Darren was supposed to pick me up, but got into a fight with his brother and ended up grounded. One of the most anticipated parties of the year and he misses it because he lost his temper. What an idiotic thing to do, especially for him.
Darren’s dad is nice and funny, but he’s a red-neck and it drives Darren nuts. To avoid connection to anything ‘hillbilly’ in the eyes of others, Darren acts the total opposite with his tight skinny jeans and fancy artisan coffee. He portrays himself as being too cerebral to bother with anything as crude as a fist fight.
The real tragedy here is that he was my ride. I’m not exactly one of the coolest kids at Perrimon High and certainly not a jock. I can’t just call and tell someone to come and get me. Well, other than Quinn and Eric.
I hear the phone ring and Quinn picks up. “Hey, where are you?” I say, but I know by the sound in the background that he’s already there.
“We’re at the party. Where in the hell are you guys?”
“Darren got grounded.”
“Ha Haaaa!” Quinn yells. “What an idiot!”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. I need one of you guys to come and get me.”
“Dude, I don’t have a car and both Eric and I have done a bunch of shots.”
In the background I hear Eric chime in, “Guess you shouldda bought my truck and you wouldn’t be stuck!” followed by laughter.
I wasn’t sure if he was giggling about his less than clever rhyme or because I could have had my own wheels if I would have coughed up the $700 for his beater pickup truck instead of trying to negotiate a better deal. The truth was I didn’t have $700 and had been working on my parents for a loan.
“Come on you guys,” I pleaded. “I know you just got there. Look, it will take you less than 15 minutes.”
It was only a small lie. The actual time for the full round trip would be more like half-an-hour.
“Seriously,” Quinn said, “we’re in no condition.”
Not believing their story, I tried for a few more minutes, but they didn’t budge. No ride.
Fortunately, I always have Plan B, although I really hate to deploy it. I pulled my old 10 speed bike out of the garage and smiled upon seeing that the tires weren’t flat. I set out for the party with a mental map of the quickest way to Carolyn’s house.
Carolyn Pessero lives on the other side of town in one of the big newer houses. I knew it would take me more than a half hour to ride there, even with all of my short cuts, but it was better than missing all the fun.
As I rode, the brighter stars in the sky shone through the blanket of pollution that stretched across the Santa Clara Valley. The good weather meant it wouldn’t rain – a bright spot in my current circumstance.
Soon the high school campus came into view. This was an easy part of the ride, but it’s dark and abandoned at night. Peddling past the buildings, athletic fields and baseball dugouts I aimed for the hole cut in the chain link fence at the back edge of school grounds.
The hole had been there off and on for at least a decade. The fence blocked the most direct route from the newer neighborhood to the classrooms so within days after it was repaired the hole would magically return. Those in charge must have figured it was a lost cause as it hadn’t been patched in almost a year.
I pushed the bike through the hole, making sure the clipped steel fence ends didn’t catch on my clothing. After another hundred yards the shrubs and scattered trees gave way to a series of square ponds. I’ve been told they are groundwater recovery pools or something like that, but we all called them the percs – short for percolation ponds. There was no moon and the stars that earlier lit my way had dimmed to nothing, so it was very dark. Thankfully, you would have to be almost blind to wander off the trail into one of the pools.
Past the percs I was blocked by a shallow creek. There were plenty of bushes along the banks, so I shoved my bike deep into them for safe keeping.
It wasn’t the best place to hide anything, but I knew Carolyn’s house was close enough to walk to and there was a good chance my bike wouldn’t be seen or stolen while I was at the party. Besides, riding up to the front door would announce to my peers that I didn’t have a car, and even worse, I was too pathetic to find a lift from anyone. I would rather risk losing my bike than allow that kind of damage to my meager social standing.
I stepped from rock to rock across the creek and walked the remaining two blocks. Even though I had never been to Carolyn’s before, the party was easy to find. There was plenty of noise coming from inside and I didn’t bother to knock. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and walked in as if I owned the place. This was a bit of a gamble. If Carolyn was in the front room, she might just yell at me for barging in and then kick me back out. I hoped instead of her, some other girl or two might witness my caviler entrance and secretly be a little impressed. I’m not exactly a hit with the ladies and need any edge I can get.
