Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three

Ben Havleck, May 2016

He walked forward distractedly, lost in careful thought as was his default state of mind. It was a bad place to be unaware, within a throng of eager spectators. As the junior sauntered ahead, he bumped shoulders with a tall, black-haired boy, ripping him abruptly back to reality.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as the boy hurried off in the opposite direction. Now, more aware of his surroundings, he realized with a sudden rush of excitement that he recognized a pair of boys standing against the chain linked fence some twenty meters in front of him. Eagerly, he rushed forward, opening his mouth and preparing to call out for their attention.

“I hope Sean isn’t too bummed.” Ben could hear the taller of the two’s voice carry to his ears as he approached. “Outside the top two, doesn’t seem like the times were that fast.”

“He just got sucked out way too fast,” said the shorter, “If he had been in that small school race, he would have been way better off.” Ben shortened his stride, slowing and keeping out of view. He sensed the direction the conversation was beginning to turn and didn’t want to be present for its next stage. Cautiously, he snuck himself along the side of the fence, hiding from view behind a set of wider spectators.

“What did they finish in?”

“Like 9:17, I think. Sean might have been able to win that race.”

“Probably. But who would even care? It’s not like it’s a real state title. It’s small schools. Nobody any good runs in that division.”

“True … So should we go try and find Quinn?” The shorter boy looked back over his shoulder in the opposite direction of Ben.

“Yeah, I think she was heading toward the tent.”

Ben leaned forward to catch sight of his former Downingtown teammates disappearing back into the ocean of spectators. Gradually, the distance between them increased until Ben could no longer see them.

Jimmy Springer, May 2016

“Can I get an Orange Gatorade and a pretzel, please?”

“Four dollars.”

He reached into his wallet and put a five dollar bill on the counter. In exchange, an orange bottle and a salted pretzel were handed to him. “Thanks,” Without waiting for his change, he turned and left. “Have a good one.”

Jimmy walked underneath the stadium steps, enjoying the cool shade it provided. Then, he made a left, pushing open the door to the bathroom. Seeing it was empty, he walked up to the closest urinal. Almost as soon as he reached the stall, he heard the swinging of the door behind him and a pair of boys joined him in the room. In turn, each took a place next to him at the stalls.

“Dude, watching Jayson out there today was unbelievable,” the first of the two entrants said boldly, clearly unconcerned about being overheard. “It gets me pumped up to get out this summer and train hard for cross. We could do something special.”

“Yep,” his friend standing beside him kept his response short and curt. He sounded vaguely uncomfortable.

“Like just think about it. Jayson’s our front runner. We have four other experienced seniors. But then after that, it’s pretty wide open for the last varsity spots-you know?”

“Yep.”

“Honestly, I’ve never felt as invested as I do right now. I’ve got a good feeling about-”

“Ian!” The less chatty of the two boys burst out, “Could you chill? I can’t pee while you’re talking.”

“Oh-yeah, for sure.” The boy named Ian walked back away from the urinal, his business apparently finished. Jimmy followed shortly thereafter, his bladder equally depleted. “You know, Tom,” The boy continued, he and Jimmy now washing their hands side by side, “I never thought of you as a shy pee-er. Like Todd? He’s got shy pee-er written all over him. You on the other hand? Thought for sure you’d have a stronger stream presence.”

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, I’m done. I promise.” He moved to the paper towel dispenser, Springer following in his wake. He pulled down on the lever, unleashing a long string of rough, brown paper, then tore it in two and handed some to the man behind him. “Here you go, dude.” Ian said, looking up into Jimmy’s face for the first time. He looked back at Tom before immediately looking back at the newly crowned state champion.

“Thanks,” Jimmy said, taking the towel and drying his hands. He stared awkwardly at Ian whose mouth was hanging slightly agape.

“Holy crap,” he said, slowly coming to his senses. “You’re Jimmy Springer!” Jimmy fought the urge to reply with “I know”. “Can I maybe, like, get a picture with you or something?” Ian asked, taking out his phone excitedly.

“In the bathroom?” Springer asked, looking around uncomfortably.

“Maybe just like-like a selfie or something?” He tried holding his arm out at different angles, inching himself closer to the Union Valley junior’s personal space. “Tom, can you take this picture for me real quick?”

“Kinda in the middle of something over here, Ian.”

“Here,” Jimmy said offering his help. He took the phone from his fan and stretched out his long arms to full extension. Hoping to remove himself from this bizarre situation as quickly as possible, he snapped a picture and passed back the device.

“Awesome. Thank you, man,” Ian replied in awe, now looking down at the picture.

“Yeah, no problem,” Despite himself, Jimmy smiled slightly at the look on his fan’s face. “And, hey, good luck training this summer. Maybe I’ll see you guys up at states.”  Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared out of the bathroom back into the consistent throng of traffic. As the door swung shut, he heard a final snippet of conversation behind him.

“Tom, did you hear that?!”

“DAMN IT, IAN! STOP TALKING!” 

Ben Havleck, cont.

Ben turned his attention back to the track, trying to brush off the conversation he had just overheard. They were lining up the competitors for the large schools 4x800 meter relay. He looked at the lead off runners, examining each of their faces carefully. What makes these kids so different from me? He thought bitterly. I would have been right with the medalists in large schools. The gun sounded as the middle distance runners sprinted off the line. And I wouldn’t have had to deal with such a slow early pace either.

“Coatesville out well,” The announcer projected over the speaker, “With Baldwin, North Penn and Lower Dauphin chasing. Senior Sean Dawson running lead leg for the Raiders.”

Ben could feel his legs aching as he stood along the fence. The remnants of his previous struggle begged him to get off his feet. He took one last, long glance at the track before turning his back on the relay and looking up into the stands. They looked crowded. Mentally, he prepared himself to trudge through the masses, hoping to find a place among the established relationships that had already assembled. Just like breakfast that morning. Just like his life in general.

“It’s now Cumberland Valley powering ahead! Chris Fuller makes the pass as we head into the exchange. Coatesville will be next, followed by Baldwin and then West Chester North!”  

Despite his fatigued lower body, Ben couldn’t resist putting off his quest for seating to watch the teams battling along the home stretch. He turned back around and, as he did, spotted a familiar face.

“Ben?” A taller girl with blonde hair was waving to him. “Ben!”

“Katie?” He replied in shock, walking a little ways up the straightaway to stand beside her. “How are you doing?” To his surprise, when he drew even, Katie reached out and hugged him. He returned the gesture nervously.

Ben had met Katie a few months ago at the Muhlenberg Invitational, an indoor track meet he attended with the hopes of qualifying for the state championship. She had been very friendly, but their interaction had been relatively short and uneventful. So a hug seemed like a rather forward greeting.

“I’m doing well,” Katie said, smiling. “I saw your race earlier. You did so awesome!”

