First & Then(54)

“So,” he said, as he began to push his cart down the aisle. I walked alongside. “Missed you at the party last week.”

“Yeah … yeah, I was busy.” I hurriedly shoved the adult diapers into an empty spot on a shelf as we passed and grabbed an economy-sized shampoo bottle instead. We turned onto the cleaning-supply aisle, and Jordan slowed in front of the fabric softener.

“How’s Foster?”

Inquiring after my family. Jordan had class that Jane would appreciate. “He’s all right.”

“Hope he wasn’t too down about the game.” He picked up a tub of softener and tossed it into the cart.

“Well … I think he felt like he could’ve done more, but I guess you always feel that way if you lose.”

“Yeah, that’s usually the case.”

We turned onto frozen foods. It was quiet as Jordan stared at a selection of microwavable snacks.

“Jordan?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t help but ask it. The Lake Falls game—and all its surrounding drama—was on my mind. “Do you think Lake Falls deserved to win?”

Jordan didn’t speak for a moment. Then he said, “Depends on how you mean it. Do you mean, do I think they deserved to win because of what happened to them? Or do I think they deserved to win because they’re a better team?”

“I don’t know. Both.”

He glanced over at me. “No, to the first. Yes, to the second.”

“They don’t have a very good record. You don’t … you don’t think Temple Sterling’s a better team?”

“Damn right I do. But it doesn’t matter what I think; it matters what happens on the field. And that night we sucked. So that night they were the better team.”

“But if they had put Ezra back in, you might’ve won.”

“It was a rough call. They pulled Ezra at the half because it looked bad.… There has to be some deference in that kind of a situation, you know? And if Lake Falls had scored six and we scored fifty-six, we’d look like a bunch of *s. But try telling Ezra in any situation—let alone that situation—not to score, and he’ll tell you to f*ck off, pardon my language.”

“But why didn’t they put him back in when Lake Falls started scoring?”

Jordan smiled wryly. “Because of the fit he threw. If any one of us acted that way, we’d be out for sure. They hold us all to the same standards, even the game-changer.”

This was the question that I really ached to ask: “But why did he act that way?”

“I won’t make excuses for him,” Jordan said after a pause. “I don’t know where his head was at. Well, maybe I do, a little, but it’s not my job to try to make it up to you.”

I stared into the freezer case. My own reflection stared back, and behind that, several brands of frozen pizza. “Make what up?”

“Come on now. I know about after the game.”

Busted. “Ezra told you?”

“Ezra hasn’t said much of anything to anybody since that night. But your cousin sang like a bird at practice.”

I gave a breath of laughter. Somehow that didn’t surprise me.

“He thought Foster missed that kick on purpose,” I said. “I know Foster would never do that.”

“I bet Ezra does, too.”

I didn’t speak.

“Hey, you know what?”

“What?”

“One of these days we’re going to sit down and have a nice conversation that has nothing to do with Ezra. We’ll talk about movies or politics or some shit like that, and lemme tell you, Champ, it will be delightful.”

I smiled.

“Come on, let’s check out.”

He put an arm around me, and we strolled to the checkout counter.





29


Homecoming week in Temple Sterling was much like you would imagine—a dash of small-town America (the Homecoming game) mixed with a good dose of the twenty-first century (cue the R-rated hip-hop music and X-rated hip-hop dance moves in the school gym).

We played the Homecoming game the afternoon of the dance. We typically played Priory High School, a long-standing rival. The varsity team beat Priory this year, as it had last year, and this set a nice tone for the rest of the evening. I know Foster was psyched about the whole thing. I wasn’t particularly psyched to be his chauffeur, but that was what my Homecoming evening had seemingly been reduced to.

I pulled my dress out of the closet that evening and laid it on my bed. I even took the ballet flats I had gotten (60 percent off!) out of the box and put them on the floor under the dress.

“You’re still coming, right?”

I turned. Foster stood in the doorway.

“I’ll take you and Gwin. But no … I don’t really feel like it.”

“Are you going to put on the dress to drive me and Gwin?”

“No.” I scooped it up, put it back in my closet, and shut the door definitively. “No, I’m not.”

“Come on.” Foster stepped into the room and sat down on the edge of my bed, picking up the ballet flats. “It’ll be fun. And it’s your last Homecoming. You don’t want to miss your last Homecoming, do you?”