Waiting on the Sidelines

5. Friday Night

In the past, I attended Coolidge High football games wearing my brother's old Bears shirt, cut-off shorts and flip flops. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to settle in on how I looked. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. Of the dozen or so combinations of outfits I tried, I kept coming back to the black-and-white tank top that tied around my neck and the hip-hugging denim shorts. Pulling my hair up into a loose ponytail, I let a few strands fall at the nape of my neck, slightly curled from the humidity. I would be comfortable outside in the desert for the evening, but wouldn't need to worry about climbing over washes. I stuck with the converse shoes, sockless, so I could navigate my way through the dry brush and rocks at the party as well as climb the bleachers for the game.

I heard Sarah's sister honk the horn out front and I ran out to the living room, kissed my mom and dad and grabbed my overnight bag. I was spending the night at Sarah's house, or at least as soon as we got home from the party that's where I'd be. My parents never would have let me wander around the desert in the middle of the night with a bunch of older boys, never mind the fact that there would be alcohol there. I felt a tinge of guilt at my cover up, but the desire to break the rules for once in my life was too strong.

"I'll be home before lunch tomorrow, ok?" I said, holding the door a crack open as I was leaving.

"Have fun honey!" my mom yelled from the kitchen.

As I made my way down the steps of our porch and heard the crunch of the gravel under my feet, I felt the weight of my lie start to lift. I had made it, and I instantly started busying myself with how my night was going to go. I remembered the words Reed had written...pretty, he thought I was very pretty. I had read that part of his letter at least 100 times the night before. I had tucked it carefully in my jewelry lock box when I was done, afraid that someone might find it and throw it away. I never wanted to lose that letter.

As we rounded the corner of the main street in town, Sarah's sister Calley turned the radio up full blast. She was on the dance team and listened to a lot of hip hop music, which was not known for its quiet, subtle language. The students that had gathered early for the tailgate party were walking around the parking lot, sitting on the hoods of cars and in the beds of pickup trucks. As we pulled in and found a spot near the exit, heads started to turn in our direction, no doubt thanks to the F bombs blaring from Calley's car. She turned the ignition off, pulled down the mirror on her car's visor and touched up her lipstick. Finally, with a kissing sound, she flipped the mirror back up and kicked open her door.

"Let's go rule this shit, bitches!" she shouted, followed by a "wooooooo!"

Calley had a way of making you feel like the party started when you arrived, as long as you were with her. Twice suspended for fighting, she had a tough reputation. But she was also gorgeous. Calley and Sarah's dad was from Cuba. He had defected to the United States and met their mother when she was working at a diner in Miami. Her father refused to let them marry, so they ran away to Arizona. They've been married for 18 years now, which I guess goes to show that overprotective parents don't always know best. Anyhow, the Perez sisters had the most beautiful bronzed skin, light brown hair that fell down their backs in waves and curvy bodies built for dancing. I think that's why they both excelled so much at performing.

Sienna and I stepped from the car and shadowed our bolder leaders. When we reached the field, Sienna walked to the far entrance where the band was meeting up. She was nervous about her first time marching and playing an instrument at the same time. I didn't want to crush her spirit, but I was pretty sure most of the people in the stands tonight would be standing in the snack bar line during her performance. They were here for football, not the arts. I was starting to pull my wallet from my purse to pay for my game ticket when Calley grabbed my arm and shook her head.