Sidekick (6 page)

“Yes, Coach!” we call back.

After weights we suit up and go straight to after-school practice, running plays that Coach thinks will work against Clovis North. I can tell Dallas is still pissed about what I said at lunch because he throws the ball at my face instead of my hands. When he passes to me at all, that is. Garret gets most of the plays, even though Coach says they’ll be covering him like crazy.

I try not to let it bother me. I have my plays memorized anyway. I might not be Garret, but I’m not a bad player. He didn’t beat me out for receiver because I couldn’t catch the ball. He’s just faster on his feet, and I can take more hits, which is a good attribute for a running back. We can all blame Dallas if we lose.

By the time practice ends I’m so hungry my stomach is about to consume my other organs. Right on cue, Garret says, “Parker’s?”

I nod.

We shower fast, staring at the ceiling like everyone else. There’s a lot of talk about Mercedes today, despite Garret telling them to shut up. At least half the team is happy they broke up, as if they were waiting for their chance with her. I don’t see what the big deal is. Yeah, Mercedes is hot, but other than that she’s average. I was never jealous of Garret getting her. Not like with Keira.

Why? No clue. 

“You don’t mind if I ask her out, right, Garr?” Dallas says when we leave the locker room.

Garret pauses, like he’s about to say no, but then he takes a deep breath. “Why would I care?”

“Awesome.” He flashes this crooked smile and heads to his car.

Mercedes would never date Dallas anyway. She may not be a genius, but she’s not stupid either. She’s always dated nice guys, the kind who would never leave her. I pause, realizing Garret’s the first guy to dump her. No wonder she was so upset.

“Russ?”

I look up. Garr’s a few steps ahead of me. One of his eyebrows is raised under his shaggy hair. “You okay?”

“Fine, just starving.”

We drive to Parker’s, and by the time we get there I’m so hungry I can’t think of anything else. The bacon assaults my senses and I start to shake. I’m ordering three burgers today. Luckily, this is the perfect time to go to Parker’s—too late for lunch and too soon for dinner. Sometimes the line is out the door and you have to stand there with the scent of bacon torturing you for half an hour before you can even order.

Trent is at the counter today, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Truth is he would. He’s the only Parker who hates the family business, and his parents aren’t too happy about him wanting to go into animation. I can hardly imagine that kind of fight. My parents would be ecstatic if I showed any interest in college.

“Hey,” he says as he pushes his hair back. He looks miserable, like shaving his eyebrows off would be a better alternative.

“Old Man won’t let you quit, huh?” I ask.

“You don’t quit family,” Trent mimics his dad’s voice. Then he shrugs. “The usual?”

“Plus one.” I hand him a twenty. My parents give me forty a week for mowing the lawn and chores. I pretty much spend it all at Parker’s. I’ve thought about getting a job, but I’d have to quit sports. I’m not ready to give that up, even if this is my last football season. Maybe after that.

Garr and I sit in our usual booth and dig in like we haven’t eaten in months. I barely swallow between bites, and before I realize it I’m two bacon burgers down and starting on the third.

“Russ?”

“Yeah?” I look up from my food. Garret’s staring out the window, his eyebrows pulled down over his dark eyes.

“Do you think she hates me?”

“Who? Mercedes?”

His head snaps to me. “What? No, of course she hates me. I meant Keira.”

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

He puts his head in his hands. “We should have told her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have been mad.”

“Maybe.” I take a bite, trying to decide what I should say. Garret hides it well, but he’s horribly insecure. He freaks out when people don’t like him. In fifth grade, Sharly Martin said she hated him and he spent weeks trying to find out why. “What if she does hate you?”

His eyes grow wide. “What?”

That was the wrong thing to say.
“I’m just saying, Garr. Who cares? There are a lot of girls out there who’d kill to have you so interested.”

“But they don’t know me!” He pounds the table, and I almost slap him for acting like such a drama geek.

“And Keira does?”

He pauses. “No…but…”

“But what?”

He stuffs his mouth with fries while he sulks. Then he swallows. “I just…want her to know me, I guess. I don’t want her to hate me.”

Suddenly all that bacon burger turns over in my stomach. I hate being here—between my own feelings and my best friend’s. It would be so easy to tell him to give up, to keep Keira to myself, to screw him over. And what’s worse, part of me wants to.

