full-length mirror on the back of our door. “Look at me, Jess.”
“I’m looking.”
“And? Come on.”
She sat up, arms folded. “Okay. You want the truth?”
“Spill it.”
She looked me up and down. “You could be seriously hot if you tried.”
“Damn it, Jess. I thought you were going, to be honest.” I slammed myself into my desk chair, glaring at her.
“I'm not lying! Geez, you act like you should be standing in the middle of the town square in a sackcloth, ringing a bell. With a sign that says ‘Unclean’ around your neck.”
I had to giggle. “Okay, I’m not that bad.”
“Here’s the thing, though. And you know I’m the expert on this. I mean, all the costumes they fit me for? And the costumes I’ve fitted, when I work in the shop? I know my shit. And you should be dressing to accentuate your body. You hide it too much, and it makes you look sloppy. You’re not fat, for God’s sake. You’re curvy and beautiful, Claire.”
Then, she stood and came to me. “Your hair, you never do anything with it—you hardly ever even dry it. You need a cut and a style. Maybe a few highlights.”
“Oh my God,” I screeched.
“I know what would work for you.”
“I don’t know, Jess.”
“I do. And who cares about Jake? Why not look good for yourself?” She picked up a handful of my loose brown hair and let it float down to my face. “You’re beautiful. Come on. Have a little fun while you’re young. Get out with me this weekend and we’ll get you some sexy outfits and a haircut.”
That made me hesitate. “You know I don’t have the money for that.”
“You will once you get your first paycheck for the work-study. You’re making twice as much now. I’ll spot you until then. How does that sound?”
I took a look at myself in the mirror and sighed. “Okay.” It was worth a shot, anyway.
9
Jake
“ C ome on , boys! We’re only down three! Get your head in the game!” Zack made it his duty to rev the team up like we needed any help. The first game of the season had been a nail-biter all the way through. We might have been exhausted, we might have been damned near wasted and filthy and half-dead, but we knew what was at stake.
The offensive line hit the field. We needed to move the ball all the way down from our own twenty-yard-line in less than a minute. It would take a miracle—but we had one of the best quarterbacks in the conference.
“Okay,” Max said, huddling. “They’ve been all over the passing game all day, so we run. Brad, it’s all you, brother.”
“I’ve got this.”
I crashed helmets with him, praying he had it. Losing the first game after winning the championship the year earlier would have crushed the school.
The roar of the Indiana Hoosiers’ crowd was almost too much to take. My ears rang with it, but I couldn’t wear earplugs on the field, or else I’d miss the calls.
Max called, “Hike!”
I snapped the ball, and threw all my weight behind, blocking not one but two defensive linemen from getting to him before he handed off to Brad. From the corner of my eye, I saw Brad take off.
“Yes!” I screamed shaking off the Indiana Hoosiers players and running behind my teammates as Brad ran out of bounds at the Indiana thirty. A fifty-yard run. I could’ve kissed him.
We huddled up, trying to run out the clock as much as possible while leaving time to score. Managing the clock was always something we tried to work on, but it was tough when we wanted to keep the momentum going. “Okay, boys. Thirty yards to go. I want to run a screen, here. They won’t expect a pass this close to the end zone.” He was probably right, I realized. Max almost never passed the ball when we were that close. The Indiana Hoosiers had nearly read our minds all day, so I knew they’d been paying attention. I hoped it worked in our favor.
We broke the huddle, getting in formation. I heard the frustrated grunts from the other players, knowing how desperate they
“I’m looking.”
“And? Come on.”
She sat up, arms folded. “Okay. You want the truth?”
“Spill it.”
She looked me up and down. “You could be seriously hot if you tried.”
“Damn it, Jess. I thought you were going, to be honest.” I slammed myself into my desk chair, glaring at her.
“I'm not lying! Geez, you act like you should be standing in the middle of the town square in a sackcloth, ringing a bell. With a sign that says ‘Unclean’ around your neck.”
I had to giggle. “Okay, I’m not that bad.”
“Here’s the thing, though. And you know I’m the expert on this. I mean, all the costumes they fit me for? And the costumes I’ve fitted, when I work in the shop? I know my shit. And you should be dressing to accentuate your body. You hide it too much, and it makes you look sloppy. You’re not fat, for God’s sake. You’re curvy and beautiful, Claire.”
Then, she stood and came to me. “Your hair, you never do anything with it—you hardly ever even dry it. You need a cut and a style. Maybe a few highlights.”
“Oh my God,” I screeched.
“I know what would work for you.”
“I don’t know, Jess.”
“I do. And who cares about Jake? Why not look good for yourself?” She picked up a handful of my loose brown hair and let it float down to my face. “You’re beautiful. Come on. Have a little fun while you’re young. Get out with me this weekend and we’ll get you some sexy outfits and a haircut.”
That made me hesitate. “You know I don’t have the money for that.”
“You will once you get your first paycheck for the work-study. You’re making twice as much now. I’ll spot you until then. How does that sound?”
I took a look at myself in the mirror and sighed. “Okay.” It was worth a shot, anyway.
9
Jake
“ C ome on , boys! We’re only down three! Get your head in the game!” Zack made it his duty to rev the team up like we needed any help. The first game of the season had been a nail-biter all the way through. We might have been exhausted, we might have been damned near wasted and filthy and half-dead, but we knew what was at stake.
The offensive line hit the field. We needed to move the ball all the way down from our own twenty-yard-line in less than a minute. It would take a miracle—but we had one of the best quarterbacks in the conference.
“Okay,” Max said, huddling. “They’ve been all over the passing game all day, so we run. Brad, it’s all you, brother.”
“I’ve got this.”
I crashed helmets with him, praying he had it. Losing the first game after winning the championship the year earlier would have crushed the school.
The roar of the Indiana Hoosiers’ crowd was almost too much to take. My ears rang with it, but I couldn’t wear earplugs on the field, or else I’d miss the calls.
Max called, “Hike!”
I snapped the ball, and threw all my weight behind, blocking not one but two defensive linemen from getting to him before he handed off to Brad. From the corner of my eye, I saw Brad take off.
“Yes!” I screamed shaking off the Indiana Hoosiers players and running behind my teammates as Brad ran out of bounds at the Indiana thirty. A fifty-yard run. I could’ve kissed him.
We huddled up, trying to run out the clock as much as possible while leaving time to score. Managing the clock was always something we tried to work on, but it was tough when we wanted to keep the momentum going. “Okay, boys. Thirty yards to go. I want to run a screen, here. They won’t expect a pass this close to the end zone.” He was probably right, I realized. Max almost never passed the ball when we were that close. The Indiana Hoosiers had nearly read our minds all day, so I knew they’d been paying attention. I hoped it worked in our favor.
We broke the huddle, getting in formation. I heard the frustrated grunts from the other players, knowing how desperate they
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