs from some of Crestview's
prettier young women.
Nobody knew quite what to make of that.
Davis wasn't outwardly creepy.
He didn't make crude remarks.
He didn't corner students.
If somebody didn't want him touching them, he didn't.
Mostly he seemed like a friendly, somewhat overly
affectionate old man.
…and compared to some of the principals elsewhere in Utah
Province, students could do considerably worse.
John Davis wasn't a dictator.
He didn't care how long a boy's hair was.
He didn't care whether a girl wore makeup.
He didn't care if students disagreed with him.
He didn't care what they did with their uniforms so long as
what remained could reasonably be described as a uniform and Cascadian law
permitted them to wear it in public.
The Deseret Council had cared considerably more.
The Cascadian Supreme Court had ultimately sided with Davis.
That alone had made him something of a legend among
Crestview students.
What they didn't know was why John Davis had become so
attached to them in the first place.
Davis had developed testicular cancer as a teenager.
He survived.
The treatment had consequences.
John Davis would never father children.
He had wanted them.
Eventually, he found Crestview.
Generation after generation of students passed through his
school.
Davis watched them arrive frightened and awkward.
He watched them grow.
He watched them graduate.
Some came back years later with children of their own.
Somewhere along the way, the distinction between being like
a father to his students and treating them with the affection of one had become
increasingly blurry.
Sometimes blurrier than it should have been.
“Chloe!”
Chloe Summers grinned.
“Hi, Principal Davis!”
She walked straight towards him and hugged him.
Davis laughed and hugged her back.
“Good summer?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I got grounded.”
“Then I assume you deserved it.”
Chloe looked offended.
“Why does everybody say that?”
“Experience.”
Davis released her.
“Welcome to Crestview.”
“Thanks!”
Joey stood several feet behind her.
Davis looked at her.
“…and you must be new.”
Joey nodded.
“Joey Robertson.”
“John Davis.”
He offered his hand.
Joey looked at it.
Davis lowered it.
“That's fine too.”
Joey looked slightly surprised.
“Welcome to Crestview, Joey.”
“Thanks.”
Davis smiled.
“Try not to burn the place down.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Excellent. We're already getting along.”
Chloe laughed.
The girls headed inside.
Joey waited until they were well beyond the entrance.
Then she looked back.
Davis was hugging another girl.
Joey made a face.
“What?” Chloe asked.
“Nothing.”
“That's not your nothing face.”
“You've known me for about a week.”
“…and I already know your nothing face.”
Joey looked back again.
“Do you think he did it because he wanted pretty girls to
stare at?”
Chloe frowned.
“Did what?”
“The uniforms.”
Chloe stared at her.
“No!”
“Think about it.”
“Joey!”
“I'm serious.”
Joey lowered her voice.
“He fights the Council all the way to the Supreme Court so
girls can walk around school dressed like this?”
She gestured towards herself.
Chloe looked at Joey's uniform.
Then her own.
Then towards the entrance.
Davis was greeting another student.
Chloe frowned.
“No.”
Joey waited.
“No,” Chloe repeated.
Another pause.
“…probably.”
Joey stared at her.
Chloe looked increasingly uncertain.
“I don't know.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe.”
Joey made another disgusted face.
“That's gross.”
Chloe continued watching Davis.
Then a male student approached him.
The boy's uniform shirt was completely open.
He wasn't wearing anything underneath it.
Both sleeves had been torn off.
Davis grinned.
The boy opened his arms.
Davis hugged him.
Hard.
The boy lifted Davis several inches off the ground.
Chloe watched.
Davis laughed as the boy put him down.
Chloe turned towards Joey.
“Nope.”
“What?”
“He's just really, really, really huggy.”
Joey looked back.
Davis slapped the boy on the shoulder and sent him inside.
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves he hugs boys.”
“I didn't say he only hugs girls.”
Chloe considered this.
Joey shook her head.
“I still think he's weird.”
“He is weird.”
“…and maybe a creep.”
“Maybe.”
Chloe looked down at her uniform.
Then she shrugged.
“I'm not changing this.”
Joey looked at her.
“I like it.”
“Even if you're right?”
“Even if you're right.”
Chloe adjusted her shirt.
“If Principal Davis is a creep, that's Principal Davis'
problem.”
Joey's expression changed.
Chloe looked at her.
“What?”
“I agree.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
Joey glanced down at her own uniform.
“I'm not changing mine either.”
Chloe smiled.
“I spent too much time cutting these shorts.”
“That too.”
Joey looked back towards the entrance.
“…and I'm not letting some creep decide what I get to wear.”
Chloe nodded.
“If he changed the rule because he's a creep, the rule's
still good.”
“Exactly.”
“Bad reason. Good rule.”
“Exactly.”
Chloe smiled.
“You're agreeing with me.”
“Don't get used to it.”
They continued down the hallway.
Behind them, John Davis greeted another student.
This time with a wave.
Then another.
High five.
Then another.
Hug.
Joey glanced back one final time.
“Really huggy.”
“I told you.”
“Still weird.”
“I told you that too.”
Joey faced forward.
“I'm watching him.”
Chloe laughed.
“Of course you are.”
Paul Ritter had names.
Lots of names.
Unfortunately, he needed fewer of them.
He sat behind his desk with a pencil in one hand and
Crestview's prospective roster spread across several sheets of paper.
Some decisions were easy.
Some weren't.
Quarterback wasn't.
Ritter stared at three names.
MUNSON, BOBBY
MUNNERLYN, JENSEN
RYDELL, THOMAS
He scratched something beside Thomas' name.
Then erased it.
Someone knocked on the open door.
Ritter didn't look up.
“Yeah?”
“Busy?”
Ritter recognized the voice.
He looked up.
John Davis stood in the doorway.
“Very.”
“Excellent.”
Davis walked in anyway.
Ritter returned to his papers.
“How's the first day?”
“Wonderful.”
“Good.”
“So many new faces.”
“Usually happens.”
“So many beautiful new students this year.”
Ritter stopped writing.
He looked up.
Davis smiled.
Ritter stared at him.
“What?”
Ritter continued staring.
“What?”
“They're fourteen.”
“I didn't say I was marrying them.”
Ritter's face tightened.
Davis waved him off.
“Oh, relax.”
Ritter looked back down at his roster.
“Anything else?”
“Nice seeing you too.”
“I'm working.”
“So I noticed.”
Davis pulled out a chair.
Ritter sighed.
Davis sat.
“You're putting an awful lot of work into Christ the
Savior.”
“They're our first game.”
“They're Christ the Savior.”
“They're our first game.”
Davis smiled.
“It's a glorified exhibition game.”
Ritter looked up again.
“No, it's a football game.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
Davis leaned back.
“When was the last time Christ won?”
“Don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“Don't care.”
“They're terrible.”
“Then we should beat them.”
“You will.”
Ritter put his pencil down.
“…and if we walk onto that field thinking we've already won,
we won't.”
Davis smiled.
“Paul.”
“John.”
“It's Christ the Savior.”
“…and three weeks later it's Deer Lake.”
That quieted Davis slightly.
Ritter pointed towards the roster.
“If my players learn they don't have to prepare because the
other team isn't very good, they'll still believe that when somebody good shows
up.”
“The Dragons.”
“The Dragons.”
Davis nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Ritter picked up his pencil again.
Davis leaned forward.
“Have you named your quarterback?”
Ritter stopped.
“No.”
“Good.”
Ritter slowly looked at him.
“Why is that good?”
“Start Munnerlyn.”
Ritter stared at him.
“No.”
Davis blinked.
“You haven't even heard me.”
“I've heard enough.”
“Paul.”
“If you came in here to tell me who starts, you can leave.”
“I'm not telling you.”
“You just did.”
“I'm suggesting.”
Ritter went back to his roster.
“Suggestion heard.”
Davis didn't move.
Ritter sighed.
“What?”
“Do you know what it would mean?”
“Yes. It would mean Jensen starts at quarterback.”
