Chapter 11
"I assume you prayed for me?" Isabelle teased Rev.
She was back at school a few days later, and despite her fading cuts, she looked good as new. When she found out how her parents had resolved their problems and that she didn't have to move to California, her recovery went by even more quickly than expected. Especially when her father offered to get her a new car. For now, though, Isabelle teased Gerry about being her temporary chauffeur because he had insisted on driving her to school while she still couldn't drive.
"Every minute of every day," Rev assured with a smile. Suddenly, Ronnie ran up behind her, grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him.
"You're back!" he exclaimed, hugging her and twirling her in the air. He set her back down and felt a sense of comfort when he looked into her glittering-and alive-brown eyes.
"Yes, I am," she laughed and winked, "can't say that I missed you though." The warning bell shrilled throughout the building and echoed to the grounds outside, but the little group near the door lingered for moment to gather their things.
"Well, we better get going," Rev suggested, linking his arm through Isabelle's. She nodded in agreement and let Rev steer her towards the building.
"Tata, kiddies!" she called over her shoulder. She and Rev walked into the school and through the dispersing crowds of students and teachers in quiet solitude as much of the student body ran up to her to greet her a well recovery.
"You're quite popular nowadays," he joked after someone they didn't even know had approached Isabelle. She nodded earnestly and wiggled her eyebrows. Her silly smile slowly slipped away into a wry grin.
"I promise I won't ruin the celebration again when you guys win state." She paused. "But, you gotta win first, you see, so I'm not making any promises."
Rev laughed and nudged her. "Don't say that. Trust me, when the guys heard about what happened to you, they didn't even seem to care about football anymore. Especially Gerry-and when that boy forgets about football, then you know that something-or someone-is important." He looked down at her blushing face; she was obviously flattered by what he just said. "He really cares about you. Don't let what he did mislead you otherwise," he added.
"Huh?"
"The little fight between you two. You were distracting him from the team too much," he explained, "he would've lost his captain position if he hadn't regained his focus and concentration. Gerry freaked out and that's probably why he took drastic measures in trying to get everything back on track. He hated ignoring you, believe me, but he felt that there was no other alternative in trying to temporarily erase you from his memory."
She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. "Imagine that. . ."
"Where's Emma?"
It was lunch time at T.C. Williams, as Isabelle looked up from her seat to where Gerry was standing behind her. Since the weather gotten colder, all the students were crammed into the noisy, rambunctious cafeteria. The brown and cream room was lined with long tables in neat rows, with the lunch lines on one side and the vending machines on the other. It was a warm, stuffy room with the ovens in the kitchen going, the school's heating system on high, and the hundreds of bodies stuffed in the small area. A trace of that afternoon's lunch lingered in the air: soggy string beans, and mushy chicken nuggets.
Isabelle scooted over on the bench and patted the space for him to sit down. She looked around her table at the uneasy faces and then at Gerry's wry expression. She looked up at him questioningly as he answered
"We broke up after the game."
Her jaw dropped in shock. "Oh, Gerry, I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "How'd it go? How'd you do it?"
Gerry dropped his books on the floor, and kicked them under his seat before throwing his brown paper bagged lunch onto the table. He straddled the bench facing Isabelle, and started on his lunch, all the while avoiding her eyes. "It didn't go so bad, actually. We kind of both mutually agreed that the relationship wasn't going anywhere; the feeling wasn't there anymore. She and I agreed that we should break it off while we still wanna be friends."
"Oh, yeah. Well, I'm glad that you two are still friends." When they noticed that the rest of their friends were trying to ignore them by holding up their own discussion, Gerry and Isabelle tuned in on the current conversation at the table-football, naturally-when a dark shadow fell on Isabelle. She turned around and found Ray standing before her.
"Hey, Isabelle," he started, his voice obviously showing how uncomfortable he was. He glanced at her companions and was more than aware of their penetrating death stares; the hostilities between Ray and the team still hadn't been resolved. They stopped eating, putting their food down and setting aside their drinks, waiting to hear what their former teammate had to say now. The stuffiness of the cafeteria seemed to choke Ray up as no words were coming out of his mouth. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling nervous around them; it's not like he had before. Perhaps, it was because nobody seemed to be on his side anymore. Gerry had left him when they fought after their game with Groveton, and Isabelle had ignored him since their spat in the parking lot.
Ray slowly met Gerry's hard stare as he said, "Well? What is it?"
Isabelle elbowed Gerry and smiled up at Ray. "Is there something on your mind, Ray?"