“Thanks,” Ben tried to sound appreciative, but couldn’t completely hide his disappointment. “And Terrence did really well, too. He had a great kick.” At the conclusion of his and Katie’s first meeting, he had learned his budding rival, Terrence Griffen of Wyomissing, was Katie’s boyfriend. He had assumed this was still the case, but when he mentioned Griffen’s name, he was surprised to see Katie’s previously cheery expression sour.

“Yeah,” she replied tartly, “Too bad. I was really rooting for you to beat him.”

“Er-Thanks” Although curious to further investigate the odd change of tone, Ben opted instead to change the subject. “I saw you competed yesterday, right? In the high jump? Looked like you did pretty well.”

“You saw that?” She perked back up, “I actually jumped a PR by a couple inches and really got luck with my misses. I ended up 5^th when the tiebreakers were factored in.”

“That’s great! Congratulations!”

“Thanks!” They looked back at the track as the runners came storming down the straightaway.

“Here comes West Chester North! A huge leg from junior Will Aldrich! He’s now powering away from Coatesville and will give his team the lead as we move to the anchor leg!”

“I didn’t know you were here yesterday,” she continued after the runners had passed, “I would have looked for you to say hi.”

“It’s OK, I wasn’t here that long,” Ben said dismissively. “I just went out to jog for a bit, but otherwise tried to stay out of the heat.” Why would she go out of her way to see me? he thought, We barely even know each other.

“Coatesville and North Penn both out very fast on this anchor leg! It’s back to a two team race. Kyle King for the Raiders against Bernard Mirun for the Knights!” The announcer’s voice incited the crowd as the relay in front of them approached it’s concluding lap. A runner in a light blue jersey held a slight lead over another in black.

“So who do you think’s gonna win?” Katie asked Ben, watching the two runners fight alongside each other.

“Coatesville,” Ben said, slightly more aggressively than intended. “No doubt.”

“Why do you say that?” The runner in blue continued to hold an advantage with just half a lap to go in the race. “That guy in first looks pretty comfortable.”

“They’ve got this coach-Alberto Solares. He’s coached Olympians, so imagine the upgrade he is over your typical high school coach.” As if in response to Ben’s comments, Coatesville’s anchor leg sprang to life off the final turn and charged furiously ahead. Pumping his arms, he powered away from his North Penn counterpart and crossed the line first, raising his fist victoriously as he finished.

“Wow,” Katie said, her eyes up the track watching the winning teammates regroup and celebrate, “You called that perfectly. How’d you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Ben shrugged sheepishly, “I’m pretty passionate about this stuff I guess.” The gold medal relay was now lining up for a picture. Holding the camera, a man with a navy blue Ares sweater directed them into position. “Especially the coaching piece.”

“Yeah, I’d be lost without my coach. She’s made me a lot better.” Ben nodded politely, but remained silent. Katie noticed and correctly interpreted his silence as unhappiness. “Do you not like your coach?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly. I just wish he had a bit more experience.”

“Ah, I gotcha. Is he, like, a younger guy? Because sometimes the coaches just out of college are a little more inventive. Not quite so set in their thinking.”

“What if they’re only 17 years old?”

“17?!” Katie exclaimed. She stared at Ben who raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Wait-are you saying … you’re your coach?”

“Yep,” he nodded again, sporting a wry smile. “Bloomsburg High doesn’t technically have a track or cross country team. I lobbied to get club status so I can compete in the PAL and stuff, but we’ve got no school funding.”

“And that means no money to pay a real coach.”

“Ouch,” Ben replied in a voice of mock woundedness.

“Oh c’mon!” Katie said defensively, “You know what I mean!”

“I know, I know,” he laughed, “I’m just messing with you.”

As the conversation slid into silence, they turned back to the track, hoping for something to revive the dialogue. The last team had already come straggling home and the runners were disseminating in their respective quartets, slinking away from the finish and back to the check-in tent. With his colloquial crutch gone, Ben turned back to face Katie, internally debating the next set of words he could piece together into a phrase.

But before he could stumble through a sentence, Katie took the reins. “Did you want to grab some food from the snack bar? I was on my way to get a pretzel when I ran into you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ben replied, “I could use a Gatorade or something.” And he followed her away from the edge of the fence back toward the stadium’s far corner, failing to realize this was the opposite direction that Katie had been headed when they ran into one another.

Jimmy Springer, cont.

Jimmy wandered out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants. So what now? He thought. The 4x800 had to be starting soon, one of his favorite events in track. Removing his back pack from his shoulders, he reached inside and rummaged around for his phone to check the time. He shifted through miscellaneous objects, tossing them aside until he landed on his target.

“Yo Springer!”

Jimmy stopped, his hand grasped around his phone, and looked up to determine the source of the voice. A stocky boy with dark hair was walking toward him. He wore a red shirt with cut off sleeves and a pair of black shorts. His physique was muscular and his face was handsome.

“Hey what’s up Devon,” Jimmy said releasing his phone and extending his hand for a slap and a shake before precariously replacing his pack on his left shoulder. “How’d the semi-finals go?”

“Not good, dude,” Devon replied with a sheepish smile. “I’m really feeling the effects of last night.” He ran his hand through the top of his hair. While the top was long enough to properly comb through, the sides were buzzed short. “How’d you do?”

“I did alright,” Jimmy brushed off the question, “What time did you go back to your room last night? I didn’t even see you leave.”

“You don’t remember?” Devon asked in amazement, “Bro-I walked back with you.” He stared at Jimmy, waiting for some type of acknowledgement. 

“Ahh, that’s right … I remember now,” he lied. Devon looked back at him skeptically.

“Man, I had no clue you were so messed up.”

“I was fine. I just needed a little something to take the edge off, you know?”

“Whatever you say,” Devon shook his head in disbelief, “You heading back in a couple hours? I heard they are starting up again at 3.”

“Eh, probably not. Just gonna watch the races. How ‘bout you?”

“Nah, I think my coach is trying to get us out of here after Mary Kate runs the hurdle finals.” He paused, pulling out his phone and typing out a text. “Besides, they wouldn’t let me in by myself”

“What do you mean? Those guys seemed pretty chill.”

“That wasn’t just some party, Springer.” He looked up from his phone to give Jimmy a proper stare. “That was a goddam recruiting pitch. They’re trying to get you to come to Shippensburg.”

“Well, I doubt that was all for me. You’d be a good recruit for them too.” As he spoke, he shifted his weight and his still open back pack spilled some of its contents onto the ground between them.

“Yeah, but I’m not an effing state champion,” Devon said, reaching down for the discarded golden award. “Just alright, huh?” With a twinge of annoyance, he handed the medal to Jimmy, who blushed slightly but otherwise remained silent. He thought further elaborating on his disappointment with his performance would do more harm than good.