“You know that's not what I mean.”
Unfortunately, Ritter did.
Davis leaned forward.
“Crestview would be the first school in Utah to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Start a Black quarterback.”
Ritter looked at him.
Davis continued.
“A school like ours.”
“A school like ours?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain it.”
Davis hesitated.
“A school that isn't predominantly Black.”
“There you go.”
Davis ignored the tone.
“First one in Utah.”
Ritter picked up his pencil.
“Wonderful.”
“That matters.”
“Not to my offence.”
“It matters to the school.”
Ritter said nothing.
“It would get attention.”
There it was.
Ritter looked up.
Davis smiled.
“Newspapers.”
“No.”
“Television.”
“No.”
“People would come just to see him.”
“No.”
“You don't think they would?”
“I don't care.”
Davis frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because I'm trying to pick a quarterback.”
“Munnerlyn's good.”
“Yes.”
“He might be your best one.”
“Maybe.”
“He's smart.”
“Yes.”
“He can throw.”
“Yes.”
“He doesn't make the mistakes Rydell makes.”
“Everybody makes fewer mistakes than Rydell.”
Davis laughed.
Ritter didn't.
“So what's the problem?”
“There isn't one.”
“Then start him.”
“If Jensen earns the job, Jensen gets the job.”
Davis spread his hands.
“That's what I'm saying.”
“No, it isn't.”
Davis leaned back.
Ritter pointed his pencil at him.
“You're telling me to start him because it'll put Crestview
in the newspaper.”
“That's not the only reason.”
“What are the others?”
Davis hesitated.
Ritter waited.
“It could help him.”
Ritter's expression hardened.
“Help him how?”
“College.”
Davis shrugged.
“Maybe further.”
“The NFL.”
“Why not?”
Ritter stared at him.
“He's Black, Paul.”
“I noticed.”
“Then you know he's going to need help getting those
opportunities.”
Ritter put his pencil down.
He wanted to tell John Davis to get the hell out of his
office.
Instead, he leaned back.
“If Jensen Munnerlyn starts against Christ the Savior, it'll
be because I think Jensen Munnerlyn gives Crestview the best chance to win.”
“Fine.”
“If Bobby starts, same reason.”
Davis nodded.
“If Thomas starts, Olympus help me, same reason.”
Davis smiled.
“That's all I'm asking.”
“No, it isn't.”
Davis' smile faded.
Ritter continued.
“You want a headline.”
“I want what's good for Crestview.”
“I want what's good for Jensen.”
“So do I.”
“Then let him earn it.”
Davis looked at the roster.
“He'll draw crowds.”
Ritter stared at him.
“The school could use the money.”
“We win football games, we'll draw crowds.”
“Paul-”
“We win enough football games, people will pay to watch
Jensen, Bobby, Thomas or, By Jove, the water boy play quarterback.”
Davis smiled slightly.
“You're very stubborn.”
“Yes.”
“I like that about you.”
“I don't care.”
Davis stood.
He walked towards the door.
“Just consider it.”
“I'll consider Jensen.”
Davis turned.
“As a quarterback.”
Ritter picked up his pencil.
“Nothing else.”
Davis watched him for a moment.
“Fair enough.”
He left.
Ritter waited until he heard Davis' footsteps disappear down
the hallway.
Then he looked at the three names again.
MUNSON.
MUNNERLYN.
RYDELL.
He tapped his pencil beside Jensen's name.
The irritating thing was that Davis wasn't wrong about one
thing.
Jensen Munnerlyn might actually be the best quarterback he
had.
Ritter just wanted to be absolutely sure that if Jensen got
the job, everyone- including Jensen- knew exactly why.
Chloe and Joey were halfway down the hallway when Joey
stopped.
Chloe continued several steps before noticing.
She turned around.
“What?”
Joey was staring at a poster taped to the wall.
CRESTVIEW CROWS
CHEERLEADER TRYOUTS
Joey read it.
Then read it again.
Chloe smiled.
“You want to.”
Joey immediately looked away.
“No.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
“You were staring at it.”
“I was reading.”
“You already read it.”
“I read slowly.”
Chloe walked back.
“You want to try out.”
Joey scoffed.
“They don't put girls like me on cheerleading squads.”
Chloe looked her over.
“Girls with red hair?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don't.”
Joey gestured towards herself.
“This.”
Chloe stared.
“What about it?”
“Chloe.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
“I am.”
Joey waited.
Chloe continued looking.
“I don't understand.”
Joey rolled her eyes.
“Cheerleaders aren't exactly known for looking like me.”
“Maybe they should.”
Joey looked back at the poster.
Chloe noticed.
She smiled.
“If I do it, will you do it?”
Joey looked at her.
“What?”
“I'll try out.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
Joey stared at Chloe.
Then smiled.
“You'd actually be good at it.”
“How do you know?”
“You look like a cheerleader.”
Chloe looked offended.
“What does that mean?”
“Blonde. Pretty. Bubbly.”
“I'm not bubbly.”
Joey stared at her.
Chloe reconsidered.
“Okay.”
“…and your boyfriend's a quarterback.”
“One of them.”
“Still counts.”
Joey gestured dramatically towards Chloe.
“You're already culturally a cheerleader.”
Chloe laughed.
“Culturally?”
“Yes.”
“That's stupid.”
“You were pretty good at cheering for Tommy.”
“I got him benched.”
“That wasn't your fault.”
“I know.”
Joey smiled.
Chloe pointed towards the poster.
“So?”
Joey looked at it again.
“If you're doing it…”
“Yes?”
Joey sighed.
“I can't really say no.”
Chloe grinned.
The cheerleading uniform gave Chloe second thoughts.
She held it up.
“This is the whole thing?”
“Yes,” said the girl distributing them.
Chloe looked down.
Then back at the uniform.
The top could generously be described as a sports bra.
CRESTVIEW stretched across the front.
The bottoms were briefs with little frills around the waist.
There was also a choker bearing a small crow.
…and pom-poms.
Chloe held up the briefs.
“These are smaller than my underwear.”
Beside her, Joey was delighted.
“I love it.”
Chloe stared at her.
“Of course you do.”
Joey held the top against herself.
“This is great.”
“There's hardly anything here.”
“Exactly.”
Chloe shook her head.
“This school is weird.”
“You knew that already.”
“I didn't know how weird.”
Joey picked up the choker.
“Oh, I'm keeping this.”
“You have to make the team first.”
Joey looked at her.
“Right.”
For the first time, she looked nervous.
Chloe smiled.
“You'll be fine.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
Chloe picked up her pom-poms.
“…but apparently I'm a natural cheerleader.”
Joey laughed.
“Oh, you're going to be insufferable.”
Chloe Summers was not a natural cheerleader.
This became apparent almost immediately.
“Five, six, seven, eight!”
Chloe went left.
Everyone else went right.
She stopped.
“Sorry!”
They reset.
“Five, six, seven, eight!”
This time Chloe went right.
Everyone else went right.
Chloe smiled.
Then she forgot what came next.
The other girls jumped.
Chloe didn't.
She realized she was supposed to jump.
So she jumped.
Late.
She landed awkwardly.
One of the evaluators wrote something down.
Chloe looked worried.
They moved on to kicks.
Chloe's first was too low.
Her second was considerably higher.
Too high.
She nearly fell over.
Joey covered her mouth.
Chloe glared at her.
“Don't.”
Joey nodded.
She was still laughing.
Then came the cheer.
Chloe could do the shouting.
Chloe was excellent at shouting.
“GO CROWS!”
Unfortunately, there were movements associated with the
shouting.
Chloe forgot two of them.
Her pom-poms collided.
Then she somehow dropped one.
It rolled across the floor.
Chloe watched it.
One of the evaluators watched it.
Chloe smiled weakly.
“Go Crows?”
The evaluator wrote something down.
Chloe sighed.
Then Joey stepped forward.
“Five, six, seven, eight!”
Joey moved.
