Chapter 50: Monday, Oct. 1

Waking up on Monday was only made tolerable by the realization that several soft, feminine body parts were pressed up against me. It took a few more seconds to realize those parts were attached to my sister.

Reluctantly, I began disentangling myself from Kacie’s grasp despite her efforts to snuggle closer. I put a kiss on her forehead as I crawled over her and began my preparations for another week. Grabbing a fresh pair of boxers, I went to take a quick shower and get ready for the day.

Kacie waited until I was done in the bathroom to force herself out of bed, claiming her good-morning kiss as we crossed paths. I dressed quickly, made sure everything I needed for school was in the backpack and headed for the kitchen.

Mom was already there, sipping on coffee with a muffin and some fruit on a plate. I set my bag next to my chair and went to fix some breakfast.

“Ready for your test?” she asked as I put a bowl of cereal on the table.

“I think so,” I said. “If a leader must choose between being loved or feared, it’s better to be feared.”

“That might’ve worked 400 years ago in Europe,” Dad snorted as he headed for the coffee pot. “It’s a different world out there these days.”

“The main thing is to get it right on the test,” I shot back. “I’ll figure out the real-world applications later.”

“What else do you have today?” Mom asked.

“Nothing too unusual,” I said. “I may stay after football to watch the band practice. I haven’t gotten to see Kacie march except on the TV replays.”

I left out the part where I intended to lobby the band kids to vote for someone other than me in the Homecoming election. I figured my parents didn’t need to know about my own political machinations until after the fact.

In addition to the regular school and football stuff, I also needed to order mums for Arlene, Jan and Marie. Thinking of that reminded me that I need to check with Sherry to make sure she got her mum. I’d originally intended to have it delivered to her locker, but she was going to be out all week undergoing another round of leukemia treatment. I’d have to see if I could pick it up and personally deliver it to her house.

I bade my parents good day and headed out. I waited until I got to my car before texting Mr. Parker to ascertain Sherry’s schedule for the week. I didn’t want to take the chance that she was already on the way to or already at her appointment. I was barely out of the driveway when my phone rang. It was Sherry herself. I was able to answer with the car’s Bluetooth connection as I drove.

“Just wanted to wish you the best,” I said after we greeted each other.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said, sounding fairly upbeat considering what she was facing. “I just hope it’s not as rough as the last round.”

“Me, too,” I replied. “Look, the reason I called was to find out what I need to do to get you your mum. I didn’t know if you’re staying over this week or commuting each day.”

“I’ll go home if I feel up to it, but it’s set up to stay if I need to,” she said. “What were you planning?”

“I thought I’d drop it by your house if anyone’s going to be home,” I said. “Probably Thursday after practice, Friday morning before school at the latest.”

“I’ll check with Mom,” Sherry said. “She can go home if I have to spend the night. The main thing is I want to be at the game Friday night. We may have to go straight from the hospital. The good thing is I don’t have to worry about selecting an outfit. I’ll just wear my uniform.”

We chatted a little more as I drove. Sherry wanted to get the details of my date with Stephanie.

“I thought it went well enough,” I said. “At least her dad didn’t seem too upset when I talked to him yesterday. We had dinner at the club, hung out at the teen lounge and I had her home on time.”

“You didn’t take her anywhere?” the cheerleader asked somewhat incredulously. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“I was trying to avoid being strapped to a blocking sled,” I said, receiving a little giggle in response. “I still have to deal with Coach Tucker, for better or worse.”

“Well, just watch yourself,” Sherry said, giggling harder. “There are plenty of girls who’ll give you an opportunity to misbehave when the time’s right.”

Yeah, like a certain ginger cheerleader, I thought. At least Sherry’s treatment would keep her from trying to get frisky for the moment, but I wondered how long my resolve would last if she did make a serious move. I could only hope that I wouldn’t wind up creating some kind of health episode for her.

She then had to make sure I had everything ready for my date with Staci this coming Saturday.

“I haven’t been told all the plans just yet,” I said. “I guess I’ll wear a blue dress shirt and my navy blazer if it still fits. I know Staci will want me in something that won’t clash with her outfit. She hasn’t said where she wants to eat or anything. At least I’ve got her mum taken care of.”