“See you around, Springer.” Devon finished before disappearing and leaving behind the mess of outstanding fallen items. In the fresh silence, Jimmy heard the stadium announcer’s voice reverberate around him.

“Coatesville out well,” The voice projected over the speaker, “With Baldwin, North Penn and Lower Dauphin chasing. Senior Sean Dawson running lead leg for the Raiders.”

Ben Havleck, cont.

After stopping at the snack bar to pick up some refreshments, Katie and Ben set off on a walk around the perimeter of the track. Then they circumvented the stadium itself. And before long, they were exploring the edges of Shippensburg’s campus.

Topics bounced freely through their conversation, touching on the obvious, like school and track, and the obscure, like whether the Red Hot Chili Peppers were better than actual chili peppers or if teleportation would be invented during their lifetimes.

“Would you actually use a teleporter if it was invented?” Ben asked as they passed by the same dining hall he had visited that morning, “Or would you be too worried about splinching?”

“What the hell is ‘splinching’?”

“You know-like when wizards apparate-”

“Hold on-wizards? How’d we get on wizards?”

“Because they’re the ones who-wait … have you not read Harry Potter?”

“No.” Ben stopped and stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “But I saw the movies. Does that count?”

“No, no, definitely not.” Ben waited, but was disappointed to see she did not recognize the reference. “I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.”

She laughed. “That much of a deal breaker, huh?”

He sighed dramatically. “I’ll let it slide this time. But it’s going to hurt your creditability as we continue this teleportation conversation.”

“Fair enough,” she smiled and paused to think of her response. After a moment, “I think I’d do it. It would just open up so many more opportunities. I could travel more … I could go to college anywhere I wanted and still be able to visit home.”

“Where would you pick?

“For college?”

“Yeah-Like if you were accepted everywhere and distance wasn’t an issue. Where would you go?”

“Um … I don’t know …” She fidgeted with her hands, “I never really thought about it.”

“Never?” Ben responded, sounding surprised.

“Haha no!” She said mildly taken aback. “Sounds like you have though …”

“Yeah,” He found himself suddenly feeling sheepish. “For me, it’s Georgetown,” he spoke more softly than originally intended, “I’ve wanted to go there for as long as I can remember.”

When he fell completely silent, Katie piped up, trying to prod him into continuing. “So are you applying there early decision? Increase your chances of going?”

“No,” Ben said, his voice shifting to a mildly darker inflection, “I’m not going there.”

“What do you mean? You just said it’s your dream school. If you’re worried about grades, sometimes the standards they post-”

“I’m not worried about that,” he said dismissively. Then, realizing how cocky he sounded, he lamely added, “I mean-I think I at least have a shot to get in based on my application.”

“OK, so what’s the problem then?”

Now it was Ben’s turn to fidget. “If I tell you, do you promise not to laugh?”

“Of course,” She nodded.

He paused and looked up into her eyes. Then, he plunged ahead. “I can’t run there.”

“Can’t run there? How do you know?”

“Well, I went to visit a couple weeks ago and-you may not believe this-but I thought back to our conversation that we had back at Muhlenberg. About talking to coaches?” She shook her head to affirm, but otherwise did not interrupt. “Right, so, I went to the coach’s office and talked to him.” He gulped, unexpectedly emotional, “And it was a failure. He had no interest. Barely gave me the time of day.”

“I’m sorry, Ben. That sucks.”

“It’s alright,” he lied. They circled around the dorms where the high schoolers were staying during the state championship weekend and started their journey back to the track stadium.

“I wouldn’t give up on that dream, though.” Katie said firmly when they had finished their about face. “You never know what’s going to happen.”

“Eh, I guess so. Not sure I could ever bring myself to run for that coach, though.”

“Maybe he’ll get fired,” Katie shrugged, “If he couldn’t spot a diamond in the rough like you, he’s probably not a very good coach.” She smiled and Ben half-heartedly returned the gesture. “I mean, you just finished 3^rd in the state!”

“For small schools, though. Did you see those large school guys? They were on a whole other level. If I really want to be considered one of the best, those are the kids I have to beat.”

“So why don’t you?”

“What do you mean?” He looked at her, his expression shrouded in befuddlement. He explained again, feeling repetitive. “We are in different classifications. Bloomsburg’s not just a ‘small school’ it’s microscopic. I mean I don’t even have a real coach.”

“Or teammates.”

“Rub it in.” He said sourly.

“No, Ben-you don’t have teammates. So you can pick your own classification without anybody getting hurt.” His unblinking gaze indicated to her that he had yet to catch on. “The classifications weren’t put in so the large school kids could move up,” She pressed, “They were put in to let the small school kids move down. Give them a fair chance to compete.” They were almost back at the stadium now, approaching one final crossing before the large parking lot. “But it’s just you. Only you would have to deal with the disadvantage. If you want to race the large school kids-race the kids from the best facilities and training programs-no one is going to stop you.” She paused briefly to check for traffic at the street corner. “Especially not your small school competition.”

Ben let the realization wash over him as they crossed the road. From their heightened proximity, the sounds of the stadium were drifting once more to his ears. The familiar roar of the crowd echoed around his mind, taking him back to the amazing race he had witnessed that morning. Only now it was a shorter, dark haired boy sprinting head to head against the great Jimmy Springer.

“What time is it?” Katie asked, slowing her pace slightly as they neared the stadium’s surrounding fence.

“Uh … a little after one o’clock,” Ben said looking down at his wrist, “Wow, that was quite the walk! I didn’t realize we were out that long.”

“Yeah, time flies.” She came to a complete stop now, standing and staring at him. Seemingly waiting for something. They stood in increasingly awkward silence. Is she waiting for me to do something?

“So … Kaite,”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think-um-” He felt a bead of cold sweat drip down under his armpit. She looked at him hopefully. “I-uh-have a haircut appointment tomorrow. What kinda haircut do you think I should get?”

She looked back at him in confusion, completely caught off guard by the seemingly random question. What kind of haircut should I get? He thought, guessing that her surprise was likely mirrored in his own expression. Despite the odd remark, Katie recovered well. She curled her agape mouth into a smile and stepped closer to Ben.

“Your hair is so long and messy,” she said, running one of her hands through his hair. “I think it would look a lot better if you just buzzed it all off.” She let a particularly long strand flop back onto his head. It dawned on Ben how close their faces now were. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“And your large school 800 meter champion,” the announcer’s voice echoed around them, “Kyle King from Coatesville.

“What?” Ben pulled his head back and whipped it around to face the track. Katie stumbled slightly beside him. “Kyle King?” He remarked in amazement. Ben looked back at Katie, surprise etched across his face, but she did not echo his enthusiasm. “That’s a huge upset.” He said trying to impart upon her the importance of the moment.

