Waiting on the Sidelines (36 page)

“Maybe we can wait a few more minutes,” Sarah said, trying to let me down easily.

I just shrugged and stood. “It doesn’t matter how long we wait and you know it,” I felt defeated. “He’s not coming. He’s fucking not coming!”

I stood up and stuffed my hands in the front of my sweatshirt pockets, looking down at my feet. I was so mad at myself for letting this happen. I was putting off the hurt and I was enabling him to take his frustration out on me. “I can’t do this, guys. I can’t do this,” I was shaking my head, looking at both of them.

“I know,” Sienna said, coming up to me to give me a hug. Sarah sat still behind her.

“You know he’s at the desert party,” I did know. Where else would he be. He wouldn’t go home. He’d go somewhere to lose himself or sit in silence amid a crowd and throw himself a pity party.

“Come on,” Sarah said, pulling on my sweatshirt and grabbing her purse.

“Where are we going?” I asked, a little worried at her idea.

“We’re leaving. Sienna, can you tell Ms. H that I got sick and Nolan had to take me home?” Sienna nodded at her, knowingly.

“We can’t just leave, we’re in charge…” Sarah interrupted me.

“Yes we can, and yes we are. We’re going to go tell Reed to stop treating you like shit. Are you in? Or do I need to do it by myself? Because I’m going to do it no matter what,” she was unstoppable at this point.

I looked at Sienna for guidance and she just smiled. “Go, this is what Sarah is best at,” she was referring to our conversation earlier. “You can’t put this off; you’re going to have to confront him eventually. You might as well go while you’re packing a secret weapon,” she motioned to Sarah.

She was right. They both were. I was terrified. It was all going to be over tonight, and in my heart I knew it. I guess I had been putting it off because I didn’t want it to end, but the last few months had been so miserable, it wasn’t really worth the heartache any more.

Sarah and I snuck out the door as Sienna locked up and we headed to her car. The drive through the desert was quiet and determined. As we got closer to the campgrounds, Sarah started to talk. “Nolan, you deserve better than this. I know I’m not a great model for relationships. I have a new boyfriend every week. But you’re better than that. You and Reed aren’t supposed to be like this… this is poisonous, and I won’t let him destroy you,” she reached over and grabbed my hand. She was right and I was so thankful to have her and Sienna at my side.

We pulled in and shut the lights off. I took a deep breath and gathered my inner strength before getting out of the car, glad I had worn my comfortable jeans and sweatshirt since it was freezing outside.

There were pods of people drinking on car hoods and in pickup beds everywhere. There was a new crowd added in, the new junior class and some underclassmen that wanted to get in with the ‘cool crowd.’ The thumping of the music was distracting, and there weren’t many lights, so it was hard to see in the distance. Finally, Sarah recognized Calley’s car and motioned for me to follow her.

Calley’s car?
My blood pressure was shooting up now and I was getting stronger with every step we took.
We pushed past a small fire pit and found a few people sitting on a grouping of picnic tables. I recognized the silhouette of his back in the firelight and stopped in my tracks. Sarah was still looking around and hadn’t noticed yet. He was sitting there with a beer in his hand and talking…to Calley. He could talk to her.

As if I was possessed by someone far stronger than myself, I stormed up to his table and flipped the hat he was wearing backwards off his head. That fucking hat, I always thought it was so adorable. I wanted to shove it down his throat right now.

“What the fuck,” Reed said, turning to see who had done that to him. “Nolan? What are you doing here?”

Seriously? What was I doing here? I was about to unleash. I felt Sarah move behind me, catching up to me when she heard Reed’s voice. She started, but I put my hand back, letting her know I was good. I had this. I wasn’t going to be his whipping post any more. I loved this boy, the real one that I knew was still down there, but he needed to hear the raw truth. I was hurting, so I was prepared to serve it to him, unfiltered.

With a calm voice, almost scaring myself, I began laughing a little. “I know, right?” I giggled, mockingly. “Like, what would I be doing here…with my boyfriend.”

I was serious now. “So, were you going to just let me know you weren’t coming… maybe with a phone call tomorrow? You know, so I could just wait around and worry tonight. Or were you planning on not calling me at all? Maybe this is how you handle things, like the child you are. You just figured you’d ignore me until I got the hint and went away. Well, I got the hint, Reed. Ohhh, I get it.”