Chloe stopped smiling.
Not because Joey was bad.
Because Joey wasn't.
Joey hit the first movement.
Then the second.
Then the third.
She jumped.
Landed.
Turned.
Kicked.
Everything seemed to connect naturally.
Joey noticed it too.
Her nervousness disappeared.
She smiled.
Not the little guarded smile Chloe had already learned to
recognize.
A huge one.
“Again,” one of the evaluators said.
Joey did it again.
Better.
“Have you done this before?”
Joey shook her head.
“No.”
“Dance?”
“No.”
“Gymnastics?”
“No.”
The evaluators looked at each other.
Joey looked at Chloe.
Chloe gave her two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Joey laughed.
“Try this.”
They showed her another sequence.
Joey watched carefully.
She tried it.
She made a mistake.
“Sorry.”
“Again.”
Joey tried again.
This time she got it.
Something happened to her after that.
She stopped worrying about whether she belonged there.
She stopped worrying about what the evaluators thought of
her.
She stopped worrying about what cheerleaders were supposed
to look like.
She was having fun.
She liked the movement.
She liked the noise.
She liked the precision.
She liked getting something wrong and immediately trying it
again.
She even liked the pom-poms.
Especially the pom-poms.
By the time she finished, she was breathing heavily and
grinning.
One evaluator leaned towards another.
“Where did she come from?”
Joey heard.
She pretended she hadn't.
Nobody was particularly surprised when the results went up.
Joey pushed through the small crowd.
Chloe stood beside her.
They found Joey's name.
JOEY ROBERTSON — ACCEPTED
Joey stared at it.
Chloe screamed.
“YOU MADE IT!”
Several people turned.
Joey immediately grabbed Chloe.
“Quiet!”
“You made it!”
“I can read!”
Chloe hugged her.
Joey laughed.
Then Chloe looked farther down the list.
Her own name wasn't there.
Her smile faded.
Just slightly.
Joey noticed.
“Oh.”
Chloe shrugged.
“I didn't make it.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Why?”
Joey stared at her.
“Because you didn't make it.”
“I dropped a pom-pom.”
“That doesn't mean-”
“I nearly kicked myself in the face.”
Joey laughed despite herself.
Chloe smiled.
“I wasn't very good.”
“You could try again.”
“Maybe.”
Chloe looked back at Joey's name.
Then grinned.
“…but you made it!”
Joey's smile returned.
“We're celebrating.”
Joey's smile disappeared again.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don't want a celebration.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That's not a reason.”
Joey looked around.
“I don't like people making a big deal about me.”
“Too bad.”
“…and you didn't make it.”
“So?”
“So that's s***y.”
Chloe frowned.
“What is?”
“Celebrating when you didn't make it.”
“Why?”
“Because it'll make you feel bad.”
Chloe stared at her.
“No, it won't.”
“Chloe.”
“I'm disappointed.”
Joey's expression softened.
Chloe shrugged.
“I wanted to make it.”
“I know.”
“…and I didn't.”
“I know.”
“That sucks.”
Joey nodded.
Chloe smiled.
“…but you did.”
Joey looked at her.
“…and I'm happy for you.”
“You don't have to be.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don't.”
“I want to be.”
Joey went quiet.
Chloe pointed at the list.
“You were amazing.”
Joey looked down.
“You deserve this.”
Joey swallowed.
“…and we're celebrating.”
“Chloe-”
“No.”
Joey looked at her.
Chloe folded her arms.
“I'm your best friend. I'm allowed.”
Joey's eyes widened slightly.
Chloe smiled.
“Unless you've changed your mind about that.”
Joey hugged her.
Hard.
Chloe stumbled backwards.
“Okay!”
Joey didn't let go.
Chloe laughed and hugged her back.
Joey closed her eyes.
Yesterday, she hadn't known Chloe Summers existed.
Now Chloe was celebrating something she'd failed at because
Joey had succeeded.
Joey still wasn't sure she understood people like Chloe.
She wasn't sure she ever would.
One thought kept running through her head.
How did I get to deserve this friendship?
She held Chloe a little tighter.
Maybe someday she'd figure it out.
The three of them found each other again in the hallway.
Tommy saw Chloe first.
That wasn't unusual.
He usually saw Chloe first.
She was coming towards him with Joey beside her.
Chloe was smiling.
Joey was trying not to.
Tommy looked between them.
“What happened?”
“Joey made cheerleader!”
Tommy stopped.
“You did?”
Joey shrugged.
“Apparently.”
“She was amazing.”
“I was okay.”
“You were amazing.”
Joey looked at Tommy.
“She dropped a pom-pom.”
Chloe's smile disappeared.
Tommy looked at Chloe.
“You didn't make it?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Chloe shrugged.
“I was terrible.”
“You weren't terrible.”
“I nearly kicked myself in the face.”
Tommy considered this.
“That's pretty terrible.”
Chloe hit his arm.
“Ow!”
Joey laughed.
Tommy smiled at Chloe.
“I guess I'm not dating the cheerleader.”
Chloe stared at him.
Tommy's smile slowly disappeared.
“Was that bad?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Chloe smiled.
Then kissed his cheek.
“…but I'll forgive you.”
“Good.”
“We're celebrating Joey.”
Joey groaned.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I already told you I don't want-”
“…and you're coming.”
Chloe pointed at Tommy.
Tommy blinked.
“Okay.”
“You don't have a choice.”
“I said okay.”
“Good.”
“I would've come anyway.”
“I know.”
Joey looked between them.
“You two are exhausting.”
The warning bell rang.
Students around them began moving faster.
Tommy looked down the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“Religion,” Chloe said.
“Me too.”
Joey looked at her schedule.
“Us too.”
Tommy brightened.
“Good.”
“Different class,” Chloe said.
Tommy's face fell.
“What?”
“We're in different cohorts.”
Tommy took Chloe's schedule.
He compared it to his own.
Religion.
English.
Math.
Lunch.
Physics.
Geography.
He looked at Chloe's.
Religion.
History.
Biology.
Lunch.
Math.
English.
Tommy looked horrified.
“I only see you at lunch.”
“…and after school.”
“That's hours.”
Chloe laughed.
“You'll survive.”
“We've always been in school together.”
“Not every class.”
“Most of them.”
Joey looked at Tommy.
“You'll manage.”
“You don't know that.”
“I have faith in you.”
Tommy handed Chloe's schedule back.
“I don't.”
The second bell hadn't rung yet.
Tommy pulled Chloe towards him.
Chloe smiled.
“Tommy.”
“What?”
“We have class.”
“Not yet.”
He kissed her.
Chloe kissed him back.
Joey watched.
Then looked away.
Then looked back.
They were still kissing.
“Okay.”
Neither stopped.
Joey folded her arms.
“You know, I can see why being the third wheel might get
annoying.”
Chloe laughed against Tommy's mouth.
The bell rang.
They separated.
Tommy sighed.
“Stupid bell.”
“Lunch,” Chloe said.
“Lunch.”
She kissed him once more.
Quickly.
Then she and Joey hurried away.
Tommy watched them go.
He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do without
Chloe until lunch.
Apparently, school.
Tommy found an empty desk.
He sat down.
Then noticed the girl beside him.
She was tiny.
Not merely short.
Tiny.
Tommy looked at her.
She looked back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You were staring.”
“Sorry.”
The girl continued arranging her books.
Tommy glanced at the name written across the top of one
notebook.
THICKEISHA MUNNERLYN
Tommy looked at her again.
“Munnerlyn?”
She looked up.
“Yeah.”
“Are you related to Jensen?”
“My brother.”
Tommy smiled.
“I play football with him.”
“I know.”
“You know me?”
“Jensen talks about the quarterbacks.”
Tommy leaned forward.
“What'd he say?”
She smiled.
“I'm not telling you.”
“Why?”
“Because then he'll stop telling me things.”
Tommy nodded.
“Fair.”
He looked at the notebook again.
“Thickeisha?”