He took a deep breath and quickly said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what went on between us and that I'm glad you got better."
"Thanks," she said sincerely. When he turned to walk away, Isabelle smiled at her friends. They all seemed curious as to why she was being so friendly to someone who they didn't like. They couldn't possibly see what reason she had to be nice to Ray, and they stared at her, awaiting an answer. She simply grinned and said, "Okay, so you guys were explaining to me about this line of scrimmage thing. . ."
"So, you're the famous Isabelle Brooke. You've been causing quite a stir among my boys lately," Coach Boone smiled, shaking her hand. She laughed, partially at the coach's remark and at Sheryl who was standing before her, screaming up a passion at the team as they practiced. Isabelle had trekked from the school library to the football field, and decided to say hello to the coaches and Sheryl, while the team was finishing their water break and starting to meet in a huddle. Her cheeks were rosy and her nose was pink from her frigid stroll, and she buried her hands in her navy wool jacket and tightened her colorful scarf.
"And you must be the Coach Boone I've heard so much about. Nice to meet you."
He nodded at her and excused himself to turn to his team, as Coach Yoast spoke up. "How are you feeling, Isabelle?"
"Great," she beamed. "My wrist is a little sore, as well as a few scratches and bruises, but I'm fine." She smiled at him and added, "I just want to tell you that I really appreciate that you were with my mom through this whole mess. It means a lot to me that you care." Coach Yoast smiled at her, and then swiftly turned his eyes back on the team as he said,
"Well, your mother's a good friend of mine."
Isabelle stood quietly with Sheryl, and felt slightly awkward; as if she were imposing on them. She slipped back to the bleachers next to the field and climbed up to sit down to watch her friends throughout the remainder of practice. She picked out Gerry from the line up and saw him stand up a bit to wave to her. She laughed and waved back. Well, I guess, she thought, being good friends with the guy that you're in love with is better than nothing at all. Wait. In love? Brooke, are you nuts? She knit her eyebrows together and rubbed her hands for extra warmth. "You just got out of a coma; you're still not back 100%," she reasoned with herself. Besides, she thought, it's not like anything'll actually happen.
"Bertier, quit showin' off and play football!" Coach Boone's thundering voice echoed through the stadium as Isabelle was hurled out of her daydream and back onto the football field. She smiled inwardly as Gerry apologized heatedly and returned to his position.
"Well," she murmured, "it can't hurt too much to think your friend looks real good-especially in a uniform."
"Aw, you ain't gotta show off for Isabelle," Julius teased his friend. Practice had just ended and as the rest of the team hustled into the locker rooms, Gerry and a few of his friends headed towards the bleachers where Isabelle was impatiently waiting for them. They took their time getting to the edge of the field, with their helmets swinging in their hands. Grass and mud caked their white practice uniforms, and dirt was smudged on their faces and hands and legs. With the cool night air settled upon Alexandria, their perspiration soaked bodies were starting to dry off, with only a thin film left for the setting sun to glint off of.
"Yeah, tryin' to look all tough for her," Blue said with a smile, nudging his friend. Gerry raised an eyebrow and shoved him back, sending his friend tumbling down. A little humiliated, Blue popped right back up with a huff, and indignantly pretended to brush his uniform off. "See? You still tryin' to show off for Isabelle."
Gerry scratched his head and looked down, a small smile on his face. "Ha, ha, very funny, fellas. Can't a guy mess up at practice once in a while?"
"Sure," Julius agreed, "it's just a little suspicious that you, Mr. High and Mighty Perfectionist, happen to screw up when a certain girl comes to practice." He pointedly looked up ahead to where Isabelle was yelling in vain for them to quicken their pace.
Gerry playfully shoved his friend. "Don't even go there."
"Yeah," Sunshine smiled, putting an arm around Gerry, "he's mine."
A round of laughter went around as they approached the bleachers. Isabelle stood up on one of the risers, and greeted them, "Took you guys long enough to get here. I could've baked seven pies in the time it took you to get here."
"Oh, we're here now," Petey smiled. "So, what brings you out here to our frosty domain? You must be pretty cold by now."
"I am! But, Gerry asked me to meet him here after practice." She caught the band of athletes share knowing looks amongst each other and then smile mischievously at Gerry.
"Oh, okay. We'll see you guys later." Petey winked at Gerry before turning around to accompany his teammates to the locker room. As they left, Gerry took a few steps closer to Isabelle and smiled at her.
"Sorry about that," he apologized. He watched her hop down the bleachers and took her hand to help her as she jumped to the ground.