Sherry offered a bit more advice on what I should do for Homecoming, reminding me the powder blue spirit rags would be available at the spirit shop this week. I vaguely recollected Morgan paying for one when she’d purchased the white and dark blue ones for me back during the first week of school. Memories of 86 guys with shaved heads getting detention because Ralph Franks didn’t like the fact cheerleader were kissing our bald heads that day resurfaced. It seemed like so long ago.

Sherry finally had to let me go as I neared the school. It was almost time for her to leave for her appointment. I wished her well one more time and disconnected the call before I pulled into the senior lot, which was still mostly empty. It was early enough I’d be able to hit the spirit shop and StuCo store before the first bell.

I headed through the South Wing to the cafeteria entrance and made my way to the spirit shop first since it had virtually no one in line. Miss Wilkes gave me a rather wary look as I stepped up to the counter. I had no idea what her deal was. I hadn’t done anything with any of her cheerleaders since Sadie Hawkins.

The cheer coach pulled it together long enough to inform me that the spirit rags for football players to wear as head coverings were being delivered to the fieldhouse and would be distributed by the coaches. I was told the booster club was picking up the tab after an anonymous contribution. I got the feeling it may have been from the same anonymous benefactor who provided the team polos the week of our first game.

That allowed me to hop over to the StuCo store before the line got too bad. It seemed an awful lot of teenage boys had just learned they were supposed to shell out some cash if they ever wanted to get up close and personal with teenage girls. I was pretty sure none of these young swains were being expected to take their dates to places like Morton’s just yet, but that was probably just a matter of time.

The StuCo had two lines going dedicated solely to mum sales. I got in the shorter one, which just happened to be manned by the kid who’d helped me last week when I paid for the mums I’d ordered for Staci, Bethany and Sherry. He just got this shit-eatin’ grin when I told him I needed to order three more. That caused the girl working the other line, the one who’d taken my original order, to jerk her head sharply and give me a disapproving look. I ignored her, which didn’t seem to help matters.

After ordering and paying for three of the cheapest, most basic mums with no extras, the sophomore waiting on me said I could pick them up Thursday at lunch. All mums had to be distributed before the pep rally on Friday.

“I’ll also need to pick up one that was supposed to be delivered to a girl’s locker,” I said. “Sherry Parker. She’s out all week for medical treatment. I’ll deliver it to her home.”

The kid helping me pulled out a delivery list and scanned it until he found Sherry’s name, then made the appropriate notation.

“That one’s ready now if you want to take it,” he said.

I decided I’d better while I had the chance. I didn’t want to risk it being delivered to Sherry’s locker as originally planned. I could keep it in my locker for the time being. It wasn’t like a cloth flower was going to wilt on me.

With all that taken care of, I fought my way through the student traffic to my locker, which this week urged me to “Hold Those Tigers,” made sure Sherry’s mum was hung where it should be safe and prepared everything I’d need for my morning classes. I made it back to Mr. Cochran’s room in the East Wing before the tardy bell and got ready to resume the educational process.

One of the morning announcements was we’d have a short home-room bit first thing tomorrow to vote on Homecoming royalty. I hoped that meant Mrs. Albracht would put off the test until Wednesday. I’d find out for sure in third period.

We turned in our papers after Mr. Cochran took roll, then endured the teacher’s monotone through another lecture. If I’d known how difficult it was going to be to stay awake in this class, I’d have definitely selected something else for first period.

Chuck got my attention when the bell sounded. He’d arrived right as the tardy bell rang and hadn’t said a word during the entire period. He looked like he’d recently been through an unpleasant experience.

“Want to go off campus for lunch?” the big guard asked quietly. “There’s somethin’ I need to tell ya, but I don’t wanna do it around here.”

“Bad?” I asked, receiving a shrug. “Can we make it back before fifth period?”

“Oughta,” Chuck grunted. “Just grab somethin’ and go. We can eat in the parkin’ lot. If not, we can afford an unexcused tardy.”

“We’d better get our lifting done quickly,” I said. “I doubt there’ll be too much film study. Maybe we can slip out early.”