Stepping inside, I was disappointed that no girls were in eye-shot of my entrance – only a few guys – but relieved not to see Carolyn staring back at me.
“Hey Moss, how’s your mom?” I said to the first guy I passed.
“Fuck you punk!” Moss almost spat at me. “You better not be talkin’ shit about my mom.”
Moss Castillo was hard to figure out. In addition to his strange first name, no one ever quite knew when he was joking and when he was serious. He was definitely a good dude, but really easy to get worked up by talking about his mom. None of the guys had ever even met his mom, as far as I knew, but that didn’t matter. It was the one thing that seemed to put a burr up his ass and was just too fun to leave alone.
It also helped that he was one of the smaller guys, and although he talked a good game, no one really worried about fighting with him.
“I’m not talking bad about her, Moss. She’s a nice lady. A real nice lady.”
The emphasis on ‘real’ gets him even madder.
“Don’t piss me off, Wheat! I’ll put a foot in your ass!”
“Be cool man,” I said with a smile, and walked past him into the kitchen.
I found the guys leaning up against the kitchen counter, discussing what beer was best to serve at a party. They seemed to have agreed on some gross dark beer I’d never heard of.
At 6’3” and over 240 pounds, Quinn was by far my largest friend. He has a tough time remembering when to use his indoor voice, especially when he drinks. Eric has short brown spiky hair and claims his Italian heritage allows him to out-drink anyone in the school. He does seem to maintain the appearance of sobriety many drinks after everyone else has gone loopy.
Both really enjoy their beer and are somewhat overweight.
Quinn spotted me and his deep voice cut through all other conversations in the room. “Look who’s here!”
“Hey, you made it,” Eric said with a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah. No thanks to you,” I replied.
“Come on. You know I would pick you up if I wasn’t drinking.”
There was no slur to his speech, but his heavy eyelids made the case that he probably wasn’t lying and had been fairly liquored up from the get-go.
“OK,” I said, letting him off the hook. “The last thing I need is your drunk ass driving across town to get me. You would probably get lost anyway.”
“Exactly.” He replied, now totally satisfied that I wasn’t upset.
We moved to the garage so I could get the requisite beer in my hand. As mentioned earlier, I’m not exactly one of the cool kids. To show up at a party and not drink at least one beer could easily knock me down another peg. Grabbing a red plastic cup off the stack sitting on the washing machine, I made my way over to the keg. When I finally got to the front of the pack of people around it and saw the color of the liquid pouring out of the tap, I could tell it was of the cheap ‘light beer’ variety. I didn’t ask what kind it was, because I didn’t care. Beer still tastes like beer, which is to say, it tastes bad.
Really though, I didn’t dislike it as much as last year, but it was still just something I drank to 1) fit in better, and 2) because it did loosen me up a little in social situations. Of course, if I drank too many I might make an ass of myself again like I had at Jerry Booker’s party back in December. That night dropped me multiple levels in the eyes of my peers and I was still occasionally feeling the fallout.
Once my cup was full I walked back to the guys and took a sip. It was actually a little better than expected, but definitely one of the more watered down brands. Fine by me.
“So,” I began, “who’s here?” They knew that I actually meant, ‘which girls are here?’
Not like any of us had any game though. We didn’t possess the skill or nerve to actually walk up to a cute girl and have something smart or witty exit our mouths. No, we would spend the evening simply yucking it up with the other guys.
Suddenly Eric’s face got serious, as if he were about to reveal something of great importance. “Well, the hot singles appear to be Jodi Lenninger, Donna Moyer and Jackie Spears.”
“Jackie Spears?” I asked earnestly. I had Biology with her our freshmen year. She was the most beautiful girl in our entire 9th grade class as far as I was concerned. She was completely out of my league and had an older jock boyfriend who rode a motorcycle. Even more remarkable was that she was nice. I said “hi” to her when I could and she never once snubbed me or left me hanging in silence. After building up the courage for a week I asked her to sign my yearbook. She wrote that I was “sweet” and she liked being in Bio with me.
