Waiting on the Sidelines

10. Action, Reaction

Coolidge rode the wave of their newly minted state championship all the way through the holidays. And Reed's popularity and statewide notoriety climbed to new levels. He was only 16, but he was already being heavily recruited. I know his heart belonged to Tucson – the tradition of his father and, while he didn't care for him much, his brother. Despite this, he was being courted by schools from California, Illinois, Texas, Florida and Michigan.

We talked regularly, though never for long, and the focus was always on his college recruitments, football plans for next season and school. Tatum and Sean were merely brought up when we would tell one another to say hi to the other. There was an air of tension, but I couldn't explain it.

School was starting back after the holiday break and the buzz was the upcoming winter dance. Sienna, Sarah and I all volunteered to decorate the gym. We were excited about it but didn't really have much of a choice either as it was Tatum's committee and she was bent on putting us to work.

We had cut hundreds of snowflakes from these sheets of sparkly blue and silver paper that Sienna had picked up from a specialty store in the city. It took us more than three hours to string each one up and tack it to the ceiling. But the final effect was well worth the effort when Tatum switched off the lights and flicked on the glowing disco ball she had ordered to hang from the middle of the gymnasium. The flakes flickered and fluttered above us as the slight breeze from the air system caused them to sway. It seemed as if snow was falling here in the middle of the desert. We were pleased.

We had a little more than an hour to head home and prep ourselves for the dance. I was spending the night at Sarah's and had brought my clothes over to her house to get ready. I had one dress that would work. I had been hanging on to it for two years – my mom and I found it on a clearance rack at the big mall in Tucson when I was graduating from eighth grade and at the time it didn't quite fit me yet, my boobs not quite able to fill the top. It had a flirty and flowing silver and blue skirt that swayed just above my knees and a form-fitting glittery top that hugged my midsection and accentuated my small but mighty bust. Soft quarter sleeves cupped my shoulders to keep everything in place.

I slipped the dress on in Sarah's room while she was finishing up her make up in the bathroom. I was twirling to try to see the zipper on the back when Sarah entered behind me, her hand on her chin and her head turned sideways as if she was studying me for an art class.

"What?" I finally broke.

"Nothing," she said, unconvincingly. "It's just... It's just that something's, I don't know. Just not quite right?"

She started to turn me around slowly, still studying. Finally, she clapped her hands together, her face showing her mind clearly made up.

"Do you trust me?" she asked. I wasn't sure. The truth was, I trusted her with my life, but not necessarily with my outfit.

"Uh, I guess so... what are you going to do?" I waited nervously as she dug in one of her drawers. I gasped a little when I realized she was now holding scissors.

"Close your eyes. I don't want you freaking out on me," she said. I obeyed, holding my breath and scared as hell. Please don't cut my hair, please don't cut my hair. I was at first relieved when I felt Sarah pulling on the seams of my sleeves. Then clarity sat in and I realized she was altering my dress, and taking away the only thing holding it up.

"Sarah!" I screamed, pulling away a little. She grabbed my arm with a hard jerk.

"Nolan, for the love of god, just trust me. OK?" she was frustrated.

I relented and waited, still closing my eyes for fear of how this would all turn out. In a few minutes she ordered me to open my eyes. I stood, staring at her, blinking. I was petrified to move for fear that my dress would fall to my ankles. There was no bra underneath as I didn't own one that would hide appropriately under the cut.