Dairy Queen (17 page)

"Oh, yeah. And Dad started hollering so we all ran out thinking the barn was on fire, and there they were all embarrassed, and Win got all mad because it was during football season and he didn't want Bill tiring himself out—"

"You're kidding."

"Mom tried to hustle me and Curtis back inside so we wouldn't see what was going on, like it wasn't completely obvious." I laughed—we both laughed—thinking about this.

"So what'd your dad do?"

"What could he do? It was the middle of the season. Bill was a starter already. I don't know what he did. No one really talked about it much."

"With a senior. Jeez." Brian was still impressed.

"Yeah. She was real pretty too."

"A senior."

We ran along for a bit thinking about that, and after a while it just really bummed me out, the thought of Bill getting all those girls so easily and me not able to get one guy. I don't know what Brian was thinking, but out of the blue he asked about the trip Curtis and me were taking to Madison and started talking about how cool Madison was, how he'd been there lots of times for football games, and normally it would have depressed me to pieces, but instead thanks to Amber I got an idea. A very good idea.

Not that I had any chance to thank her. Tuesday night I had to drive Curtis to a friend's house, and as I was leaving Dad handed me a grocery list of stuff he needed. Which meant I'd have to go into the Super Saver where Amber worked. I was still pretty shook up from our big conversation on Saturday night and not too sure I even wanted to see her, but it's not like when you're shopping for groceries in Red Bend you have much choice of stores.

The minute I went in, I spotted her—you could be legally blind and still see her with that orange hair she had—but I pretended I didn't. I mean, I was going to say hey to her once I was checking out, but it's pretty weird to get all friendly with the checkout people when you just walk in. I think it is, anyway. Amber didn't say anything to me either. I'd say that she didn't see me, but she didn't see me so much that it was pretty clear she wasn't seeing me on purpose.

I wandered around trying to get all Dad's stuff, which turned out to be like one of those TV shows with the obstacle course and the map and this was the final episode. Here's what was on the list: peppercorns, fresh parsley, and lard. I didn't even know they
made
lard. I thought it was some old-fashioned thing, like quill pens. I spent about an hour in the produce section trying to figure out which pile of green stuff was parsley, and finally I had to ask someone about the other two and it took that guy another hour to find lard and he
works
there, and then finally I had peppercorns and a box with LARD in big letters on the side, like they were proud of it or something.

So I headed over to the checkout part but Amber wasn't at her register—another girl was there. I even asked where Amber was and the girl said, all bored, "She went on break. She's not supposed to go on break now but she said it was an emergency."

Well. It was pretty clear that Amber didn't want to talk to me, and I sure wasn't going to poke around out back behind the Super Saver looking for her. So I just went home with my lard, feeling relieved if you want to know the truth, and a little smug too because at least I'd meant to talk to her when I was ready, and once I was home I just tried to get ready for the big trip to Madison.

All week Mom grilled me on it, how to get there and where to stay and where the banquet was even though I knew it pretty much already, and I have to say I didn't give much more thought to Amber. Mom got us reservations in a dorm with a bunch of other families coming in for the banquet, and she gave me money for breakfast and gas, and emergency money just in case. Plus I had to make sure Brian was up to speed on the milking so Dad didn't think we were idiots, which meant a lot of time showing him how to clean the cows' udders and hook up the milk machine and then clean them up all over again when they're done, the cows all irritated and thwacking both of us in the head the whole time with their tails, although I at least was way too preoccupied to notice.

Wednesday afternoon Dad and Curtis went to another PT appointment so Brian and I had a couple hours to work out. We were both in a really good mood. We only had one more workout after this, on Friday afternoon, because preseason started on Monday. I was feeling so fit and psyched and everything, and Brian was too, that we did a whole bunch of tackling drills. Every time I'd come after Brian it took the sting out of things a little more, if that makes any sense. I knew I wasn't cool enough to go out with him ever, or hang out or anything, but at least I could knock him down. It makes me sound like I'm four years old or something. Most of the time I probably am.