My heartbeat was pumping through my ears now and my lips were quivering with anger. Reed just tossed his empty beer bottle into the bushes and slid down from the table. “Nolan, let’s not do this now. Can we just talk tomorrow?” he was annoyed with my words, I was forcing him into a corner, and I wasn’t going to stop.

“No, Reed. We can talk now. Funny, I see you don’t have a problem talking to Calley,” Reed’s eyes shot to mine with a warning. It was too late, I was gone and there wasn’t any way to stop the flow of venom I was about to let out. “You planning on making yourself feel better by sleeping with her again?”

Calley’s eyes shot to mine and then to Sarah’s, her mouth wide open with shock. She was getting up and shaking her head, trying to explain herself, but it was too late. “No, don’t bother Calley. Reed told me about the little fling you two had. You know, while you knew I was in love with him. You and Tatum are perfect roommates, you know?”

I was so on fire I didn’t notice Sarah behind me, shaking her head and growing angrier. But when she opened her mouth, I was suddenly reminded she was there. “How could you!” she shoved her sister to the ground, kicking dirt at her. “You bitch! You’re my sister! How could you do that to my best friend?!”

Tears were pouring down Sarah’s cheeks now and Reed and I were stuck in our bubble, just staring at each other. He was blank still, unfeeling. And that’s when I knew I couldn’t crack him. He was too far gone.

“You know what the kicker is?” I said, laughing a little to myself and shaking my head. “I got my acceptance letter to Stanford today. I was actually thinking about how we would maybe both go off to college together. God, I’m a fucking idiot!”

Reed was just shaking his head, indifferent to me. And then he locked his eyes right on mine. “Whatever. Like it matters, I mean…it’s not like you could even afford it,” he sounded superior. Smug. And his words cut through all of my bravado like a knife. Never had Reed made me feel less. He had never commented on where I lived, what my parents did or the fact that I came from something so very humble. He knew how sensitive that was for me, and yet here he was…exploiting it.

I froze and everything drained from me. Reed stood staring right back at me, locked together. He had put something out there that he couldn’t take back. For a brief moment, he seemed like he wanted to, too, but then he just straightened his posture and tightened the line of his mouth. I had nothing left to say. That was it, and I knew we were done. Reed was too far gone in his own breakdown to realize he had just killed me, killed us with his words.

Turning to Sarah, I cleared my throat a little. “Please take me home.”

She just nodded and put her hand on my back, leading me out of the wake of our damage. The thumping of the music was still going, but the crowd was quiet. I could hear Calley crying, but I didn’t care. I was sad that Sarah had to find out this way, but I had to leave everything I had on the table.

Sarah drove me to her house and we locked her bedroom door and curled up together in her bed. I was too stunned to cry, and she was too angry about her sister to talk. We just stared off into space, her hand squeezing mine. She was my strong friend, and tonight had made her weak. I hated that she got hurt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I whispered.

“Shhhhh, it’s ok. This isn’t your fault, Nolan. None of it is,” she was flat, but I knew she was with me. She had my back, and she always would.

Sarah and I finally fell asleep in the early morning hours. I woke up at 10 and nudged her after laying there for a little more than an hour, thinking. Thinking, it turned out, was not good for a broken heart.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but can you take me home?” I was quiet, a sharp contrast from the loudness of the night before.

“Sure, just let me hop in the shower real quick. I want to go out for a bit,” she grimaced. “I don’t want to be around while Calley’s here today.”

“I’m sorry,” I started, but she stopped me with her hand up.

“Again, not your fault. Don’t, ok?” she was genuine. I was grateful she didn’t blame me, but I still felt badly.

Sarah drove me home and then headed out to Chandler to spend the afternoon at the big mall in town. My parents were out for the afternoon and had left me a note on the counter. “Hope you had a good time, honey. There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. We’ll be home later this afternoon. Love you, mom”

I couldn’t eat now if someone held a gun to my head. I wasn’t sure when my appetite would come back. I flopped onto my bed in my room and tossed my bag of things to the floor. Deep breath after deep breath was helping me to clear my head. I had come to terms with the fact that this needed to happen. I knew it was inevitable, and I knew that it was coming the second Kyle missed that pass.

Kicking my shoes off, I slid from my bed onto the floor, bringing my knees up and tucking them under my chin. I stared at it for a few minutes before finally sliding the box out from under my bed. I didn’t have to open it; I knew everything that was in there. It was every letter, every card, every single thing that Reed had ever given me. There were pictures and stupid things that reminded me of him like the napkin from MicNic’s that he drew a heart on and hid in my purse for me to find after our date once.