Isabelle laughed and dusted her pants off. "Thanks. But, why don't you go to the lockers first and clean up? I don't know if I can take you too seriously when you're covered in mud and you smell. I'll wait until you're finished and then you can tell me what ever your heart desires."
"Don't you have to be home?" he asked, as they walked over bare mud patches of the lumpy, bumpy football field. "It's getting pretty late."
She shrugged, and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. "I don't have to. Mom's not home right now, but I've got a test to study for. Don't worry; it's all right, I want to know what's on your mind."
He grinned down at her as they approached the locker room doors. "Thanks. I'll be out in a bit; I won't take too long. Meet me by my car, all right?" When he disappeared behind the solid wood doors, Isabelle pivoted on her heel and started walking to the parking lot.
She strolled along in complete solitude and took in a breath of the crisp air, grateful that she was alive to savor a clear night like this one. She was grateful that she could still laugh and talk with her friends, that she could stay in Alexandria, and that she was starting to find her place, here in a once strange world that had now become her home. Isabelle smiled with relief, glad that she found friends here. If she was miserable in Alexandria because she had no friends, and was given the option of going back to the familiar residence of California, Isabelle admitted that she would be very tempted to return, no matter how horrible her friends had been. At least she wouldn't have to start from scratch. Thank goodness it all worked out perfectly in the end, she thought.
Or did it? Despite his good intentions and her feelings for him, Gerry Bertier had created quiet a soap opera within her thoughts. He was a guy unlike any other she had met; he was so sweet, and smart, and funny, and they had so much in common. He was pretty darn cute, too, she recalled wistfully, when she first met him at the party. But, nothing was perfect. He more than caused a little drama here and there, but Isabelle still couldn't help but be drawn to him, and the fact that he had a girlfriend didn't stop a wonderful friendship from blossoming.
Of course the other guys were a huge part of the picture; especially Rev and Ronnie. She had developed a special sort of friendship with the two quarterbacks. Rev was the first person to reach a friendly hand out to her and Ronnie was quick to befriend his fellow Californian. Isabelle laughed when she thought of Julius, Petey, Alan, Blue, Louie; they were characters all right. No, she couldn't ever leave them and Alexandria to go back to Los Angeles.
Isabelle reached the parking lot and soon spotted Gerry coming from the opposite side, heading towards his Camaro, his belongings slung over his shoulder. He seemed lost in his thoughts as he distractedly unlocked his door and threw his things into the backseat.
Whatever he has to tell me must be important, Isabelle thought, quickening her pace. Maybe. . . I dunno, maybe it'll be good news.
"Look at you, all fresh and clean!"
Gerry grinned when he saw Isabelle approach him, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Overall, she seemed good as new from the accident, with only faint traces of bruising and cuts left behind. But, with the magic of make up, all that was reduced to a flawless complexion. Her once subdued chocolate eyes returned to their glittering glory as she gazed up at him, and he couldn't help but notice his racing heart and the knots in his stomach that were multiplying like mad. He wasn't even this nervous before a game, and here he was, just talking to Isabelle, about to go crazy with all the butterflies rushing around inside of him and the pounding in his chest.
He relentlessly thought and rehearsed what he was going to do and say that night, but he couldn't even recollect the slightest word he planned right now. His mind went blank and his head felt fuzzy, when he saw Julius wave to him from his car. He waved back and was shaken from his frenzied thoughts as he looked around the almost bare parking lot. The Coaches' cars and trucks were still there, sitting in a neat little row, not far from their offices.
Do it, Gerry ordered himself. Don't think, just go with it. Isabelle's not cruel; she won't be harsh about it if she doesn't feel the same way. He opened his mouth and stopped, hesitating. If you don't do it now, you'll lose all your nerve, never try again, and you'll never know anything. You owe it to yourself to at least find out if. . . if she could ever return your feelings.
"Are you all right, Gerry?" Isabelle asked, searching his jumpy, nervous eyes. He nodded briskly and took a deep breath, as his heartbeat seemed to roar in his ears. I'm going have a heart attack before sound even comes out of my mouth, he thought.
"Isabelle, " he started slowly, hoping to gather courage along with momentum. "There's something that I have to tell you and if I don't do it, I'll probably regret it." She stared at him curiously and nodded for him to go on. "Do you remember that first night we met?" She nodded again. "Remember the next day when you accused me of leading you on?" A nod. Okay, Bertier, here we are. This is it; don't blow it. He took in another deep breath and looked away when he said, "Well, I wasn't leading you on." He looked down into her slightly confused face.
"You weren't?" she asked. "I don't understand."
