I don’t have to wait long before the game is over and the kids with cars are filtering out into the lot. I get out of the pickup and cross the road. I keep my sunglasses on. I’m wearing my varsity jacket from Penn State.
I watch Scottie Lincoln bid farewell to his buddies and approach his car – a black sedan – carrying a black sports bag over his shoulder. He’s searching around for his keys when I approach him from behind.
‘Are you Scottie Lincoln?’ I ask calmly.
He turns his head and recognition flashes across his features. ‘Woah, you’re—’
He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before I’ve body slammed him into his car door. His eyes go wide with fear.
‘That’s right, I’m Jake Walsh, asshole, and my sister goes to this school. You know who my sister is, you piece of shit?’
‘River,’ he sputters. I’m leaning so close to him I can see the sweat break out on his upper lip.
‘Did you tell all the other guys in this school not to ask my sister to the winter formal?’
‘I can explain, man,’ he says.
‘Did you do it?’ I demand.
‘Yeah, I did it,’ he manages, ‘but, hey, you gotta understand—’
‘If I didn’t play for the NFL,’ I interrupt him, ‘and I didn’t value my career as highly as I do, then you should know, right about now I’d have separated your nut sack from your body. You come within ten feet of my sister again, you’ll be hearing from me, you sorry-ass motherfucker. And next time I won’t be so fucking soft on you.’
I shrug him off. The guy looks speechless.
‘Hey, man—’ he calls out in a strangled tone, but I walk away. I cross the road, and head back to my pickup.
I buy River dinner at the mall, though we keep getting interrupted by Mutineers fans wanting autographs. One woman even asks me about my relationship with Lemon. River finds it hilarious and it’s good to see her smiling again at my expense.
We don’t say another word about the winter formal or Scottie Lincoln. Inside, I’m still simmering.
When we reach home around five, I know I need to pack for my trip tomorrow for the away game. But something’s bothering me.
I check the Serenity phone. I know there’ll be no messages or missed calls, even though a part of me wants her to have contacted me, telling me she’s changed her mind.
But doubts linger in my mind about why she was always making excuses, and I want the truth.
Right now, early Friday evening, this was our time. Only a week ago, I was kissing her, and I thought she might have been a virgin.
I realize now that I was totally naïve.
Because I think I know now what’s really been going on.
I pick up the phone from my desk. My fingers hover over the screen. She’ll have finished her shift at The Bounty by now.
She answers on the first ring, her voice a little breathy and unsure. ‘Jake?’ she says.
I hate how my heart swells at the sound of her voice, how it grounds me, puts me back on her leash.
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. ‘Hey. I, uh, wanted to meet you. At the cabin. Tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ she asks.
‘Just to talk. There’re some things I’d like to say to you. How about eight o’clock?’
Her voice tremors. ‘Eight is difficult for me.’
I roll my eyes. There she goes again. This is why I don’t feel I can entirely trust her. ‘I travel tomorrow. Eight is the only time I can do. You don’t have to stay long. Maybe a half hour.’
