I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing loudly. Groggily, I realized that the ring tone wasn't my alarm, and perked up when I saw "Dad" flashing across the front screen.
"Dad!" I garbled in an embarrassing morning-voice.
"I wake you up, kiddo?" he asked. "Didn't even realize the time."
"No," I lied. "I was waking up anyway." I glanced at the clock, squinting through one opened eye. It was only five o'clock. I was used to Dad calling at all hours of the day or night - he would check in with me in between flights and I was happy to hear his voice - it calmed my nerves down. "How was your flight? Where are you?"
"Salt Lake City - lots of turbulence. We are going to be grounded a couple days I think."
"Sucks for you. Sorry to hear that."
"No big deal. But I wanted to tell you to knock 'em dead at today's game. I'm proud of you."
A smile crept ear to ear before it was interrupted by an involuntary yawn. "Thanks, Dad. Can't wait to see you!"
"You too, kid. I'll see you soon."
After the line went dead, I was wide awake. Sighing loudly, I got out of bed and rolled up the sheet and mattress cover. Wouldn't be needing them again. I showered quickly and packed up that stuff too. I stuffed my pajamas into a duffel bag after I had changed into my uniform. When I was done packing, everything was in a box or bag except for an outfit I was taking with me to change into. How depressing! My whole life for the past four years, all boxed up.
Eventually, I heard Hollie and Sadie bumbling around in their rooms and not long after, we left for our pre-game breakfast. Libby's Cafe was right down the street from the stadium, and after a quick, light breakfast, we piled into my truck and drove to the field. Last time for that too.
There we played the Washington State Cougars, our rivals. The bright, and already hot June morning was a welcomed change from the rainy storms we were used to playing through and Sadie had a fantastic game, scoring six goals on her own. Hollie stopped almost every shot, and I held my own for the most part at center fullback. Despite the intensity of the game, it seemed to all go by in slow motion. I was happy for it - I never wanted the game to end.
But, all to soon, it did.
After the referee blew the final whistle, a long bittersweet sound, Hollie ran out of the goal and nearly trampled me to get to midfield where everyone was celebrating. Sadie was overcome with emotion as she ran at me full tilt and jumped into my arms. Hollie sandwiched her between us with a thud as we celebrated in the middle of the rest of our team.
After we shook hands with the Cougar line-up, Sadie, Hollie and I stood there, arms around each other, taking one last look at the stadium, the people in the stands wearing purple and gold, our team standing behind us, and each other. We stepped off the field that the three of us had met on four years previous, our cheeks red from the running, our eyes red from the moment.
We drove home on an endorphin high, back up the hill, through the empty campus, and down our residential street. The Greek system stood at the end of the block, but soon the big mansions gave way to the smaller, private rentals. I drove carefully through here, the sidewalks were littered with couches, TVs and other furniture too big for students to take home and some of it spilled into the road. Not to mention the poorly or drunkenly parallel parked cars dotting the street.
Sadie was going to Europe with Andrew that summer and had to send most of her stuff home to San Diego. Hollie too, was leaving the state. She was planning on moving home, to Portland, Maine and had been accepted to the Teachers For America program there. Her parents had come three weeks back to take most of her stuff for her. All she had was her soccer stuff and a few bags.
Luckily, the girl with the most stuff also had the biggest car - and the closest place to go. And as for my fantastic plans, I was the only one without any. Similar to most unemployed college graduates, I was taking advantage of my only sensible option, I was moving home. Well, not really home, but the closest thing I had.
Eli and I grew up in Edmonds, Washington, a town just five minutes north of Seattle. When Eli and I were in high school, Dad inherited a piece of property just across the water from Edmonds in a place called Port Ludlow. He was annoyingly vague about how he had come into owning the house at first, but I since had found out it had belonged to his father, our Grandpa Henry who had passed away several years before. Dad had been awarded the property some time back, but wasn’t able to do anything with it with two young kids, but I graduated from high school and had settled into the house that I was presently moving out of, Dad sold our and moved across the water.
Dad entered a retirement a short time later and gave his full attention to restoring the property that was a block away from the Puget Sound beach. The house had needed a lot of work, but it was already a fantastic summer house or cabin. It had two levels, three bedrooms and a lot of land. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, the neighborhood full of either retirees or summer cottages - not really a place to live and work but a great place for beach walks, kayaking, and hikes through the woods.
After most of the construction work was done, Dad went back to work. I don’t think he could handle the silence. Now he is part-time, as he calls it. It works out well for him - one weekend to fish, watch a baseball game, do a project, and the next weekend he flies out on a job. I visited every now and then, mostly in the summer, and it was a great place to go even when Dad was gone. I became popular with the bonfire-on-the-beach crowd pretty quickly, but had only ever taken Hollie, Sadie and our good friends Brody, Keith and Julian. (Andrew too, but only out of obligation.) I had never been there for an extended period of time, though, since there was absolutely nothing up there to entertain friends that were used to the city. Even if I had been by myself, I always either had homework, soccer or work to get back too. This was going to be an adventure alright. A long, boring adventure.
I would be moving into the house tomorrow. Hollie, Sadie, and the boys were coming for a last night to sit out on the beach, have a beer, and say good-bye. They were athletes like us, but were football players. Having already mentioned that I have to move alone, I had a dual motive for inviting the boys.
That Friday, we made it out of our house with ten minutes to spare before a late check-out fee. I handed our landlord my keys, his greedy eyes lusting for the extra $250.00. Too bad, jerk.
I piled into the completely overloaded Bronco, Hollie into her car, and Sadie and Andrew into his truck. We caravanned to the next block over where the boys were already waiting. Brody was driving his open Jeep with Keith in the passenger seat talking on his cell phone. Julian was in the back seat and when he saw us approaching, he grabbed the crossbar and stood up.
