Page 16 of High Notes & Hail Marys

When you smile again, it’s big. Showing off all your teeth. “I don’t follow, Dettweiler. Why don’t you spell it out?”

Two spots of high color appear on his cheeks. “C’mon, Kai. You know me. It’s not like I’m some kind ofhomophobe, or anything. I’m just saying that appearances are everything. And carrying on like you guys have been doing… it doesn’t look too good.”

“I see,” you say slowly. “Hmm. You make a good point. I was actually thinking about fucking him in the ass at center field after we won. Should I ditch that plan, you think?”

Dettweiler grits his teeth. “See! I knew you’d get offended. There’s no talking to you guys about this kind of thing. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Just curious,” you said. “When you sayyou guys,do you mean queers? Or are you talking about anyone who doesn’t take money from fundie Christian hate groups to preach about traditional family values and taking away women’s choices? Ijust want to be sure I know my classifications.”

He looks mad enough to spit. “I came to you as afriend, Kai. Just remember that. When this whole thing blows up in your face, you can’t say that nobody warned you.” Dettweiler spins on his size-eight heel and stalks off, probably to rage-kick a ball into a practice net.

For your part, you roll your eyes and tilt your head back. Let your vision unfocus as you look up at the ceiling lights. You tweaked your shoulder on a hard hit near the end of the first. It throbs at a muted volume under your pads. Your body is good to you, it tends to keep quiet about its complaints until the game is over. Your Gatorade bottle is empty. One of your cleats is untied. You wonder what Sterling is doing at that very second.

***

The Cyclones win, although it ends up being a closer game than the first half might have predicted. Like Coach anticipated, the Bombers come back hyped after halftime, and put up two unanswered TDs by the end of the third. But you guys get their QB to fumble early in the fourth and take it back for a defensive touchdown, and that takes the wind out of their sails. They pull off another field goal in garbage time, but it doesn’t matter.

The guys are yelling the Cyclones’ fight song as youall head for the showers. The mood is high, and the vibes are excellent. Your scalp is still tingling from your minty shampoo when you schlep your bag onto the concourse and encounter Sterling and his group.

“Kai!” he exclaims happily, launching himself into your arms. There are a clutch of Association reporters against the wall, so you exercise restraint and simply brush your lips against his. Sterling’s on tiptoe in your embrace, his body pressed against yours. He smells faintly like Coke; that must be what he spilled. You smile and lower him to the ground.

“What did you think?” you ask him.

“Oh my god, you guys were amazing!” He presses his hands together like he wants to clap them. “That was so fun! I can’t believe I waited this long to go to a game!”

“Next time, maybe you’ll remember the difference between a field goal and an extra point,” Gabrielle pipes up slyly. She’s got her hair in a high ponytail again. Her Cyclones-green dress is itty-bitty, with a big cutout showing the curve of her side and no small amount of underboob. Even in her stacked heels, she’s barely up to Sterling’s chin. You aren’t even straight, and you want to just gawk at how good she looks.

Sterling remembers his manners. “Kai, this isGabi. You saw her at the concert. Gabi, Kai.” You shake hands, and Sterling manhandles his sister forward. “And this is my big sister. Noemi, this is Kai.”

Noemi looks slightly uncomfortable. Her whole body language is radiating social awkwardness, so you dial it back and give her a grin. Forego the handshake.

“Hey!” you say. “It’s really good to meet you. Thank you for coming out. It means a lot.”

She favors you with half a smile.

A group of guys come loudly down the concourse behind you. It can’t be such an amazing day without a little bit of bad luck, so it turns out that GoGo is foremost among them. He’s changed into a slim-fitting pair of gray ankle slacks with a matching jacket, his scoop-neck tee underneath a vibrant yellow. The chain around his neck probably cost as much as a starter home in Middle America. The fucker always looks like he’s about to step into the pages ofGQ. He notices you, and makes a beeline over, clapping you on the back. This week, he’s colored the ends of his blond hair emerald green.

“Kaius!” he shouts. “Myman. Week One undefeated, what’s up!” He keeps his arm around your shoulder. “Introduce me to your friends, bro. Ain’t you a down-home guy? Southern charm, andall that?”

Taking a deep breath, you force a smile. “Guys, this is GoGo Heller. GoGo, this is Sterling, his sister Noemi, and Gabrielle.”

GoGo grins, showing off three golden molars. “The pleasure is mine.”

Noemi frowns. “Your parents actually named youGoGo?”

“It’s short forGrenville,” you say dryly.

“Only time my momma ever did me wrong,” he replies, grabbing his chest as if stricken.

“They started calling him that at Texas Tech because of his speed,” Gabi explains. “You broke a record there, right?”

Predictably, GoGo’s eyes linger on Gabi, raking up and down her ridiculous curves. “Well, well. Where you been all my life, mami?”

To your horror, Gabriellelaughsand tilts her head, flicking her ponytail. “That catch you made on the third-and-long in the last quarter waswild. You kind of give me Ochocinco in his prime.”

GoGo could not preen more if his life depended on it. You swear that you actuallyseehis chest puff out. “Little mama knows her references. I like it. That’s high praise, baby.”

Gabi shrugged. “My family’s from Bengals country, and they’ve held season tickets since forever. One of my earliest memories is of my dad taking me to games. I used to sleep in my85jersey.”

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