We parted ways, hurrying to get to our second-period classes. I pushed my curiosity aside as I prepared to take my test in Western Civ. I was happy that Mrs. Edwards again gave us the option of filling out a PDF file. I couldn’t understand why roughly half the class still used pen and paper. I just felt like my answers were better when I had the freedom to go back and change a word here or there and I was eternally grateful for spellcheck.

Mrs. Albracht gave us the bad news that we’d have our test over “The Taming of the Shrew” tomorrow, claiming home room shouldn’t take more than five minutes out of first period. None of the other classes would be affected. All we were doing was putting check marks next to eight names, anyway. That sounded good in theory, but I still had no idea how many candidates or who they all were. I again forced myself to focus on the matter at hand and paid attention to our extremely gravid teacher as she explained just what Bill really meant with some of his lines.

At the bell, I hit my locker to swap out books for the afternoon and headed for the fieldhouse. I should have been expecting the ration of shit I received in athletics. I guess I was just preoccupied wondering what Chuck had to say. The crazy thing was it came from multiple sources for a variety of reasons.

First was all the girl trainers giving me the evil eye, apparently because of my date with Stephanie. The fact that Doc, Trapper and some of the assistant coaches seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious didn’t help.

Then some of the guys had to pile on as we headed to the weightroom for our upper body day. More than one made sure to point out the newsclipping of the game story from the Daily News on the bulletin board. The main photo, which ran the width of the page, was a sideline shot of me lunging for the goal line as three Lions players tried to wrap me up with more just a step away from joining in. I don’t know if the photographer had been really close or just using a huge lens, but you could see my eyes were closed and my face was scrunched up in a contorted expression that seemed to convey absolute terror. I didn’t bother reading the caption.

Coach Bennett had to add his two cents on both topics as we lifted. I think that helped spur me to finish faster so I could escape the harassment. It just happened to have the added bonus of giving me a little more time to have lunch off campus if there were no stragglers. I made use of my free time by quietly encouraging as many guys as I could to vote for Marshawn instead of me in the Homecoming election. I was pretty sure most of the defense would, anyway. I just had to sway the offense to support a team captain.

Then Coach Ramirez got in on the action by critiquing everything I’d done wrong on the kickoff return, like running away from the blocking wall after getting hit the first time. I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking what he thought of the end result as the others on the return team snickered. It was pretty clear that had any of the Lions coverage unit done their jobs and tackled me instead of trying to inflict harm, I wouldn’t have even made it to the blocking wall. I counted at least six blocks that kept the play going before I even crossed the 50.

Coach Wilson finished it off by critiquing my “block” on Javon’s touchdown. We agreed that if opponents would rather talk noise at me than try to tackle the man with the ball, we’d take it.

As expected, there wasn’t much to complain about with the other guys. Most of them hadn’t even been on the field most of the second half. We were done with a good 10 minutes or more remaining in the period. Coach Tucker cut us loose with the stipulation we not enter the main building before the bell.

Before he let us go, the head coach “suggested” we show support for our teammates who’d been nominated for the Homecoming court. I took the opportunity to get my plug in one more time since everyone was in attendance.

“I think it would be best if everyone voted for Marshawn,” I said once I had their attention. “He’s a bigger part of this team than I’ll ever be — a captain, a three-year starter and probably the best linebacker in the district. I’ve been getting too much of the wrong kind of attention just because someone took a picture of me standing on a beach. Can I count on your cooperation? Besides, whoever wins Homecoming queen probably has a boyfriend or father who wouldn’t like me dancing with her Saturday night. I’d hate for it to be someone on the team or coaching staff.”

The last bit drew a few chuckles while Coach Tucker just gave me an inscrutable stare. Most of the guys went to go change, but Marshawn grabbed me by the arm.

“Whatchoo up to, Supermodel?” he demanded.

“Just what I said,” I replied. “I don’t need and certainly don’t want any more notoriety around here. I figure if anyone can handle the job, it’s you. Look at it this way — you’ll be able to issue a Royal decree ordering Ny’Quesha to stay away from me.”

That earned me a snort that was only slightly derisive.

“You obviously don’t know my little sister that well,” the linebacker grunted. “Lessee if we can keep it that way.”

