Page 85 of Pieces Of You
Where mine wasn’t falling apart.
And hers wasn’t already in pieces.
* * *
I’d already toldthe appropriate people that I wouldn’t be “trying out” for any other teams for the rest of the year. In other words, I quit all sports. But, when it came to football, Coach Griffith wasn’t having it. In his words, it would look worse on my college transcripts to be a quitter than a loser, and he “strongly advised” I play out the rest of the season. So that’s where I am. Under the Friday night lights of the football field while the entire school cheers us on.
For losing.
Again.
“Well, that wasn’tsobad,” Billy Butler says, sidling up next to me as we walk off the field. He’s out of shape and out of breath, just like most of the team.
I remove my helmet and turn to him. “At least you’re walking this time.”
It’s like a bottleneck to get into the tunnel toward the locker rooms with Coach front and center. He throws his clipboard to the ground, stomps on it a few times, and Billy stifles his laugh. “The man’s losing his mind.”
We start to move, slowly, slowly, while the crowd in the stands disperse the same way. The cheerleaders are on the sidelines, still cheering for no real reason. And all I want to do is shower and change and call it a night.
“Jamie!” The voice comes from the front of the pack—Dean, of course—and my head snaps up to the bleachers, eyes searching because he must be seeing things. Jamie’s never been to a game before, so I don’t know why she would now.
But she is.
Standing between a row of seats in dark denim and a leather jacket, loose hair blowing in the wind, she doesn’t look at all like the Jamie I know. The guy behind her—someone I don’t recognize—taps her shoulder, and she turns to him.Smiles. He points toward us, and she follows his gaze, those hazel eyes sparkling beneath the stadium lights. Then she turns back to him, shaking her head, and he… he puts his hands on her shoulders as they move out of the aisle. I watch their backs retreating as they walk side by side, and Billy shoves me forward. “What are you doing, man? Go.”
I reset.
Refocus.
The tunnel ahead of me is clear, but my mind is not. I turn to Billy. “Party at my house tonight. Spread the word.”
* * *
The music is too loud,the weed too strong, and the beer too plentiful. It’s exactly what I need to clear my head. Or forget my mind completely.
Bodies pack my living room and the kitchen and flow out onto the back deck and yard. I’d called Mom on the way home and told her I was having afewpeople over. By few, I meant most of the senior class and at least half of the rest of the school. Dean’s here, too. I don’t know why he is, and right now, I don’t care.
Leaning against the deck railing, I take another hit of the blunt and pass it to Billy. “This shit’s good,” I tell him. “Your brother’s finally getting the right stuff.”
He shakes his head. “This isn’t from him.”
“No?” I blink hard to fight off the effects of all the illegal substances I’ve consumed.
He leans in so he can shout in my ear. “It’s from Melanie.”
“Melanie, who?”
“Sanchez.”
I stare blankly at him. “You know that hot-ass girl with the black hair, big blue eyes.”
A girl walks toward me, offering me a beer, and I shake my head. To Billy, I say, “Oh yeah, I know Melanie.”Jamie’s Melanie.
“You should,” he chuckles. “We had three classes with her last year.”
“Wait.” I turn to him. “She deals?”
He nods, handing the joint back. Before I can take a toke, Bethany’s standing beside us, and what the hell she could possibly want… who fucking knows. If it’s to ask more shit about Jamie, she can fuck right off. “What?” I ask, and she shrugs.Games. So many fucking games, and I’m not even the one playing. So, just to mess with her, I hold out the joint between us.
