12. Everett
CHAPTER TWELVE
Everett
THEN
When I played basketball up in Monterey, game day wasn’t very ceremonious. It was even a little blasé in my opinion. So when the first game of the season at Torrey Pines High School finally comes around, it’s a pleasant surprise to see how the entire school rallies to celebrate. The team wears dress shirts and slacks—tie optional—while Coach roams the hallways in a suit. We also make sure to sit together during lunch while the cheerleaders stop by our classes to offer goody bags with power bars and small bottles of Gatorade.
The attention and commotion are contagious, and I feel just as ready and hyped for the game.
“We’re all heading out to a bonfire after the game,” Josh informs me excitedly at the end of the day. “The cheerleaders are organizing it. You have to be there.”
I watch in amusement, Josh hopping up and down like an eager toddler, his fist punching into the opposite hand while he urges me to tell him yes.
“Yeah,” I answer. “My dad’s in town to catch the game so I’ll probably have to check in with him first.”
“Your dad’s here?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, whipping my keys out of my pocket as we reach the parking lot. “He makes it a point to make it to as many of my games as he can. And since it’s the first of the season and he had some time off, he flew down for the week.”
Teeny walks into view just then, skipping toward Josh with a gleeful smile. Her friend, Diana, who I’ve met a few times, trails behind her, eyeing me with a sly smile and her position somehow strategic in the way she’s hiding behind Teeny while making sure to catch any glimpse of mine and Josh’s conversation. I’ve noticed a lot of “strategic things” a few of the junior and senior girls do around me. Whispering things to each other in between secret giggles, waving at me in the cafeteria, or even the occasional greeting from girls I don’t even know the names of.
“Can we drop off Diana? She’s going home before the game. She forgot her clothes for the bonfire.” Diana cups a hand at Teeny’s ear and whispers something, her gaze on me, and I stand there a bit awkwardly.
“You’re going too?” I ask, interjecting her question directed at her brother.
Teeny shifts her smile in my direction, though the way her eyes light up with intrigue changes when she looks at me. “Yes. Why?”
I answer her with a shrug. “Just asking.” We continue this silent staring contest, uncaring of Josh’s presence as he rifles through his bag, his attention thankfully elsewhere.
Teeny tugs at her lower lip with her teeth, and I duck my head to the concrete, where she can’t see the creeping smile cutting across my face. She’s the only one of the girls who looks in my direction that makes me feel flustered and shy. No matter how many waves and flirty giggles I get, it’s only Teeny that makes the blood rush to my cheeks.
“Yeah,” Josh finally answers Teeny, though Diana is already helping herself to the back seat. “I’ll see you at the game,” he tells me.
We all climb into our respective cars, and I give Teeny one last look as she hops into the passenger seat next to Josh. I catch her watching me, her smile unchanging as I buckle up and turn the ignition on in my car.
As soon as I pull up to my house, I see a shiny black Lincoln sedan parked in the driveway next to my mom’s minivan. I walk inside, only to be greeted by tense voices.
“What am I supposed to do? This is my job, Alice.”
“Realize that you have a family. Prioritize your wife and your son for a change. What happened last year?—”
“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again. I already told you I messed up. What more do you want?”
I don’t mean to eavesdrop on my parents. Whatever rigidity that’s palpable from the next room isn’t something that I want to walk in on, but I fear it’s too late. I shut the door behind me with the purposeful intention of making some noise.
“Well, Eddie?—”
All conversation comes to a halt.
“Ev, is that you?” I hear my dad call.
“Uh, yeah,” I answer, walking into the kitchen where my parents are on either side of the island, their hands braced on the marble surface and their body language weary with frustration. My dad walks over to me, reaching for my hand for a firm handshake.
“First game of the season,” he tells me, patting my shoulder. “Nervous?”
I shake my head, unconvincingly smiling at him through my lie. “Just ready to play, Coach.”
“Good.”