“Yeah … not exactly what I expecting either …” she muttered with a subtle hint of frustration.

“Crazy, right?” Ben replied excitedly, oblivious to her alternative meaning, “Do you think they have the results posted already?” As he stared into her stone-faced expression, the smile at the tips of his lips slowly began to droop. “What?”

“Good luck with those results, Ben.” She said, shaking her head and walking away. “I hope they’re satisfying.”

NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Four

Chris Cline, September 2016

  No more parties in L.A., please, baby no more parties in L.A., uh … No more parties in L.A., please baby no more parties in L.A., uh …

Chris parked carefully on the side of the road. A few other cars were parked on the street already, some positioned better than others.

… Friday night tryna make it into the city … Breakneck speeds, passenger seat somethin’ pretty … Thinking back to how I got here in the first place … Second class bitches wouldn’t let me on first base …

He sat in his car, tapping his finger rhythmically on the steering wheel. The song lyrics wafted over him as he absentmindedly waited. He was hoping that someone else would arrive soon, allowing him to ride their coat tails into the house. It would be less awkward than entering alone.

… When did I become A list? I wasn’t even on A list …

Eventually, he couldn’t justify waiting any longer and forced himself out of the car. “Alright,” he muttered quietly to himself, “Let’s do this.”

Tonight was West Chester North’s fall Homecoming Dance, an event that had been serving Chris bite-sized pieces of stress three times a day. The latest dish was a pre-dance picture taking session with a group of relative strangers. At the conclusion of his short walk, he took a deep breath and prepared to face his discomfort. Chris raised his good fist to the door and knocked. Here we go.

Over the last month, Chris’s social circle had been tossed around a tornado. A broken hand had pulled him away from his old teammates on the football team and replaced them with a rag-tag group of cross country runners. Then a split with his cheerleader girlfriend compounded things, cutting him off from another group of compatriots. Whether he clicked with them or not (he didn’t), they had still been the people he saw most often on a Saturday night. As a senior in high school, he somehow found himself starting over in his quest for identity. 

“Hello there,” A friendly face appeared at the door atop a long, skinny body. “Come on in! The others are all around back.” Chris stepped inside awkwardly and followed her through the kitchen into a large, open living room. Here, a crowd of his peers was gathered, dressed in suits and dresses. Some were posing uncomfortably for photos in front of parents, while others chatted in pockets of three or four, often times segregated by gender. Behind them was a long, ornate staircase that Chris had a feeling he would be posing on at some point tonight.

“Here we are!” The woman who had brought him stood aside to let Chris step ahead of her, “We have sodas and chips on the island in case you’re hungry.” She pointed at a well-stocked counter top, “If you need anything else, just ask me or Dave. We’ll be fluttering around.” Another dull thud sounded from the entranceway, calling the host back into the atrium and leaving the party’s newcomer to fend for himself. Chris looked around, hoping to catch sight of someone he knew. He took a tentative step forward.

“Hey,” A familiar voice called to him as a girl approached from the right. “You’re late.”

He smiled at her, “Good to see you, too.” Sarah stood opposite him wearing a long, light blue dress. Her hair was carefully and ornately pinned up. “You look nice.”  He tried to make his compliment sound as casual and innocent as possible, but she ignored it.

“She was starting to get worried you weren’t going to show up.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’m barely even late-” He glanced down at a shiny silver watch on his wrist. Admittedly, he was fairly late. “Where is she?”

“I think her and Alexa were getting some pictures outside. But they should be back soon …” She glanced back over her shoulder expectantly. “Here she is.”

“Where?” Chris followed her gaze, but couldn’t pick out his date from the crowd ahead, “I don’t see-oh, wow.” When he finally found Maggie his mouth dropped open. Her signature combination of glasses and bushy hair were gone, erased by contacts and a hair straightener. She wore a light pink dress and, for the first time Chris could remember, she had put on makeup. When she caught sight of the two of them she smiled broadly and waved, walking carefully forward to make sure she didn’t stumble in her heeled shoes.

“Hi Chris!” She said cheerily. With the sound of her voice to accompany her appearance, she became more identifiable.

“Hey Maggie! I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair like that. You look great!”

She blushed slightly. “Yeah, I had to start getting ready at like noon. Not sure it was worth it.” She laughed lightly. “Were you waiting here long?”

“No, I just got here a little bit ago. And I had Sarah to wait with so-” He turned to his right, expecting to see another woman at his side, but no one was there. He briefly paused, staring at the spot where she had been in confusion. “So … uh … I was ok.” He recovered. “I, um, have something for you by the way.” Chris raised a small white box from his side and opened it up, presenting a pink-flowered corsage.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Should I-like-put it on or …?”

“We should probably wait. I think my mom is going to want to get a picture.” Her face was glowing red again. “They’re kinda … enthusiastic about all of this.”

“Haha no worries, my parents were the same way.” Chris smiled, “Junior Prom last year was an experience.”

“But they aren’t here, are they?” She asked, checking over both his shoulders, “So something happened to make them chill out?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell them this time.” He shrugged.

“Haha I’ll have to remember that for next time. But for now you will have to deal with them.” As she finished her sentence, a petite brown haired woman and a bulkier man with shaved hair appeared at their side. Chris recognized the couple as Maggie’s parents almost immediately. Maggie had a very similar face to her mother, but her eyes were exactly like her father’s.

“Hi, you must be Chris! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He took Mrs. Warren’s hand and her husband’s in turn.

Chris smiled broadly, “Great to meet you both as well.”

“You may want to save those muscles,” Mr. Warren remarked teasingly, gesturing toward his wife’s camera. “They’re going to be sore soon.”

Together, Chris and Maggie posed from some cliché, mildly awkward photos, but otherwise Chris found the experience relatively painless. Although he had been previously dreading this night, he found himself drifting toward optimism. He felt at ease with Maggie’s parents and soon learned her dad was a big football fan. Once they dove into that topic, the pit previously weighing down his stomach began to dissolve. For a brief moment, he was comfortable.

As they transitioned from high school to the professional ranks, Chris caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. A surprising duo was posing together for pictures in another corner of the room.

“The bye week just comes at a brutal time. It’s so early in the season, you don’t even need it.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied, his eyes drifting periodically back to the corner, “Terrible timing.”

“Brendan?” Mrs. Warren remarked, gently touching the shoulder of her husband, “Do you have my keys? I need something from the car.”

“What is it? I can run out and get it,” As Mr. Warren reached distractedly into his pocket, Chris seized the moment to look unabashedly across the room. Sarah was standing in front of a pair of adults he could only assume were her parents, posing for pictures with a tall, lean boy dressed in a suit and sneakers. No way, he thought to himself, She can’t be dating him.  What are the odds?