But he’s Garret. He stuck up for me in kindergarten when I accidentally peed myself in front of the class. He helped me beat up a high school kid who made fun of Izzy when we were in junior high. He dragged me home last year when I got too drunk and almost jumped into Dallas’s pool from a third story window.

He’s always been there for me. I won’t betray him.

If I told him I liked Keira too, he might get angry with me. Or worse, he’d bow out. Winning by default is the same thing as losing. There’s only one way to handle this. Keira should choose. He can’t get angry over that. I take a long drink, deciding I have to say it. “Invoking the bonds of best friendship. Penalty is deliberately fumbling a winning play.”

Garret tilts his head. “You’re totally jinxing me, but of course.”

“I kind of hang out with Izzy’s friends…a lot. I, uh, watch anime with them.” Saying it out loud feels wrong, and I wait for him to laugh. He doesn’t. “They’re always at my house. If Keira ends up with them—which I’m sure she will if Izzy has anything to say about it—then it probably wouldn’t be weird if I invited you over.”

He smiles slightly. “Really?”

“At least she could get to know us.” I say “us” to see if he’ll pick up on my interest, but he just pats my shoulder once.

“You’re the best, Russ.”

I know he means it, even if it’s not true.

Chapter Seven

It’s one of those rare moments in our family—we’re all together. By some miracle, Dad’s flight schedule changed and he got to come see me play. Usually when he’s not flying, Mom schedules dinner dates and trips to Monterey, but he said he wanted to see my game instead. Even though I miss him sometimes, I get that he has to provide for us. And he loves to fly. I can respect that.

Besides, he takes us on great summer vacations. Last summer we spent a month visiting the Polynesian islands—Tahiti, Fiji, Samoa, Tonga. The year before that was Italy. Izzy is gunning for Japan this year, since the last time we went she was six.

He glances at me in the rearview mirror, his smile crinkling the skin around his eyes. “Great game, Russ. You killed it out there.”

“Thanks.” I smile back. I did rock tonight. Two touchdowns, tied with Garret. I always play better when Dad’s there, maybe because I want to make him proud, or maybe because I don’t want him to think he’s wasting time watching me lose.

“Yeah, yeah. Whoop-de-doo.” Izzy folds her arms, still irritated that Mom made her go to something as normal as a football game. That, and she might be a little pissed about me inviting Garret to anime night. “You can run while holding a lemon ball. Congratulations.”

“Isadora.” Mom’s voice is flat. Izzy rolls her eyes.

They don’t exactly get along, though I’m not sure why. Both of them are decidedly eccentric. Izzy has her anime and Mom has her hobby habit. The last one was scrapbooking. Now she’s decided she’s going to be a seamstress. Whatever her new hobby, she spends most of her time in her office honing it. She comes out to cook dinner for us sometimes, but both of us are pretty self-sufficient at this point.

I punch Izzy’s shoulder. “I’d like to see you play football, just once. See how good you are at it.”

She tries not to smile. “I’d be better than you.”

Dad laughs. “Izzy, don’t be silly. Russ’ll get a scholarship the way he plays.”

That makes me squirm. Even if I do get a scholarship, it won’t be to Stanford or any other big school. And I’m not sure I want to play for some community college. I mean, I like sports—I really do—but they aren’t my life. I don’t picture myself in the NFL or anything close. I don’t picture myself anywhere.

“Have you decided on where you’re applying yet?” Mom asks.

I wince. With college application deadlines approaching, my parents ask this question with increasing frequency. “Not really.”

“I’ll help you figure it out,” Dad says. “It can be kind of overwhelming.”

“Yeah.” I gulp, wondering if I should just say I don’t want to go. But I can’t. They would give me that devastated parental look, like they somehow failed me because I don’t want higher education.

The second we’re home we all spread out. Mom heads for her “sewing” room, while Dad goes to the kitchen. Izzy stomps up the stairs in front of me and slams her door as I pass. I take a shower.

As I rummage through my carpet of clothes for a clean pair of pajamas, my mind wanders to the upcoming anime night. Keira and Izzy hit it off right away. Apparently, the new girl is cool enough to merit starting a full three episodes back from where we ended last week. It might also have to do with Trent missing out, but I think it’s mostly Keira. It’s certainly not in honor of Garret crashing the party.