“Keisha.”
“Okay.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
Tommy hesitated.
“You don't look like a Thickeisha.”
Keisha stared at him.
Tommy immediately wondered whether he had made a terrible
mistake.
Then she smiled.
“You should ask Jensen how strong I am.”
Tommy frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Ask Jensen.”
“Why?”
“Just ask him.”
Tommy continued staring at her.
Keisha opened her textbook.
Tommy decided he would definitely ask Jensen.
The teacher entered.
Everyone stood.
They began with the Lord's Prayer.
Then the Hail Mary.
Tommy knew both.
Almost everybody did.
When they finished, everyone sat.
The teacher opened the textbook.
“Religion is more than faith.”
Tommy looked at Keisha.
Keisha looked at Tommy.
“It is the story of civilization itself.”
Keisha slowly looked back towards the front.
Tommy opened his textbook.
The first section began with Genesis.
The textbook apparently intended to begin at the beginning.
The absolute beginning.
Creation.
Adam and Eve.
Cain and Abel.
Noah.
Abraham.
Moses.
Everything.
Eventually, assuming they survived, they would reach
Revelation.
Tommy flipped through several hundred pages.
There was a lot of Bible between them.
The teacher continued.
There were dates.
Maps.
Historical references.
It was supposed to be history.
Mostly, it was Bible study.
The difference was that whenever they reached a new place,
person or event, the textbook stopped long enough to explain the history around
it.
Where the Israelites were. Who ruled the land. Who their
neighbours were. What those neighbours believed. Why everybody was fighting
everybody else.
Then it went back to the Bible.
All of it had been written by Mormon clerics, which meant
the history tended to arrive already knowing what it was supposed to mean.
Tommy might have found some of that interesting.
Unfortunately, before they could get to any of it, they had
to start with Genesis.
Page one.
Tommy looked at Keisha.
Keisha looked at Tommy.
They both looked at the several hundred pages still to come.
Tommy yawned.
His eyes closed.
Something hit his elbow.
Tommy woke up.
Keisha was looking forward.
He looked at her.
She didn't move her head.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
A few minutes later, his eyes closed again.
Keisha kicked his shoe.
Tommy woke up.
He sat straighter.
Five minutes later, his head began dropping.
Keisha sighed.
She jabbed him with her pencil.
Tommy jumped.
The teacher looked towards him.
“Mr. Rydell?”
Tommy straightened.
“Yes?”
“Would you like to tell the class what I just said?”
Tommy stared.
Keisha stared forward.
Tommy looked at the board.
“No.”
A few students laughed.
The teacher didn't.
“Then perhaps you'd like to remain awake.”
“Yes.”
The teacher continued.
Tommy leaned towards Keisha.
“I hate this.”
“So do I.”
“It's the first class.”
“I know.”
“We have a whole year.”
“I know.”
Tommy stared towards the front.
“This is going to be awful.”
Keisha nodded.
When the bell finally rang, Tommy was out of his seat almost
immediately.
Keisha joined him in the hallway.
“What do you have?”
“English.”
Keisha checked her schedule.
“Me too.”
Tommy smiled.
“Good.”
They started walking.
“What after that?”
“Math.”
Keisha smiled.
“Me too.”
Tommy stopped.
“You're in my cohort.”
“Looks like it.”
Tommy resumed walking.
“Thank God.”
Keisha laughed.
“What?”
“I thought I was going to be alone all day.”
“You've known me for fifty minutes.”
“That's enough.”
“No, it isn't.”
“It is today.”
Keisha shook her head.
They continued down the crowded hallway.
Tommy talked.
Mostly about football.
Keisha listened.
Mostly.
Every so often, her attention drifted.
A girl passed them.
Keisha watched her.
Another group approached.
Two boys and a girl.
Keisha's eyes followed the girl.
Tommy noticed.
He didn't say anything.
A few moments later, another girl walked past.
Keisha looked again.
Tommy looked at Keisha.
Then ahead.
He had known her for fifty minutes.
Some things probably required fifty-one.
Tommy had survived until lunch.
Barely.
Religion had tried to kill him.
English had nearly finished the job.
Math had apparently been included to make absolutely
certain.
Fortunately, Keisha had spent most of the morning preventing
him from falling asleep.
By lunch, Tommy had decided he liked her.
“You sitting with anybody?”
Keisha shrugged.
“Usually Jensen.”
“Sit with us.”
The invitation came out before Tommy thought about it.
Keisha looked at him.
“Who's us?”
“Chloe and Joey.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
Keisha smiled.
“Sure.”
They found Chloe and Joey near the cafeteria.
Chloe saw Tommy.
Tommy saw Chloe.
They walked towards each other and kissed.
Joey watched them.
Keisha did too.
Joey glanced at Keisha.
There was something in her expression.
Not anger.
Not exactly.
Something closer to disappointment.
Then Keisha noticed Joey looking at her.
Joey looked away.
Keisha didn't.
Joey looked back.
Keisha smiled.
Joey smiled too.
Tommy and Chloe finally stopped kissing.
“This is Keisha,” Tommy said.
Keisha was still looking at Joey.
“Hi.”
Joey was still looking at Keisha.
“Hi.”
Tommy looked between them.
Chloe looked between them.
Nobody said anything.
“This is Joey,” Tommy continued.
“I figured.”
Joey smiled.
Chloe looked at Tommy.
Tommy looked at Chloe.
Neither said anything.
They went to eat.
Jensen found them several minutes later.
“There you are.”
Keisha looked up.
“Hi.”
Jensen looked around the table.
Tommy.
Chloe.
Joey.
Then his sister.
“You made friends.”
Keisha shrugged.
“Apparently.”
Jensen smiled.
“I was looking for you.”
“You can sit.”
“Thanks for the invitation.”
He sat beside her.
“I usually eat with her,” Jensen explained.
Tommy nodded.
“Then eat with her.”
“I was planning to.”
“Then why are you explaining it?”
Jensen stared at him.
“I don't know.”
Chloe laughed.
Lunch continued.
Nothing particularly important happened.
Which was unusual for them.
They complained about religion.
Tommy complained about English.
Keisha complained about math.
Joey complained about almost everything.
Then Chloe opened the lunch Lily had packed for her.
She stared at it.
“What?” Tommy asked.
Chloe didn't answer.
“Chloe?”
“We dissected something.”
Joey stopped eating.
“What?”
“In Biology.”
Tommy looked at Chloe's lunch.
Then Chloe.
“What?”
“Mr. Bonkers.”
Keisha laughed.
“His name is Bonkers?”
“Mr. Bonkers.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Joey smiled.
“I already like him.”
“I don't.”
Chloe pushed her lunch away.
“He had us dissecting right before lunch.”
Jensen frowned.
“On purpose?”
“He had to know.”
“Know what?”
“That we'd have lunch after.”
Tommy looked at the food Lily had made.
“You gonna eat that?”
Chloe pulled it towards herself.
“Yes.”
“I thought you weren't hungry.”
“I'm not.”
“Then-”
“You're not getting it.”
Tommy sighed.
Conversation moved on.
The only unusual thing was Joey and Keisha.
Joey looked at Keisha.
Keisha looked at Joey.
Then one would notice the other looking and look away.
Then the other would look.
Then they'd both look.
Then they'd both look away.
Jensen noticed.
Chloe noticed.
Tommy noticed.
Nobody said anything.
Eventually Jensen left.
Then the warning bell rang.
Everyone stood.
Tommy looked at his schedule.
“Physics.”
Chloe sighed.
“Math.”
Joey looked at hers.
“Math.”
Keisha checked hers.
“Physics.”
Nobody moved.
Tommy looked at Keisha.
Keisha was looking at Joey.
Joey was looking at Keisha.
Tommy looked at Chloe.
Chloe looked at Tommy.
Tommy tilted his head slightly.
Chloe understood.
“I'll walk you to Math.”
“You don't have Math.”
“I know.”
Chloe smiled.
“Okay.”