OK, so all she did was say “hi” and sign my yearbook, but it made me very happy.
And now she was back. “Where is she? I want to see her.” I said with a smile.
“Aw, not this shit again,” Quinn started. “You’re not in 9th grade any more. You can’t just stare at her from across the room. You’ll look like a stalker.”
“I won’t stare. I just want to see what she looks like.”
Quinn and Eric shared a look, then Eric shrugged.
“All right,” Quinn said, “but don’t do anything embarrassing.”
“Would I do something like that?” As soon as the question left my mouth I knew what was coming.
“Yeah douchebag. Remember Jerry Booker’s party?”
“Fuck you,” annoyance squeaked in my voice. “I’m not even drunk.”
“Hey, you asked the question.”
He had me there. Instead of replying, I motioned for them to lead the way. We headed back through the kitchen, and came to the dining room which was partially sectioned off with long strips of masking tape going from wall to wall and ceiling to floor like a crime scene. A piece of binder paper attached to the middle of the make-shift wall read ‘Don’t even think about going in here’. It was clearly Carolyn’s writing.
The cherry dining table, chairs and a few other pieces of nice furniture had been crowded behind the tape. Evidently these were items that would get her in serious trouble if they were damaged. Usually people respected such boundaries, knowing that future parties at other kids’ houses were less likely to occur if stuff got destroyed. Once in a while, however, things did get wildly out of hand.
At a party two years earlier (before I ever attended one), the girl throwing it had been foolish enough to leave her house and drive off with her boyfriend right in the middle of the festivities. With no one there to watch over things, a mob mentality developed among some of the rowdier guys. When she returned, potted plants had been thrown into the hot tub and posts from the staircase railing had been pulled out and jammed up through the ceiling.
Eric and Quinn led me past the dining room and out through the sliding glass door into the large backyard screen room.
Jackie Spears was there all right and looked somehow, impossibly, more beautiful than ever. She was a little taller than when I had last seen her and her previously straight hair had some wave to it. Jackie was a little smaller than most of the girls, but simply radiated beauty. I managed not to stare, instead finding and striking up a conversation with a few other guys we knew well.
“Ron and Clancy!” I said. “What’s going on guys?”
“Well if it isn’t Brandon Wheatley,” said Ron. “It’s about time you showed up.”
Ron was a tall as Quinn, but pencil thin. He was the quiet one of the bunch.
“Yeah, well Darren got grounded and these bastards drank 10 shots each,” I exaggerated, “just so they didn’t have to come and get me.”
“Haa!!” Quinn yelled, catching on to my sarcasm. “That’s right! I’d rather drink piss through a fire hose than give you a ride! Ah! Ha Ha! Haaa!”
His joke didn’t make sense or follow the theme of my comment, but he was nearly drunk and this was the best he was going to do.
Ron turned his attention back to me. “Darren’s grounded?”
I nodded.
“What an idiot!” Clancy said.
“That’s what I said,” chimed Quinn.
Every now and then as we talked, I glanced in Jackie’s direction. She was with a few of her old girl friends and of course had a host of boys surrounding her. Over the next 20 minutes she caught me looking at her twice. I quickly averted my gaze, but knew she had me. I’m a bigger idiot than Darren.
“Jesus, Wheat!” said Clancy. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
“What’d he do?” asked Ron.
“He keeps staring at little miss hottie over there.”
“No I don’t!” I lied.
“Then why is your face getting red?”
“It’s not.” I already felt stupid for getting caught by Jackie and scrambled to throw the focus onto someone else. “Maybe yours is red.”
My comment made no sense.
“No, dumbass,” Clancy replied. “A nice thing about being black is no one knows when I’m embarrassed.”
Eric, returning from the garage with a full beer in each hand, said, “Black people don’t get embarrassed?”
“Haaaa!” Quinn yelled inappropriately loud. “You’re even dumber than Brandon!”
