See Dot Smile

The Game: Part 1

I'm not a football fan. But I am a fan of high school football games. Especially late season games, when the fall weather starts creeping in, and you have to break out your hat and fingerless gloves and get aggressively hot, poorly blended hot chocolate from the concession stand to keep warm.

When we were in middle school and Brent let us tag along with him to games, Joshua and I would buy hot chocolate and take it under the bleachers, where we'd purposely burn our tongues on the first sip so we couldn't taste anything. Then we'd eat mustard packets without grimacing to impress each other.

But things changed. I'm sure Joshua took Ali under the bleachers, too. Guessing they weren't sucking mustard packets back there. Unless that's a euphemism I'm not aware of.

"Okay, J.J., don't go knocking up my little sister under the bleachers." Brent smacks Joshua on the back then doubles his stride toward the field in search of his old band of miscreants, home from college to start shit at their alma mater.

"Well, there go my plans for the afternoon." Joshua smiles and leans against Brent's car. "We haven't been to a game together in a million years."

"Or a Homecoming dance ever," I say. It tastes bitter but I don't think it sounds that way.

He straightens up and turns to face me. His nose is rosy from the cold, and his breath is escaping his parted lips in tiny wisps of steam. "Hey Dot." He smiles cheekily and it makes me giggle. "Will you go to the Homecoming dance with me?"

It's silly. We're all going to the dance as a group tonight anyway. But it checks a long vacant box on my to-do list with Joshua. Because Ali asked Joshua to the Homecoming dance freshman year. And he said yes. And they were still dating sophomore year when the dance came around. And they were still dating last year, when they left the dance early and went to her house. 

And had sex in her bed.

"Yes."

"Awesome," he says. "It's a date."

He takes my arm, and we head toward the crowded bleachers and the sound of the marching band warming up. I spot Marcus standing alone by the concession stand. I wave him over and he falls in beside me. "Hi friend," I say, smiling. He smiles back and lets me link my free arm through his. "I've got two dates now. Lucky me."

Marcus laughs softly and squeezes my arm. 

Tom says I make Marcus feel safe, which is a big deal. The reason the DGLS has to work so hard to find places for him and Tom to connect, is because Marcus has a lot of anxiety issues. He can't lie to his parents (too much fundamentalist church dogma in him), and he had a traumatic childhood, thanks to his older brother who tormented him for years. 

Marcus can't fool around with Tom in cars, or in garages, because when he was little that's where he'd hide from his brother. 

He's also afraid to get physical in bedrooms because his dad is always barging into his, trying to catch him doing something punishable, like watching porn or masturbating.

Or writing poetry.

It's a lot for them to work around. But it makes me happy to know Marcus trusts me, and that Tom trusts me with Marcus. I love them so much. I just want the universe to see how hard they're working to be together and give them what they need to be happy. Or at least take away some of what's keeping them miserable.

Lilliana has already claimed a spot for us on the bleachers. Her legs are stretched out to cover more seats and there are textbooks on the opposite side to reserve space for another ass or two. It's so like Lilliana to do homework during a football game. When she was dating Kendall, she couldn't keep her eyes off the field. Or the bench. Or the locker room door. But now she's less... engaged. She's here though, so that's something.

She swings her feet off the bench, tossing us a flannel blanket. We spread it over our four laps and huddle together. "Hey Marcus," she says, "ready to cheer your man on today?"

Marcus nods eagerly and squeezes my arm again. We all stamp our feet to the band, leading the team onto the field. Joshua slides his hand into mine under the blanket and my heart jumps in my chest. 

He leans his mouth to my ear so I can hear him over the band. "I feel so good right now," he says. "I'm really happy. That you're next to me."

"Me too," I say.

Marcus leans in to my other ear. "Me three."

I laugh and plant a kiss on his cheek which he wipes away, blushing, because I'm a girl, and ew. But he's smiling and he's safe.

This does feel good.

Really good.

Go team.

Our "team" is totally shitting the bed, but we're trying not to let it ruin our afternoon. Unfortunately, there are other things trying to ruin my afternoon. Like running into Ali at half-time while Joshua and I are waiting in line for aggressively hot, poorly blended hot chocolate.

Before she walked up to us, Joshua and I were holding hands. Now that she's standing here, we're not. I don't know which of us let go first.

"Hey guys," Ali says.

Joshua doesn't respond. So, I need to. "Hey."

"Listen," she sighs, "I just want you to know that I'm fine with us trying to be friends again. I'm just waiting for you guys to stop being so cold to me."

Joshua scoffs and presses his lips together. Ali looks at me, and I feel two inches tall.

"So," she says, crossing her arms under her massive chest like she's trying to accentuate it. "Are you guys like ... a thing now?"

"Let's go," Joshua says, taking my hand and pulling me out of line.

"It's been months, Josh," she calls after us. "When are you going to be ready to talk to me?"

Joshua grips my hand harder, and I pull it away. "Ouch!" I stop in my tracks. "That hurts!"

He turns back with tears in his eyes. "You didn't need to let go," he says angrily.

"Let go of what?" His sudden emotion has me flustered.

"My hand," he says. "You didn't need to do that. I want to hold your hand. I'm allowed to. She doesn't get to make me feel like I can't."  

I take a step closer and put my hand on his shoulder. "Okay, I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking about it when I did it. It just ... happened."

"I don't want it to happen," he says, his eyes pleading. "I don't want to let go of your hand, Dot. I don't want to let go again."

My heart starts to pound, as the band drumlines the team back onto the field. I find Joshua's hands and hold them in mine. "Then don't," I say.

He tries to smile, but there's hurt behind it. A stampede of cleated football players jogs past us, and I scan the jerseys for my favorites. A gleaming pair of dark eyes catches mine and Tom hops out of line. "You keeping my sweetheart happy for me?" He smiles.

"I'm in good hands, doll face. Don't worry," Joshua chimes in. The opportunity to razz Tom has cheered him up some.

"Haha," Tom says. His eyes move to the back of the line of players, where Kendall is pulling up the rear, squeezing the fingers of his right hand and gritting his teeth. Tom looks worried. "Hey, man. You okay?"

Kendall walks by, glowering. "Yeah, Dad. Let's get this game over with."

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