He stared into the smiling face of Will Aldrich, one of two captains of the cross country team. From the moment Chris had joined the squad, Will had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the football star. And quite frankly, the feeling was mutual. The animosity between them had nearly spilled over into an argument at the team’s most recent pre-race dinner the previous weekend.

“Chris?” Maggie’s curious prod brought refocused him on his surroundings, “You OK?”

“Yeah,” he lied, putting on a smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He tried to take a casual pause, but in his haste for answers, he found himself diving straight into his next sentence, “Sarah and Will … Are they-?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

“No,” he said, trying to conceal his disappointment, “This is the first I’ve heard about it.”

“Huh,” Maggie responded with an unconcerned shrug. “You’d think that would have come up at some point.”

“Yeah … she must have just forgotten to mention it.”

“Alright everyone!” From the front of the room, the woman who had answered the door upon Chris’s arrival was seeking the attention of the group at large. “It’s almost time to leave for the dance, but before we all scatter, if we could have all the kids move to our staircase, there’s one more picture we need to get!”

After the seemingly endless picture taking was finished, Chris traversed back out to his car, gently massaging his jaw. Because he was one of just a handful of students there with his license, Maggie had asked if he could drive her and her friend Alexa to the dance. He didn’t mind as he guessed (correctly) that he would barely be able to tell the extra passenger was even there. The first time the two had met, the tall blonde had attempted to disappear into a wall. However, this did mean that Chris had to further postpone his talk that he planned to have with Maggie.

He had wanted to make sure he made it clear that he only wanted to attend the dance as friends, but he had been nervous about his date’s potential reaction to this detail. That dread had already compelled him to put off the conversation more than once. But the longer he waited to discuss this, the more likely it was that things would end poorly. The car ride to the dance had seemed like a safe, private location originally, but with Alexa on board, the opportunity was lost. Even if she did try and hide in the seat cushions.

As they parked the car in the crowded gymnasium lot, Chris was reminded of just how many people went to West Chester North High School. Students flocked in droves into the hall, some in couples and others just as packs of friends. Soon all of these kids would be gathered on the makeshift dance floor, turning their attention as one to the homecoming court. Waiting eagerly to see who be crowned king and queen. He let out a deep sigh and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants.

“What was that?” Maggie said, appearing at his hip as the trio approached their entrance, “Don’t tell me you’re actually nervous?”

Chris smiled sheepishly, “What-I’m not allowed to be a little anxious right now?”

“C’mon! You’ve played important football games in front of crowds three times this big. This should be nothing for you.”

“I don’t know … this is just different. But, whatever, let’s just go have fun.” He opened the door and allowed his two companions to walk through first. The atrium was well decorated with all sorts of construction paper, glitter and paint. The loud, thumping bass of music was palpable, even from this distance. Chris looked around him, taking in the art as they trekked up the hall. It was amazing how the school had been transformed so much since he had been in class just a day earlier. How did they find time to do all this?

“Amazing what can be accomplished when you aren’t wasting your afternoons running,” a familiar voice remarked, as if reading his mind. Chris turned to find his friends Andy and Matt from the cross country team standing before them. They greeted each other with smiles and waves. Maybe it was just Chris’s imagination, but Matt seemed a little less enthusiastic than his counterpart.

“Hey guys, how’s the party?” Chris asked as the group of five positioned themselves off to the side of the hallway to the right of the flow of traffic.

“It seems alright so far.” Matt remarked with a shrug.

“A little cramped though,” Andy added, “I need a decent amount of space for some of my moves.” He mimed a rhythmic spin and his slightly extended arm narrowly missed a flock of tiny, freshman girls who were walking past.

“I can see why that might be an issue,” Maggie said with a laugh, grabbing him and pulling him back in their direction. “We missed you guys at pictures by the way!”

“Yeah, we kinda got caught up doing our own set.” Andy reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He scrolled up to his album, pressed and then handed it across. Chris watched as Maggie scrolled through the saved photos.

“Holy crap, how many pictures did you guys take?” Chris asked in amazement as Maggie continued to cycle through more and more images. The boys were in a variety of poses, locations and even outfits.

“We did the first one purely for the joke, but then we kept coming up with other clever ideas. So naturally we had to do all of them.”

“And how did your dates feel about this photo shoot?” Chris said as Maggie handed back the phone, still not positive they had made it through the entire album.

“Neither of us had one. So really the only person that was inconvenienced was my mom.” Matt replied. “We made her take all the pictures.” He added, noticing the confused look on his friends faces.

“I thought you guys had already asked people though? What happened?”

Andy and Matt exchanged a quick glance, before the former explained. “Well, I asked someone, but Matty here,” he patted his friend on the shoulder, “took his sweet time getting around to asking the girl he wanted to take. And then somebody else asked her. So I had to go back and tell my date I couldn’t take her anymore.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Chris said, eyes widening with surprise, “You guys can’t be that codependent …”

“I’m not proud, but it happened … Actually,” he added in a quiet voice, “I can prove it right now.” A tall brunette girl Chris recognized from the volleyball team walked in their direction. She flashed Andy a look of cold loathing as she passed. “Hey Laura, how’s the-”

“Go to hell, Andy.” She spit icily without breaking stride.

Once she was out of earshot, Andy continued, “Still don’t believe me?”

“Ouch. Sorry dude.”

“It’s for the best,” Matt said, now taking a turn placing his hand on his friends’ shoulder. “It’s important for the women in Andy’s life to know that I will always come first.”

“You guys are so weird,” Maggie replied, shaking her head. “Now c’mon, let’s go inside and dance!”

Although she was the only one who seemed particularly motivated to enter the gym, the group of five trudged off together to join their peers. The music was blaring loudly with a few colorful lights peppering an otherwise dark room. They waded through pockets of bopping students until they found an open space in the back. The music turned to a new song as they settled on their block.

On your mark ready set let’s go … Dance floor pro I know you know … I go psycho when my new joint hit, just can’t sit … Gotta get jiggy wit it, that’s it …

Chris started a cautious dance routine and Maggie and Alexa followed his lead. However, Matt and Andy easily tossed their inhibitions aside and began to showcase some of their best moves. Their enthusiasm was infectious and by the end of the song everyone had started to loosen up.

As the songs continued, various others rolled through their group. Austin Lynch visited the boys while Drake’s “Show Me A Good Time” blasted across the speakers. A gaggle of girls that Maggie and Alex knew from one of their study groups passed through as “Twist and Shout” reverberated about. And then, as Chris had been hoping since their arrival, Sarah joined them for the first time. To his pleasant surprise, she was without Will.