At least we were no longer talking about me staring at Jackie. The girl still had an effect on me after all these years and I felt I was just one more sloppy move away from everyone in the house knowing. I resolved not to look towards her at all and even positioned myself so that my back was to her. This went fine for a while until Moss shouted at Quinn from across the room, “Quinn! Where’s my burrito!?”
Clearly, Moss had made multiple trips to the keg. However, his questions made a little sense. Quinn accidentally sat on Moss’s burrito at lunch on Wednesday and, therefore, owed him one.
“Do I look like I have a burrito?” Quinn asked incredulously.
“Go to Del Taco and get me one!”
“Are you high? I’m not walking 6 blocks to get you a burrito.”
As everyone else’s attention turned to the spectacle, I risked another peek toward the girl of my dreams. To my shock, she was looking right at me. For some reason my brain had failed to account for this possibility and couldn’t decide how to react. I stared back. The look on my face must have matched that of a Cro-Magnon man confronted with a calculus problem.
And then… she smiled.
Finally the gears in my head jolted into action again. I smiled sheepishly, turned and walked out of the room.
“But I’m hungry now!” Moss demanded.
The burrito debate faded as I moved along.
I didn’t really have anywhere to go, but felt too embarrassed to linger in the screen room any longer. I headed toward the front room, which was the least crowded. When I got there, my way was blocked by the hulking back of Carl Overfelt. He was easily the strongest guy in school. Unfortunately, he was also the meanest. At present he was cussing at someone – who, I had no idea, because they were completely obscured by his giant form. Carl was 6’6,” nearly 300 pounds and not too much of him appeared to be made of fat, yet he was still plenty wide.
“I’m sick of you anyway,” he growled at whoever it was and apparently holding him or her in place. Then his giant hand rose up to the side, only to clap back down. A body crumpled to the floor. I could see between Carl’s tree trunk legs that it was his girlfriend, Nicole.
She instantly began crying and fortunately her long black hair covered her eyes. No one was in the room but the three of us, so I backed out hoping I hadn’t been noticed.
“Get the fuck out of here, you dirty whore,” Carl roared. I was actually relieved to hear him yell because it meant he was done hitting. Carl always kept his mouth shut until any fighting was over. Nicole probably wouldn’t be struck again… at least not immediately.
I always suspected he slapped her around once in a while. Once when she came to school with a black eye and a few girls asked her about it, her reasoning was shaky. Nobody said anything else until Matt Arnold, whose mouth got him in trouble from time to time, made a smart-ass “wife beater” comment and wound up with two cracked ribs and a broken nose, compliments of Carl. I had hoped Carl would get expelled for that, but Matt kept his mouth shut for the first time in his life and nothing came of it.
The fear of Carl spotting me faded as I moved farther away, but it was quickly replaced by something even less pleasant. I liked to picture myself as being an upstanding guy who would at least speak up if someone couldn’t do it for his or her self. No real situation like that had ever arisen before, and I figured I was up to the challenge. But that image was shattered as I snuck quietly away and left Nicole alone with Carl. I tried to justify it, knowing that I would have been badly beaten up had I tried to interfere, but leaving Nicole crying on the floor still felt absolutely awful.
Making my way to the keg in the garage, I grabbed another plastic cup from the washing machine having left my other one behind after finding Jackie Spears looking at me. The keg pressure was lower now so it took longer to pour, but soon I had another cup of watery beer. Leaning against a work bench, I drank a few sips. Funny, it seemed to have almost no taste at all. Neither good nor bad. My sense of taste had taken a back seat to the other processes running in my head.
I was feeling low and going lower the more I thought about Nicole. What was worse, doing nothing when she was slapped to the ground or silently slinking away? Both were horrible.