I didn’t need a shower, but had a quick wash in the sink before going to dress for the afternoon classes. Chuck was waiting at my locker ready to go.

“Get movin,’” he said as I started dressing. “We might not need these if we’re outta here before the bell.”

I looked to see our left guard holding two slips of paper that looked suspiciously like hall passes. I didn’t want to know if Morgan had forged Coach Tucker’s signature again.

“You owe somebody a footrub,” Chuck said, answering my unasked question as he handed me one of the slips. “Let’s go.”

On the way to the Beemer, Chuck agreed to hit Rosa’s. We should get there before anyone in D lunch and anyone from the earlier lunch periods ought to be out of the way by now. A bagful of fajita tacos should be sufficient to get us through the afternoon.

With the top down, Chuck was able to squeeze into the passenger seat only a little more easily than Coach Bennett had back in June. We were out of the parking lot before he gave me an inkling as to the topic of discussion.

“Dude, your grandmother is one scary lady,” he said. “Ain’t no way I’m goin’ up against her.”

“Where did you see my grandmother?” I asked, fighting down my initial outraged reaction.

“At the country club yesterday,” he said. “She ‘invited’ Kelli to lunch and Kelli asked me to come along. Miss Wilkes was there, too, and we ate in one of the private dinin’ rooms. I didn’t know what was goin’ on until Mrs. Robinson told Kelli that her little disagreement with you had just ended.”

Oh, God, I thought. I did not need my grandmother becoming involved in that part of my life. I had to think how she even knew what was going on between me and the head cheerleader before realizing Grandpa must have told her. Better throw in Mom and Dad, as well.

“Just to be clear, I’ve never mentioned to my grandmother anything about what happened,” I said as I steered toward the nearest Rosa’s. “I hate to even think how much of what she knows is the actual truth.”

“She said she had a credible witness who could swear you didn’t molest Kelli,” Chuck said, “other than, ya know, strippin’ her naked and tyin’ her up.”

I took that to mean Grandma must have talked to Marie. I’d better check on the little waif to make sure she was OK. My grandmother could be rather overwhelming when she wanted. Just ask Grandpa.

“So, where do things stand now?” I asked as we pulled into the parking lot that served the restaurant and a few other businesses on that block.

“I’m not sure,” Chuck said. “Kelli said there was one last thing that was out of her control, but I didn’t get any details. Then your grandmother told Coach Wilkes how things were gonna be with the cheer team.”

“I bet that went over well,” I said as we reached the entrance of the restaurant and went inside.

Chuck waited until we ordered and got our drinks to resume his tale.

“Your grandmother told Miss Wilkes she should have cheer officers instead of a head cheerleader,” he said. “Kelli gets to come back and be co-captain with Libby. A couple of other senior girls will be lieutenants. I think Staci’s supposed to be a junior lieutenant.”

That was pretty close to what I envisioned when I mentioned Kelli being willing to concede some of her authority. Grandma was obviously thinking along the same lines.

“And Miss Wilkes just accepted that?” I asked.

“She did when your grandmother said she knew Coach Wilkes was ‘infatuated’ with you, too,” Chuck said. “Warned her not to try anything until after you graduate. How do you do that, man?”

“Do what?”

“Get all those women so worked up,” he said. “Your grandmother made it sound like she had a list of every female that’s linin’ up to make a run at ya.”

“Believe me, I’m not trying to get their attention,” I said, wondering if I could get a copy of such a list so I’d know who to avoid. “I’ve got more than I can handle already. I’m just tryin’ to make it through the school year without causing any trouble. Maybe I can go back to being anonymous when I get to college.”

“Good luck with that,” Chuck snarked. “Mrs. Robinson also hinted that next year’s fundraisin’ goal would be taken care of if everybody played nice, but she did say the girls should work at the pool again next summer. I got the feelin’ she’s got as much stroke at the club as your mom, maybe more.”

Great. If what I was hearing was the truth, my grandmother was basically bribing the cheer program to back off where I was concerned. Not that I didn’t appreciate it, but her methods seemed rather heavy-handed. I would have hoped she’d be a bit more subtle.