“Game starts at five?” my mom asks, turning toward the fridge, her gaze preoccupied.
“Yeah, but I need to be there early.”
“We’ll go early too,” my dad says. “I want to finally meet your coach in person.”
I nod before I head to my room to change. I busy myself with getting ready while keeping my ears open. My parents fighting isn’t something new. Their marriage has always been what I’ve grown to call fragile. With the line of work my dad does, his priorities have always been awry. My mom has always questioned his devotion to us, especially when she’s had to step in and take on the usually assumed roles my dad would’ve taken. As I’ve gotten older, their arguments have gotten more frequent. Often my mom demanding more of his time and his response being that she’s being unreasonable and that she should understand the responsibilities his job requires. Since our move to San Diego, their arguments have been less frequent with the distance between them, but the frustration and resentment from my mom hasn’t gone anywhere. In fact, I’ve seen it linger and simmer without the presence of my dad to reassure her.
An hour later, I’m sitting in the back seat of my dad’s rental as we pull into the parking lot of my school. I get out first, letting my parents take their time making their way to the gymnasium. I make it to the locker room, finding that a lot of my teammates are already there. Everyone seems to be basking in the game day hype, and my mood matches the lively, animated energy around me. Which is good since my nerves have been somewhat on edge all day, knowing the scrutiny my dad will have on my skills for four full quarters.
I find my locker, reaching for my fresh, unused jersey. The locker room starts to bustle even louder with pre-game energy. As the clock counts down to tipoff, we all funnel out to the court, trailing behind one another as we start a round of drills to get our blood pumping. The bleachers are starting to fill, and the cheerleaders have already taken their spots on the sidelines, matching the competitiveness buzzing between us and the opposing team trickling in from the other end.
I pause, taking a moment to drink some water before things pick up, when I catch Teeny walking into the gymnasium. She has her face painted with a bright gold falcon on her cheek and her hair is tied up in two pigtails. She has a large poster that says “GO 44” in big block letters.
“Hey, Hayes,” she calls, her pigtails bouncing as she lowers her sign, and she plops down a step to meet me at eye level. “You ready to kick some ass out there?”
I smirk and jerk my head to her sign made for Josh. “Where’s mine?”
“Didn’t think you’d want one,” she answers, a sheepish smile spreading across her face.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Thought people might think it’s weird?” she says, her voice unsure.
“Hayes!” I turn to where the rest of my teammates are gathering for our huddle with Coach. “Come on!” he calls.
I turn to face Teeny again. “I want mine twice as big for the next game.”
I walk away, my back to Teeny, but look over my shoulder one more time before reaching the now fully formed huddle. Teeny’s still watching me, and I fully face her, waving my hand in her direction like a love-sick fool. Teeny waves back and just as I reach the team, Josh eyes me, having caught the entire exchange.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Just saying hi to Teen.”
He responds with a light hum before we’re interrupted by Coach.
The game starts, and the gymnasium is pulsating with a waving uproar of noise and suspense. The booming cheers echo off the polished floors, and our pace on the court matches that of the crowd around us. I don’t start, just like Coach said, but by the third quarter, right after halftime, I’m in. I look over at my dad, his place right behind where Coach is pacing the sidelines. I notice Coach occasionally walking over to my dad, the two in deep conversation whenever there’s a lull on the court. My dad watches me intently as soon as I take my place. Running up and down the court, passing the ball to my teammates while making sure to keep a close eye on my footwork. It’s a strenuous game, considering I haven’t been in a game with this much pressure since last school year, and I’m breaking a sweat by the time fourth quarter rolls around.
With the last few minutes ticking away on the time clock, the scoreboard displays bright glowing numbers in our favor. Before the last buzzer rings, we’re already celebrating our win: 99 to 76. The bleachers start to empty, some of the crowd filing onto the glossy basketball court, and as we’re all celebrating the first game and win of the season, I catch Teeny running toward me. Without even thinking about it, I swoop down and lift her into my arms.