Although I knew who she was since the first day of middle school, I had never spoken to Nicole a single time. She was out of my league, but that wasn’t why. Well, that wasn’t the only reason. Jackie was much further out – she was in the majors and I was still playing T-ball – but I could usually muster up the courage to say hi to her. No, that wasn’t it. Nicole and I simply never crossed paths in any real way. We had no mutual friends and for the first six years that we attended the same school we never had a class together. This year, however, we were both in Mr. Henderson’s 4th period American History. Unfortunately, we sat on opposite sides of the room and still hadn’t so much as said hello. It’s not that we were being rude, our lives just hadn’t crossed.
Even so, our lack of a friendship didn’t make me feel any better. I no longer felt like joking around with the guys, or talking with anyone for that matter, and I certainly didn’t want to be near Jackie. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but I didn’t want her to see me after such a cowardly act.
I headed to the back of the house and found both bathrooms occupied. Great. Instead of waiting around outside the door where someone might strike up a conversation, I climbed the back stairs, assuming such a large home must have toilets up there as well.
This part of the house was probably off limits to party goers, so I moved quickly to avoid being seen. So far so good and at the top of the stairs no one was in sight. Choosing the direction that seemed most likely to have a bathroom, I walked down a dim hall. Turning a corner I stepped into the opening of a bathroom and came to a dead stop. My heart made up for the lack of motion by beating triple-time. Once again I found myself looking at the giant back of Carl Overfelt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he said in a menacing voice.
Thinking he heard me approach, I almost blurted out some sort of apology and ran off. However, it became apparent he had no idea I was there when a soft voice from the other side of his hulking frame said, “You get out of my way!”
Holy crap! There was a girl in there and it wasn’t Nicole. No, I knew that voice, but couldn’t put my finger on who it belonged to.
Carl stepped forward toward the girl. “You little tease,” he said, slightly slurring his words. “You think you’re too good for me?”
“Ouch!” the girl exclaimed as he grabbed her arms, pulling them apart. I still couldn’t see her, but she must have had her hands up to ward him off. Now each of Carl’s oversized mitts were closed around her tiny forearms. He pulled them slowly back to each side and leaned towards her face. He was going in for a kiss.
“No!” the girl demanded.
Carl gave an amused grunt as his giant head continued down towards her mouth.
“Hey!” someone yelled, “leave her alone!”
A moment of relief washed over me as I realized someone other than me was about to get his face bashed in. Then I felt sorry for the brave soul and hoped he was a fast runner. With any luck he would escape without a scratch – that is, until Carl caught up with him at school on Monday. All of this took but a second or two… and then I realized that no one else was in the hall and the words came from me!
Carl turned and for the first time I could see that it was Jackie he had cornered! They both appeared surprised at my outburst and I imagined my face held the same look – shock that I dared cross the giant troll.
The next surprise was that Carl didn’t immediately spin around and drive his fist into my face. Instead, he turned back toward Jackie, letting his head linger for a moment to growl in my direction.
“You got one second to get the fuck outta here,” he said.
There was clearly something wrong with me and it wasn’t the beer. Although I filled up twice, I drank less than a cup. No, maybe seeing Nicole crumpled and crying on the floor somehow caused a blood vessel to pop in my head. It didn’t seem likely, but I couldn’t think of a better explanation for what I did next.
“Come on man. Let her out of there,” I said and actually stepped forward towards Carl. “She’s been gone a long time, she doesn’t know…” What am I going to say now? Know what? That you slap your girlfriend around and Jackie might actually be in danger of being raped by you?
He apparently finished the sentence the same way in his head and swung an elbow up and back toward my face. “Get outta here NOW!” he snarled.
I saw it coming and pulled my head back. His elbow grazed me in the nose, but not a crushing blow.
Jackie seemed to be watching us the way a six-year-old might watch two ants fight over a cookie crumb. Instead of fear, there was only curiosity.
Although I’m a little taller than most of the guys at Perrimon High, I’m thin and fairly awkward. Fighting isn’t my thing. But not even a big guy like Quinn was a match for Carl.
Bravery wasn’t my thing either and the tweak to my nose snapped the sense back into me. I was very close to having my face pounded into hamburger and desperately wanted to turn and run. I looked again to Jackie, but her expression made it obvious she had no idea what she was up against.