Then after some running drills we were so beat that I flopped down right there on the field and looked up at the clouds in the sky making those weird faces they always make.

"Oof," said Brian, falling down next to me. "I am ready to rule preseason."

"I'm ready for my legs to fall off," I said, and we both laughed.

"I really want to thank you for all this," he said.

"What, the football field? Think I could be an NFL groundskeeper?" I grinned.

"I'm serious. For training me. And for talking. It's been real important."

"Don't worry about it." I grinned again. I mean, what else could I say?

We lay there for a bit, listening to the birds and everything, and it was just really nice and peaceful. After a while I started dozing I think because I was so beat. I could hear Brian next to me, rustling. Then—I hate to write this, just thinking about it makes my hands sweat, it was absolutely the most horrible moment of my life—

He kissed me.

That part wasn't horrible. It wasn't—well, in the movies they make it out to be nice and soft, and the music starts and birds sing and two people gaze into each other's eyes. The problem is the movies never show how you're supposed to
warn
someone before you do that. You don't just lean over and do that right out of the blue to someone who has their eyes closed.

It would have been nice, it really would have been, if I'd had just a second to enjoy it. Just a second to think to myself that Brian had his lips on mine and he was kissing me in a really romantic way that was better than anything I'd ever let myself hope for. And someday, maybe, if I'm reincarnated or something because nothing that nice will ever happen to me again as long as I live, I'll be in that situation again and I'll handle it right. Or maybe the guy will warn me.

Because Brian didn't warn me, and I felt this thing and sat up with a jerk and smacked my head into his nose and he started bleeding. That was the horrible part.

And I won't go into any more detail except to say that I apologized at least ten thousand times and ran around trying to find him cold water because God knows there wasn't any ice up there in that field, and we ended up using his T-shirt to stop the bleeding, which probably wasn't the best thing to ever happen to his T-shirt in the history of the world, and eventually he could laugh about it but I couldn't. And this probably won't surprise you, but we didn't once for the rest of the day try kissing again.

When he left that afternoon, he was still making little jokes that were probably funny but just cut through me like knives. We didn't run, which probably doesn't surprise you either. I just walked him to his car with his T-shirt all wadded up to hide the bloody part, and his face didn't look that bad either, all things considered. We'd washed the blood off.

"I'm real sorry," I said for the 10,001st time.

"It's okay. I can barely feel it. I think you snapped a nerve or something." I must have looked so awful that he added really fast, "I'm kidding."

I nodded miserably.

He climbed into the Cherokee. "Hey. Cheer up, okay?"

I nodded again.

"So I'll see you Friday afternoon? One last workout?" And he, well, he touched my hand a little bit. Not much, but enough. Enough for me to think that maybe I could just live through the trip to Madison and everything, long enough to make it to Friday.

So the next morning, right after milking and breakfast, we set off for Madison. If you ever have to drive anywhere for five hours and you're sitting by yourself or with my brother Curtis, which is basically the same thing, and you're looking for topics to think about to pass the time, I have a few to suggest:

1. You're crazy in love with a guy who's way too cute and popular and smart for you, and you'd do almost anything to get close to him, and then when out of the blue he tells you he's just broken up with his girlfriend and kisses you, you break his nose. Well, I didn't break it technically, but that doesn't matter. Every time I thought about what had happened I'd blush deep red. Then eventually I got to the point where I didn't blush, I'd just feel like throwing up. Because even if his breakup did have something to do with me—which was impossible to believe except for that kissing part—there sure wasn't any way it would matter anymore.
   