Joey looked at them.
“You're leaving?”
“Yes,” Tommy said.
Keisha looked at him.
“…but we have the same class.”
“I know.”
Keisha stared.
Tommy smiled.
“You'll find it.”
Keisha's eyes narrowed.
“Thanks.”
“Come on.”
Tommy took Chloe's hand.
They walked away.
Joey watched them disappear.
Then she looked at Keisha.
Keisha looked at Joey.
“Hi,” Joey said.
Keisha smiled.
“Hi.”
“We already did that.”
“I know.”
Neither moved.
Students passed around them.
Joey looked down the hallway.
Then at Keisha.
Then down again.
“I should probably go.”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Joey suddenly opened her bag.
“Wait.”
She found a piece of paper.
Then a pen.
She wrote something.
Fast.
She handed it to Keisha.
Keisha looked down.
A phone number.
“My number,” Joey said.
“I figured.”
“You don't have to call.”
Keisha looked up.
“Do you want me to?”
Joey hesitated.
“Yes.”
Keisha smiled.
“Okay.”
She took Joey's pen.
“What are you doing?”
Keisha wrote another number underneath Joey's.
“My number.”
“Oh.”
“Now you can call me.”
Joey smiled.
“Okay.”
Neither left.
The bell was getting closer.
“We really should go,” Keisha said.
“Yeah.”
Neither moved.
Keisha stepped closer.
Joey didn't move away.
For several seconds, they just looked at each other.
Then Keisha kissed her.
Joey froze.
Only for a moment.
Then she kissed Keisha back.
The hallway disappeared.
The classes disappeared.
The other students disappeared.
For a few seconds, neither one cared where she was supposed
to be.
Then the bell rang.
They jumped apart.
Joey stared at Keisha.
Keisha stared at Joey.
“S***.”
“We're late.”
“I know.”
Neither moved.
Joey started laughing.
Keisha did too.
“We really have to go.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
“Call me.”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
Keisha smiled.
“Promise.”
Keisha kissed Joey.
Joey froze for half a second, caught in between rushing to
class and wanting to spend more time with Keisha.
Then she kissed her back.
Neither of them seemed particularly interested in getting to
class anymore.
Joey pulled away just enough to breathe.
Keisha looked down the hallway.
Joey followed her eyes.
A bathroom.
They looked at each other.
Neither said anything.
They ran for it.
The door closed behind them.
Mrs. Kershaw noticed Thomas Rydell fall asleep.
She did nothing about it.
There had been a time when she would have stopped class.
There had been a time when she would have walked over to his
desk.
There had even been a time when she might have tried to
discover why a fourteen-year-old boy couldn't stay awake during his first
Physics class of the year.
That time had passed.
Mrs. Kershaw had been teaching for thirty-seven years.
If Thomas Rydell didn't care whether Thomas Rydell learned
Physics, Mrs. Kershaw wasn't going to care for him.
Unfortunately, Thomas did care.
He just wasn't used to being awake this early.
Mrs. Kershaw didn't know that.
So Tommy slept.
He woke when the classroom door opened.
Tommy blinked.
He looked at the clock.
Almost half an hour had passed.
Keisha stood in the doorway.
She had a very large smile on her face.
“Sorry, Mrs. Kershaw.”
Mrs. Kershaw looked at her.
Keisha giggled.
“The tacos didn't go down well.”
Mrs. Kershaw stared.
“Sit down, Miss Munnerlyn.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Keisha hurried towards her desk.
Tommy watched her sit beside him.
He leaned closer.
“You didn't have tacos.”
Keisha looked at him.
Tommy looked at the smile still plastered across her face.
Keisha's smile got wider.
Tommy reconsidered.
He faced forward.
He didn't need to know.
By the end of the day, Chloe had reached an important
conclusion.
“This is too much homework.”
Tommy looked at the books in her arms.
“It's the first day.”
“Exactly!”
They were gathered outside Crestview with Joey, Keisha and
Jensen.
“We just got here.”
Keisha nodded.
“She has a point.”
“Thank you.”
Tommy yawned.
Keisha looked at him.
“You don't get an opinion.”
“Why?”
“You slept through half the day.”
“I did not.”
“Religion.”
“A little.”
“English.”
“Barely.”
“Physics.”
Tommy paused.
“That was a lot.”
Jensen looked at him.
“You better not sleep on the football field.”
“I don't sleep at football.”
“Good.”
“Football's interesting.”
Chloe stared at him.
“So is school.”
Tommy looked at her.
“No.”
Joey shrugged.
“I'm not worried about it.”
Chloe looked at her.
“How?”
“I've got all night.”
Joey stopped.
Her expression changed.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Cheerleading practice.”
Chloe smiled.
“You forgot?”
“Apparently.”
“So when are you doing your homework?”
Joey thought about it.
She shrugged.
“When I need to.”
“Joey.”
“I'm not missing cheerleading.”
Nobody answered.
Joey looked almost defensive.
“I like it.”
Chloe smiled.
“I know.”
“I really like it.”
“I know.”
“So I'll figure the rest out.”
The football players began heading towards the field.
Jensen nodded towards it.
“We should go.”
Tommy sighed.
He turned towards Chloe.
“See you after?”
“Maybe.”
“What does maybe mean?”
“It means I have too much homework.”
Tommy kissed her.
Chloe kissed him back.
“See you after,” Tommy said.
Chloe smiled.
“Probably.”
Nearby, Joey and Keisha hugged.
It lasted longer than most hugs.
Keisha pulled back slightly.
Joey didn't completely let go.
For a moment, they looked at each other.
Both thought about it.
Neither did it.
There were too many people around.
Too many eyes.
Neither knew what Tommy would think.
Or Chloe.
Or Jensen.
Neither knew that none of them would have cared.
Jensen probably would have been happy for his sister.
Chloe definitely would have been happy for Joey.
Tommy probably would have asked why they hadn't told him.
…but Joey and Keisha didn't know that yet.
So they hugged once more.
Then Joey went to cheerleading.
Tommy and Jensen went to football.
Chloe started home.
Keisha didn't.
Chloe stopped.
“Where are you going?”
Keisha kept walking.
“Somewhere.”
“That's helpful.”
“Thanks.”
Chloe watched her.
Then followed.
Keisha looked back.
“Why are you following me?”
“I'm curious.”
“About what?”
“Where you're going.”
Keisha shrugged.
“Okay.”
They eventually reached a gravel parking lot.
Chloe looked around.
There wasn't much there.
An aluminum-sided building stood at the edge of the lot.
Keisha stopped.
She looked down.
Then picked up a rock.
Chloe watched.
Keisha threw it.
BANG.
The rock struck the aluminum wall.
Chloe jumped.
“What are you doing?”
Keisha ignored her.
She picked up another rock.
She stared at the building.
Threw.
BANG.
Almost the same place.
Chloe looked at the two marks.
Keisha picked up another.
“Are you trying to hit that spot?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Keisha threw.
BANG.
Closer.
“Pitching.”
Chloe frowned.
“With rocks?”
“I don't have a baseball.”
“Why are you pitching rocks at a building?”
Keisha looked at her.
“Because I want to pitch.”
Chloe waited.
Keisha picked up another rock.
“I want to play in the Premier League.”
Chloe blinked.
“Baseball?”
“No. Bowling.”
Chloe stared.
Keisha smiled.
“Yes, baseball.”
“You want to play Premier League baseball?”
“Yes.”
Keisha threw again.
BANG.
“I want to be the first Black woman to make a Premier League
roster.”
Chloe looked at her differently now.
“You can do that?”
“Why couldn't I?”
“I didn't mean-”
“I know.”
Keisha smiled.
“There've been women before.”
“Really?”
“Maven Totts.”
Chloe searched her memory.
“Who?”
“Played in the forties.”
“Oh.”
“There've been a few others since.”
Keisha picked up another rock.
“Just no Black women.”
She threw.
BANG.