I need you, I need you, I need you right now … Yeah, I need you right now … So don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me down … Thinking I’m losing my mind now …

As a thundering herd, their cluster danced until the last remnants of the Chainsmokers song faded away, leading into a new, slower song. There was a slight groan from the crowd as the previously energetic dancers slowed to halt, staring down their dates as they contemplated whether they were ready to really dance together. Chris and Maggie were no exception. They looked at each other awkwardly and Chris picked his moment to strike.

“Hey Maggie-can we talk for a second? Maybe outside the gym?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile and together they exited the noise. Chris looked briefly back over his shoulder as he left, noticing two different sets of eyes were watching the pair curiously. He swallowed and led Maggie into a hallway that seemed quiet and relatively secluded.

“Pretty loud in there,” Maggie remarked, playing with her ears as she adjusted to the volume change.

“Yeah, it’s like Rodney McLoud out there,” Chris said, his mind only halfway wrapped in the small talk.

She looked at him confused. “What?”

“Look,” he said abruptly, trying to surprise himself into starting the conversation, “I’ve got to be honest with you about something.” He grasped his plastered hand nervously. “I didn’t intend for this to be-like-a date or anything. I think you’re a cool person and stuff, but I just think we work better as friends. What-um-how do you feel about that?” He braced himself for tears or angry screams, expecting the worst. But to his surprise, she giggled.

“Haha, I never really thought of it any other way.” She said with a smile.

“Wait-really?” Chris breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re a nice guy and all, but I don’t think we have any real connection.” She curled her mouth into a sympathetic formation. “You’re just not really my type.”

“Is it the tie? Cause I told the guy at the store it clashed too much with the shoes-”

“Haha you know what I mean! We’re different kinds of people.” They turned around, at the end of the hallway and circled back toward the gym. “Not to mention the fact that you have a crush on my best friend.”

If Chris hadn’t been able to clearly see the open space in front of him, he would have been convinced that he walked straight into a brick wall. “Um … I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about …” He said unconvincingly.

“Oh really? You sure?”

“Ok, let’s say, hypothetically, that was true-it’s not like there’s any evidence.”

“Chris, I hate to break this to you, but her name was on the card you put in my locker.”

“Admittedly, that’s some pretty damning evidence.” He cursed Ernie silently inside his head. “Wait-if you knew I was trying to ask Sarah, why didn’t you say anything to us about it?”

“Because she would have said no,” Maggie said bluntly. “Like quickly and mercilessly.”

“Geez, did you have to wear such sharp heels while you stepped all over my heart?” He scrunched up his face in mock wounded-ness.

Maggie shook her head and laughed, “She just needed time to realize that she liked you too! And seeing you at the dance with me was sure to bring out a bit of jealousy to help her figure things out.”

They were nearly back at the gym now, the sounds of music fluttering back toward their ears. “So this whole time, you’ve been trying to set us up together? That’s pretty generous of you.”

“I want my friend to be with someone that I know will make her happy. Any good friend would do that.”

“What about Will?” Chris asked, remembering back to their earlier pictures.

“Eh, I think he’ll be cool with it. He may not like you, but he respects her right to make her own decisions.”

Feeling puzzled, Chris opened his mouth to respond. However, before he could begin his follow up question, they walked past a trio of dolled-up, popular girls. They stopped and stared at the couple, minds racing as they contemplated the two walking together away from a secluded hallway.

“Hey girls,” Maggie clutched passionately at Chris’s arm and waved her fingers at the stunned spectators with a broad, toothy grin. The ladies gaze followed them, looking both appalled and envious. Once they were out of range, Maggie released Chris’s arm and acted as if nothing had happened. When she looked up at him, she found his eyebrows were raised up toward his hair. “What?”

“Just to clarify-you’re doing this to help make your friend happy?”

“Friends,” she said, blushing slightly, “And, hey, if I get to tweak some of these stuck up bitches in the process, that’s not the worst thing in the world.” Chris burst into a fit of laughter as they returned to the gym and wandered over to rejoin their friends.

“What have you guys been up to?” Matt asked with a hint of aggression as they returned.

“Just talking,” Maggie said nonchalantly, “Did we miss any good songs?”

“Nah, but somebody came by looking for you.” He pointed at Chris. “Tall, goofy dude. Large hands.”

“Ernie,” Chris muttered, mostly to himself. He reached into his pocket, feeling around for his phone. By mistake, he first removed Maggie’s phone which he had been holding for her. Replacing it, he recommenced his search.

“He said he tried calling you and you didn’t answer,” Matt continued, looking back and forth at the two of them, seemingly looking for some type of reaction.

Chris pulled out his phone and pressed the button for the home screen. Nothing happened. “Phone’s dead,” he said frustrated. “Which way did he come from?”

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but never got the chance to give his answer. Just then, the music lowered and a loud voice echoed around the dance floor.

“ALL MEMBERS OF THE HOMECOMING COURT AND THEIR DATES PLEASE REPORT TO THE FAR STAIRWELL AT THIS TIME … HOMECOMING COURT TO THE FAR STAIRWELL.”

“Crap,” Chris exclaimed, taking one last glance around for his wide receiver. “Well, I guess I’ll have to catch up with him later.” He looked down at his date. “You ready, Maggie?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she responded wryly and together they pushed back out through the crowd, leaving a disappointed Matt in their wake. 

“What’s up with him?” Chris asked, feeling once more like he was missing something.

“I don’t know,” Maggie replied quickly, brushing it off. She seemed to know more than she was letting on. As they continued, they passed quickly by Sarah who gave them a small wave, but was otherwise stoic. “Maybe something in the water tonight.”

Eventually, they navigated through the packed dance floor and into the desired hallway. Most of the court had already beaten them there. At the very front of the line, Chris could see his ex-girlfriend Melissa and her friend Gabrielle, accompanied by two large football players. The bigger of the two turned just as Chris looked in his direction and the pair locked eyes. Subconsciously, Chris’s left fist clenched around his bandage as he looked at Coatesville’s linebacker Matt Clayton, the man who had effectively stuck him in that very cast. Unfortunately, his venom could not be concentrated on his rival for long. A voice behind caught his immediate attention.

“Chris Cline and Maggie Warren,” came the pompous voice of Anthony Hawkins, another homecoming court member. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

The quarterback turned angrily away from his football nemesis and over to this new, arguably more infuriating opponent. He and Hawkins had already butted heads at the Homecoming football game with Chris getting the better of him in that war of words. Now he just hoped this battle stayed in words. His fist remained clenched at his side, but he could feel Maggie trying to pull it open and keep him calm.

“Just ignore him, Chris. He’s not worth it,” she whispered at his side.

“Aren’t you gonna hold your girlfriend’s hand, Cline?” Anthony taunted him with a cruel laugh. He looked around for someone else to join in his amusement, managing to corral his friend Justin into a weak laugh. “It’s probably the most action she’s gotten in her entire life.”