I ate a couple of tacos in the time Chuck wolfed down all of his. We refilled our drinks before Chuck said we’d better be getting back to campus. He needed to stop at his locker before fifth period. I stuffed my last taco in a pocket as we headed out. I could eat it on the walk across the senior lot.

“You taking Kelli to Homecoming?” I asked on the drive back.

“Yeah, I don’t think I have much choice now,” Chuck sighed. “I finally got her mum ordered this mornin,’ now I just have to figure out how to pay for dinner Saturday night. Dang mum ate up what I was expectin’ to use for that. I doubt she’ll settle for McDonald’s.”

“Let me know if you need some help,” I said. “It won’t be the first time I’ve fed ya. I’ve already blown my budget for the month, anyway.”

My dashboard clock showed there was still more than five minutes until the first bell. I wouldn’t have to use Morgan’s forged hall pass if I didn’t dawdle.

Chuck said he’d see me at practice and hurried off as I consumed the rest of my lunch. I stepped into the East Wing to be confronted by Mrs. Montero and Mr. Dunwoody.

“My office,” the interim principal seethed. “Now!”

Good God, what now? I suppressed a sigh as I followed the principal and her henchman to the office. Hell, it wasn’t even a Tuesday!

The bell rang just as we arrived. Looks like I’d be missing another chunk of Algebra II.

Mrs. Montero tried to exude an air of authority once we were in her office. I figured I’d better let her enjoy her delusion. Dunwoody was within arm’s reach and I didn’t want to have to deal with him if I could avoid it.

“Why did you leave campus before the end of your fourth-period class?” she demanded once we were seated.

“Coach Tucker said we were free to go as long as we didn’t enter the main building until the bell rang,” I said. “Chuck Edwards wanted to eat off campus and we figured we’d better go while we could.”

“Students are only allowed to leave campus during their assigned lunch period,” she stated imperiously. “This calls for some form of punishment.”

I didn’t know if Dunwoody was going to strangle me, her or both of us, but his warning growl seemed to indicate I’d better not try to talk my way into another Friday detention session.

“In light of scheduling difficulties the rest of this week, detention is untenable. Therefore, I’ve decided you will be removed from the Homecoming ballot,” Mrs. Montero declared triumphantly.

I think I got my coughing fit under control fairly quickly. At least I didn’t burst out laughing.

“I’m on the Homecoming ballot?” I asked as innocently as I could, somehow maintaining a straight face.

“Not anymore,” she gloated.

I swear, she sounded just like Ralph Franks had the first time he gave me detention and told me it was going on my permanent record. The fact that the reasons each gave for their decisions were almost pure bullshit didn’t get past me.

“Now, on to another matter. We’ve had a complaint about your behavior from one of our student council officers,” she said as I tried to exude an aura of innocence. “Did you really buy six mums from the StuCo store? What, one for each of your girlfriends?”

“Sorta, but not exactly,” I said, fighting back the grin that tried to spread across my face. “The three I ordered last week were for Staci Patterson, who will be my date for the dance, Bethany Metzger, who doesn’t have a date, and Sherry Parker, who intends to be at the game for at least a little while. She’s all but ruled out going to the dance after undergoing treatment this week. The three I ordered this morning are for ladies who don’t attend our school.”

“Stirrin’ up more trouble with the rest of the district?” Mr. Dunwoody asked. “Coach Tucker explained what all that was about after the game Friday. I was too busy makin’ sure players were headed to the buses to tell what was goin’ on at the time.”

“No, sir,” I said. “These ladies are out of high school. The mums are just a friendly gesture on my part. They may well attend the game, but not the dance. Two of them will be out of town Saturday.”

“And the third?” Mrs. Montero asked.

“Isn’t the kind of person who wants to relive her high school years,” I said. “From what I understand, she was something of an outcast in a small town. I’ve heard her describe herself as ‘the weird girl.’”

“I can empathize with that,” Mrs. Montero said quietly.

I was ready to get to my class, but the principal had one more item to discuss.

“Tell your publicists they must check in at the office if they need to get in touch with you during school hours,” she said.

