Waiting on the Sidelines (Waiting on the Sidelines #1)(50)

When Reed pulled up to my house, I was both excited and disappointed to see my good old friend the Oldsmobile sitting in the carport. My dad walked out to greet us and flinched for a second when he may have caught a glimpse of us holding hands.

“Hey, sweetie. Buck’s guys dropped this off earlier. Boy, she purrs like a dream now. They really did a number,” he said, flipping the hood up and urging me to take a look. Like I have any idea what I’m looking at. Reed put his hand on my back as we all looked at the engine and listened to my dad go on and on. I loved the thrill of feeling his touch. But I also didn’t want to have this conversation with my father. Not tonight, anyhow.

Reed’s phone rang, and he stepped back for a second to talk. I heard him asking what time and saying he could get there in 30 minutes. Finally, he was back at my side.

“Hey, it’s coach. He has some meeting lined up, something with a scout. My dad’s meeting me there. I’m sorry, I gotta go,” he said, honestly looking disappointed.

“It’s ok, go! I’ve got a car to test drive,” I winked at him.

“Oh no, just try not to drive like a ‘woman,’” he said, air quoting. I kicked dirt at him a bit and gave him a playful shove. When my dad wasn’t looking, he leaned down and kissed my cheek before flipping his keys in his hand and heading to his Jeep.

My father saw him leaving and yelled after him. “Reed, son. Please give my thanks to your dad, ok? Really, this was an awful nice gesture.”

“You bet, Mr. Len… Rich!” Reed yelled back, pointing his finger in the air when he remembered by dad’s request for the first-name basis.

I turned to look over the engine some more with my dad and he put his arm around me. “That’s a good kid,” he said, sort of insinuating that I had his approval, but without actually having the conversation.

“Yeah, he’s one of the good ones,” I reaffirmed.

“So, you wanna take this puppy for a spin,” my dad smiled at me, closing the hood.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I said. “But I’m driving!”

My dad winced, still not too good at being my passenger, but he tossed me the keys and climbed into the car. I got in and turned the key to start it right up. The engine made a sound that had never been heard in our family before, and my dad and I both just looked at each other, our eyebrows raising. Then we both laughed. I backed out to turn around and we drove it all the way to the MicNic burger joint for milk shakes. We got an extra one for my mom and made our way home. A perfect day.





15. A Proper Date


Reed called me after his dinner meeting with the scout. He wasn’t supposed to say anything about it, but he spilled his guts anyway. I was honored to be so trusted. Reed was attracting attention from more schools than he had expected, though I wasn’t really surprised. His impromptu meeting was with the quarterback coach for Stanford. His grades were impressive and, to be honest, I don’t think Stanford fancied the idea of having Reed attend another school in their conference.

By the time Reed was a junior or senior in college, he could truly have grown into something spectacular. I wondered at the fact that I got to see him mature, see him in his beginning. I also allowed my mind to fantasize about a college world that included a Reed and me in it. I didn’t let myself dwell there long because I knew I was being na?ve, but a month ago I never would have thought I could say I knew what Reed’s lips felt like, and well, now I could.

Reed had insisted that we spend tonight celebrating his great meeting and going on our first real date. He was leaving work early to meet with his coach and throw some passes to some promising new receivers now that Devin and Cole were graduated, so I was going to drive my newly made-over Olds. Suddenly, this car that I had spent a lifetime loathing held a special place in my heart. The kind gesture and its connection to Reed played on my perspective. I think my dad was sort of regretting handing the keys over to me permanently now, too. He did a little joy riding on the desert roads last night and said something about ‘really opening her up on the open road.’

Reed said he didn’t want to waste his first real date with me on a typical dinner and a movie, so he had instructed me to pack clothes that were casual, comfortable and “very Nolan.” He also insisted I throw the Nikes in my bag. “Lots of walking,” he said.

I must have tried on 15 different combinations of clothes that just days ago all seemed fine. I finally settled on my hip-slung cut-off shorts, double tank tops and plain white socks with my tennies. I had a clip in my bag that I could use to keep my hair up and makeup was always minimal, though I was eager to look more adult lately.

I scarfed down a peanut butter sandwich with some milk, locked up the house and skipped to my car, tossing my bag in the back seat. The engine roared right up for me, a sound I was sure would make my smile beam for months, and I backed out onto our main road.

Driving alone on the stretch of desert highway was finally how I pictured it would be, before my first solo trip was cut short by my car’s former insides. I sang out loud all the way into town, rolling my window up as I pulled into the aquatics center, not wanting to draw the attention of the dozens of barely dressed teenagers that were parking around me. I knew I was a staff member and the same age as many of the girls that hung out at the center during the summer, but somehow I still felt inadequate. So many of them looked like, were built like and talked like Tatum. It was going to take me a while to stop trying to measure up to something that I still couldn’t believe Reed no longer wanted.