"Are we finally ready to go!?" He yelled, holding his heavily tattooed arms out.
"Put your seatbelt on JT!" yelled Hollie from behind me. They had a thing going on.
We drove the six or so miles to the ferry terminal , and promptly got stuck in an hour long ferry wait.
"I thought we would make this ferry," I groaned to Hollie.
Whenever we took separate cars to Dad’s, we would stay in our own cars and keep each other company on our cell phones. Pathetic I know.
Today though, Keith, JT, and Brody had other ideas. They brought out a football and coerced us into playing catch. I had my tailgate down so we had space to sit when we gave up playing with them and were content to watch the boys precariously throw the ball between parked cars, the drivers watching nervously.
Thirty or so minutes into their rowdy game, a little boy came along, tugging on the bag of Brody’s t-shirt.
"Aren’t you Brody Kelley, mister?"
"That’s me, man. What’s your name?"
"Peter Harrison. Would you autograph my football?" Ugh. The kid was star struck.
"Brody’s signing autographs again," Sadie mumbled.
"Well, he’s famous," I said, flatly.
"Isn’t it a shame that only football and basketball get recognition from fans?" sighed Hollie.
"It is," I agreed. "I mean, we at least win our games." I grabbed my soccer ball that had somehow remained unburied and juggled it before passing to Hollie. We played around until the ferry whistle signaled us to return to our cars.
JT, Brody, and Keith said goodbye to Peter and the swarm of kids that had come to play catch, and they went running back to their parents, Peter’s face beaming as he held out the autographed ball. It really was kind of sweet but it was weird to be friends with someone who got treated like a famous person. I felt like saying, "You idiots, he’s a regular kid! He cheats off my history exams and watches cartoons!"
I sighed deeply through my nose. Let him have his fifteen minutes of fame I guess. I laughed to myself as the policeman waved me forward and I boarded the ferry.
I was one of the first cars aboard, so I pulled straight ahead and got a great spot right up front. The boys stayed in the car this time - even though it was the middle of June and was almost 80 degrees and sunny out, it wasn‘t Maui - the ferry was freezing with the wind chill factor. My window was down anyway. I didn’t have any air conditioning in this truck.
I cackled loudly, startling a ferry employee, when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw all three boys bobbing and singing along to Katy Perry’s "I Kissed A Girl" on the radio. I called Hollie.
"Do you see what’s happening behind us here?"
"Never mind them, do you see this hot ferry guy checking you out up here? Wink at him!!!" she laughed.
"Oh shut it, Gibson. Hottie-ferry-guy is an oxymoron. And besides, I don‘t date ferry workers, construction workers, or any kind of stereotypical creepers," I argued.
"You are going to dry up if you refuse to date," Hollie chimed in my ear as we continued to study the poor fool outside our cars.
"Already happened I think. I like my independence."
"What kind of 22 year old are you?" she laughed.
"The old, dried up kind I guess. I’ll get my knitting out, fill up my bowl of prunes and turn on Antique Road Show. Take me to my rocker."
"Don’t be dramatic."
"I’m not! I’m just not dating until I get married," I laughed, only half joking.
"That’s just wrong," she said. "Ridiculously wrong."
It was true though. Sadie had been dating Andrew since high school. Hollie is tall, blond, blue eyed and outgoing so it wouldn't have mattered if she was dumb as a stump, she would still have had a male following. I was the only one that absolutely never had guys over. For the purpose of dating at least.
I opened the mirror on the visor and checked its reflection. I wiped the smudged mascara out from under my green eyes and pressed on a bit of lip balm to distract myself from the conversation. My skin was tan from being outside so much, but I had a hideous shin-guard tan line as the price to pay. My brown hair was, at the moment, long and straight, pulled into a low ponytail that hung almost to my mid back.
I don’t know, boys like me sometimes. I get flirted with every once in a while - I just never have met the person worth the trouble. Isn’t it okay to not date the four years in college when you are supposed to experiment and go wild without parental supervision? Seriously, whatever happened to a moral code?
If I'm being honest, I was usually too busy choking on my fear to ever pursue something as far as dating someone exclusively, but I also had other legitimate things on my plate, other things that seemed more important. It wasn’t to say I never felt lonely - especially when I had two roommates constantly surrounded by their own male companions. The pros just never outweighed the cons is all.
Luckily for me, I had automatic friends early on. Lots of them. And that meant early lessons to be learned.
Freshman year, recruited student-athletes huddle together like gazelles in front of a pride of lions. Because of this, by default, I was almost always invited to the "cool-kid-college-parties."
Freshman 101: learn to take it easy with the automatic friends. I learned this, but unfortunately not early enough. It was so long ago now, that I almost feel like it wasn't actually me, but... it definitely was.
The first couple of months of college, I went nuts. I drank too much and ended up making out with the nearest random dude. But what felt normal or exciting for most of my "automatic friends," felt gross and sleazy to me. I always felt so unlike myself, like I was trying to live up to something I didn’t even really want to be.
It took an experience waking up next to someone I barely knew to snap me back into my own moral playbook for good. Nothing serious had even happened that night and still, it turned me off the party scene for good.
Nope, something would happen when it happened, and before it did, I would focus on other things.
"Lana, you still there?" Hollie was still on the phone.
"Oh Hol, sorry! I was trying to justify my pathetic relationship history to myself."
"Always time for improvement, young grasshopper. JT says Brody’s still got the hots for you," she said with a smirk. "And look at it this way, you still have one night left to make something of it!"
"He sure has an odd way of showing it," I sighed. "And yuck, Hollie. Yuck."
"He’s the quarterback of the football team, what do you expect?"
"I expect to not ever date him and that’s that," I growled loudly into the receiver as the boat horn signaled the arrival into the Kingston terminal.
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