Chris could feel himself becoming more heated, his self-control ebbing away. And then, suddenly, his anger turned into joy. A woman had just appeared at Hawkins’s hip, twisting a strand of long blonde hair around her finger tips. Chris’s menacing scowl morphed quickly into a grin as he reveled in the sight of the two together.

“What’s so funny, Cline?” Hawkins said, trying hard to keep his snobby smoothness. He was unnerved by the sudden change of tone from his target.

“Nothing,” Chris said, showing off his grin now for all to see. “Is this your date?” He said, gesturing at the new arrival by his side.

“Yeah,” Anthony replied, playing with his tie uncertainly. He looked at his companion as if he was searching for some joke that had gone over his head. Finding nothing, he dug for some hurtful rhetoric to try and wipe the smile from the quarterback’s face. “Alicia Silverthorn.” Getting no reaction from his reveal, he continued, “Impressed?”

“She seems great,” Chris said with a smile, “She’s got a little something on her nose though.” As he said it, the girl named Alicia grasped desperately at her face, trying frantically to clear something. Smirking slightly, Chris turned away from the couple, took Maggie’s hand and pulled her forward.

“Oh my god,” Maggie said quietly, realization washing over her, “Is that the booger girl?”

“Yep,” Chris replied simply, stopping about halfway up the line, safely out of earshot from Hawkins and his date (who was now rushing off toward the nearest bathroom). Maggie looked at him, searching for more. “She took a shot at you in front of everybody-asked me if I wanted to ‘upgrade my position’. Pissed me off.” He could feel his temperature rising again, so he reconsidered the thought that had brightened his spirit a few moments earlier. “Well, she was even more desperate than I thought if she ended up with Hawkins.”

“So that was a true story? And the booger too?”

“Well … it’s true that I said she had a booger. That was good enough.”

“Isn’t that a little mean?” Maggie said, smiling despite herself.

“Hey, those two had it coming.” Chris replied defensively. “It’s just karma.”

“Well I hope it doesn’t come back to get you.”

 They waited in the hallway a bit longer, eventually joined by cross country captain Ricky Collins and his date, a homecoming court member as well, Jenny Conner. The foursome talked cordially for a bit to pass the time until, eventually, the music cut off and it was time to start the introductions. They went down the list in alphabetical order, starting with Stephen Bishop. Nervously, they filed into line, Chris and Maggie stepping up past Melissa and Matthew Clayton to the third position in line. He purposely avoided eye contact with either of them, finding himself back in a good mood with no intentions to poison it.

“MR. CHRISTOPHER CLINE, ACCOMPANIED BY HIS DATE, MISS MARGARET WARREN”

They walked back into the gym to what Chris felt was a surprising amount of applause. He even thought he heard the sound of kazoos sounding among the noise. Proceeding carefully to ensure he didn’t trip, Chris walked up on to the stage as Maggie disappeared back into the throng.

“MR. RICHARD COLLINS AND MISS JENNIFER CONNER”

Again, he thought he heard the kazoos. From his higher vantage point, he looked out into the masses and discovered the source. Naturally, Matt and Andy were trumpeting away, leading a chorus of cross country team support. It looked like they had enlisted roughly a half dozen band members.

“MISS MELISSA FREDRICKS, ACCOMPANIED BY HER DATE, MR. MATTHEW CLAYTON”

To Chris’s pleasure, there was a low rumble of whispers and even some boos at the proclamation of Clayton’s name. The Coatesville-West Chester rivalry ran deep enough that even non-football players were uninterested in applauding for this outsider. Clayton seemed to revel in the disapproval, holding his hand to his ear for extra encouragement, but Melissa looked visibly put off. Clearly, she had not factored this into her master plan.

 Gradually, the court began to fill up the stage, standing together nervously on display. After Gabby Shephard was herded into the group, all the members of the court had been officially announced. Now, all that remained outstanding was the results of the homecoming voting. Chris looked around at the fellow members of his court to gauge his relative nervousness. He felt he stacked up pretty well, keeping his emotions more bottled than most. Of course, it was very possible he would disagree if instead he was staring up at himself from the sea of peers below.

“… WITHOUT FURTHER ADO … THE 2016 WEST CHESTER NORTH KING AND QUEEN ARE … MELISSA FREDRICKS …” And in that moment Chris seemed to know exactly what was coming next. “… AND CHRIS CLINE!”

Karma’s a bitch, he thought to himself as the school’s vice principal walked forward with a ridiculous looking crown.

“LET’S BRING THESE TWO DOWN FOR A DANCE!”

Melissa stepped down first, clearly caught in a pickle between two strong opposing desires. She had no interest in sharing an awkward ceremonial dance with her ex-boyfriend, but she had also been craving a spotlight as bright as this her entire high school career. Chris lumbered down after her and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the discomfort to come. A school full of eyes fixed upon his embarrassment.

“This is not at all how I pictured it,” she mumbled angrily to herself as the two locked on one another and began to orbit. Chris avoided eye contact with her at all costs, hoping to quickly pass through this moment and on to better ones. He caught glimpses of multiple faces, some grinning perversely at the cruel irony in front of them. “Are you even gonna say anything to me?” She said angrily, looking up at him. He looked at her. He had not been this close to her in a long time. For whatever reason, she looked much less pretty than he remembered.

“Congrats,” he said kindly, “I know this is what you wanted.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said sharply. Just as Hawkins was, she seemed taken aback by his pleasantness in the face of adversity. Feeling satisfied, he gave her one last smile.

“GIVE IT UP ONE LAST TIME FOR OUR KING AND QUEEN!”

On the announcers command, Chris broke free of Melissa and darted back into the throng as one final hearty applause was heard. Free from his prison of awkwardness, he charged ahead without a look back to his queen. By the time he reached Maggie, she had already grouped back up with their original cohort close to their original spot.

“Congrats!” She exclaimed giving him a brief hug.

He returned it clumsily. “Thanks.”

“OK, WEST CHESTER STUDENTS, WE’VE GOT ONE MORE SONG FOR YOU AND THEN WE’RE SHUTTING THINGS DOWN! THANKS FOR BEING SUCH A GREAT CROWD AND GO WARRIORS!”

Another slow song came across the speaker system. Unlike the first such song of the night, the crowd didn’t seem to resent the choice. As the notes began to play, Andy grabbed Matt by the hand and whisked him away into their own routine, leaving Maggie and Chris alone. They looked at one another awkwardly.

“So … you want to dance?” Maggie asked uncertainly.

“Sure,” Once again Chris took up a dancing position. The two waddled slowly back and forth, neither’s eyes on their partner.

… And then she asks me, Do I look all right? … And I say, Yes, you look wonderful tonight …

As they made a small circle, they neared closer to Matt and Andy’s path. Breaking away from his date, Chris moved over to the pair of cross country runners.

