Chapter 9

Western Michigan had an early frost on the night of Laketon High’s first home football game, against Century High. The excitement for the game swirled around the stadium like leaves in the wind. Nick rubbed his hands together, warming them. He liked the cooler nights the best. He saw the ball location clearly when unhampered by sweat dripping down his face. Before changing into his uniform, he took a couple of swigs from his water bottle fortified with some vodka.

As the team took the field and his eyes adjusted to the glare of the overhead lights, he wondered if his parents were able to leave Grandma and attend. They hadn’t missed any of his home games. Emily would be here, of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as having his father in attendance. And what of the Michigan scout? Coach hadn’t said anything about him being there.

The game buzzer sounded, and all Nick’s concentration went to the game, but strangely his legs slogged through icy water, slushy and hard to keep his balance.

“Nick!” Coach Sullivan called. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, trying to clear the ice from his brain. “Nothing.”

“You’re playing sloppy and unfocused.” Coach frowned. “You should have easily caught that ball. It was coming right to you.”

Nick nodded and tried again, only to be rushed and tackled. All the air knocked out of him, and he lay on the turf, looking skyward, the stars dimming in sympathy or winking conspiratorially.

“Take a rest,” Coach said with a flap of his clipboard. “Bryan! Need you now!”

Gary gave him a hand up and helped him over to the bench. He watched as Bryan took his place on the field. He locked eyes with his best friend, Gary, to judge his reaction. Gary, in turn, gave him his signature whistle-tweet and moved his hand to tell him it was okay.

When they headed to the locker room at halftime for hydration, a pep talk, and to catch their breath, he saw his parents and Emily with her gaggle of friends. She gave him a lopsided, sympathetic smile. They were behind by two touchdowns.

Nick’s father nodded. “You’ll do better next time,” he yelled.

“Sure,” Nick called back. He followed morosely behind his teammates. Why was he doing so badly? His heart wasn’t in the game. His concentration was taken by those visions running in his head.

****

When the game finished, Coach gave them his usual speech about losing.

“Losing is tough, but it’s part of the game. What we need to do, each of us, is to analyze what went well and what didn’t. We’ll do that as a team, but each man must decide for himself what it was he did or didn’t do.” Coach stared into Nick’s eyes while he shifted uncomfortably, before looking away and down at the floor.

“This wasn’t our best effort. You know it. I know it. What do we need to do to get back our winning attitude and drive?”

Bryan said, “Not everyone is concentrating.” Bryan turned to Nick.

Nick’s scalp bristled as eyes bore into the back of his head. Was it that obvious?

Gary muttered, “Suck-up!” Very few students challenged Gary because of his size, including Bryan.

“We all have outside influences that can’t be helped sometimes. It takes determination to concentrate on what we need to do, and that’s different for each man. See you all on Monday,” Coach said as his way of ending.

Nick and Gary changed from their uniforms into jeans and sweatshirts.

“I know what’ll make you feel better,” Gary said, whistle-tweeting and then crossing his eyes. Gary was good at cheering him up by making a funny face or imitating a cartoon duck. They bumped fists.

Nick didn’t think anything could cheer him up.

“Party at the beach,” Gary said.

A public access area on Lake Michigan.

Did Nick feel like partying? The decision swung between yes, no, hanging in the middle. Emily would probably like to. “Maybe,” he said.

“I know, man, tough loss”—Gary nudged him in the ribs—“but I got beer.” He winked at Nick, and Nick cracked a smile.

Partying at the beach was much better than brooding over the loss. “I’m sure Em will want to go.”

After showering and dressing, he found Emily waiting by the locker room, tapping her green-and-white sneakers adorned with sequins.

“Do you want to go to the party at the beach?” she asked, taking a moment to pull up her matching green-and-white polka-dotted sock.

“Sure.” Nick nodded. “We can swing by.” He took a couple of swallows from his water/vodka bottle, feeling the warmth start to make its way through his body.

****

Nick and Emily heard the voices and laughter and the crackle of a driftwood fire as they parked at Fishermen’s Beach. He lifted his nose to the odors of fish, sand, and smoke. Then another scent hit his nose—a smell from memory although he wasn’t personally acquainted with it. Rabbit stew with vegetables and broth accompanied a vision of another fire and a circle of multicolored wagons. Nick stopped in his tracks. Emily flashed him a smile, and he shook away the thought.

He was pretty sure Cat wouldn’t be at the lake, and he was glad.

The beach was a favorite spot for building fires, cooking hot dogs and s’mores, and making out or having sex.

They walked toward the sounds on the beach. The water stretched out, silvery and endless. A bonfire on the beach with friends, beer, and hot dogs might be what he needed.

“You don’t seem very happy tonight.” Emily grabbed his hand and hurried him toward the voices and the flames dancing off the water.

