“Why would she get an abortion, then?” Summer asked. “Sounds like she’d want some connection to him. She’d probably keep the baby.”
“That’s just what I heard,” Annie said, annoyed.
There was a shuffling of feet and backpacks, and they left in a herd. After several minutes Sherry carefully let herself out of the stall. To her shock Summer was still there, lost in moody introspection as she stared at her own red-haired, freckled reflection. Sherry’s eyes widened and met Summer’s in the mirror.
“Eavesdropping,” Summer remarked without rancor. “I don’t believe much of what Annie says. You shouldn’t, either.”
Embarrassed, Sherry nodded. After a moment she added, “I don’t want to be the next notch, though.”
“Then you better be careful.” Summer was pragmatic. Always. Sherry learned that fact quickly over the following months for, although she didn’t know it at the time, she and Summer, along with Roxanne, were destined to become good friends — the first truly good friends Sherry had ever known.
But for the moment Sherry was cautious. “What do you think I should do?”
“About J.J.?”
Sherry nodded.
“You really want him?”
“I don’t know.”
Yes
.
“One thing I know about J.J. Beckett, one thing everybody knows about him — he doesn’t want an easy conquest.”
“Right now were just sorta hanging out together. He calls me up and we do something with a bunch of his friends.”
“Never alone?” Summer arched one russet eyebrow.
“Sometimes …”
Sherry didn’t want to talk about that. It wasn’t anybody’s business but hers — and J.J.’s. Yet, she had questions. Questions about how far to go. She knew other kids were doing it, but should she? Did she want to, yet?
Ever since their first kiss, Sherry had dreamed of something more. Passion, desire, aching need. When she was kissing him she felt as if they were melded together. The only two people on earth. All that mattered. But if she had sex with him, what then? Somewhere in the last few months she and J.J. had begun to trust each other. She was J.J. Beckett’s girl now, or so people liked to say — and she liked them to say it. And it wasn’t all just making out, either. J.J. was opening up. After Sherry stopped zinging him with sarcastic remarks, gradually J.J. had warmed up in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible.
In time she believed he would tell her he loved her.
“Hide your feelings a little, girlfriend. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Then you’d better learn. The more you show, the more he knows he’s got you.”
Sherry absorbed the news silently, knowing she would never be able to follow through. The impenetrable wall around her feelings had crumbled, disintegrated completely. She was so in love there was no hope of erecting a new wall now. When J.J. looked at her, really looked at her, she could read his thoughts and knew he was thinking of their private moments together. No, she couldn’t act like she didn’t care.
“Oh, God. You’re a mess, aren’t you?” Summer shook her head dolefully.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” Sherry admitted.
“You love him?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Think he loves you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Fine, tell me about a typical ‘date’ with Mr. All-American.”
“We haven’t been on that many real dates. He kinda comes over to the counter at Bernie’s and talks to me. Then he hangs around and fiddles with the napkin dispenser and the Parmesan cheese… and …”
Did this sound as stupid as she thought it did? Lord, she was an idiot!
“True love,” Summer observed flatly.
“We did go with Ryan and Kathy Pruitt to a movie one night,” Sherry said defensively.
She didn’t add that Ryan and Kathy had made out like crazy in the backseat to and from the movie, and Kathy had shot Sherry sharp, distrustful looks all evening. It had nearly ruined Sherry’s time with J.J. She’d been forced to merely hold his hand in the front seat, too uncomfortable to even share a kiss with the two of them going at it. As soon as she and J.J. were alone, he made her promise they would never go out with them again. It was a promise Sherry could easily keep.
But since that time, things had heated up between them — and Sherry had done nothing to stop it. From their first few times together, when Sherry’s pulse ran a few beats fast, to holding hands or feeling his arm thrown carelessly over her shoulders, to soft, stolen kisses, to a brush of his hands across her hair, ostensibly to pull it away from her face except that his hand lingered, sensuously stroking, before he seemed to recall himself — from those first times, things had progressed at lightning speed. Each time his hands had explored a bit further, tenderly touching while “No” ran through her mind, left unsaid, until she decided that this, too, was okay.
