Chapter 5

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1991

“What’s on your mind,” I asked as I closed my car door carefully.

Jen seemed to stiffen and forced herself to turn towards me in her seat so that she couldn’t avoid looking at me.

“What I said about the dance wasn’t entirely true.”

“So you DO want to go to the dance?” I said with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Let me finish.”

“OK,” I replied, letting her continue.

“I have gone to a dance before. It was, it was horrible.”

“Go on,” I encouraged her.

“I went to a seventh-grade dance. Mom bought me a new blue dress, and I thought I looked great. Now remember, I have been almost this tall since fifth grade. I towered over every boy in my class. It was really awkward.”

I looked into her green-blue eyes as she told a story that was clearly getting sadder.

“Only a few people danced at first, and it was mostly fast songs. I danced a little then. Then there were slower songs. Anyway, there was this boy I sort of liked, Tommy Benshoof. He was sitting with his friends on the bleachers. He was still shorter than me, but taller than most boys. I decided to take a chance and walked over to him to ask him to dance.”

Jen had a little tear at the corner of her eye now and I wondered just how bad this story was going to get. I reached out to touch her hand. She recoiled at first, then looked at me and gave me a little smile and put her hand into mine. I gave her hand a light squeeze and she continued.

“Anyway, his eyes got real big and his friends all looked at him. Then he laughed. He laughed right in my face and his little jerk friends all started laughing too. Before I could turn around and run away, he said ‘I’m not dancing with a big blue moose.’”

“What an ass,” I added.

Jen nodded. “Big Blue Moose stuck. I was the Big Blue Moose for the rest of my time at East. I just concentrated on sports and my circle of friends. I never went to a dance again. Boys were all assholes. I had no time for them. Of course, by my freshman year, they were taller, closer to my height and they all started to think I was pretty. They’d snap my bra or grab my butt. I turned around one time after one of them snapped my bra and it was Tommy Benshoof. I punched him square in the nose! He got a bad bloody nose and we got hauled down to the Principal’s Office. Once the principal heard he had snapped my bra, he wasn’t going to punish me. So we both didn’t really get into any trouble, other than being told not to do it again and to leave each other alone.”

“He deserved that,” I nodded.

“He did. And he got teased after getting punched by a girl. Of course, none of them bothered me much after that. I miss my close friends from East, but Jake, I was actually happy to be moving here. I get to start new. I’m not the Blue Moose here.”

“No, you’re not,” I smiled, squeezing her hand a little more.

“But I don’t know if I want to go to the dance.”

I nodded in understanding, but I wasn’t happy to hear it.

“Jen, you need to know that I’m not Tommy Benshoof. You know that right?”

“I know,” she said softly.

“I would never treat you like that.”

“I know,” she repeated. “You haven’t. You’re nothing like him. You’ve been great.”

She squeezed my hand back.

“Then why not start new, like you said, and go to Homecoming with me?”

Jennifer took in a long, deep breath, thinking hard.

“Jake, I’m not telling you all this because of what I think of you. I’m telling you so that you understand me. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

I realized I’d been holding my breath and let it all out at once. My shoulders sagged and I nodded slowly in acceptance.

“I’m not gonna pressure you,” I said softly. “But I want you to know how I feel about you.”

“I think I already know,” she said quietly.

“I don’t know if you do,” I shook my head. “You’re the only one I want. I want to be your boyfriend.”

Jen looked down at our hands joined together and pulled hers away slowly.

“I’m just not ready for that,” she shook her head sadly. “But I still need you to be my friend.”

It was an agonizing moment and I could hardly look at her. I pulled my own hand away from where it had been joined with hers, turned forward and put my hands on the steering wheel...

“I guess we’re in two different places.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sadly.

“Don’t be sorry,” I looked back towards her. “You can’t feel what you can’t feel.”

That seemed to hurt her more than help.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, hoping to bring an end to the awkward conversation.

“OK,” she said softly, opening the passenger door.

“We’re still friends, right?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “For as long as you want me to be.”

She gave me a soft smile and a little wave as she closed the car door.

