On the Fence

Page 17

I tried to calm down by drawing a deep breath.
“Why are you so mad?” I wasn’t a fan of the fact that he could read me so well in that moment.
“Because you just took one of my favorite things away from me.”
“I haven’t taken anything away from you.”
My chest was tight and I had an overwhelming desire to punch him. “I can’t play tomorrow. I’ll have to sit on the sidelines, cheering you on.”
“Why would you have to do that? You’re an awesome football player.”
“Because, Braden, Evan will be there.”
He put on a rare angry face. “If you can’t be yourself around him, then you shouldn’t be dating him.”
I laughed a low mocking laugh. “Oh, yeah, be myself. Tackle guys, fall in the mud, score touchdowns, that’s real appealing to guys.”
“It is to some guys.”
“Really, Braden? Who? Tell me! Because I’ve been playing sports with the same ten guys for the last five years of my life and never has one of them hit on me, let alone asked me out. Not one! Do you think any of them see me as someone they would date? Of course they don’t. They see me as—let me see, what were the terms you guys used at disc golf the other day? Oh, that’s right—a big, burly girl. If they want someone to date, they go to the mall or the club and find a girl who wears tight clothes and does her nails and giggles at their jokes.
“I see the way guys look at Amber. I saw the way you looked at Amber. Guys don’t want a competitor, they want a cheerleader. So excuse me if I feel like I have to compromise a little of who I am to make a guy”—I pointed up the road—“a cute, nice guy, actually look at me like I’m not his teammate.” My eyes stung with anger.
Braden took a step back this time. Then he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. “You are so clueless. I don’t believe you, the most stubborn girl in the world, would be willing to do that for a guy who’s not even worth the time or effort. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. Your brothers are going to die.”
The tension in my chest had built to beyond bearable. I needed to run or this tension would keep me up all night. That or push him to the ground, which actually sounded fun in that moment. “He’s worth my time and effort. Good night, Braden,” I said, then I ran. Jeans were not fun to run in, but the breathable jersey and the sneakers I always wore made up for it.
I knew Braden had followed me. It was the middle of the night, after all, and he knew my dad would kill him if he let me go alone. I could hear him keeping pace about twenty feet behind me. I hoped he was dying in his jeans and polo shirt. I hoped his Chucks were making the arches of his feet hurt.
The big hill marked the beginning of mile three, and I glanced over my shoulder to see how Braden was holding up. He had slipped another five feet behind. I knew I could lose him over this hill if I wanted to. I could power up the hill and take a different route. But I didn’t. By this time my adrenaline had kicked in, easing my tension and making it hard to stay angry. So I slowed down a bit and let him stay within twenty feet, taking a shortcut through the park to make my normally seven-mile run closer to five.
When we got home, Braden, sweat ringing his collar and underarms, just walked into his house without saying a word.
Chapter 25
“You don’t have to do this,” I said to Evan the next morning as we walked from my house to the park, holding hands. “You know what it is, right?”
“I’m proving myself to your brothers or something weird like that?”
“Yeah.”
“What about to you? Do I have to prove myself to you?” He smiled and my heart gave a little jump.
“No. Not at all.”
Evan had dressed the part this morning—a tee and some breakaway sweats, the snaps by his ankles undone—and I was happy for it. He looked good. He even had on a nice pair of athletic shoes. They were a little too clean, but Braden couldn’t possibly complain about them.
“Then I’m fine. I’ll just have fun. I may be scrawny, but I enjoy football.”
“A lot of the guys are your size. My brothers are just giants.”
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Sorry.”
“So I thought Amber was coming too.”
“When I texted you guys to just meet at the house, she said she was running late and would meet us at the park.”
“Great. I thought another new face would deflect some of the attention off me.”
Well, the guys have never seen me in makeup, a fitted shirt, or skinny jeans, so that will probably do the trick, I wanted to say.
I squeezed his hand. “You’ll do fine.”
Most of the guys were already there setting up cones and throwing the ball around. I got a few odd glances that started on my face and outfit then lingered on Evan’s and my clasped hands.
“I take it you don’t bring a lot of boys home,” Evan whispered.
I just laughed.
My brothers walked over, shoulder to shoulder, and I felt Evan tense beside me. Gage was the only one with a smile on his face. I wanted to scream in frustration. It was obvious to me now I should’ve done this more so they didn’t act like defensive linemen, ready to take down the quarterback. Seriously, this wasn’t my life right now.
“Hey, guys,” I said. “Don’t be idiots. This is Evan. Evan, the angry-looking one is Jerom, the constipated-looking one is Nathan, and the goofball on the right is Gage.”
Gage laughed. “Constipated, Nathan? We said to look fierce.” All three of them laughed now, and I relaxed when I realized they were just joking around.
“Good to meet you, Evan,” Jerom said, shoving his hand forward.
Evan shook it. I looked around for Braden and saw him on the far side of the field, passing the ball to George. So he was still pouting. I should’ve been the one ticked at him, not the other way around. He was the one who’d called me not only stubborn but clueless.
“All right,” Jerom said, clapping once. “Let’s split up into teams. Me and Gage on one side, Nathan and Braden on the other.” All four of them played on different teams or the other guys complained. Not just because they were the biggest and the best, but because they all knew each other and could read each other so well that it made an unfair advantage. “Everyone else, pick a side, divide evenly.”
“Whose team should I be on?” Evan asked me.
“Jerom and Gage,” I said, because I felt like Gage would involve him the most, try the hardest to make him feel welcome. He stepped over to the circle forming around them, and I eased off to the sidelines, waiting for my brothers to realize I wasn’t playing.