So, where did it end?
“Have you made love yet?” Summer asked.
“No!”
“Good.”
“But… ,” Sherry said with a hard swallow.
“Keep from doing it as long as possible. That’s all I’m saying.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Try not to be alone with him. He’s a really attractive guy and things happen. Make him commit first — but that won’t happen, ‘cause J.J. Beckett doesn’t commit to any girl. Go out with someone else. Keep a lock on your heart. Make him work to win you, and if he doesn’t even try, you haven’t lost anything because he didn’t care in the first place.”
“Wow.” Sherry’s head reeled from Summer’s clinical assessment.
“I’ve been through a few break-ups. They’re not fun. This is your first guy, right? J.J. Beckett’s a bad choice for a boyfriend. Especially a first one. He’s too cute, too popular, and basically too used to having everything come easy.”
“I’m not easy.”
Summer gave her a look Sherry wasn’t sure she liked. “Everyone knows you never have to go home. You’re every guy’s dream.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Who cares? Everyone thinks you are.”
“Well, they’re wrong.” She was burned.
“Then prove it. Leave J.J. alone.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Listen to me. Forget J.J. Go out with another guy. Meet someone new. Toy with some jerk’s emotions like they toy with ours. It’s rotten, I know — ” she spread her hands innocently “ — but it’s the only way I know to come out on top.”
“I don’t think I could be that mean.”
“Just wait for it. Some guy will come along who’s got his own ideas about what you need and how he’ll give it to you. That’s the guy who deserves to be slam-dunked. But not at first. Let J.J. see that he’s interested in you, then do it.”
“Maybe that works for you — ”
“It works for everybody. I’m telling you, if you shower J.J. with attention he’ll lose interest.” She snapped her fingers. “You gotta be smart.”
Sherry went away from that conversation with two ideas beating at her brain: one, she liked Summer, and two, holding on to J.J. would be next to impossible without some sort of manipulative stratagem. Although part of her rejected the idea straight out another part recognized the wisdom of her words. It was as if some distant, primeval feminine piece of herself that had known eons ago to use wiles and deception in order to keep the upper hand in a male-dominated world, suddenly sat up and grew ears. Yes, she needed to play this game. Yes, she needed another attentive male to play his particular role.
But who? How?
The answer dropped his lunch tray on her table with a clatter. “Oops,” he said, grinning like a stooge. Tim Delaney wasn’t bad looking, was a great athlete and hailed from the wealthier side of Oceantides’ tracks, but he was a zero in the charm department and Sherry suspected there was a Vacant sign glowing somewhere inside his head. Still… .
It was child’s play — frightening, really — how little she had to do to win Tim’s attention: a small compliment here, an attentive look there, an expression of admiration when Tim waxed on about how great he was on the football field. Sherry found it so easy, in fact, that she tried out her tactics on other members of the male gender and soon she was surrounded by admirers who stumbled over themselves for the merest sign of her approval.
In the space of a few weeks her popularity quotient rocketed to the heavens. Not only did the guys talk about how great-looking she was, they crowed about how much she liked
them
and how Sherry Sterling was halfway to being
their
girlfriend.
And J.J. Beckett glowered in silence while the Oceantides High girls turned stony and bitter. Except Summer and Summer’s friend, Roxanne. They alone understood what was going on because they thought in larger terms. And they liked Sherry and were willing to open the door to friendship — the best by-product of all.
It was a magical fall, made better by J.J.’s change of attitude. Gone was the cocky boy who charmed with the ease of long practice. In his place was a young man unsure of himself, whose discomfiture around Sherry, and contained fury directed at her admirers, made him seem all the more desirable and finally, attainable, to her. It was sometime during those heady weeks that she realized she would make love to him. It was like an epiphany. He wanted her — he really wanted her — and she wanted him right back. How silly that they’d had to play this game to realize it, but better to play the game than never to understand the prize to be won.
Football season dragged on. J.J. spent all his extra time — which wasn’t much — around Sherry. But she caught him driving by her house and although he’d quit stopping in to talk to her at Bernie’s, on weekends he hung around outside the pizza parlor’s parking lot, talking with a bunch of his friends and hers.