There was also a packet of information on UofA and Stanford in there with my notes from the research I’d done. Reed was probably right; affording Stanford was a bit of a pipe dream. But I was still going to try if that’s where he had decided to go. Now, sitting here with my box of Reed in my lap, I felt ridiculous. I was redrawing my entire plan, just to be with him. And that wasn’t healthy either. I had wanted to go to ASU my entire life, and here I was ready to throw that all away just to follow a boy to college. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have broken up with me as soon as we got there for some cheerleader?

Who’s throwing the pity party now, I thought.

Suddenly, the box of mementos in my lap was the last thing I wanted in my house. It had to go. Standing, I pushed my shoes back on my feet and tucked the box under my arm and grabbed my keys and wallet from my duffle bag on the floor.

With purpose, I walked to my car and tossed the box in the passenger seat. Within minutes I was pulling up in Reed’s driveway. Buck’s big truck was nowhere to be found, but I saw what looked like Reed’s old Jeep parked off in the garage. It looked like it had been fixed. I was glad for that.
At least something was able to be fixed from this awful accident.

I grabbed the box and jogged up to Reed’s front door and rang the door bell. It was one of those long-ringing bells, playing its song forever. Everything about his house suddenly seemed so pretentious. I was about to give up when the door clicked open and Reed was standing in the doorway, his body leaning against the wall a little. His face was still flat, which was going to make this easier.

“Here’s your shit,” I said, shoving the box in his hands and making sure his eyes saw right into mine. This was me, ending it. On my terms. Sure, it was childish to play the last word game, but nothing about the end of our relationship was mature. I might as well win at something.

I spun on my heels and headed back to my car, fighting every itch to turn over my shoulder to see his reaction. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. In fact, I didn’t even look in his direction when I climbed in my car and drove off, pulling a U-turn in front of his open doorway. I was pretty sure he was watching me leave, and I was glad.

Everything was going to hit me eventually, but for today I was going to be strong. I owed that to myself. And I was. Tomorrow, that’s when I could cry.

The entire town seemed to be operating under an umbrella. Sure, there was still one more game to play. But it didn’t matter. Not really. We were knocked out of the state tournament. And this was our last Johnson, so the odds of Coolidge making the spotlight again in the near future were slim.

I ran into Buck at the grocery store the morning after the big loss, and, positive as ever, he was hopeful. He told me Reed was set to get his cast off, and he was anxious to give the scouts one more look at his arm before signing season began. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and I felt a little better knowing Reed had his father in his corner.

I thought perhaps just getting to play once would lift Reed’s spirits. But his unhappiness ran much deeper. When he was up, things still seemed possible; when he was down, though…well, I guess that wasn’t really my problem anymore. Except I knew that wasn’t true either. I’d never stop worrying about Reed. I was pretty sure I’d move on to college and spend my four years following him in newspaper clippings and daydreaming about how he was, hoping he was ok and hoping he was learning to be happy again.

I spent the entire Saturday holed up in my room, cleaning out my closet and listening to music. I pulled out a few of my favorite classic books, trying to get myself lost in the high-brow torture of the Bronte sisters, but I never made it further than a few pages. I wasn’t going to homecoming. Not alone. And I knew Reed wasn’t coming to get me. A small part of me was hoping he would ride in like a knight and shining armor and beg me to go with him, but when the clock ticked to 7, then 8 and finally 9, I quit that fantasy, too.

My mom was a little surprised that I wasn’t getting ready for homecoming, and I eluded that Reed and I had a bit of a fight. She tried to pry a little, but I told her I wasn’t ready to be upset about it yet, and she let it go. I knew she was worried, though, because she made excuses to check on me every hour or so throughout the night.

No matter how big of a jackass Reed was being, I still wanted my parents to love him. Such a dichotomy from how his mother felt about me. She didn’t even acknowledge me when I was around. Again, though, not my problem anymore…except it ate away at me every moment I was awake.

Sarah texted me from the homecoming dance, wanting to check on me. She was also telling me what I really wanted to know, needed to know—that Reed wasn’t at the dance either.

Weekends were easy, it was when I was at school, in the same room, building, campus as Reed, that things were hard. I was waiting for it to get easier, waiting for something to happen. Waiting to forget the last words Reed had spoken to me. I wanted confrontation, but I suppose that had come and gone. All I had now was, well, the now.