“I guess I’m not good company.” He paused, stopped, and kicked some sand. “That was a tough loss.”

“It was only the first home game.” Emily squeezed his hand.

“True.” His head hadn’t been in the game tonight.

It had been football, football, football for as long as he could remember. His father regaled him with tales of his playing days with the Lions. The passion for the game seemed to be deflating in him like a shriveled balloon, and he didn’t know why exactly.

“You’re right, only the first home game. Let’s go.” Nick squeezed Emily’s hand back. He swung their entwined arms up toward the water as they walked down the path, the moon and the anemic bulb from an overhead light illuminating the way.

When they got to the beach, their friends had already piled driftwood high, and the fire crackled, greedily clawing at the night sky. Someone was setting off fireworks, and the spiders of light glittered over the water before falling away to be swallowed in the darkness. He flinched at the pop of the fireworks—so much like the shot from a rifle. Again he pushed the image away.

“Emily! Nick!”

Nick heard Gary’s tweet-whistle as they joined their friends by the fire.

Nick raised a hand. “Hey!” He let out a loud sigh of relief to have left the game behind.

Gary was holding a can of beer and Tiffany a paper cup with something that smelled fruity.

“You need a drink?” Gary asked.

“Do I ever!” Nick said as he fished in his wallet for some money to help pay for the beer.

Gary pocketed the money and handed him a cold can from the cooler, and Nick took a long swallow before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“That game was the shits,” Gary said.

“You got that right.” Nick tipped the can to his lips just as he heard a collective gasp from those clustered around the bonfire. He turned to see what was happening. Veronica was leading Cat toward the circle.

“Does everyone know Cat?” Veronica asked.

A few nods and affirmations.

Oh crap. He didn’t want her here talking about reincarnation and Romas.

“Look who’s here.” Emily sidled up closer to Nick. She gave him a teasing grin.

“Yeah.” Nick was hoping to avoid Cat and tossed back the rest of his beer.

“Another?” Gary asked.

“Yeah.” He opened the blue can and took a long swallow. “Em?”

“No, thanks.” She gave her cup a slight shake. “I’ll stick to soda.”

“Hello, Nick,” Cat said, walking through the sand with some trouble on her heels. “Emily. Gary.” Cat nodded to each of them as she said their names.

A chorus of mumbled hellos returned.

Cat rubbed her arms and gave Nick a sweet smile. “Nice night for a fire.”

He hadn’t seen her smile like that before, and the parting of her lips softened her dark features and lit her topaz eyes. She was beautiful and a bit exotic in the glow of the fire. “Sure,” he agreed.

“Tough loss,” she added.

“You were there?” Emily asked.

Cat nodded.

Nick studied the contrast between the girls, Emily golden and light, and Cat dark and mysterious. He finished his beer.

Gary motioned toward Cat. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Cat said, taking the can and downing it in one gulp and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Damn, she drank that quick.

“Another?” Gary asked, whistle-tweeting his approval.

“Sure!” Cat matched them beer for beer, laughing when it took Nick two swallows to finish his.

“What?” Nick asked innocently. “I’m slow, so what!”

“You have to do it in one long swallow.”

Nick started to chug, when Emily tugged at his arm. “Nick! Slow down,” she urged.

Cat quirked her brow at Emily. “You want one?”

“No, thanks.” Emily looked down at her soda. “I don’t like beer.”

The girls stared at each other. Nick shifted uneasily until Emily grabbed his hand and led him away. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What is she doing here, Nick?” Emily whispered as she tugged at his arm.

“Hanging out like the rest of us.” He pulled his arm out of her grasp, annoyed. He had no idea why she was here.

“She’s here for you, isn’t she?”

“No! She came with Veronica.”

“She arrived with Veronica, but she’s here for you!” Emily whispered, her eyes glaring. “I saw how she smiled at you.”

“She’s a friend. My research partner.”

“Bullshit!” Emily said.

“You’re wrong!” Nick called as Emily stomped away and joined a circle of her friends.

Nick stood looking after her until Cat came over and patted his arm. “Everything okay?”

“I guess.” He let out a sigh.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

At that moment, Veronica took Cat by the arm, saying, “I want you to meet someone.”

Cat teetered sideways on her pointed heels and tripped toward the fire. Nick lunged and caught her, keeping her from tumbling into the flames.

She straightened and smiled up at him. “You saved me! My hero!” Cat patted his cheek. “I guess heels aren’t the best thing to wear to the beach.” Cat laughed before Veronica tugged at her arm.

Nick watched Cat’s swaying hips as she and Veronica struggled through the sand. Nick lowered his eyes and rejoined Gary, reaching for another can. “Em doing okay?” Gary asked.