“Good game, Hayes!” she squeals. Her elbow hooks over my neck where my skin feels slippery with sweat, but she doesn’t pull away. The bows on her pigtails tickle my cheek, and I give one of them a light tug as I set her back on solid ground.
We’re interrupted just then by my parents. My dad lands a hard pat on my shoulder, pride bursting from his eyes. “I talked to Coach before the game,” he tells me. “Said you’re doing really well so far. Might even have you start at the next game.”
I eye Teeny, and she grins an encouraging smile up at me. It’s a private exchange, her expressing her praise and my gratitude for her seeking me out immediately after the game, something I hoped for as the clock ticked through the last seconds of the game.
“Dad, this is Teeny,” I say to my dad, tampering down the urge to pull her into another tight embrace. “She lives next door.”
“Oh, hi! Nice to see you again,” he tells her. Teeny responds with a polite smile.
My mom places a gentle hand on Teeny’s shoulder. “Hi, Teeny.”
“Well, we’ll let you celebrate with your team. Don’t be out too late,” my dad warns. He and my mom turn to leave the crowded gym, and I’m left there with Teeny.
“You riding with Josh to the beach?”
“Actually, he’s going with some other guys on the team. It’s just me.”
I smile. “Mind if I hitch a ride?”
“Sure,” she says, grinning back at me. “I’ll be at my car.”
I stop by the locker room to grab my things and change. When I make it to the parking lot and find Teeny standing next to her car, I drop my bag on the concrete and stop inches from her.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
I peer around me, making note of the almost empty lot before ducking my face down to kiss her. She responds by tilting her head back and lifting herself up onto her toes. I lean into her, making her take a step backward to her car. We both fall against the window, and I cage her into me with my hands braced against the hood of the car.
I’m slowly learning that each time I kiss Teeny, I discover something new about her. The first time I kissed her, I learned that she was nervous. Like really nervous. I didn’t realize it until I kissed her again, and her body wasn’t as stiff and unsure. And now that I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve kissed her, I’m noticing that she’s become softer, more loose and yielding. Her breathing isn’t labored anymore. Instead, it’s sensual with her soft sighs and even softer lips. She doesn’t lock up anymore, uncertain of how to follow my lead. She lets me move her, guide her, and it somehow calms me knowing she’s willing to trust me.
When I pull away, Teeny looks around us. Her wary eyes shift side to side, and I cup the side of her face, refusing to create more space between us than there already is.
“I like you.” The words splinter out of me like fireworks. They shoot through my chest, bursts of light going off in loud booms. I feel like my heart is going to explode. And while I tell her that I like her, I don’t know how to tell her it isn’t as simple as that.
I like her. A lot.
Her cheeks flush, and she presses her hand into my chest, leaving it there to rest. “With the way you keep kissing me, I sure hope so,” she responds. “Unless you’re going around kissing other girls willy-nilly.”
I laugh. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Good. ’Cause I like you too.” More fireworks .
“And…we’re only kissing each other.” She nods with the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. “Sounds like something only boyfriends and girlfriends do.”
“Yeah?”
My smile matches hers, the fingers resting along her jaw and her neck tracing idle circular patterns. “Yeah.”
“Does that mean you want to be my boyfriend?” she asks shyly. She ducks her head bashfully, and I resist the urge to pinch her cheek.
“Is that okay?” I ask. Because I need her to be okay with it. Me, her, us. Me touching her and kissing her. Me playing this much significance in her life. I need to know that all of it’s okay with her. Because, until now, she’s done nothing but offer solace. She carries this warm glow that somehow silences all the loud and chaos. She’s made everything in my life okay. And all I want to do is do the same for her.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”
I lean down to kiss her again. She feels like putty. Her loose neck making her head lull, the light sag in her shoulders, even the slackened sigh that squeezes through her lips. Everything about her screams pliant and willing.