I drove home even more hurt than I thought I might feel.

Back to square one.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1991

“Why do I feel this way The promise of a new day The promise The promise of a new day”

I slapped the snooze bar on my alarm clock to shut up Paula Abdul. She was fine to watch on a video, but I really didn’t need to hear it that morning.

On autopilot, I ate breakfast without any joy and drove to school, almost forgetting to pick up Mikey.

“You alright, dude?”

“I’ve been better,” I said curtly.

“Girl problems?”

“You could say that.”

Mikey looked at me quietly.

“Should I drop it?”

“Probably,” I said a little too sharply.

Jen met me at my locker and I think she just wanted to connect. She tried to make small talk and I tried my best to engage with her but my heart just wasn’t in it. She could tell.

She seemed to sort of understand and gave me a little space. I trudged off to Algebra, where further distractions awaited.

Kim Nguyen was up to her usual shenanigans. How could I be the only one to see this? She rocked herself to silent relief until her body shuddered slightly. This time, however, she chanced a glance at me and saw me staring at her with undoubtedly hungry eyes.

Her eyes widened and color rose up her tan neck before she could turn away quickly. She would not look at me for the rest of class.

She wouldn’t look at me at lunch either, but I was quiet as well. Not even the Frito Pie could cheer me up.

I made a tiny attempt at small talk with Jen, but I wasn’t my usual jovial self. It put a strain on things around us.

No one commented. Everyone noticed.

I actually worked on school work in Study Hall for a change. I did have a student profile to write. Things were a little awkward sitting next to the subject of said profile.

“Whatcha writin’?” Jen asked playfully.

“Student profile,” I whispered. “Yours.” I added.

“Can I read it?” she smiled.

“Nope,” I whispered back. “It’s not done yet.”

And it sure wasn’t. I had started, erased and started over several times, toiling over the introduction. I decided to get the meat of the article done first, laying out the details and then worked my way back to the introduction. That worked much better. Now I just needed a finish.

“You’re reading it anyway, aren’t you?” I said accusingly, under my breath.

Jen looked cutely guilty and averted her eyes, then tried to hide a smile.

I sighed and slid my notebook to her and just let her read it.

She gave it a long read and then slid it back my way.

“It’s really good,” she smiled.

“Needs a finish,” I complained quietly. “But I’ve still got until tomorrow.”

I went through P.E. on autopilot as well. I didn’t even get very competitive, which was odd for me. Jen was on another courts, and I didn’t really want to look at her anyway.

Everything I wanted was melting away. Worse yet, I couldn’t just make her go away. I had to be around her and be her friend. I’d be a real jerk if I couldn’t do that for her. Than again, for me, it just hurt.

Maybe I was starting to get a feel for what Shelby had gone through. I thought about her absently, wondering how she was doing. We just weren’t as close as we had been before, but she felt she needed to explore this new relationship with Chris. I had to give her that space, but I should probably try to connect with her more.

By the time I got to Journalism class, my new default best friend was doing a pretty decent job in her new role.

“So what’s wrong?” Autumn asked.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing,’” she complained, tutting at me. “Something is wrong. I can tell. Well, everyone can tell.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Am I going to have to guess?” she threatened.

“Can I just get my work done so I can type it up?”

“Not until you tell me,” she flipped her long red hair back and folded her arms over her modest chest.

‘Fine,” I said quietly. “Jen said she’s still not ready to be my girlfriend, and I don’t know if she ever will be.”

“Hmmmm.” she made a thoughtful noise.

“Can I finish my work now?”

“No,” she said flatly. “Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Are you giving up?”

“I dunno. Probably,” I said glumly.

“Did she say ‘no,’ or ‘not now?’”

“Not now, I guess,” I sighed.

“Then it’s not a no, is it?” she said brightly.

“I guess,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Then you just have to decide if you can wait for her,” she said brightly. “Now cheer up!”

I gave Autumn a blank look and turned back to my work.

“Did you want me to look at that?”

“Sure,” I pushed my notebook over to her.

Autumn put her chin in her hand and read through my article.