“Jackie..” I said, but before another word crossed my lips, Carl spun around, put a monstrous hand around my throat, clamped the other down on my bicep and slammed me against the bathroom wall.
“So you wanna be a fucking hero, huh?” He kicked the bathroom door shut so no one would hear what was about to happen, then slammed me against the wall again. My head struck hard and it hurt, but I was more worried about breathing. With both my hands I tried to pry his overgrown fingers off my neck as he pulled back and slammed me into the wall for the third time. Struggling with all my might, I loosened his grip enough to croak out two words. “…jackie…run…”
There really wasn’t anywhere for her to go since Carl and I blocked the way, but she didn’t even try. In fact, she didn’t appear interested in leaving, instead she casually watched us.
How could she be so stupid? I was about to die and then Carl was going to have his way with her on my corpse. Well, I could at least make it as difficult as possible for him to enjoy himself, so I brought my knee up hard and fast into his balls.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!” Carl roared as he crumpled to his knees, his hand still tight around my neck. I half smiled half grimaced as he righted himself. He pulled his free hand back and balled it into a tight fist.
I raised my hands but there was no way to prevent broken facial bones. With my head held firm against the wall, I would receive the full force of the punch.
As I prepared for impact, Jackie finally came to life. “Nooooooo!” she yelled. Carl and I tilted our gaze toward her. To my relief I saw that she held a weapon high over her head, ready to throw it and deal a savage blow to Carl. But my hopes fell just as quickly when I realized it was only a box of tissues. With all her strength she hurled the box, and the Kleenex sailed towards us.
Unfortunately she throws like a girl. The tissues flew harmlessly by, missing Carl by at least a foot. It struck the light switch, putting the bathroom in complete darkness.
This was an unexpected wrinkle, but didn’t necessarily do me any good. I quickly covered my face with both hands to help against the punch that was surely still coming.
But it didn’t. Maybe Carl feared he would miss my face and hit the wall, as unlikely as that seemed. With a grunt he pulled his hand away from my neck without loosening his fingers. It hurt as his nails scraped off layers of my skin. In spite of the pain, I was momentarily free. My chance to –
Too late. My feet were kicked out from under me and I landed hard on my back. Carl grunted again. Then I heard something impact the bathroom counter rather hard, then hit the floor.
Ha! The big freak must have slipped after sweeping my feet into the air. Good.
His moans rose a few feet as he seemingly tried to stand again. Another crack sounded in the direction of the sink followed by louder moaning. Man, was he a klutz in the dark.
I scrambled to my knees and then to my feet. I needed to move fast and get Jackie out of there before Carl could find the light switch. With hands out in front of me, I stumbled forward. I knew it would scare her when I put my hands on her, but there didn’t seem to be another way. If I called out, it would give my position away and Carl might give up looking for the switch and opt for a bigger target like my face.
I shuffled quickly forward, my hands searched the blackness for either Jackie or perhaps a wall, until my foot hits something solid and I pitched forward. The sound was ridiculously loud as I clanged to the bottom of the bath tub.
Crap. He’ll be on me in seconds.
There was some sort of water sounds over near the sink. Carl must have accidentally bumped the faucet. I flailed my arms and still could not find her. “Jackie!” I half cried, getting desperate now. The water sound stopped and I heard her beautiful voice just below one of my outstretched arms.
“I’m here,” she said. “Help me Brandon!”
There was fear in her voice. Reaching down I found her shoulder and fumbled down her arm. She was crouched next to the tub. It’s a wonder I didn’t run into her in the dark. Grabbing her hand I whispered “let’s go” and pulled her to her feet.
She allowed me to guide her. My heart pounded, but I couldn’t be sure if it was fear of death or elation that I held Jackie Spears’ hand. Carl moaned again. We hugged the wall opposite the sink and made a break for it. I was almost to the door when my foot hit something. I brought my other foot quickly over it to stop me from falling forward, but it landed on what I believed to be Carl’s outstretched leg. As I tumbled onto his enormous calf I let go of Jackie, not wanting to pull her down as well.