I couldn’t help myself, but I stole glances at Reed when he walked through the halls, looking for hints at his mood, all the while waiting for him to snap out of this spell he was under and remember he loved me, to pursue me, to chase me and claim me again. That never happened, though.

Most of the time he was quiet, just floating from one class to the next, sitting and watching the lessons, not really participating. I had worried that his grades were slipping, but Sean told me he was still managing to ace everything and that he still had UofA and Stanford pursuing him.
At least something was going right.

Reed’s birthday had come and gone. There was no party this year, though Sean told me that Buck had tried to talk Reed into the annual barbecue. The UofA and Stanford hats I had bought him still lived on the top shelf in my closet, tucked away in a bag, waiting to be shaken out and delivered. But that wasn’t going to happen.

I noticed that his Jeep was showing up in the parking lot at school again, and I was glad to see it fixed and in working order. It was a part of him, and it was the way I liked to remember him. His dad had put special plates on the back, UofA ones. I mused at his not-so-subtle act, also wondering if that was any indication of Reed’s decision of where he would sign for next season.

The last Friday game was a week away. The school was set ablaze with the hype I’d grown accustomed to during the last four years. Streamers and banners were hung along the halls. Cheerleaders were decorating the football player’s lockers, many paying special attention to Reed’s. I thought about how I probably would have been the one to do that a month ago. But instead, I hadn’t spoken to Reed since the day I showed up at his door with his letters and my memories.

He hadn’t texted. He hadn’t asked Sienna or Sarah about me. And he and Sean talked about football and nothing else. It was like the last three and a half years had all been a figment of my imagination, that we were nothing more than mere acquaintances. Less than, in fact, as even an acquaintance would make eye contact with me on accident once or twice.

I spent most of my nights working on my memoir project. It turned out I loved my creative writing class. And after a few phone interviews and inquiries with the special education program at ASU, I found out I could specialize in reading and writing disabilities. For the first time in weeks, my mind was excited about something, and I even found I could forget about the hole in my heart every now and then.

It was my turn to present in class today, and a strange part of me was eager to share something so personal. I had spent weeks working on my piece and had even shown it to our teacher, Mr. Bosch, in advance. He encouraged me to submit it for a scholarship award, so after perfecting it (with his brutal editing), I did. If I won, I would be able to pay for my room and board at ASU, which would be a blessing because as it stood now I was looking at driving two hours each day through the desert. I had earned a full scholarship for my tuition, but that was only half the battle.

I sat in the back of the class with my notebook bouncing nervously on my knee. Reed’s desk was empty, and while I was worried because he never missed class I was also relieved. I wasn’t sure I could stand in front of the class with his eyes on me.

We were nearing the end of our hour when I was finally called up front.

“Miss Lennox,” Mr. Bosch called.

I walked up slowly, opening my notebook and taking a deep breath to clear my nerves. Public speaking was not my forte. I cleared my throat a little and slid to sit on the stool at the front of the room, thankful I could at least not worry about my knees locking. When the classroom door flew open, I jerked back a little and immediately flushed when I saw Reed walking to his desk, right at the front of the class, directly in front of me.

I swallowed, still looking down at my notebook, my hands fidgeting with the ringed binder. My nerves kicked into overdrive when I looked up again and saw Reed was smiling a little at the students next to him, his cast no longer on his arm.

“OK, class. Settle down. Mr. Johnson, glad you could join us,” Mr. Bosch snarked.

“Sorry…had a doctor’s appointment,” Reed stood, pulling a pink slip from his pocket and handing it over.

“Yes, I figured as much. Nice to see your appendage is back to working order,” even Mr. Bosch almost sounded excited, and I was pretty sure he hated football.

Reed sat back down and shuffled his feet a little, grabbing at the front of his desk and then settling his eyes right on mine. His brightness flattened a little and he bit his lip, embarrassed as he realized he had interrupted me. Heat rushed over my body and I forgot my entire purpose for standing up here. I was startled by Mr. Bosch’s throat clearing and shook my head a little trying to find my way back.

“Uh, yeah… sorry, where was I?” my voice cracked a little. I snuck a look back at Reed and he was grinning at me, encouragingly. He hadn’t smiled in weeks, and certainly not at me.

“Your reading, Miss Lennox?” Mr. Bosch said, leaning back against the wall near the classroom door.

“Oh, yes. OK,” I cleared my throat again. It was only two pages, but I wasn’t sure I could do this. I was sweating standing up in front of the classroom.

