Chapter 4

That Sunday was, for Dana, homework day. Thea always went to church, as did the kids; sometimes Dad went too. Since she’d turned 16, Dana had the choice of whether to go. She did so often enough to keep her stepmother happy, but given she’d gotten no schoolwork done Friday or Saturday, today she had to buckle down. Opting out made Clara pissy—she wouldn’t be 16 for another month—but tough noogies.

Besides, Dana wasn’t sure she liked the pastor Thea had settled on. Not that he’d preached anything anti-gay, but she would have preferred driving half an hour up to the Unitarian Church in Hilldale.

The wind scratched a branch against her window, but otherwise the house was quiet. Dana didn’t know whether it was that or a date that had been satisfying despite its frustrations, but she worked quickly. It didn’t hurt that she’d done this chemistry assignment a month ago, just before leaving her old school. By lunch, she’d finished everything but her English reading—and she felt okay about that, as she’d seen the movie of The Scarlet Letter. So when Tina called asking if she’d like to play mini-golf, Dana felt free to accept. On her way out the door, she got permission from Thea.

The mini-golf course was on the outskirts of town, on a bluff above the river, behind a strip of shops. Several holes needed the artificial grass relaid, and some moving obstacles were stalled. Dana still had a blast. It was her, Tina, Josh, and Mike. Tina partnered with Josh—from which Dana deduced they were back not-together again. It amused her that, despite the pairings, the big competition was between Tina and Mike.

Dana played through neatly and quietly, calling attention to herself when she muffed a putt, but only then. The look on their faces when she ended up tying Mike and Tina was priceless. It was Josh who laughed first.

“Okay, joke’s on us, O jock.”

“I thought,” Mike said, “you hadn’t played this course before.”

“I haven’t,” Dana said.

“Then how—?”

“There’s a reason,” Josh told Mike, “she’s a star jock.”

“But she isn’t even a starter!” Mike protested.

Needled by the reminder, Dana said, “I used to play a lot of mini-golf.” Especially the year after Thea moved in, before she and Dad married.

“I didn’t even notice you doing it,” Tina said, looking oddly at Dana.

“You have to watch out for the quiet ones,” Dana said blandly.

Mike shook his head, put off by the surprise. Dana smiled mentally. She suggested a second round, girls against the boys.

As they played together, Tina quietly grilled Dana about her date with Nikki. Dana had, on the whole, been disappointed by how little she and Nikki had done, but Tina was encouraged by it. “Are you kidding?” she whispered. “On her first date?”

“You think?”

“She’s never gone out with anyone. It’s probably the first time she’s gone that far. It may even have been her first kiss with a girl.”

“Um. Yeah, actually.” Dana paused to putt. After all, she’d chosen Nikki because she was reserved. And Tina’s interpretation did please her.

When the boys’ attention was taken up by their own putts, Tina asked, “So are you going to ask her out again?”

Dana blinked. “Um. I’m waiting to see what the other cheerleaders say.” When Tina looked at her, Dana described Sam’s probation.

“Oh, so you’re looking at other potential dates? Huh.” Tina looked thoughtful.

Dana smiled. As the boys whooped up Josh’s hole in one, she said, “I like to play the field.” With girls who pitched her direction.

Tina raised her eyebrows, then glanced at Josh. Dana wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what was up there.

“After all,” Dana added, “I am a jock.” And Riverton jocks were supposed to date around.

“True.” Said as if Tina had forgotten that.

It was Tina’s turn to putt, and with Dana’s help she matched the hole in one. As Dana hoped, the girls won. Which improved Tina’s mood—and made Mike look even more sour.

Back home, in the hour before dinner, Dana shot some hoops in the driveway. Halfway through, Brad came out for a game of Horse—he was still too short and too slow to have a chance one-on-one with her. She won, of course, but he was getting good enough he could have come close, if he didn’t attempt those stupid show-off, no-chance shots. Even when he wasn’t being annoying, he was still so very 13.

After dinner, she finished The Scarlet Letter—the last third was more interesting than she’d expected, given how slow the story had been. Infuriating, but interesting. Then she puttered around online. She chatted with Nikki and Josh and Sue-Ellen, though she wasn’t always very good at chatting with multiple people. All that typing. Nikki thanked her for the good time, and they textflirted a little. At least, until Dana mixed up her chat windows and sent butterfly kisses to Josh. At least it wasn’t to Sue-Ellen.

She was slower and more careful after that, which sucked the fun out. It wasn’t long before she went offline.

Monday morning, Sam yet again confronted Dana on her way to chemistry. Her English teacher had just given them a pop quiz designed to get the wrong answers from the students who’d only seen the Scarlet Letter movie; because she’d nailed it, Dana was in a pretty good mood. Sam came close to blowing this away. Especially by, yet again, yakking in the middle of the hall, as students streamed around them. But then, Sam didn’t seem to worry about attracting attention.

“Nikki says she had a good time, that you were quite the gentleman.”

Dana had trouble not letting her irritation show. “I hope she actually said I was quite the lady.”

“Well I—” Sam did a double take. “Yeah, she did.”

“That’s good to hear. It’s not like I’m a bull dyke.”

Sam gave her an odd look, then shook it off. “You say you want to go out with cheerleaders because we’re girls, not because we’re popular. That you’d do anything, from holding hands to going all the way—with a girl.”

“With a cheerleader,” Dana insisted. Because apparently the distinction was important, especially while talking in public like this.

“Time,” Sam continued, as if she didn’t hear Dana, “to put your money where your mouth is.”

“My grandmother taught me never to bluff unless I was willing to be called on it.” And she more than willing to be called on this. Dana smiled, faux sweetly. “Did you have someone in mind?”

Down the hall, a couple girls screamed with laughter.

Sam narrowed her eyes. “Right.” Then she turned and left.

Leaving Dana with the uncomfortable feeling of being annoyed at getting what she wanted. The warning bell rang, and she hurried to chemistry. She didn’t want another reward for tardiness.

During lunch, several cheerleaders stopped by Dana’s table to say Hi, all in twos and threes. Including Nikki, with Heather. In the presence of each others’ friends, Dana and Nikki didn’t say much. But Nikki seemed ... happier than she’d been, last week. It was a nice look on her.

“You know,” Lillian said after Nikki and Heather left, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say they were interested in you.”

“Well, they are bi,” Mike pointed out before Dana could say anything.

Lillian shrugged agreement. “But still, you might want to be careful,” she told Dana. “Some people might get the wrong idea about you.”

Time, Dana decided, to face this head on. It wasn’t like it was going to be a secret. If it was even possible to keep a secret in this place. “Or the right idea,” she said as matter-of-factly as she could.

She almost laughed, watching their faces as each got it turn—first Lillian, then Sandy, then Mike. Tina and Josh, of course, already knew.

Mike looked like she’d unexpectedly passed a ball to him. “That—what?”

Tina stepped up to catch it. “So how was your date with Nikki?”

As if Dana hadn’t told her all about it. But it gave Dana an opening. “Good.”

“Nikki?“ Mike said. Dana could all but hear him thinking, But you’re a girl! But what he said was, “But she never goes out with anyone.”

“I’m a jock,” Dana said with a shrug. “And cheerleaders date jocks, right?”

“Now you know how to get her to go out with you,” Josh said to him. “Join a team.”

Wait, Mike had asked—? Dana looked at him.

Mike waved it off, vaguely. “Last year,” he said. “Ancient history.”

Dana glanced at the others. Their focus was on Mike, not her—Lillian bemused, Sandy almost smug. The latter was a good sign—because Sandy openly wore a little gold crucifix, Dana had worried about her reaction.