“Jensen says pitching is my best chance.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't have to be the biggest person on the
field if nobody can hit what you're throwing.”
Chloe looked at Keisha.
Then at the wall.
Then at Keisha again.
“You're really small.”
Keisha slowly turned.
Chloe smiled.
“You are.”
“I know.”
Keisha handed her a rock.
“Try.”
Chloe looked at it.
“I don't know how.”
“Neither did I.”
“What do I do?”
Keisha showed her.
“Don't just throw with your arm.”
Chloe tried to copy her stance.
“Like this?”
“No.”
Keisha adjusted her.
“This?”
“Better.”
Chloe looked towards the mark on the wall.
She threw.
BANG.
Both girls stopped.
Chloe looked at the wall.
The rock had landed surprisingly close.
Keisha looked at Chloe.
“Again.”
Chloe picked up another.
She threw.
BANG.
Closer.
Keisha narrowed her eyes.
“Again.”
Chloe threw another.
BANG.
Keisha stared at the wall.
Chloe smiled.
“Am I good?”
“No.”
Chloe's smile disappeared.
Keisha grinned.
“…but you're not bad.”
“I've thrown three rocks.”
“Exactly.”
Chloe picked up another.
She threw.
BANG.
Keisha watched it hit.
“You should try out.”
“For baseball?”
“In the spring.”
Chloe laughed.
“Me?”
“Why not?”
Chloe looked at the rock in her hand.
Nobody had ever suggested baseball to her before.
She threw again.
BANG.
She liked that sound.
Chloe smiled.
“Maybe we'll both make the Premier League.”
Keisha laughed.
“You've thrown five rocks.”
“I'm planning ahead.”
“Very far ahead.”
Chloe picked up another.
“You said you want to be the first Black woman.”
“I do.”
“So you can be first.”
“How generous.”
“…and I'll be second.”
Keisha stared at her.
“You're not Black.”
Chloe looked down at herself.
“Oh.”
Keisha burst out laughing.
Chloe started laughing too.
“You know what I meant!”
“No, I really don't.”
“I meant we'll both play!”
“First we have to make Crestview.”
Chloe looked at the aluminum wall.
She picked another target.
“Okay.”
She wound up.
“Crestview first.”
She threw.
BANG.
Keisha smiled.
“Then the Premier League.”
“Then the Premier League.”
Joey loved cheerleading.
She had been a cheerleader for less than a day.
She already loved cheerleading.
“Again!”
Joey raised her pom-poms.
“C! R! E! S! T!”
She turned.
“V! I! E! W!”
The squad finished together.
Joey landed.
She was breathing hard.
She was sweating.
She was smiling.
“Better,” the captain said.
Joey looked at her.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“I thought that was pretty good.”
“It was.”
“Then why'd you say better?”
“Because it was better.”
Joey stared at her.
The captain smiled.
“You'll get used to me.”
One of the other cheerleaders put an arm around Joey.
“Don't worry. She gets nicer.”
“I heard that.”
“You were supposed to.”
Joey laughed.
That was another thing she was getting used to.
Touching.
There was a lot of it.
Arms around shoulders.
Hands grabbed when somebody needed help balancing.
High fives.
Hugs when somebody finally got something right.
Girls leaning against each other while they rested.
Nobody seemed to think anything of it.
More importantly, nobody seemed to think anything of doing
it with Joey.
That was new.
“Water.”
Everybody broke.
Joey headed towards the bench.
Someone handed her a bottle before she could get one
herself.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Joey drank.
Another girl sat beside her.
“You're really good for your first day.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously.”
Joey looked down.
“Thanks.”
She wasn't used to compliments either.
At home, nobody particularly cared whether Joey was good at
anything.
Most of the time, nobody was around to notice.
Here, people noticed.
When Joey got something right, somebody told her.
When she got something wrong, somebody showed her how to fix
it.
When she fixed it, they celebrated.
When somebody else got something right, everybody celebrated
them too.
Nobody seemed worried there was only so much praise to go
around.
That was strange.
Joey liked strange.
“Back up!”
Everyone stood.
Joey hurried back into position.
They practiced another routine.
Joey missed a step.
“Other way!”
Joey corrected herself.
“That's it!”
They started again.
This time Joey got it.
The girl beside her grabbed her hand.
“Yes!”
Joey laughed.
They continued.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The strange thing was that Joey wasn't getting tired of it.
Her body was getting tired.
Her legs certainly were.
…but Joey wasn't.
She wanted another routine.
Another cheer.
Another chance to get something right.
Another chance to hear somebody tell her she'd done well.
She hadn't expected this.
She'd expected cheerleading.
She hadn't expected this.
Whatever this was.
By the middle of practice, Joey had stopped worrying about
whether she belonged.
By the end, she was beginning to feel as though she did.
That frightened her a little.
Joey was good at being alone.
Being alone was easy.
Nobody could forget about you if you weren't expecting them
to remember.
Nobody could abandon you if you weren't relying on them to
stay.
Nobody could disappoint you if you didn't need anything from
them.
Cheerleading seemed determined to ruin that entire system.
“Joey!”
She looked up.
A pom-pom came flying towards her.
She caught it.
“Nice!”
Joey smiled.
She'd known these people for hours.
Somehow, she already wanted to come back tomorrow.
…and the day after that.
…and the day after that.
It wasn't just a team.
Not to Joey.
She didn't have a word for what she was feeling yet.
Or maybe she did.
She just didn't want to use it.
Family.
Joey looked around.
No.
That was ridiculous.
She'd been here one day.
“Joey!”
“What?”
“You're drifting!”
“Sorry!”
She hurried back into position.
Maybe family was too much.
For now.
Practice eventually became less serious.
They'd done the routines.
They'd practiced the entrances.
They'd gone through what they were supposed to do Friday
night against Christ the Savior.
Now everybody was exhausted.
Joey sat on the floor stretching one leg.
Quietly, almost without realizing it, she started singing.
“I love playing with fire…”
Someone looked over.
“Wait.”
Joey stopped.
“What?”
“Were you singing Joan Jett?”
Joey looked at her.
“You know Joan Jett?”
“Of course I know Joan Jett.”
Joey smiled.
“Finally.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nobody knows who I'm talking about.”
Another cheerleader looked over.
“What are you talking about?”
“Joan Jett.”
“Who?”
Joey pointed.
“See?”
The first girl laughed.
“Keep singing.”
Joey immediately stopped smiling.
“No.”
“You were just singing.”
“To myself.”
“So?”
“So that's different.”
The captain looked over.
“You sing?”
“No.”
The girl beside Joey frowned.
“You literally just did.”
“That wasn't singing.”
“What was it?”
Joey thought.
“Making noise melodically.”
A few girls laughed.
“Sing something.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
Joey stood.
“Absolutely not.”
The captain looked at her.
Then smiled.
“I've got an idea.”
Joey didn't like that smile.
“No.”
“I haven't said anything.”
“Still no.”
“Friday.”
“No.”
“You don't even know what I'm asking.”
“I know enough.”
The captain walked towards her.
“Sing This Great Western Land.”
Joey stared at her.
“No.”
“Before the game.”
“No.”
“We always have somebody sing it.”
“Great. Find somebody.”
“We just did.”
Joey shook her head.
“No.”
Someone behind her spoke.
“You'd be good.”
Another joined in.
“Do it.”
Then another.
“Come on, Joey.”
“No.”
“You can sing.”
“You heard six seconds!”
“It was a good six seconds.”
Joey looked around.
This was getting out of control.
“I just made the team.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“Sure it does.”
“No, it doesn't.”
The captain folded her arms.
“You afraid?”
Joey narrowed her eyes.
“That isn't going to work.”
“Wasn't trying anything.”
“Yes, you were.”
The captain smiled.
Joey looked around.
Everybody was watching her.
Normally, that would have been enough.
Joey hated being the centre of attention.
Attention meant scrutiny.
Scrutiny meant judgment.
Judgment meant somebody eventually deciding they didn't want
you around.