“Sort of tapers off at the end,” she said, looking me in the eye.

“Uh, yeah,” I admitted. “Still not sure how to close it out.”

Autumn grabbed a pencil and put a couple of marks on my notebook.

“Start with where she’s been and who she is. Then finish with where she’s going and, uh, try to say something nice at the end. Make it a thing you close all of these out with.”

I was impressed. All I had to do was move a couple of paragraphs around and think of a closing sentence.

I thanked her and decided to take my notebook to the open computer and started typing up the article in the order Autumn had suggested and hoped I could come up with a closing sentence.

I’m a better game-day player than a practice player. I’ve always known that. In practice, you’re going up against your friends, people you know. And you’re just sort of trying to learn plays.

You’re not trying to knock anyone out of their cleats.

Not normally at least. Tuesday wasn’t a normal day.

Wyatt Jones and Corey Blank were split out wide. That left just Mitch and Woody in the backfield. On an obvious draw play, I charged right through Vernon and Dave Keller and slammed into Woody a moment after he took the handoff. I stopped him cold three yards deep in the backfield and he was none-too-pleased.

I didn’t even notice that he dropped the ball. Mitch was first to cover it up.

Same formation, different play. This time, Mitch dropped back to pass with Woody pass protecting in the backfield. I dropped back into the middle zone, with an eye on Woody in case he flared out for a pass or screen.

Tree was streaking underneath me from my right. Mitch saw him open and pulled the trigger.

I beelined it to Tree, squared my shoulder into his midsection and leveled him a moment after he snagged the high pass. I heard the air escape his lungs as I drove him into the ground.

To his credit, he still had the ball cradled in his hands, but he was feeling every bit of that hit.

Mikey was giving me a pointed look as I helped Tree get back up. He decided to take a few plays off.

Same formation once again. All four receivers seemed to be covered and I dropped back to cover the middle zone. Mitch pulled the ball down and took off running to his left. I shot after him and was about to make the tackle when he slid down, feet-first, for a modest gain.

“Figured I’d slide before you killed me,” he grinned.

“You’re my favorite quarterback. I wouldn’t kill you all at once,” I smiled back.

“You gonna be OK, dude?” Mikey asked cautiously as he closed the door to the Mustang.

“I’m fine,” I said, a little more relaxed than before practice.

I fired up the car and backed out of my spot.

“Tree says he’s gonna be feelin’ that one for a while.”

“Most likely,” I agreed.

“Dude, just tell me. Why were you killing everyone in practice today? Why the sour mood?”

I gave him a sly look and shifted up as we left the parking lot and headed down the highway.

“I’d say girl problems, but I don’t have one, I guess,” I said, looking straight forward. “So I guess after letting off a little steam at practice, I don’t have a problem.”

“So this was about Homecoming?” Mikey chanced another question.

“Why do you ask?”

“Uh, well everyone thinks you and Jen are going to end up going to Homecoming together, but it’s, like, not official.”

“Where are you hearing this?”

“I dunno, dude, people talk,” he shrugged.

“How does anyone know it’s ‘not official?’” I asked incredulously.

“Well, you’ve been acting weird all day and uh,” he paused and lowered his tone. “Someone else asked her and she said she wasn’t going.”

“Who?” I demanded.

“Daryn Lang,” he shrugged.

“That little fuck!” I swore. He was the freshman quarterback who I heard had asked her out a week or so ago.

“Well, dude, you’re not dating her,” Mikey reasoned.

“Whose side are you on here?” I asked, looking at him incredulously.

“Yours! Yours, dude! I was just saying. It’s not like you’re dating, or exclusive or something. Just keep that in mind before you break him in half.”

“I’m not breaking anyone in half,” I said more calmly. “Mikey, you follow the gossip more than I do. You think anyone in the school doesn’t know I’m after her?”

“Nah, dude. Everyone knows. You already act like a couple, except today, of course. That’s all over the place too.”

“If everyone knows, he knows. And if he knows and still asked her out anyway, he’s going to learn a hard lesson at our next next combined practice.

Mikey grinned over that idea.