Gage noticed first and gave me his “What’s the deal?” face. I just smiled. Braden shook his head, as if he still didn’t believe I wasn’t going to participate and now seeing it actually happening made him sick. Finally, Jerom looked over.
“Pick a side, Charlie,” he called.
I was saved when a bubbly voice called, “I’m here.”
Every head turned to look at Amber. Gage nearly tripped over his own feet. She wore some jeans with flip-flops and a tight black tank top that had sparkly words I couldn’t make out written across her chest. It seemed every guy on the field was trying to make out those words too. Her hair was wavy and flowed down around her shoulders.
“Hi, Braden,” she called. Now every head turned toward Braden. He blushed a little and then waved.
She had a foldable camping chair flung over one shoulder, and she took it out of its carrying case and set it up next to me. “If I had known you didn’t have a chair, I would’ve brought one for you, too.”
“I’m good.”
“Do you watch them play a lot?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you just sit on the ground?”
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I say that I usually played with them? Because I felt like if I told her that, maybe it would change her opinion of me. I’d be the weird one. The one who played tackle football with guys.
“Are we going to play, or what?” Jerom asked. And with those words, the game started. If I thought they were going to go easy on Evan at all, I was mistaken. Jerom, in his attempts to throw the ball to Evan, pelted him in the chest, the side of the head, and the middle of the back. He was able to catch a few, and that’s when Braden would tackle him harder than I’d seen him tackle anyone before. I was itching to play now, so I could get back at them.
Amber hummed beside me. “Geez, Charlie, you didn’t tell me your brothers were as pretty as you are.”
“What?”
“Your brothers. They’re very model-esque, with their gray eyes and high cheekbones. They’re beautiful.”
“Um . . . Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“I should’ve guessed with them being related to you and all that they’d be striking.”
I growled, watching the game. I should’ve told Evan to be on Braden’s team so Braden wouldn’t have the opportunity to tackle him like that. “Hold on a minute,” I said to Amber, and stood up from where I had been sitting cross-legged on the grass. After the play was over, I marched up to Braden and, not wanting to embarrass Evan, I said in a quiet voice, “Why are you treating a pickup game like the Super Bowl? Unless you want to get some helmets and pads, lay off, Bruiser. If you tackle him like that one more time, we’re leaving.”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but the muscle in his jaw was clenched as tight as could be.
“Why are you so mad at me? What is your problem?” I asked.
“You want to know what my problem is?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
I hesitated now, realizing where we were, but he didn’t stop. He took me by the shoulders and turned me around to face the guys, who were now all staring at us. “By a show of hands,” Braden said loudly, “who here would’ve asked Charlie out in the last six months had they not been given the ‘We will kill you if you look at Charlie’ speech by the three lugs over there when she turned sixteen?”
My first instinct was to yank away from Braden’s grip and never talk to him again. Ever. But the small thread of curiosity weaving through me seemed to have stitched me to the grass, because I couldn’t move.
A few of the guys shifted nervously and glanced at Jerom. Just when I started to feel extremely embarrassed that no one had moved, Tyler raised his hand. His bravery seemed to spur the others forward, because at least half a dozen of them put their hands up. Gage, thinking he was hilarious, had even raised his hand. Braden, I noticed, had both hands still firmly grasping my shoulders.
“Which is exactly why we gave the speech,” Jerom said darkly.
“You don’t have to change for a guy,” Braden said quietly in my ear.
If he thought in some way I’d be touched by this public humiliation, he was wrong. “Thanks, Oprah, I’ll try to remember that.” I looked at Evan. “You ready to go?”
He nodded, rubbing his neck.
Chapter 26
I waved good-bye to Amber, and she didn’t seem at all upset about me abandoning her. I gave Evan a once-over as we walked home. He had a red mark on the side of his neck and one on his bicep—probably from being pelted with the football. A long scratch ran across the back of his hand. Football wasn’t a bruise-free kind of sport, but he looked more beaten-up than normal after a pickup game.
“We have a hot tub,” I said. “That might help.”
“Not sure I want your brothers coming home and finding me in a hot tub with you. See, I didn’t get the ‘We will kill you’ speech, and I’m realizing why guys might steer clear of you if they had. They’re like a force, the four of them.”
“They are, aren’t they?” I sighed. “But they’ll be playing for a while longer, so come on. I’ll find you some swim shorts, get you a couple aspirin, and we’ll relax.”
“I’m only agreeing because this means I get to see you in a swimsuit.”
I blushed and nudged his shoulder with mine.
Up in my room, after finding him one of Gage’s suits and sending him to the bathroom to change, I pulled on my one-piece. He was going to be sorely disappointed. I only wore swimsuits for sport, so it was a pretty boring one.
We met in the hall in an awkward sort of “Do we hold hands on the way to the pool?” exchange that ended with his hand on my lower back. I tried not to stare at his defined chest and abs. So I kept my eyes straight ahead, even though I kind of wanted to see if he had any more welts from the game. No, I wouldn’t look; I was already angry enough at Braden.
I turned on the jets in the hot tub and we slid in.
“So . . . ,” Evan said after a few moments of silence. “Did I fail miserably?”
“No. You were fine. Really.”
“I’m not a huge football player. If it were baseball, I would’ve given a much better showing.” His hand found mine under the water and grabbed it, playing with my fingers.
“You don’t need to excuse yourself over a stupid pickup game. My brothers were going hard on you.”
“Your brothers were fine. . . . It was Braden who had a problem with me.”
“No. He doesn’t have a problem with you. We got in a fight last night. He was angry with me and taking it out on you.”
“Maybe. But it’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think he’s jealous.”