Except nobody here looked like they were waiting for her to
fail.
They looked excited.
For her.
“You really think I could do it?”
“Yes,” the captain said.
Several others answered at once.
“Yes.”
“Definitely.”
“Do it.”
Joey swallowed.
Friday night.
Football field.
Crowd.
Microphone.
Everybody looking at her.
The thought was horrifying.
Another thought followed it.
Everybody listening to her.
Joey looked down.
Then smiled.
“Fine.”
The cheerleaders erupted.
Joey immediately raised both hands.
“Okay! Okay!”
Someone hugged her.
Then somebody else did.
“You people are insane.”
“You're doing it!”
“I said fine!”
“That means you're doing it!”
“I know what it means!”
Joey was laughing again.
Eventually they let her go.
She stood there with her pom-poms hanging from one hand.
Something had changed.
She'd sung alone plenty of times.
She'd imagined herself on stages that didn't exist.
She'd imagined guitars.
Crowds.
Lights.
People knowing her name.
It had always been a fantasy.
Something Joey did because fantasies didn't cost anything.
…but Friday, people were actually going to listen to her
sing.
Not Joan Jett.
Not yet.
This Great Western Land.
It wasn't exactly how she'd imagined starting.
…but it was a start.
Joey looked around at her teammates.
For once, the idea didn't seem completely ridiculous.
Maybe I can be a rock star one day.
Joey smiled.
Then the captain clapped her hands.
“Again!”
Joey groaned.
“Seriously?”
“Welcome to cheerleading.”
Joey raised her pom-poms.
She wouldn't have traded it for anything.
The second day went better.
Not perfectly.
Better.
Tommy only fell asleep a few times.
Keisha still had to wake him during Physics.
Once with her elbow.
Once with her foot.
Once by whispering his name.
“Tommy.”
Nothing.
“Tommy.”
Nothing.
“Thomas.”
Tommy's eyes opened.
“What?”
Keisha smiled.
“Welcome back.”
Tommy looked towards Mrs. Kershaw.
She hadn't even stopped talking.
“How long?”
“Couple minutes.”
“That's not bad.”
“You're getting better.”
“See?”
Keisha shook her head.
Chloe still thought they had too much homework.
Joey still didn't understand why they had homework at all.
“We're here all day,” Joey said.
Chloe looked at her.
“Yes.”
“So why do they send work home with us?”
“To learn?”
“We were just here learning.”
“Joey.”
“What?”
“You have to do your homework.”
“Why?”
“Because they'll fail you.”
Joey considered that.
“That seems vindictive.”
Lunch was different.
Yesterday, there had been five of them.
Today, there seemed to be everybody.
Jensen brought football players.
Joey brought cheerleaders.
The football players brought friends.
The cheerleaders brought friends.
Some of the friends brought girlfriends.
Some brought boyfriends.
Somebody dragged another table over.
Then another.
Eventually, an entire corner of the cafeteria seemed to
belong to them.
Tommy sat in the middle of it.
He looked around.
People were talking over each other.
Someone was arguing about football.
Someone else was throwing french fries.
A cheerleader was sitting sideways across another girl's lap
because nobody could find another chair.
One of the football players had apparently decided Tommy's
shoulder was an armrest.
Tommy didn't particularly care.
He smiled.
“I guess we're the popular kids now.”
Chloe looked at him.
“You sound happy about that.”
“I am.”
“I can tell.”
Tommy leaned back.
He liked this.
People knew him.
People wanted to talk to him.
People wanted to know who was starting Friday.
Tommy didn't know.
He enjoyed being asked anyway.
Joey was enjoying herself too.
Possibly more than Tommy.
“I'm telling you, she's going to be huge.”
Polly shook her head.
“Nobody knows who she is.”
“That's my point.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
Polly was another cheerleader.
More importantly, Polly knew who Joan Jett was.
That alone had made her considerably more interesting to
Joey than most people.
“The Runaways were better,” Polly said.
Joey stared at her.
“Get away from me.”
“You don't mean that.”
“No. I don't.”
Polly leaned against Joey.
Joey let her.
Someone reached across Joey for a drink.
Someone else bumped into her from behind.
A girl squeezed past and briefly put both hands on Joey's
shoulders.
Another cheerleader stole one of Joey's fries.
“Hey!”
“You weren't eating it.”
“I was going to.”
“Too late.”
A week ago, Joey might have hated all of this.
Too many people.
Too much noise.
Too much touching.
Too many people entering her space without asking.
Today, she barely noticed.
Sometimes she even leaned into it.
Joey had spent most of her life learning how not to need
anybody.
Now people kept giving her reasons to need them.
Or at least want them around.
She liked the jokes.
She liked the arguments.
She liked having somebody pressed against her because there
weren't enough seats.
She liked having people call her name from across the table.
She liked that Polly had already decided they could steal
each other's food.
Joey belonged here.
She didn't know exactly when that had happened.
…but it had.
Keisha wasn't enjoying it nearly as much.
Joey noticed.
Keisha sat beside her.
Mostly quietly.
Whenever Joey laughed with Polly, Keisha looked away.
Whenever one of the other cheerleaders touched Joey, Keisha
looked.
Whenever somebody called Joey over, Keisha seemed to sink a
little farther into her seat.
Joey leaned towards her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You don't look okay.”
“I'm fine.”
Joey watched her.
Keisha looked towards Polly.
Then back at Joey.
“Really.”
Joey didn't believe her.
So she started pulling Keisha into conversations.
“This is Keisha.”
They already knew.
Joey introduced her anyway.
When someone asked Joey about cheerleading, Joey asked
Keisha about baseball.
When Polly started talking about music, Joey asked Keisha
what she listened to.
When somebody shifted closer to Joey, Joey shifted closer to
Keisha.
It helped.
A little.
Not enough.
After lunch, the crowd disappeared almost as quickly as it
had formed.
Classes pulled everybody in different directions.
Eventually Joey and Keisha were left standing together.
Keisha looked down.
“Sorry.”
Joey frowned.
“For what?”
“Lunch.”
“What happened at lunch?”
Keisha looked at her.
“You know.”
“I really don't.”
Keisha sighed.
“All those people.”
“What about them?”
“They like you.”
Joey smiled slightly.
“I think so.”
“A lot.”
Joey waited.
Keisha looked embarrassed.
“I got jealous.”
“Oh.”
“I know it's stupid.”
“No.”
“It is.”
“It isn't.”
Keisha looked at her.
Joey shrugged.
“I'd probably get jealous too.”
“You weren't.”
“Give me time.”
Keisha laughed.
Joey smiled.
“They'll like you.”
“You don't know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because I like you.”
“That doesn't mean everybody else will.”
“No.”
Joey hesitated.
This was harder than singing in front of the cheerleaders.
Possibly harder than singing in front of the entire football
crowd Friday night.
She looked directly at Keisha.
“I love you.”
Keisha stopped.
Joey immediately became nervous.
She didn't take it back.
Keisha's expression softened.
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
Joey swallowed.
“I think I do.”
Keisha smiled.
“I love you too.”
Joey hugged her.
Keisha hugged her back.
Tightly.
For a while neither moved.
Then they separated just enough to look around.
Students were moving through the hallway.
Nobody seemed to be paying attention.
Keisha looked at Joey.
Joey looked at Keisha.
They shared a quick kiss.
Then immediately separated.
Joey smiled.
Keisha smiled.
“Bathroom?” Keisha whispered.
Joey laughed.
“No.”
Keisha looked disappointed.
“Why?”
“Homework.”
Keisha stared at her.
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“You barely did any yesterday.”
“Exactly.”
“So?”
“So now I'm even farther behind.”
Keisha laughed.
Joey took her hand.
“Another time.”
“Promise?”
Joey smiled.
“Promise.”
The bell rang.
Joey groaned.
“See? This is why homework's stupid.”
“What does the bell have to do with homework?”
“Everything.”
“That doesn't make any sense.”