I figured I was a dead man, but he just moaned again. Wow, he must have really hit his head on something when he fell. For a moment I heard the water sound again. It might have been from the sink or even the toilet. I had been in the dark too long and was getting disoriented. Quickly though, I scrambled off of Carl. Only now, I had no idea where Jackie was. Sweeping my arms back and forth in the dark, good luck struck and I touched her hand. I knew it was her and not Carl because it wasn’t the size of a catcher’s mitt. Quickly but gently I guided her forward while my other hand located the door knob. A moment later we were free.
We hustled down the front stairs into a crowd of people before I realized I still clutched her hand. Trembling, she looked up at me with scared and vulnerable eyes. Without thinking, I took her in my arms. She buried her head in my chest and in spite of my self-loathing earlier, I was the happiest guy on earth.
A few moments later I realize the party was different. Much of the talking stopped and most everyone looked in our direction. Only then did I realize what was going on. There was a mismatch. Like a cat in a swimming pool, Jackie in my arms just didn’t appear right. She was miles out of my league and everyone knew it.
After we embraced, she looked up at me again. A little smeared blood sat on the side of her mouth, which I tried to wipe away with my thumb.
“He hit you!” I said.
“I might have run into something. I really don’t know,” she said and started crying.
“Wheatley, what’n hell did you do?”
I turned my head to see Billy Owens – a southerner who moved up here a few years back, but never lost his accent. He’s one of the stars of the school baseball team and knows how to fight. He and the rest of the cool guys had come over. They weren’t sure what happened, but probably hoped I had done something that required physical payback. It’s certain he didn’t like me comforting Jackie and would prefer to do it himself.
“He saved me,” she said.
I knew that was completely overstating it, but before I could say anything, she continued. “Carl Overfelt cornered me in the bathroom upstairs.”
Eyebrows rose as everyone fully understood the position she was in. They rose even higher when she said, “He beat Carl up and pulled me out of there.”
What! Beat Carl up? He was seconds away from putting me in the hospital. The thing that saved me was Jackie’s terribly off target throw. I tried telling them I didn’t beat anyone up, but everyone began talking at once and several of the guys ran upstairs to see for themselves.
This was all just ridiculous. It got even worse when they returned and told everyone that Carl was a bloody mess and couldn’t even stand on his own. Afterwards I would catch people sizing me up. Guys generally have assumptions and calculations about how good other guys would be in a fight. I could see many of them were recalibrating their take on me.
Jackie and I made sure to be out in the screen room when Carl finally made his way downstairs. From what I was told, he had blood on his face and didn’t want to talk about what happened. My best guess was that he lost his balance while sweeping my legs out from under me and somehow hit his face on the edge of the counter top.
Eventually the party wound down and people began leaving. Billy offered to walk Jackie out to her car. I was mildly annoyed and thought I should get that honor. Wasn’t it me, after all, who had saved her? Well, no. It wasn’t, but Billy didn’t know that.
Oh well. It wasn’t like she was my girlfriend.
“Goodbye,” I said to her, feeling awkward. Our embrace had been so natural hours earlier, but now I felt so common again. She was way out of my league. My heart wanted to hug – maybe even dare to kiss her. The surreal confidence I felt as I held her earlier was completely gone and I wasn’t about to move in for even so much as a handshake.
Her perfect lips formed a slight smile as she looked up at me and I believe she knew exactly what I was thinking. Then she stepped forward, sliding her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she said, and kissed me on the cheek.
I was in heaven again. Her words lost all context in my head. On autopilot, I answered with “Your welcome.”
She smiled again. This time she looked mildly amused. Then turned and walked out with Billy.
‘You’re welcome?’ I thought to myself. What a moron! I don’t know what I should have said there, but that wasn’t it. I was no hero. If she had seen the way I cowardly left Nicole crying on the floor…
That horrible memory flooded back to center stage in my mind, killing the amazing high from Jackie’s kiss.
Read the rest of The Girl I Knew at https://www.amazon.com/Girl-I-Knew-John-Alexander/dp/1511758759
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