Just as my lips brush against hers, we’re interrupted by a loud honk and a burst of cheers. I look behind me when a car pulls to a stop next to us, Kevin, another member of the team, at the wheel.
“Come on, Hayes!” he calls, pushing his hand against the horn one more time at the same time a round of loud whoops sound from the passengers squished inside his SUV. He catches the way my hand is still braced against Teeny’s car and Teeny’s hand hooked over my bicep.
“Yeah, we’re leaving now.”
“Hi, Teeny.” He waves at Teeny, and Teeny offers a meek smile and a shy wave.
“Hey.”
“See you guys at the bonfire!” The tires screech, and Kevin drives off, leaving myself and Teeny in the now almost empty parking lot. There are a few stragglers left, those caught behind the rush of parking lot traffic.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
After a quick twenty-minute drive to Mission Bay, we find that the parking lot nearest to the bonfire is packed. Cars are circling the parking lot and moving onto a lot further down after no luck finding a spot. Teeny gets lucky, pulling right up behind a car leaving just as we enter, and we take a moment to sit in the car before getting out.
“How does it feel to get your first win?” She turns to lean her cheek on the headrest and draws her knee up to her chest. “Your dad seemed really excited about the game.”
I mimic her, unbuckling first and resting my hand on the center console between us. “Can I be honest?”
She sits up straighter. “Of course.”
“It’s whatever.” My voice sounds morose, even a little surly.
Teeny gently places her hand on mine and starts stroking my knuckles with her thumb, encouraging me to continue.
“Basketball’s really my dad’s thing,” I explain. “I have fun. Especially with the team here. And I like it enough to have done it for the past four years, but I probably would’ve given it up a long time ago if I knew my dad wouldn’t be so disappointed.”
“So, no plans to go pro?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Does your dad know that?”
“Yeah,” I tell her with a solemn nod. “He knows, and he hasn’t fought me on it, but I can sense the disappointment in him. I think he comes to my games hoping it would guilt me enough to change my mind.
“A part of me feels like I do it to keep the peace at home,” I add. “My parents…they have their own set of issues. My dad cheated on my mom last year. They don’t know that I know, and I can see how it’s really messing my mom up. Now that my dad isn’t even in the same house, I hear her cry at night. Just today, they were arguing when I got home.”
“I’m sorry, Everett.” She curls her palm into mine and gives me a gentle comforting squeeze.
“You know, I’ve never told anyone that? About my parents.”
She smiles. “You told me.”
“I did.” I don’t really know why I did, but now, having told her, I feel lighter. Less wound up and queasy. I don’t know how to pinpoint the way my body always feels on edge, like my feet are never fully grounded but always bouncing on my tiptoes, ready to jump to action at a second’s notice. When I talk to Teeny, all of that falls silent. It becomes quiet and I feel…calm. “Is it weird that I feel comfortable telling you? I don’t know. I usually don’t have anyone to talk to, and this—” I pause to lightly tap my finger against her wrist. “Thank you…for letting me talk. And for listening.”
“It’s not weird, Everett,” she tells me, reaching to cup my face.
I turn my cheek and lightly kiss her palm.
How is it this easy? I can’t remember the last time I felt this at ease. With constantly moving, my dad’s work always shifting and my life in a forever tentative state, I don’t know what calm feels like. And in this new town in a new school surrounded by people I’m still getting to know, Teeny’s somehow made me feel as if I belong. The heels of my feet are slowly touching the ground with the intention of staying there.
“Ready?” I ask.
With a quick nod, we both exit the car. Teeny undoes her pigtails, loosening the ties at her crown. She shakes her head and groans when she runs her fingers through her hair.
“Were those pigtails hurting?”
“They weren’t comfortable.” She starts braiding her hair down one shoulder while I whip out a hoodie from my gym bag. Teeny finishes up, swiping some ChapStick over her pink lips, and we make our way to the beach. I hook my arm around her, to which Teeny embraces, sidling up to me with ease.