“Might if I cut in?” He asked Matt as he extended his arm for Andy.

“As you wish my liege,” he responded, revitalizing his English accent from a week earlier. He stepped aside and Chris took his place, leaving both Matt and Maggie without partners. Slowly, the quarterback steered Andy further and further to the left, increasing the space between them and the two solo dancers. After a small smile, the solos moved together to become a duo, picking up where each had left off.

… And then she asks me, Do you feel all right? … And I say, Yes, I feel wonderful tonight …

Chris watched as the budding couple’s small smiles grew larger. They talked and they laughed. It warmed his heart, spilling over into a pleasant beam of his own.

“I think we can probably stop dancing now,” Andy joked as the two broke apart to better observe their teammate. “Although, I do appreciate the jealous looks I was getting from some of the ladies in your fan club.”

Chris chuckled to himself. “Well, you better capitalize on it while you have the chance.” He said, gesturing ahead of him to a pack of woman stealing covert glances in their direction, “I’ll mange without you.”

“You are a just and noble leader, King Cline,” he said, putting his hand on Chris’s shoulder. “The karma gods will look fondly on your acts of kindness. Now, we ride!” He dashed off, prancing as if he was riding an invisible horse and, as was his way, drawing a ton of attention to himself. Shaking his head and laughing once more, Chris plodded off to the side of the gym to sit on the lone set of open bleachers. He plopped down haphazardly on the end, relaxing his surprisingly tired legs. Then, realizing he had never taken it off, he took off his absurd looking crown and tossed it aside.

“I’m glad you took that off,” A voice said from behind him, “Makes you much more approachable.” His heart skipped a beat as Sarah slid into the row alongside him. “Your highness.” She pretended to curtsey from her seated position.

“Oh gosh, you too? I’m never going to hear the end of this am I?”

“Nope I don’t think so. Not unless you do something that’s even more embarrassing. Like wear cleats to a cross country meet.” She nudged him playfully.

“Very funny,” He responded dryly. They sat together in momentary silence beyond the gentle music around them, watching their remaining peers dance out the final notes of the melody.

“So where’s your date?” Sarah asked, scanning the crowd. “Did she finally get tired of you? I tried to warn her you could be a little much.”

“Haha, yeah she’s upgraded, actually,” he pointed out at his friends, still talking and dancing as enthusiastically as before. For those two it was if there was no one else in the room. “It took me a while to catch on … but better late than never I suppose.” He looked away from the rotating partners and over at Sarah. She looked back at him, differently than she had ever looked at him before. Almost as if she had never seen him in this light. He thought about how nice it would be to lean over and kiss her. “So where’s your date?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, snapping out of her previous mesmerized stare and into a state of confusion. “I didn’t have a date.”

“Oh, c’mon, I saw you guys,” Chris continued, guessing this could all be part of another joke, “You and Will. At pictures.”

“Me and Will?” Sarah laughed, her head tilting back with joy. “Will’s not my date-he’s my brother.”

“Ooohh,” Chris replied, another mystery solved. Internally, he debated whether this made his situation better or worse. Short term-better. Long term …

“So I guess that means you can ask me to dance now, right?”

He laughed uncertainly, a rush of nervous adrenaline surging through him. He got cautiously to his feet, hoping his shaking knees would be strong enough to support him. “Yeah, um, would you like to-” But before he could finish, the music ebbed away and the vice principal was back on the loud speaker.

“THANK YOU EVERYONE, YOU HAVE BEEN AMAZING GUESTS! HAVE A GREAT EVENING AND PLEASE GET HOME SAFELY!”

Chris looked at Sarah, his arm still half extended, cut off mid-sentence. His head spinning slightly, he decided to plow ahead, “Well … the offer still stands,” he said, now extending his arm in earnest.

“Chris, the dance is over,” she laughed, “Are you planning to sing?”

“As entertaining as that would be,” he replied, reaching into his pocket, “I actually had another idea.” He pulled Maggie’s phone out of his pocket and flipped to her music. Pressing shuffle, a song floated out of the device, somewhat decipherable within the slowly emptying room.

Making my way down town … Walking fast … Faces pass … And I’m homebound …

Sarah looked at him with her eyebrows raised, “Wouldn’t have matched this to your iPod. You listen to this before football games?”

“Only when there’s no Sarah Bareilles available,” he replied with a smile. “So are we doing this or not? My arms getting tired.”

Amused, Sarah reached out and took his free arm, allowing him to pull her to her feet and guide her down onto the gymnasium floor.

… And I need you … And I miss you … And now I wonder … If I could fall … Into the sky … Do you think time … Would pass me by …

“You know,” Sarah said as the pair revolved around the outskirts of the floor, dodging exiting students, “You’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Different,” She touched his left hand, feeling the bandaged area. “What happens when this comes off? Are things different again?”

“I’ll still be the same person I’ve always been.”

She gave him a long, searching look.  “Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but as was the theme of the night, he never had the chance to verbalize his latest thoughts.

“CLINE!” The powerful figure of Matthew Clayton was thundering toward them, looking angry. Chris and Sarah broke apart as the former braced himself for confrontation. “Who do you think you are, Cline?!” The linebacker said belligerently, continuing forward until he was nearly nose to nose with the quarterback. Chris could smell the pungent scent of cheap beer on his breath.

“I feel like this is a trick question,” he responded levelheadedly. He had already survived one near altercation tonight without losing his cool. He tried to bottle that same unflappable temperament.

“Melissa just stormed out of here crying,” Clayton fired back unamused, “Said it was because of what you told her during that dance!” He pressed a finger to Chris’s stomach aggressively. There weren’t many students remaining in the gym at this point, but those who remained were now transfixed by the heated dialogue.

“What are you talking about?” Chris tried to rack his brain for what he possibly could have said to upset his ex-girlfriend to such a degree.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Suck-Eye,” The Coatesville Raider responded indignantly. Using a meaty hand, he reached out and pushed Chris square in the chest. Caught off guard by the force of the attack, Chris stumbled backwards.

“Hey, let’s just calm down,” Sarah said calmly, stepping forward to get in between the combatants. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstand-”

“Out of the way, bitch!” Matthew shoved her out of the way with the side of his elbow as he advanced forward toward the disarmed quarterback. Chris rocked back on his heels and lunged, now enraged and ready for a counterattack. But to his surprise, he didn’t get there first.

A wave of bodies rushed forward from multiple sides, blindsiding Clayton and bringing him to the ground. One of the boys took a shot straight to the nose as Clayton lashed out, wildly trying to throw off his attackers. Thrown of rhythm by the changing battlefield, Chris prepared to jump into the scrum, hoping to provide some aid, but he was grabbed from behind by a pair of strong arms. Panting with rage and frustration he heard the voice behind call out to someone nearby. “Bring back up! Call 911!”