Page 12 of The Bookworm

EIGHT

Friday night rolls around, and it's the big game with the Hatfield Cougars. The Pembroke Pirates have had a rivalry with them for over fifty years, and this game has been long-awaited. It's practically all Talon and Sawyer have been able to talk about this week.

My life was completely different when they competed against the Bandits last Friday. Then, I had to sneak out of the house just to see the man I'd been crushing on for years from afar, knowing it would never amount to anything. Now, I'm sitting in the bleachers in his jacket, surrounded by his friends, who are also cheering him on.

For the first time in a very long time, I'm happy. I don't have to worry about what my dad will say if he catches me here. I'm not sitting alone, self-conscious about the other people around me enjoying the game with their family and friends. I'm one of them.

The thought of it is empowering, and I can't help but smile at myself while watching Talon and Sawyer run onto the field. I stand and cheer for them almost as loud as everyone else. Normally, I would shrink myself down and timidly clap my hands, but not anymore.

Here, right now, I belong. I'm part of something with all these people around me, and it feels incredible. I don't want to return to the scared girl I was before.

The first half of the game is intense, with Hatfield actually looking like they stand a chance of winning against us. During the fifty-year-old rivalry, Hatfield has never gotten a win. I'm sure all of their fans chanting the name of their quarterback would love to take us down a peg. But as the cheer squad moves swiftly along the field and our oversized pirate head of a mascot dances alongside them, our bleachers scream and shout to encourage the players.

I catch Talon's eyes during halftime as he takes a seat on the bench, drinking water and catching his breath. Most people are focusing on the marching band in the background, listening to them perform an orchestral rendition of “Uptown Funk.” But everything around me seems to disappear, and the only thing that matters is Talon’s exhausted yet smiling face looking up at me in the stands.

I hold his jacket a little closer, letting the familiar smell of him sink into my nose before he turns back around and joins the rest of his team.

The smile on my lips fades as I catch someone else's eyes in the crowd. My father. He scans me up and down with a disgusted look, seeing me in some guy's jacket, wearing a low-cut tank top and a pair of shorts.

His fists tighten at his side, and I know exactly what he's thinking as he sways back and forth. He wants to run over to me and call me names, laying hands on me once again. He probably thinks I'm a slut who would do anything to get out of the house. There was a time he made me believe that was something I could be, but not anymore. What I have with Talon is real, and I won't let him ruin it.

I'm thankful for the crowds of people on the bleachers separating us because it means he can't get to me. I might get out of this situation without having to speak to him, which would be very nice.

The marching band stops playing, and all the players run back out to the field, forcing cheers and shouts from everyone on both sides of the bleachers. Now, though, the mirth I felt before is diminished. No matter how well our team does, I don't feel the communal revelry like I did before. My happiness has been clouded over by the memories of my father backing me into corners and shouting at me, his spittle peppering my face as he squeezes my arms so tight it leaves bruises.

I go through the motions of cheering with the rest of the crowd, clapping my hands when the people around me start clapping, and booing alongside them when the other team scores.

I only realize we win the game when everyone around me jumps up and screams on top of their lungs, clapping their hands and shaking people nearby. We're going to the playoffs.

Talon's eyes find mine in the stand, and I force a smile on my face, telling myself to forget all about my asshole father.

Pembroke students rush out onto the field and scream and dance from the excitement as some adults begin heading back to the parking lot, eager to beat the post-game rush. I make my way down to the field, forcing the memory of seeing my dad aside, and wrap my arms around Talon.

“You were incredible!” I shout over the din of people celebrating. Talon leans down and kisses me, and people around us cheer when they see it. I can't help but laugh when he pulls me away, and some of his friends walk over to us and shake our shoulders in disbelief that we won even though it was highly anticipated.

“How about we head home and celebrate?” Talon asks, leaning down and kissing my neck as he wraps his arms around me.

Part of me wants to tell him about my dad being here, but I don't want to spoil his happiness. He's done so much for me over the past week, and I don't want to spoil anything. He deserves a moment of celebration.

But the sooner we get out of here, the better.

“Lead the way,” I say as I separate from him and let him drag me away from the field. My excitement returns as he lifts me in his arms and runs across the field as if I were as light as the football he scored the winning touchdown with.

I'm sure he wants to know about my dad, but I'll tell him tomorrow. Nothing happened, anyway. All he did was look at me, and I made it out of the situation unscathed.

He sets me down on the passenger side of the car as he fishes for his key fob in his pocket. Before he can click the button to unlock both doors, my father stumbling toward us catches my attention. I almost hope he's not able to make it in time so we can just get in the car and leave before anything happens, but if I've known anything about my life, it's that I shouldn't expect a happy ending.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dad shouts across the parking lot, catching the attention of numerous people clamoring around the cars. Students who have been studying my every move all week long and families who had enjoyed a wholesome night out at the high school football game all look my way.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Talon mutters under his breath, dropping his duffel bag on the ground as he walks around the car.

“He's not worth this, Talon,” I say, grabbing his hand to keep him from going. He looks back at me and shakes his head, anger the only thing I see in his eyes. “Please, let's just go and celebrate.”

“Did you fuck him?” Dad yells again, oblivious to the fact that children are around. “You're a slut! I've always known that about you. The second you could spread your legs to get away, you did.”

Talon pulls his hand away from me and storms to the other side of the car, towering over my slight-framed and drunken father. “What the fuck did you just call her?”

My dad scoffs and tries to back away from Talon, but he just moves closer with every step back my dad takes. Of course, he's all bark and no bite. Dad thought he could just come here and insult me, and I would have to sit back and take it.

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