All the panic and apprehension that was built up inside of him, suddenly and surprisingly melted slowly away as he smiled softly at her, his eyes warm and hopeful. He said gently, "I've had feelings for you since the day I met you. I don't know why I tried to hide them and I'm sorry I did. I thought that we could just be friends, but after what happened, I can't accept that anymore. My feelings for you run deeper than that."
He saw her eyes crinkle in the moonlight and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Just by the look on her face, Gerry could tell that she felt the same way.
He put his arms around her waist and felt a warm, tingling feeling settle upon his entire body. He hadn't fully realized what an impact Isabelle would have on him, until her smiling face seemed to make his world little bit brighter and a little bit better; he was ecstatic.
Isabelle felt like she was dreaming and half expected Gerry to stop the charade and say it was all a gag, or for her mother's voice to filter into her dream, commanding Isabelle to wake up and that she was late for school. None of these things happened and the only words that were spoken to her were the words Gerry spoke, telling her how he felt.
"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say those words," she whispered. Her arms slid up around his neck as he bent down and softly rested his lips on hers in a sweet kiss that they've waited for, for so long.
"Daddy, look! Look!" Sheryl exclaimed, as she perched on a chair and stared out the window of her father's office. A big smile spread over her face as she excitedly called for her father's attention. "Look, Daddy!"
"Not now, Sheryl," he said distractedly, as he continued to absorb himself in his paperwork.
"Daddy," she said calmly, yet impatiently. "Please, *just look*!" She glanced over at where Coach Boone was drowning himself in watching old tapes of their games and taking notes. "You better have a look, too, Coach Boone," she added.
Distractedly, he turned off the television and joined Coach Yoast as they walked to the window to see what was so blessed important. They looked out and their jaws dropped wide with shock, and saw Gerry and Isabelle wrapped tightly in each other's arms, kissing in the moonlit parking lot.
"Well, I'll be damned," Coach Boone murmured.
Coach Yoast was still speechless.
Sheryl smiled to herself and said, "Well, it's about time."
"I assume you prayed for me?" Isabelle teased Rev.
She was back at school a few days later, and despite her fading cuts, she looked good as new. When she found out how her parents had resolved their problems and that she didn't have to move to California, her recovery went by even more quickly than expected. Especially when her father offered to get her a new car. For now, though, Isabelle teased Gerry about being her temporary chauffeur because he had insisted on driving her to school while she still couldn't drive.
"Every minute of every day," Rev assured with a smile. Suddenly, Ronnie ran up behind her, grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him.
"You're back!" he exclaimed, hugging her and twirling her in the air. He set her back down and felt a sense of comfort when he looked into her glittering-and alive-brown eyes.
"Yes, I am," she laughed and winked, "can't say that I missed you though." The warning bell shrilled throughout the building and echoed to the grounds outside, but the little group near the door lingered for moment to gather their things.
"Well, we better get going," Rev suggested, linking his arm through Isabelle's. She nodded in agreement and let Rev steer her towards the building.
"Tata, kiddies!" she called over her shoulder. She and Rev walked into the school and through the dispersing crowds of students and teachers in quiet solitude as much of the student body ran up to her to greet her a well recovery.
"You're quite popular nowadays," he joked after someone they didn't even know had approached Isabelle. She nodded earnestly and wiggled her eyebrows. Her silly smile slowly slipped away into a wry grin.
"I promise I won't ruin the celebration again when you guys win state." She paused. "But, you gotta win first, you see, so I'm not making any promises."
Rev laughed and nudged her. "Don't say that. Trust me, when the guys heard about what happened to you, they didn't even seem to care about football anymore. Especially Gerry-and when that boy forgets about football, then you know that something-or someone-is important." He looked down at her blushing face; she was obviously flattered by what he just said. "He really cares about you. Don't let what he did mislead you otherwise," he added.
"Huh?"
"The little fight between you two. You were distracting him from the team too much," he explained, "he would've lost his captain position if he hadn't regained his focus and concentration. Gerry freaked out and that's probably why he took drastic measures in trying to get everything back on track. He hated ignoring you, believe me, but he felt that there was no other alternative in trying to temporarily erase you from his memory."
She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. "Imagine that. . ."
"Where's Emma?"
It was lunch time at T.C. Williams, as Isabelle looked up from her seat to where Gerry was standing behind her. Since the weather gotten colder, all the students were crammed into the noisy, rambunctious cafeteria. The brown and cream room was lined with long tables in neat rows, with the lunch lines on one side and the vending machines on the other. It was a warm, stuffy room with the ovens in the kitchen going, the school's heating system on high, and the hundreds of bodies stuffed in the small area. A trace of that afternoon's lunch lingered in the air: soggy string beans, and mushy chicken nuggets.
