“Danny, it's okay, you….”
“Jay, this is hard for me. Just let me finish, okay?”
I nod with my mouth shut.
“Okay, so here it is. You know how I worked hard during spring practice and performed really well in the spring game, and the guy who was the starter last year did really shitty?”
“Yeah.”
What's this got to do with us?
“Well, I haven't said anything, but I'm pretty sure I'll be first on the depth chart this fall.”
It takes a second for that to sink into my brain.
“You mean like The Starting Quarterback at Nebraska? Danny that's awesome! It's huge! It's what you've always wanted, what you're meant to do.”
“You think so?”
“Uh, yeah. Greatness is in you. Don't you know that?”
Danny literally oozes confidence.
“Maybe, but, well, here,” he says shyly.
And he is NEVER shy.
He fishes a folded up piece of paper out of his wallet and hands it to me, “Look at this.”
I unfold the paper and see it's a picture of me, in my flag bikini top, no less, jumping up to catch a pass with Phillip just behind me.
It's a really great picture of us.
Weird. I don't usually photograph so well.
“Where'd you get this?” I study the picture closely. “Hey! This is from that day in Lincoln, when you pissed me off enough to run down the field in my bikini top in front of half the football team. Right?”
“Yeah,” Danny laughs, remembering. “You told me if I missed you that time, you were coming back for my pants.”
“I was serious. Where'd you get this picture?”
“Oh, it seems one of the school paper's photographers found you a very interesting subject,” he says with one eyebrow raised at me, like he finds this very humorous. “He took a ton of pictures of you and gave me a few of the best. This is my favorite. Oh, and I was supposed to have told you that he wants to go out with you.” He shakes his head at me and teases, “You've grown up to be quite the little heartbreaker.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Look at the picture, Jay.”
I do.
“It's a fun picture. I love the look on Phillip's face.”
“I mean look at you. You look gorgeous. Perfect.” He lays back on the hammock, pulling me down with him and says, “You are also looking at my goal. Perfection. Wanna know what I see in the picture?”
I nod yes.
“I see a perfect pass, a perfect catch, and two perfect friends. When I first went to college, I wasn't throwing well. Probably trying too hard instead of just doing it. But I couldn't figure out what was wrong, why things weren't easy anymore. I talked to the team shrink, and he asked me if I'd ever used positive visualization. Of course I had. In B-ball, Coach K was always telling us to picture ourselves making every shot at night before we went to sleep. In fact, our team motto was If you can dream it, you can do it. And in high school, whenever I was flustered or out of sync, I would just picture myself throwing to you and Phillip in the yard. It relaxed me. I realized I hadn't been doing that or having much fun playing lately. He told me to focus on a time I threw a perfect pass and to picture that in my mind when I start to get out of sync.”
He pauses and points to the picture in my hand.
“This is the picture I visualize. When I think of us playing catch, I relax and have fun with the game. I'm on target.”
I raise one eyebrow at that boy. “All the millions of times we've played catch and I have to be in a bikini in this visual? Isn't there something kind of sick and twisted in that?”
“Maybe,” he laughs. “I'll never forget the first time Phillip and I saw you in that bikini. You had been laying out, and you were covered in oil. I think I had to bribe you to come play catch with us. But man, when you walked through that gate in that bikini, glistening in the sun, Phillip and I both just stood there in shock. I think it was the first time I really realized you were a girl, a hot girl.” He smirks at me, “Well, and maybe a bit during your kissing lessons.”
“Lesson,” I remind him. Only one.
“I know I was sure jealous when you asked if we thought Jake would like it. If I remember right, Phillip practically told you it looked awful. He didn't want you wearing it for Jake either.”
He pauses and grins, “I kinda have a thing for that bikini, and well, the American flag in general now, as a matter of fact.”
Then he catches me by surprise and pulls me into a wonderful, sweet and way too short kiss. He shakes his head at me, like he just can't decide what to do and says, “Last night, I, um......., God, this is way harder than I thought it would be.”
I am about to make a naughty joke about what might be harder than it should be and suggest we maybe check it out in my bedroom. But as I am about to open my mouth, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me again, and for once in my life, I don't say a thing.
I am so proud of my restraint.
Maybe I will reward myself with some chocolate later.
We lay there, wrapped in each others arms for awhile, before he speaks again.
“I think you're awesome, Jay,”
I hear a big BUT coming….
“But I don't think we should date.”
I knew it. Fuck.
“Why?”
He sighs. “Part of me thinks we'd be great together, but I know we'd fight. You know how we fight.”
“Yeah, I know how we fight,” I laugh. “Danny, I don't understand. You love a challenge. Why do you always date girls who worship you? Where's the challenge in that?”
“There isn't one - that's the point. I have enough challenge in other areas of my life. With the girls I date, I just want simple, smooth and easy.” His hand goes out in front of him, making a calm water gesture.
“Easy to get along with or just plain easy?”
“Both is good,” he laughs. “But either way, not words I would use to describe you. Oh, I don't know,” he shakes his head, “a lot could happen. But I do know this. If we dated, it would ruin the picture. Probably ruin my game.”
Football. There's the real reason!
Doesn't that just suck!
Then he adds sweetly, “But most importantly, I'm afraid it would ruin us. I love you, Jay. I love our friendship,” he shakes his head and closes his eyes, “and I really, really, don't want to do anything to screw it up.”
Figures.
The one nice guy I try to date is too nice.
Thank God he passed out last night, and we didn't have sex.
“Danny,” I say diplomatically, “in the last eight days, I've gotten dumped by my boyfriend for a slut, buried both my parents, AND,” I smile at him, “just recently learned one of my best friends has a sick perversion for me. I really don't think I could handle a relationship right now.”
I'm totally lying, I could so handle a relationship with Danny, well, I think I could. Really I don't know. But I let him off the hook because I don't want to ruin our friendship either. I seriously don't know what I would do without him and Phillip.
Especially now.
He kisses me on the cheek and gets off the hammock, being careful not to tip me. “You know you love me.”
“Yeah, I know. And you're damned lucky I do.”
Cuz he is.
“Here's a thought,” he adds seriously.
“Yeah?”
“You'd be good with Phillip.”
And with that, he left.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
The rest of my senior year flew by. I slowly adjusted to not having my parents around, but it was hard. Sadly, what they say is true. Life does go on all around you, whether you want it to or not. I'm trying to take it day by day. Some are better than others because I have this constant empty ache inside of me, but I keep going. Phillip and Danny's families have been awesome though, and I haven't ever felt completely alone, like I was so afraid I would. Before I knew it, I was a high school graduate and then down in Lincoln and officially a college girl!