Beyond the Point(6)
I certify that I have read all terms and conditions included in this document . . .
When she looked up, she saw Mikey Termini, the short, balding reporter, in the front row rubbing the lens of his camera with a cloth. He’d written more stories about Dani’s basketball achievements over the years than she could count, and seeing her smile, he snapped a photo of her, checking the light in the room.
“So where’s it going to be, Dani?” he asked. “UConn? Georgia?”
“Ah, come on, Mike. You know I can’t tell you that for another . . .” Dani checked the clock on the gym wall. “Thirty seconds.”
The crowd laughed. Dani’s parents stood near the back of the gym, their smiles only dimly hiding what Dani knew was a growing sense of dread. They were nervous, understandably. Dominic was seated behind them, his legs crossed in a pretzel shape underneath him, reading a book, as if all this fanfare was beneath him. In the moments that remained between her past and her future, Dani replayed all the reasons she’d made this decision, and all she felt was confidence.
“Athletes, it’s time.”
The boys on either side of Dani quickly picked up their pens and scribbled on the page, exactly what everyone already knew they would write. Dan Williams had committed to play football at Auburn. His tie was blue and orange. Tyler Hillenbrand had signed to play for Miami of Ohio—though Dani wondered if he’d ever see the inside of a classroom. The other two, both runners, had pledged to go the distance at Ohio State. Dani waited for the hubbub with the boys to pass. Then she leaned over, pen in hand, and carefully filled in the blank.
She paused before the waiting crowd. Mikey Termini snapped a photo, sending a flash of light throughout the quiet gymnasium. Then Dani picked up the contract and read the final line.
“‘This is to certify my decision to enroll at the United States Military Academy at West Point.’”
A gasp emanated from the crowd, followed by a roar of applause and a whistle from her father—the tallest man in the room, forefinger and thumb in the shape of a circle under his black mustache. Dani smiled, the freckles on her face nearly jumping with excitement. Classmates shook her hand. A line of adults formed around her to ask questions and offer hugs and well wishes. While the boys still had nine months before they headed to college, Dani had to report to West Point for Reception Day on June 29. As she scanned the room from right to left, she tried to etch the scene into her mind, so she could remember it forever.
If this was her destiny—if this was her fate—then so be it.
2
Winter 2000 // Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Snow fell from a charcoal sky, sticking to the ground and melting on the surface of a hot tub full of teenagers. Underneath the surface, legs and arms tangled, while above it, Avery Adams closed her eyes and swayed to the sounds of Third Eye Blind coming over the radio.
Wisps of platinum-blond hair curled at her neck, which was encircled by the black strings of her bikini top. The warmth of alcohol inched toward her cheeks and the smell of chlorine seeped into her skin, while inside Kevin’s house, the party grew louder. Though she could have stayed here forever, eyes closed, muscles relaxing in the Jacuzzi, Avery knew she needed to get out before the steam and alcohol went from her cheeks to her head. She was an experienced enough drinker to know when she’d hit her limit.
As she stood, Avery’s body emerged from the heat into the cold, drawing the eyes of every high school boy at the party. Toned shoulders, slender stomach, muscular legs—she had the body of an athlete, hewn from years sprinting up and down basketball courts, encouraged by the voice of her coach on the sidelines, shouting: “Faster, Avery! GO!”
She shivered, quickly realizing the difference in temperature between water and air.
“Hey, hand me one of those,” she ordered.
A football player named Marcus Jones reached over the side of the hot tub and grabbed a folded towel from a plastic chair. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he passed it over.
“Inside,” Avery explained, then shook her cup. “Time for a refill.”
“Here,” he said, reaching for her cup. “I’ll get it for you. Stay.”
“I can take care of myself.” Avery stepped over the edge of the hot tub. Her mother always told her never to take a drink that someone else poured; it was one of the few rules Avery actually followed. “Plus, I wouldn’t want your pruney hands all over my cup, anyway.”
“These?” he said, raising his palms out of the water—they were large, wide-receiver hands, dark on top and pink on the undersides. “You and I both know what these hands can do.”
The rest of the guys in the hot tub laughed, while the girls seemed to share a collective sigh of relief that Avery was leaving. Her presence attracted attention from the boys that they hated to share, Avery knew. But she was used to both responses—the attraction and the jealousy. She wavered, sometimes relishing her role as queen bee, and sometimes trying to shrug it off her shoulders, a weight she’d never intended to carry in the first place.
Ignoring Marcus, Avery wrapped herself in the towel and weaved her way through the warm house, between people dancing. A crowd encircled the dining room table, watching a group of guys who were in the middle of a game of flip-cup.
“Go! Go! Chug!”