Rule #9 by Sheri Duff
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We pull into the stadium lot and find a spot to park at the south section. Not many people have arrived yet, but the cars are starting to straggle in. The lights on the scoreboard are lit and the field looks like the sun never set. My blood warms and my heart races. I love Friday nights in the fall.
“Hi, girls.” Alicia waves. I didn’t realize I parked my car right next to hers. But how am I supposed to know which white SUV belongs to her? Her and some other lady walk alongside us. “Should be a fun game!”
She waves her blue-and-white poms. She overdid it at the spirit wear shop: the only thing that doesn’t have the Stallion logo or colors is her jeans. Even her tennis shoes are royal blue.
The woman who came with her has an oversized sweatshirt that only football players and coaches can get, so I’m assuming she’s some coach’s wife.
What does Alicia expect me to say? Love the new car. Hey, you should sit with us. Are you doing anything after the game?
“Hey. I heard your dad called you.” Alicia moves closer.
I stall and wait for Vianna to catch up. I grab my friend’s arm and whisper in her ear, “Great, she’s gonna invite herself to sit with us.”
“Nice car, Alicia, good seeing you.” Natalie tugs at my arm, pulling me away from my dad’s new wife and her friend. “Let’s go.”
Vianna clings to me so that she’s not separated. It’s like we’re on a field trip and the teacher has made us link our arms together so that we don’t get lost.
We find our group of friends tailgating…and the hot chocolate. I grab Natalie’s cup and take a sip. The cocoa isn’t hot, but the mixture still warms my stomach. I down the remainder of the liquid. I don’t give a crap anymore. My parents will never reconcile now. My dad’s new wife has ruined all chances of that. I need this drink.
“Hey.” Natalie tries to grab the cup from me. “You’re driving.”
I hand Natalie the empty cup. “Not anymore.”
Vianna holds out her hand. I hand her my keys and she hands me her hot chocolate. “You need this more than I do,” she says.
I don’t want to overdo it. I’ve only become so stupid drunk that I acted like an idiot once. Okay, twice. Once with the car and one other time where I cried all night. That’s it. The cheerleaders act like idiots on a weekly basis. They’re the type to drink too much, and then cry at the end of the night. More like sob. They look ridiculous, laughing one second, crying and hugging each other the next, and then ending up with their heads stuck to the nearest toilet, forgetting that boys actually pee and miss on those things. Our cheer squad is that stupid.
I pop a piece of peppermint gum into my mouth.
We still haven’t entered the stadium. The trick is to drink fast, then enter the stadium with a crowd of people. Before the woozy feeling takes over.
We’ve failed at the first part. We still haven’t made it into the stadium and found our seats, and there are no lines at the gate. Unfortunately, most everyone is watching the kickoff. If I feel light-headed before I secure my entrance, it won’t be good. I don’t have much time, especially since Andrew’s mom stands at the gate taking tickets. She always knows who’s drinking. She credits this knowledge to her troubled teen years.
“Massie? You okay?” Andrew’s mom asks.
I hand her my ticket. “Yes, Mrs. Sheppard. I’m fine.”
“Your eyes are a bit glossy.” She moves her head closer, taking a better look.
“Crying.” I wipe the skin underneath my eyes and chew hard on my peppermint gum. I’m wishing I would’ve drunk vodka. At least it doesn’t have a lingering alcohol smell.
“You gonna be okay?” She pats my shoulder gently.
Crap. I need to get in before I fumble my words. Dads at the gate are so much easier to walk past than moms. If dads asked the same question, which they wouldn’t, tears would’ve sealed my entrance. Dads never want to talk about feelings.
Here it goes. I hope for a line to form behind me. I say enough but not too much. “Dad got remarried. I parked next to the new wife. She has a new car so I didn’t know. She’s gonna take my dad to the cleaners like Natalie and Vianna’s stepmoms.” A family gathers behind us wanting to enter. Thank God. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” I let my eyes bubble.
“Okay, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything.” Mrs. Sheppard moves to the side so we can enter.
Past hurdle number one. But hurdle number two is waiting for me on the other side of the gate: Blake.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I move away from Andrew’s mom and Blake follows me. We stand by the bleachers where the majority of Pine Gulch High gathers. The few parents who have founds seats on the top bleachers will move before the game is over. We stand most of the game. And we are loud. It’s our section and parents usually can’t hang.
“I was thinking, maybe we could go somewhere else to talk?” Blake gives me a look.
“Oh, no. Not going to happen.” I cross my arms and look down toward the seats my friends have secured.
“I’m really sorry about…” he stops and stands there like I’m supposed to take the next step, like I’m supposed to be the next one to say something.
I wait without saying a word. I may have been really sad the other night. I didn’t mean to let him hold me. But I’m pissed now. And I’m sick of him showing up.
“Um.” He takes a swig of his hot chocolate.
The cup is the same as the ones we had at the tailgate. I grab the cup from him and finish it off, letting the heat from the alcohol fill my body. I crush the cup, and then hand it back to Blake dripping chocolate foam. I wipe the liquid that dribbles down my hand onto his jeans and walk away.