Deep breath…

My grandmother believed in angels. Not the traditional kind. Her angels didn’t have wings, they weren’t ghostlike and they didn’t live in the sky. No. Her angels lived among us. She always said my mother was one. She said it was the way she looked after her family. Mom held us together when grandpa died, when grandma couldn’t pay her mortgage and when my brother broke his arm and we didn’t have insurance and had to drive hours away to find a doctor that would set his arm for what mom referred to as ‘the generic price.’

Unflappable. Undeterred. Indestructible. Unwavering. All good words, but those are still human. An angel, though…well, an angel is something more. An angel knows your heart. And they know how to fix it when it’s broken.

I paused ever-so-slightly, taking in a breath and willing my eyes to stay on my paper. I wouldn’t look up at Reed, but I knew these words were hitting him. They had to. They were hitting everyone.

I have an angel of my own. She’s 10, and her name is Nancy. I met Nancy two years ago, and she gave my life purpose by giving it direction. Nancy has Down syndrome, and she’s fearful of many things. Mostly, she’s afraid of being alone. Turns out, so am I.

Our first summer together, we conquered Nancy’s fear of water. Amazingly, she’s part of a swim team now and hopes to swim in the Special Olympics some day. As pen pals, we conquered her bullies. Young people can be cruel, and when they see someone with Down syndrome they also see an easy target. Bullies like to find where you’re vulnerable, avoiding the challenge and instead going for the easy kill. For me, it’s always been my family’s small bank account or the fact that I don’t like to wear a dress.

I looked up now, noticing Reed was listening intently, his eyes focused on the edge of his desk, his knuckles white as his hands gripped hard and his feet shuffled with discomfort. I continued.

Together, though, Nancy and I discovered that you can strip a bully of their power without even confronting them. All you need to find is your passion—something to love. For Nancy, it was swimming. For me, it was a boy.

And so this is where my angel comes into the story. What do you do when your passion breaks and your heart is broken along with it?

The boy I had been holding onto was suddenly gone. Not physically, but emotionally. I was lost. I’d been lost for a while. And I found myself on the road, driving to see Nancy. With her mom’s OK, I picked her up from school, and together we went for ice cream. Without much preparation, my angel went to work.

“You look sad,” she said.

“I am,” I was always honest with Nancy.

Then Nancy put her small hand on the center of my chest and closed her eyes. Her act made me a laugh a little, prompting me finally to ask: “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m taking your sad away and making it mine,” she was serious, and I wouldn’t dare laugh at this. “You can have my happy for a while until I get this figured out for you and give you your heart back.”

Hugging Nancy, I cried and realized that, up until now, I hadn’t done that yet. I had been holding my tears in, afraid to let them go. But now, as I did, I realized that maybe Nancy, my angel, had been my passion all along. And helping her, and kids like her, was what made me better than those who tore me down.

Nancy
had suddenly made me strong when I felt weak. She took away my alone. My heart? That’s healing, too. And loving someone isn’t what makes me special, it’s my ability to love…period…that sets me apart. At least, that’s what my angel told me.

The bell started ringing just as I finished, but the entire class sat still. Uncomfortable, I just closed my notebook and slid from the stool and found my way back to my desk, my eyes looking down at my feet.

Saving me from the discomfort of this awkward attention, Mr. Bosch started to talk, explaining our next assignment and dismissing the class. I finally breathed with relief when people started shuffling their backpacks and leaving the room. Reed was the first to go.

Sienna leaned over as she was packing her bag and I noticed her eyes were glossy and red. “Holy crap, Nolan,” she whispered. “That was good. Like…really good!”

I smiled humbly. I wasn’t good at taking compliments. “Thanks,” I said. “It felt good to write. I just sort of wish Reed wasn’t here to hear it. I think…I think I made him really mad.”

Sienna just shrugged it off. But he left the room quickly, and everyone knew who the boy was in my story. I was pretty sure that I’d just fired a warning shot, however unintentionally, yet I had no want for war. All I could hope for was that the truth in my writing would be enough to win over the scholarship judges now. At least my heartache could earn me that.

Reed ended up playing in the final game of the season, and as I predicted (and had promised him) he was just as good as he’d always been. Maybe even better. He threw for 350 yards with four touchdowns, and that was only in a half. It was certainly enough to keep several colleges interested, and Buck was back in business managing his favorite client.