Kansas Summer

Another Invitation

All through the next week, I find school surprisingly more enjoyable. Jenna and I talk more between classes, and she even sits at my table for lunch. All of my friends have even stopped talking about me and Jenna negatively. Since we've been together for a little while (holding hands once or twice), word is getting around, and we've caught the eye of the school. Much to the chagrin of Alyse Bauer, everyone says that we are a perfect couple.

Despite what everyone says, I still hold to my dad's rule, remembering that I may only think that I love Jenna. I have told Jenna this on multiple occasions, and to my surprise, she understands my reasons for not making this a full blown relationship. For now, we are content with being best friends and sharing smiles and homework answers.

Every now and then, I spy Alyse glancing at me, but I have learned to ignore her. I can tell that she is jealous; sometimes I can see the green in her eyes. It upsets me a lot when she ignores all of the other guys who are trying to flirt with her, but focuses on me, even when I clearly am giving my attentions to another girl.

On Friday, there is Frisbee practice, and Jenna is there, cheering me on. Christian, Sid, and Elliott all complain that I have a girlfriend (though I repeatedly deny it) who cheers me on, but I have heard Jenna scream their names in praise a few times. Her encouragement pushes me to play harder, and sometimes stupider. I don't know if it's showing off to impress Jenna, or just because I love the game, but whatever it is, it certainly can't be bad.

“Where did Colin come from?” asks Mr. Kenner with shock after I steal a floater with a well-timed leap. I impress him more and more each day. Whipping the Frisbee around my back, I launch it towards our endzone before Mr. Kenner can recover, a quick flip of the wrist that sends it sailing over everyone's head. Sid reads it perfectly as it begins to curve away to the right. He is perfectly in place to catch the disc, which he does. Our whole team congratulates him, and I hear Jenna yelling from the stands.

We all retreat to our endzones, and Sid tosses the Frisbee to me. I thank him, and take my position at the goal line. I motion for everyone to stay clear of my disc's trajectory, wherever it may go. That means that everyone must be behind me, because even though I may have a strong arm, I am not always accurate. After last week, I don't want to take chances. I raise the Frisbee above my head and prepare myself. Then, I bring the disc down to my side and take three steps.

“Yabba, dabba, doo,” I whisper.

The Frisbee shoots across the golden sky, as if released from a cannon. It sails over the competition.

“King! Whenever you throw, you're going to get a handicap of fifty feet! Nobody likes to run back to get the Frisbee!” Coach Schroeder loudly jokes. I only smile, knowing that he thinks the world of me. My ego isn't affected; his praise just makes me work harder.

“Hold still!”

“No, no, Jenna, it's alright, just a small scrape, that's all!” “A small scrape? You're bleeding up and down your whole leg!”

“Please don't...” I wince as Jenna puts a wet washcloth on my battle wound. It hurts, but I conceal most of the pain, although it shows on my face. She rubs it a little, and I feel my skin tear a little. “I. Hate. Dirt fields,” I grunt.

“I'll say!” exclaims Jenna, “You need to be more careful!”

“It's...just a game. And I felt the urge to show off.”

“Not for me, I hope! You scared me more than you impressed me!”

“I still got the Frisbee...”