2. You find out that for the past few years you've been dating your best friend without even realizing it. That in and of itself could cover an hour or two. Jeepers. That image of Amber crying on the hood of the Caravan—I won't be forgetting that anytime soon. I'd never had a conversation, a real conversation, with her until Saturday night because, I realized now, any conversation would probably lead right to the Big One. About you-know-what. And if Amber couldn't talk to me about that, well then, I guess she figured she couldn't talk to me about anything. I'll tell you one thing: I sure didn't feel like talking to her now. I had this horrible fear that she'd find out somehow, she'd dig it out of me the way she does, what happened between Brian and me kissing and all, and then she would never for the rest of my life let me forget it. If she was going to take off whenever I showed up, that was A-okay with D.J. Schwenk.
   
3. You try to figure out what it will be like playing football—if I could even play football, seeing as Jeff Peterson hadn't yet told me yes—with thirty-odd boys who probably aren't altogether happy with the notion of having a girl on their team. And even if I didn't make the team, I still had a couple days to get through before cuts. I'm pretty tough, but it can get ugly out there sometimes. Ask anyone who's ever played football. Like my two brothers, who have stories that would chill your blood. Or Dad, who lost his teeth, and his hip eventually, playing tackle.
   
4. You've decided that you really have to cut off your hair, which is hard enough, but now you have to figure out how. Amber—my old friend Amber, not the new stranger Amber I didn't like thinking about—read once that if you want a good haircut, ask someone whose haircut you like where they got it done. So, if you want to know the absolute truth, that was the big brilliant idea I'd had, to go to Madison and do exactly that. The only hitch was that it involved a) actually asking someone, which isn't one of my greatest skills, and b) actually going into some hair salon, which I'd never done in my life unless you count Amber's living room. So worrying about that took a couple hours and also left me feeling pretty sick to my stomach.
   
5. You have a little brother who may or may not be afraid to talk, but of course you can't talk about it because that would involve talking. I didn't even get to that one until we started seeing signs for Madison.
   

"How do you feel?" I asked Curtis.

He jumped, and shrugged.

"Are you nervous?" I asked.

He kind of shook his head.

Wow. That sure was a heartfelt conversation.

So I dropped him off at some baseball field so he could take part in an exhibition game for charity or something. I was supposed to stay and watch, but instead I took every ounce of strength I had and drove around until I found a street that obviously cool people used because it had book-stores and bike racks, and I parked our cruddy old Caravan and went into a coffee shop, feeling about as comfortable as a gorilla, staring at everyone out of the corner of my eye until they probably thought I was there to rob them or something. The coffee was good, though. And I had a brownie, but I've got to admit it wasn't as good as Dad's.

Finally, because I didn't have all week or anything, I sidled up to this girl, and I guess I kind of scared her until I could get out that I liked her hair and where did she get it cut. She was really nice about it in the end. She even drew a little map on a napkin because I was so nervous I was having trouble concentrating.

I got to the place and stood outside for a while, screwing up my courage to go in. You're probably laughing reading this, and I guess you have a right to laugh because it is kind of funny. Here I was all ready to try out for football, a sport where people get their legs broken, or their necks sometimes, and yet I couldn't walk into this one little beauty salon.

But finally I did, and I guess I should stop talking about how awful it was, but it was pretty awful, like when they asked if I had an appointment, which I didn't but the girl with the jewelry in her nose said they could take me anyway, and then the shampoo girl had to keep telling me what to do, like how I had to lie back and stuff, and when she asked where I was from I blushed because I might as well have had "farm hick" on my forehead. At about ten different points I would have walked right out but I didn't think fast enough, and then once I had shampoo in my hair I couldn't.

I ended up sitting in front of a mirror with all my wet hair, staring at my reflection and wondering if anyone that bad-looking had ever been in this chair before, while a girl named Mica, which she pronounced Meeka, which is good because who wants to be named after a rock, tugged a comb through. "So what do you want?" she asked.

"Um, a haircut?" I managed to get out.

She smirked kind of. "That's good ... Just a trim?"

"I need it short. Because..." What did I have to lose, telling the truth? "The ponytail rubs against the football helmet."

Mica/Meeka eyed me. "You play football?"