“Still, don’t break him half.”

“I make no promises.” I shrugged.

After supper, little Josh absolutely demanded my time, and I figured I better go along with it. Mom took notice and seemed pleased. We played some knee-level hockey in the basement with a foam ball. Well, I played at knee level. He ran around on foot. That put us at closer the same height.

I let him beat me in the end, and he was tickled that he got to beat up on big brother.

Mom came to the rescue and hustled him to bed after a bath.

I grabbed a shower myself and was thinking about going to bed early. A phone call on my teen line ended that idea.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jake.”

“Shelby?”

“Yeah, did you forget about me?”

“No, of course not. I just, I guess I didn’t expect you to call.”

“Is it OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s OK,” I said, pulling the phone cord over to my bed.

I laid down and got more comfortable.

“What’s up Little ... What’s up Shelbs?” I asked awkwardly.

“You know you can still call me that, Dork,” she giggled.

“Good to know,” I said with a puff of breath.

“So, are you OK?” she asked somewhat timidly.

“I dunno,” I groaned.

“You seemed a little off today,” she said with concern.

“Shelbs, I don’t even remember seeing you today. We don’t have any classes together and you guys, uh, you guys have your own lunch table now.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I don’t see you, or hear about you.”

“Makes sense,” I said sheepishly. I felt a little bad for not even noticing her that day.

“Chris said today in practice you were,” she paused for a moment. “Kicking everyone’s ass.”

“Uh, well, I guess that’s about right.”

“So?” she asked again. “Are you OK? Girl problems?”

“Girl problems,” I admitted flatly.

“Jake, how many times have we talked like this over your girl problems?” she giggled.

“I don’t know. How many phone conversations have we had?” I chuckled.

“So what’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

“Jen,” I said in exasperation. “I got the ‘friends’ speech.”

“Ooooh,” she said in understanding. “I see.”

“Said she’s not ready for a relationship and wants to be friends.”

“Hmmmm,” Shelby pondered over the phone. “How did she say it?”

“I dunno, she said she’s not ready right now,” I complained.

“OK, then she’s not ready,” Shelby said flatly.

“It’s not that simple,” I groaned.

“It never is with you,” she chuckled. “But why not?”

“She wants to be friends,” I answered.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t want to hang out with her all day if I can’t have her.”

Shelby was quiet for a moment.

“So you think it would be tough to be friends with someone you have feelings for but can’t have?”

“Well, yeah,” I admitted.

“Then maybe you finally get it,” she said a little bitterly.

All at once I felt pretty terrible. I did finally understand at least a little of what Shelby had gone through, but this wasn’t quite the same.

“OK, yeah, I get it. But, Shelbs, it’s not the same.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Well, Jen knows exactly how I feel about her. I told her. I’ve been telling her. There’s no way she doesn’t know,” I reasoned. “But you never told me, Shelbs. You never told me how you felt about me until my, uh, birthday present. And then you wouldn’t date me anyway,” I said, a little hurt.

Shelby let out a long breath and paused for a moment or two.

“I guess you’re right about that,” she admitted. “It is different. She does know how you feel. But Jake, part of me was always scared of losing you as a friend. There were only two times when I was close to just not caring and being with you anyway. Mel got to you first both times.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she affirmed. “I wanted to go steady with you in junior high, but she got you first. Then she got you on your 14th birthday when I was thinking about it again. You were so head-over-heels for her, I never thought I’d get another chance. Then she died and, well, you weren’t in any shape to date anyone. Lexi shoved DeeDee into your lap last year, and you were gone again.”

It was a lot to think about again. I was sort of quiet while I processed all of what she was admitting to me.

“Jake?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Well, say something...”

“I’m sorry, that was a lot to think about,” I admitted. “So why tell me everything and um, be with me that day and then still not date me?”

Now it was her turn to take a moment and think.

“I already told you all that. If we’re going to be together someday, I just don’t think either of us is ready right now.”

“Why not?”

“You’re miles from ready,” she laughed softly. “And you aren’t going to be the only one to test the waters with other people.”