“My publicists?” I asked cluelessly. “Plural?”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “We’ve had multiple incidents of unauthorized people found wandering the hallways looking for you. The district police chief has called in extra officers to deal with a possible security breach.”

“Sounds like a definite security breach,” I said, causing Dunwoody to perk up. “I don’t have a publicist — singular — and never have. Anyone claiming to hold the position is obviously up to something. The only non-school personnel who should be concerned with my whereabouts are my parents and the security detail my grandfather hired a while back. My sister and some of her friends are supposed to be protected by the same company, but these people generally don’t come on campus, from what I’ve been told.”

“Generally?” Dunwoody asked.

“The guy who took down Billy Ray Harkrider at Sadie Hawkins was one, but I don’t know exactly who he was assigned to,” I said. “I heard him mention Staci. Her dad was the one who hooked my grandfather up with the security company.”

“I wondered about that,” he mused, “up until you took a swing at me.”

“Instinctive reaction,” I said in my defense. “I’d been grabbed and spun around twice. I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“The school district has apparently had a working agreement with the firm since Miss Patterson was first enrolled in elementary school here,” Mrs. Montero explained. “You’re right in that its personnel do not enter campus without explicit permission from the administration office. We may have to expedite matters a bit if the situation escalates.”

“You’d better get to class,” Mr. Dunwoody said. “The period’s nearly half over. I’ll walk with ya since I’m headed that way, myself. Save us fillin’ out a hall pass.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grabbing my backpack from where I’d set it next to my chair. “Lead on when ready.”

Mr. Dunwoody waited until we were out in the hallway to start in on me.

“Why do I get the feelin’ you’re not too terribly upset at being removed from the ballot?” he asked casually as we strolled along.

“To be honest, I’m more concerned about these so-called publicists,” I admitted. “I think the Homecoming deal’s one of those things that are important to people without a Y chromosome, but I’ve got other things going on Friday. Besides, I don’t want to have to deal with the drama. Imagine if I had to do the spotlight dance with some girl whose boyfriend sees me as a threat. I’d hate to be the reason you had to intervene again.”

“And you can bet that I’ll be keepin’ an eye on ya again,” he growled. “Still can’t believe that gal complained about you buyin’ too many mums. Made me think she was feelin’ left out.”

“I get the feeling she disapproves of me just on principle,” I said. “I don’t think she’d appreciate being one of seven. Speaking of mums, have you ordered one for the boss lady? Might score ya a few brownie points.”

“I’m too old for crap like that,” he grunted. “Get to class before I drag ya to ISS myself, smartass.”

Since the school disciplinarian personally delivered me to Mr. Henderson’s room, I was pretty sure the rumor mill would be going full tilt before sixth period started. Mr. Henderson at least waited until Dunwoody departed to get in his shot.

“Is it Tuesday already?” he snarked as he handed me my test from Friday and pointed me to my seat. “What was it this time?”

“I went off campus for lunch and was seen leaving before the bell rang,” I said. “Mrs. Montero made sure I was properly chastised for my transgression.”

“Uh-huh,” the teacher grunted like he didn’t believe me. “We’ve already reviewed the test. You can get with one of the others when you have time. Nice job of hitting the total score on the bonus question. I had to give you credit for it since you were so close on the spread, but that must have been the slowest kickoff return ever.”

I ignored the titters of my classmates as Mr. Henderson resumed his lecture. A quick look showed I made 93 on the test. I’d check with Cody during study hall, but right now I’d better try to keep up with the lecture.

And, since it was Monday, we were assigned the first 10 problems of the next chapter. I guess I wouldn’t be watching much band practice tonight. Good thing I didn’t need to convince those kids not to vote for me.

Chemistry went pleasantly enough, although Elise had to pump me for the latest on Stephanie as we performed the day’s lab experiment. I told my lab partner what happened after we left the teen lounge, leaving out the part about declining Stephanie’s invitation, but hadn’t seen the freshman since she went inside her dad’s house.

“I heard she asked if she could switch from football to volleyball,” Elise whispered accusingly. “I think you broke her heart.”

I couldn’t contain the sight this time, drawing several curious glances. Elise, of all people, should know what I was like on a date I didn’t want to be on, yet she still seemed to hold out hope for another outing in the future.