“You know there’s going to be a lot of people here,” she comments, gripping my wrist hanging loosely over her shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“People who are going to see me and you show up together.” She lets go of my hand and starts to pull away, but I immediately reach for her, linking our fingers together.
“Yeah.” I don’t let go, and as we trudge through the sand, approaching a thick crowd of Torrey Pines’ student body, I pull her closer to me.
“Hey!” Josh approaches me, glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. His gaze catches me and Teeny linked together, a flash of confusion and uncertainty pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You guys came together?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him. Teeny’s eyes shift nervously, and the three of us stand there, unsure of what to do next.
“Okay.” Josh tips back a cup held loosely in his hand before he walks away.
“That was a little weird, right?” Teeny whispers as we watch Josh peruse a large table littered with chips and a tall stack of pizza boxes.
My eyes pinch into a guilty squint as I scratch the back of my neck. “I should talk to him.”
She nods. “Probably.”
“You good?”
She nods again, her face shifting into a reassuring smile. “Yeah.” She pauses, looking around the growing crowd, and her eyes catch a small group of her friends. “Diana and Holly are here too so I’m going to go catch up with them.”
I lean down and place a swift peck on her cheek. “Don’t go too far.”
“I won’t.” She gently pushes a hand into my stomach before I turn away, stealing glances in her direction as I approach Josh. He’s hovering over a large cooler, shifting through the ice.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He’s distracted, refilling his drink with something red and fruity smelling. He tilts the unlabeled canister in my direction, and I shake my head. “So, you came with Teeny.”
“I did,” I answer honestly. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, man,” he responds with an earnest smile.
“You sure?”
He nods. “Just…you know. Be good to her.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t need to talk to you about all of that big brother bullshit, but you know the whole, ‘If you ever hurt her?—’”
“I don’t plan to.”
“Good.”
Josh playfully pushes his fist into my shoulder, and I stumble a step back, relief replacing the taut tension between us.
“Hey, boys.”
Josh and I turn just as Angelica, a member of the cheerleading squad and a senior like us both, steps right between us, not bothering to let us move out of the way. Angelica’s hand brushes against my chest, and I think it’s an accident, but then she doesn’t move away, stamping her place in the sand right in front of me.
“Good game, new guy,” she says in a low voice.
“Thanks, Angelica.” I move a step back, crossing my arms across my chest, creating plenty of space between us.
“Can you get me a drink?” she asks, her lashes batting in my direction.
“The coolers are like, two feet from you,” Josh interjects. Angelica throws a harsh glare in Josh’s direction, and I use that moment to leave the conversation.
“See ya,” I tell Josh, just as he tilts his head back in an acknowledging nod.
It doesn’t take me long to find Teeny. She’s surrounded by her friends, a group of about four to five girls huddled around the glowing fire. A few of them have soda cans in their hands, and Teeny has a Capri-Sun gripped between her fingers.
“Hey,” I whisper into her ear as I sidle up behind her.
She turns to look at me, my chin resting on her shoulder. “Hey.”
I catch the eyes of the girls around Teeny glance in our direction. Some amused, mostly surprised.
“Hello,” I say, waving a hand.
“You guys know Everett,” Teeny says, eyeing the way not a single person greets me.
“Hi,” Diana finally says. A few of the girls follow suit, quietly whispering to each other. I glance down at Teeny, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“We were just talking about what a great game you boys had tonight,” one of the girls comments, tipping her plastic cup to her lips.
“Oh, yeah,” another adds. They share more glances at each other, something secretive and amusing.
Teeny shivers next to me, bringing her hands to her arms and rubbing over her shoulder for friction. I offer her the hoodie in my hand. “Here.”