“She’s upset Cat’s here.”

“Women!”

Gary didn’t know the half of it.

“Nick?” Emily asked, returning to his side. “What’s going on?”

“What?” He took a drink. “Nothing.”

“Four beers and we’ve only been here, like, ten minutes?”

Much longer than ten minutes. “Just want to relax after the game.” He gave a slight shrug. He glanced over to where Cat stood with Veronica and several others. Cat’s head was tipped back, her mouth open, laughing. Nick frowned, irritated his partner was laughing with another guy. Nick didn’t want Cat laughing with Reg.

Emily followed his gaze and folded her arms, then mockingly said, “My hero!”

“Come on, Em. She was just playing.”

“She’s not playing!”

“Just work partner. Besides, she’s talking to Reginald.”

“Really?” Emily said, giving him a pout. “Reg? Who cares.”

Gary sidled over. “Another?”

Nick moved the empty can. “Yeah.”

“Designated driver,” Gary said, poking Emily.

“No way,” she protested. “I’m not cleaning puke from my upholstery again.”

“Only one time,” Gary said, trying to put an arm around her, but she pushed him away.

“Once is too much!” She looked at Nick. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“A couple won’t hurt.” He took another beer. And besides, he drove.

“That better be it!” Emily said, stomping off to see her friends who were clustered together, whispering and gesturing in Cat’s direction.

Nick stood with Gary, who seemed oblivious to the stir Cat had caused at the party. “Damn, they grow those boys from Century big.”

“Yeah, their quarterback Benson ran like his butt was on fire.” Nick finished his beer, and the darkness brightened a bit.

“Another?” Gary asked again.

“Sure. Who got the beer?” Nick eyed the cooler set away from the fire. “I owe you.”

“My brother bought me a case. I don’t know about the rest.”

Nick opened the can and sucked at the foam bubbling over the edge. “I couldn’t seem to get my head in the game tonight.”

“First home game jitters,” Gary said.

Yeah, that was probably it. No, something else was bothering him, but he couldn’t name it.

Fitting four hot dogs on one stick, Gary eyed him. “What else is bugging you? That girl?” He motioned with his chin toward where Cat was standing next to Veronica, her eyes mesmerized by the flames.

“Nah! She’s just a little wacko!” Nick drank most of the beer in two long gulps. His head was clearer and more focused than before.

“Another?”

Nick glanced at Emily huddled together and laughing with her girlfriends. “I shouldn’t but…” Nick watched as she tipped her head back, laughing at something Tiffany said. “Sure.”

The beers went down easily, and after the fifth—or was it the sixth—he lost count.

“Hey! You okay?” Gary asked when Nick accidentally bumped him, swaying in place. “You should have something to eat. A dog?” Gary turned the stick roasting the hot dogs over the flames, making the skins bubble and turn black. He pulled the dogs off and slid them into buns.

“You might be right.” Nick accepted the hot dog and ate it quickly, burning his tongue in the process.

Kenny sidled over. “You guys want some of this?” He shook a silver flask toward them. Nick took a swallow, and the whiskey burned down his throat. He winced. “Gary?”

Gary gulped down a long swallow. “Whoo! That’s some shit!” he said, laughing and then tweet-whistling.

“You guys want to play some flag football?” Kenny asked.

Ugh, football was the last thing Nick wanted to do tonight. “Go to hell.” Nick fell over laughing, holding his stomach. But with the hot dog and beer sloshing around, the laughter turned to agony as they both burned their way up his throat and spilled onto the sand. He vomited until dry heaves contorted his body.

“Hey, man, what’s wrong?” Gary kept repeating.

Nick nodded his head but remained on the sand, holding his stomach. Damn, that hurt.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the honorable do-gooder, Reverend Dupont!” Bryan mocked.

Another person he didn’t want to see tonight.

“Em!” Bryan’s voice changed, dripping honey. “Do you need a ride home, sweetheart? Looks like the reverend is out of commission.”

Nick saw Emily’s sequined shoes, her legs wide in a defensive, fighting stance.

“I’m taking you home, Nick Dupont!” Emily was clearly mad, but he was deliriously drunk. “Give me your car keys!”

He struggled to follow her to where the car was parked. “Em! Who am I?” Nick tried to imitate Cat struggling through the sand in her heels.

Emily cracked a small grin. “Do you like that black lipstick?”

“A turn-on,” Nick said, jokingly.

“Really, Nick?” She laughed and swatted at his arm.

“Yeah, I think you need some pointy boots and black lipstick!” He imitated Cat’s lurching gait in the sand.

“You’re so bad, Nick!” She tried to keep a stern face but broke into a wide smile.

He kept imitating Cat until Emily was laughing so much she was crying. Things were right between them for the moment.