“It does to me.”
They headed towards class.
This time Keisha was smiling.
Paul Ritter still didn't have a quarterback.
This was becoming a problem.
“Again!”
Bobby Munson took the snap.
He dropped back.
Looked left.
Looked right.
Ritter watched him see exactly what he was supposed to see.
The safety had moved up.
The corner was beaten.
Bobby threw deep.
The ball came down several yards short.
The defender turned around and caught it.
Ritter closed his eyes.
“Munson!”
Bobby jogged towards him.
“What'd you see?”
“Safety came up.”
“Good.”
“Corner was beat.”
“Good.”
“So I went deep.”
Ritter stared at him.
Bobby stared back.
“What?”
“Can you make that throw?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I almost did.”
“You threw it to the other team.”
“I just didn't get enough on it.”
Ritter nodded.
“Yes.”
Bobby waited.
“That is the problem.”
“I can make it.”
Ritter sighed.
“Get back in line.”
Bobby jogged away.
Wayne Calder stood beside Ritter.
“He really believes he can make that throw.”
“I know.”
“Confidence is good.”
“Not when reality disagrees.”
Jensen Munnerlyn came in next.
He took the snap.
Dropped back.
Waited.
Stepped up.
Found the receiver underneath.
Completion.
Ritter nodded.
“Again.”
Next play.
Another completion.
Then another.
Nothing spectacular.
Nothing stupid.
Jensen came off.
Calder looked at Ritter.
“He's good.”
“I know.”
“You could start him.”
“I know.”
Ritter didn't sound convinced.
Jensen could run the offence.
That wasn't the problem.
Jensen could read the field.
He had a good enough arm.
He didn't panic.
He didn't try to become something he wasn't.
There were worse things a quarterback could be.
Ritter just wasn't sure Jensen could become the difference
when Crestview needed one.
Then Thomas Rydell came in.
Ritter immediately became annoyed.
Thomas hadn't even done anything yet.
That was probably unfair.
“Set!”
Thomas took the snap.
Three steps.
The receiver broke outside.
The ball left Thomas' hand before the break was finished.
Perfect.
Right into his hands.
Ritter stared.
Calder smiled.
“There.”
“I know.”
Thomas came back.
Next play.
Pressure came from his right.
Thomas stepped away from it.
His first option was covered.
Second option was open underneath.
Thomas looked at him.
Then looked farther downfield.
Ritter's face fell.
“No.”
Thomas moved out of the pocket.
“Rydell-”
Thomas threw.
Incomplete.
“RYDELL!”
Thomas looked over.
“What?”
“What was wrong with underneath?”
“I could've made that.”
“You didn't.”
“I know.”
Thomas looked downfield.
“Again.”
Ritter frowned.
“What?”
“I want to run it again.”
“No.”
“I can make it.”
“I don't care.”
Thomas looked confused.
“I missed it.”
“Yes.”
“So let me do it again.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn't target practice.”
Thomas frowned.
Ritter pointed towards the field.
“You had the first down.”
“I saw him.”
“Then why didn't you throw it?”
“Because I thought I could get more.”
“There it is.”
Thomas didn't understand.
Ritter waved him back.
“Again.”
Thomas returned to the huddle.
Calder watched him.
“He isn't showing off anymore.”
“No.”
“That was your problem Monday.”
“That was one of my problems Monday.”
Thomas took another snap.
The play developed.
Nothing downfield.
Thomas moved.
Bought time.
Moved again.
The pocket disappeared.
Thomas escaped.
He could have thrown the ball away.
He didn't.
He reversed direction.
Ritter's eyes widened.
“Oh, by Jove!”
Thomas avoided one defender.
Then another.
He finally threw on the run.
Completion.
Twenty yards.
Thomas grinned.
Calder laughed.
Ritter didn't.
Thomas looked towards him.
Ritter pointed.
“Come here.”
Thomas jogged over.
“I got it.”
“I know.”
“Twenty yards.”
“I know.”
Thomas smiled.
Ritter didn't.
Thomas stopped smiling.
“What?”
“You could've thrown it away.”
“…but I completed it.”
“This time.”
Thomas frowned.
“If I can make the play-”
“You don't have to make a play every time!”
Thomas stared at him.
Ritter pointed towards the field.
“Sometimes nothing is there.”
“So?”
“So you live with it.”
Thomas looked genuinely confused.
“Why?”
Ritter stared at him.
Because that was Thomas Rydell.
Playing safe had apparently never occurred to him.
If Thomas tried something and succeeded, he wanted to do it
again.
If Thomas tried something and failed, he wanted to do it
again even more.
Failure didn't discourage him.
Failure challenged him.
Ordinarily, Ritter might have admired that.
In a quarterback, it was going to kill him.
“You miss a throw,” Ritter said, “what happens?”
“I make the next one.”
“No. What happens?”
Thomas shrugged.
“I missed.”
“…and?”
“I want another shot.”
“Immediately.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“So I know I can make it.”
Ritter sighed.
“That isn't how this works.”
“Why not?”
“Because the defence doesn't care about your personal
growth.”
Calder laughed.
Thomas didn't.
Ritter continued.
“You don't get points for proving you can make the throw you
missed two plays ago.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop trying to prove it.”
Thomas looked back towards the field.
Ritter could see it.
Thomas understood the words.
He just didn't believe them yet.
“Back in line.”
Thomas jogged away.
Calder folded his arms.
“Still got the best arm.”
“I know.”
“Probably the most talent.”
“I know.”
“Then-”
“I know, Wayne.”
Calder stopped.
Ritter looked across the field.
Four years ago, he'd had Jim McMahon.
That had been easy.
Not always peaceful.
Certainly not quiet.
…but easy.
Put McMahon behind center and let him play football.
Last year Ritter hadn't had a McMahon.
Instead, he'd had three seniors.
None had been exceptional.
All had been competent.
Somehow, quarterback by committee had worked.
One handled certain packages better.
Another read particular defences better.
The third could come in when Ritter needed something
different.
It wasn't elegant.
It won football games.
Now those three were gone.
McMahon was long gone.
…and Ritter had this.
Bobby Munson knew exactly what throw to make and
occasionally forgot he didn't possess the arm required to make it.
Jensen Munnerlyn did almost everything right without doing
anything that made Ritter think that's my quarterback.
Thomas Rydell could do things neither of them could do.
Thomas Rydell also seemed determined to discover every
possible way those abilities could get him into trouble.
…and quarterback wasn't Ritter's only problem.
He looked down his roster.
There were holes everywhere.
A defensive back he still didn't trust.
Two offensive linemen fighting over a position neither
seemed ready to play.
A linebacker situation he hadn't solved.
Depth that disappeared much faster than Ritter wanted it to.
Calder looked over his shoulder.
“It's a transition year anyway.”
Ritter turned.
“No.”
Calder sighed.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“They're young.”
“Some of them.”
“We lost a lot.”
“I noticed.”
“We build this year. Get the young guys experience. Next
year-”
“What about my seniors?”
Calder stopped.
Ritter looked across the field.
“What do I tell them?”
“I didn't mean-”
“Sorry. You're transitioning.”
Calder said nothing.
“You only get one senior year, Wayne.”
“I know.”
“They don't get to come back next year and enjoy whatever we
built.”
Ritter looked at the roster again.
“So I don't believe in transition years.”
Calder nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Ritter watched Thomas take another snap.
Thomas dropped back.
Nothing deep.
He looked underneath.
For once, he took it.
Completion.
Six yards.
Ritter smiled.
Then Thomas immediately began arguing that the receiver
could have gotten another four.
Ritter's smile disappeared.
Calder laughed.
Ritter rubbed his forehead.
There were holes everywhere.
…but if he could solve quarterback...
He looked at Bobby.
Then Jensen.
Then Thomas.
If he could just find his quarterback, Ritter felt like he
could make everything else work.
Unfortunately, the game was tomorrow.
…and Paul Ritter still had three of them.
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