“You won’t get cold?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I brought it for you.” I help her slip it over her head, and her face reemerges through the opening of my sweatshirt, the hood capped over her head. Strands of hair fall over her face, and she grins at me. I move the hairs out of the way and place a small kiss at her temple. “Better?”
She nods. “Better.” She turns and leans her back against my chest. I start to run my hands over her, attempting to warm her when I catch Angelica watching us through the flames of the glowing fire. She has this indignant look of judgment on her face with a raised brow and pursed lips, and she turns to say something to her own clique who’s standing a mere whisper of gossip of distance away from her. A few more heads turn in our direction, and I suddenly feel like we’re garnering more attention than I’m comfortable with.
Teeny slips her hand into mine, her focus on her friends, though with the way her fingers stroke my skin and her body still leans into mine, I know I’m somewhere in her line of thought.
“You want to get out of here?” I whisper into her ear.
She turns to face me. “Already?”
I nod, and she smiles.
“Yeah,” she answers. She then turns to her friends, letting them know she’s leaving. The exchange is quick, and my attention is more focused on leaving, away from the crowd, to somewhere less chaotic and probing.
We make our way to Teeny’s car, where I stop before getting into her car.
“You okay?” she asks.
I nod into her hair. “Yeah,” I tell her. “Just didn’t feel like mingling with the crowd.”
“Me too,” she tells me.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” she assures. “Did you want to go home?”
“No.”
“Did you have some place in mind?”
“No.”
She laughs, wrapping her arms around my waist. “So, you just made me leave the party early for nothing?”
“Not for nothing.” I swoop down and kiss her, wanting nothing more than to do this for the rest of the night. I don’t care where we are or what else we’re doing as long as I can keep doing this. “I am craving some waffles though.”
Her face lights up. “And Coke floats?”
“Absolutely.”
* * *
There’s something comforting about the mundane. I’ve had Marie’s more than once since Teeny introduced me to the place, and I’ve grown familiar with the warm syrupy taste of the waffles and the creamy fizz that comes with every sip of their Coke floats, but I’ll never get over how soothing and relaxing I feel with every first bite and sip.
While Teeny and I usually settle ourselves inside a booth, letting the high back seats create a small protective bubble away from the rest of the world, we opted to take our bubble elsewhere tonight.
“I’ve never had a nighttime beach picnic,” Teeny says, her hand slipping into mine as we make our way toward the lifeguard tower I’ve embedded into my memories.
“Neither have I.” I’m dangling the crinkly plastic bag, heavy with our late night treat, and a Styrofoam cup holding a Coke float in my hand. Teeny has her own cup, and she takes a long sip as we come to a stop at the base of the steps leading up the tower.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asks as I take the first step.
“Who’s going to tell us no?” I look over my shoulder, a towel that Teeny had in her car draped over it, urging her to follow. “Besides, you want to get sand all over the waffles?”
She gives an agreeable shrug and follows. I lay the towel down, right along the edge where the railing sits, and we both plop down.
“I always thought the lifeguard patrol would come out with their blow horns and whistles if I even stepped foot on here.”
I nudge my shoulder to hers. “Got to learn to live a little, Teeny.” I open up our to-go container and hand her her fork. She waits patiently while I pour a healthy serving of syrup over it, and she dives in. An enthusiastic giggle widens her smile, and I watch as the breeze picks up her hair and the moonlight glows against her skin.
I don’t know why it happens just then, with her focus on sawing through the crispy edges of the waffle and getting enough syrup to douse her piece, but it does. I realize I’m falling completely and utterly head over heels for her. It starts to spread through my chest, to my stomach, and all the way down to my fingers and toes, and it’s nearly debilitating. I can’t even pretend to act cool, like she doesn’t make the air move in and out of my lungs or that I find every single thing she does fascinating. Even something completely ordinary, like the way she drives or how her lips pucker and her cheeks puff out when she chews.
“What?” she asks, her mouth full.
I shake my head and smile. “Nothing.”