Roxanne and Summer adopted Sherry and would separate themselves from the pack to come and update her. It was as if they were double agents delivering top-secret coded messages.
“Notice the way he looks out of the corner of his eye you. He’s watching, all right,” Roxanne would mumble, her head bent over Bernie’s menu as if she didn’t already know every item by heart.
Summer said, “Yeah, and he’s not that good at it. He wants you to think he’s talking to Kathy and Caroline, but they’re just there for show.”
“You think so?” Sherry asked, hoping it was true, needing to hear it again and again.
“Oh, yeah. You’re playing it right. God, I love it that you’ve got J.J. Beckett!”
“I don’t have him,” Sherry reminded Summer quickly.
“He’s never been like this with anybody else.”
“We barely see each other.”
“That’s because the plan is working,” Summer assured her.
Roxanne snorted. “Besides, you can just tell he’s into you by the way he acts.”
“She’s right. We’ve got a lot of body language going on.” Summer slid a glance outside Bernie’s glass doors to where the group was standing around. J.J. half turned to look, then pretended oblivion.
Roxanne and Summer both eyed Sherry with “I told you so” looks on their faces. Sherry smiled, pleased. They were right. It was working. Except before the plan she and J.J. had been closer. Now they’d taken ten steps backward. When would they make that giant leap forward?
“The guy’s had,” Summer assured her one night while Ryan, J.J. and Matt hung around joking with each other, shooting looks the girls’ way.
“I hope so.” Sherry’s gaze followed J.J.’s broad shoulders.
“Have I been wrong yet?”
“No …”
But Sherry’s doubts remained, hanging just outside of reach. Even when J.J. plugged a quarter into Bernie’s jukebox and The Four Seasons belted out, “Sherry, Sherry baby …” Sherry still couldn’t believe he loved her like she loved him. She’d blown off Tim Delaney long ago and pretty much ignored all the rest of the guys’ attention, but J.J. had kept his distance and things weren’t the same as they’d been at the beginning of school.
October melted into November and finally it was the end of football season. The senior boys’ last game neared and Sherry and J.J. were still at the same stalemate. Oh, they’d started going out together again, but there was no more hand-holding, no more soft kisses and touches, no more passionate touching.
Because she wasn’t naturally manipulative, Sherry suffered serious second thoughts about this plan to attract other male attention in an effort to make J.J. see how desirable she was. All she wanted was to be with him, and she was tired of pretending that she wanted to play the field. It was a dumb game with even dumber consequences.
She was through with it.
The date of the last regular–season game she debated what to do. There were posters and an assembly and cheerleaders jumping around. Everyone was in a frenzy because this one game would determine whether the team would make it playoffs.
Sherry still believed football was a moronic sport made for Neanderthals. Except she couldn’t quite shake the image of J.J. in his uniform–formfitting black pants, blue and gold jersey stretched over muscles and pads. Arm cocked back for a spinning pass. Even she wasn’t immune to that.
And since she wanted to be with J.J. if that meant going to the game and rah-rah-rahing with the rest of the fans, so be it. She was tired of walking by and giving him a quick smile of interest only to flirt with some other guy. It wasn’t her style. And as time passed, she determined it wasn’t even necessary.
So she went to the game and cheered the team on and was slightly ashamed of herself for falling into the fever of it. Every completed pass between J.J. and Tim brought a scream of excitement from her throat. She was hoarse by the end of the game and was swept along with the crowd when they made a long line to welcome their conquering heroes.
J.J. was nearly crushed to death by bear hugs from his own linemen. They lifted him up and down and pounded on their chests and howled like wolves, heads thrown back in victory. J.J. just grinned, even when they doused his head with Gatorade and water.
Briefly, his eyes met Sherry’s. Briefly, a flicker of understanding passed between them. A spark of acknowledgment. A promise. Confused but excited, Sherry waited on the track that surrounded the football field for all the congratulatory nonsense to end and for J.J. to come to her.