It’s hilarious to think that the most popular guy in school is ruining Izzy’s night.

My door swings open, and I’m still in my boxers. I grab the first pair of bottoms I see and shove my legs into them. “Damn it, Iz. Try knocking?”

“Why?” She stalks over and plops on my bed. “You think you can just barge into my life without asking.”

“For the thousandth time, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know what else to do when he found out about it.” I grab a clean white shirt and tug it over my head. “Is it really that bad? You’ve known Garr forever; you know he’s not just some jock.”

She pouts. “You really never told him?”

“No.” I sit on the bed next to her. “Why?”

She picks at her fingernails. “I just thought you’d told him, like, forever ago.”

“Oh.” My gut twists as I watch her. Izzy’s not one for serious talks, but I can tell this time she’s dead serious—and hurt.

“How could you not tell your
best friend
?” The last words are shaky. If she starts crying I don’t know what I’ll do.

“Izzy…” I put my arm around her. “You get why, right?”

“Because you’re embarrassed of us.”

“No!” I pull back, stunned. “I-I…no. You guys are like my best friends besides Garret.”

She glares at me. “Oh, I see. So we mean a lot to you, but you won’t admit to hanging out with us. That makes a lot of sense.”

I glare back. “I stick up for you all the time.”

“Yeah, in that popular, big brother kind of way, but you’d never actually admit you’re one of us.”

My mouth hangs open, but the words won’t form. One of them? I am
not
one of them. I don’t wear weird clothes or style my hair like some hipster guitar player. Maybe I’m no Dallas Green, but I’m no Izzy, either. “I don’t really belong anywhere.”

She frowns and leans her head on my shoulder. “Russell Arnold Pearson, don’t make me feel guilty for yelling at you.”

“I’m not trying to.” I put my arm around her again. “I know it looks bad. I’m not saying I’m doing the right thing, but imagine how it would be if I did hang out with you at school. Garret would too, and then we wouldn’t be popular. Who would take our place? Dallas. He’d make our lives hell, and there’d be no one to stop him.”

“So you’re ignoring me…for my own good?”

I sigh. Honestly, I have no clue. I don’t know what I should be doing or what I want to be doing. All I know is that I’m sick of everything. I want to be done with high school and all the stupid games.

She’s not convinced, but the doorbell saves me before she can dig any deeper. Izzy stands and points her finger. “He better not make stupid comments the whole night.”

“I made sure he knows the no-talking policy.” I follow her out my door.

“Get it, will you?” she asks. “I still have to get dressed.” She does look too normal for anime night. Mom wouldn’t let her wear her usual getup to the football game, just jeans and an orange Naruto T-shirt. She did manage to convince Mom the unicorn purse was a new fashion, though.

“Sure.” I hurry down the stairs, unreasonably shaky, but it might be Keira and I have no idea if she’s still pissed or not. I look through the peephole and release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Hey, Daphne. Colin.”

Colin salutes and heads for the living room. Daphne, on the other hand, just stands there, sizing me up. Her black hair is down and wild, and she’s wearing this funky green eyeliner I suspect glows in the dark. Purple lips today.

“You coming in?” I ask.

She steps inside. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Won a football game, you know, the usual.” I shut the door behind her, but she doesn’t head for the living room.

“So that’s why you’re smiling. You don’t smile much.”

“You’re one to talk.” As long as I’ve known Daphne, she’s never been a smiler. Even in fifth grade she had this look that made you wonder if she was plotting your death. She’s just not a peppy, upbeat kind of girl, and yet not emo or Goth either. She wears way too many bright colors. Daphne is just…Daphne.

She smirks, but before she says anything the doorbell rings again. I open it, and Trent comes waltzing in. He gives a wave and continues forward, staring at his sketchbook like it’s a complex math problem.

“As I was about to say, I do too smile, just not at poseurs who don’t deserve it,” Daphne says.

I laugh. “Whatever. You’re smiling now, so you must have had a good day, too.”

She nods. “Scheduled my black belt exam for December and kicked ass in practice.”

“Awesome.”

She looks down. “Yeah, I thought it might be cool if you—”