Isabelle scooted over on the bench and patted the space for him to sit down. She looked around her table at the uneasy faces and then at Gerry's wry expression. She looked up at him questioningly as he answered
"We broke up after the game."
Her jaw dropped in shock. "Oh, Gerry, I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "How'd it go? How'd you do it?"
Gerry dropped his books on the floor, and kicked them under his seat before throwing his brown paper bagged lunch onto the table. He straddled the bench facing Isabelle, and started on his lunch, all the while avoiding her eyes. "It didn't go so bad, actually. We kind of both mutually agreed that the relationship wasn't going anywhere; the feeling wasn't there anymore. She and I agreed that we should break it off while we still wanna be friends."
"Oh, yeah. Well, I'm glad that you two are still friends." When they noticed that the rest of their friends were trying to ignore them by holding up their own discussion, Gerry and Isabelle tuned in on the current conversation at the table-football, naturally-when a dark shadow fell on Isabelle. She turned around and found Ray standing before her.
"Hey, Isabelle," he started, his voice obviously showing how uncomfortable he was. He glanced at her companions and was more than aware of their penetrating death stares; the hostilities between Ray and the team still hadn't been resolved. They stopped eating, putting their food down and setting aside their drinks, waiting to hear what their former teammate had to say now. The stuffiness of the cafeteria seemed to choke Ray up as no words were coming out of his mouth. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling nervous around them; it's not like he had before. Perhaps, it was because nobody seemed to be on his side anymore. Gerry had left him when they fought after their game with Groveton, and Isabelle had ignored him since their spat in the parking lot.
Ray slowly met Gerry's hard stare as he said, "Well? What is it?"
Isabelle elbowed Gerry and smiled up at Ray. "Is there something on your mind, Ray?"
He took a deep breath and quickly said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what went on between us and that I'm glad you got better."
"Thanks," she said sincerely. When he turned to walk away, Isabelle smiled at her friends. They all seemed curious as to why she was being so friendly to someone who they didn't like. They couldn't possibly see what reason she had to be nice to Ray, and they stared at her, awaiting an answer. She simply grinned and said, "Okay, so you guys were explaining to me about this line of scrimmage thing. . ."
"So, you're the famous Isabelle Brooke. You've been causing quite a stir among my boys lately," Coach Boone smiled, shaking her hand. She laughed, partially at the coach's remark and at Sheryl who was standing before her, screaming up a passion at the team as they practiced. Isabelle had trekked from the school library to the football field, and decided to say hello to the coaches and Sheryl, while the team was finishing their water break and starting to meet in a huddle. Her cheeks were rosy and her nose was pink from her frigid stroll, and she buried her hands in her navy wool jacket and tightened her colorful scarf.
"And you must be the Coach Boone I've heard so much about. Nice to meet you."
He nodded at her and excused himself to turn to his team, as Coach Yoast spoke up. "How are you feeling, Isabelle?"
"Great," she beamed. "My wrist is a little sore, as well as a few scratches and bruises, but I'm fine." She smiled at him and added, "I just want to tell you that I really appreciate that you were with my mom through this whole mess. It means a lot to me that you care." Coach Yoast smiled at her, and then swiftly turned his eyes back on the team as he said,
"Well, your mother's a good friend of mine."
Isabelle stood quietly with Sheryl, and felt slightly awkward; as if she were imposing on them. She slipped back to the bleachers next to the field and climbed up to sit down to watch her friends throughout the remainder of practice. She picked out Gerry from the line up and saw him stand up a bit to wave to her. She laughed and waved back. Well, I guess, she thought, being good friends with the guy that you're in love with is better than nothing at all. Wait. In love? Brooke, are you nuts? She knit her eyebrows together and rubbed her hands for extra warmth. "You just got out of a coma; you're still not back 100%," she reasoned with herself. Besides, she thought, it's not like anything'll actually happen.
"Bertier, quit showin' off and play football!" Coach Boone's thundering voice echoed through the stadium as Isabelle was hurled out of her daydream and back onto the football field. She smiled inwardly as Gerry apologized heatedly and returned to his position.
"Well," she murmured, "it can't hurt too much to think your friend looks real good-especially in a uniform."
"Aw, you ain't gotta show off for Isabelle," Julius teased his friend. Practice had just ended and as the rest of the team hustled into the locker rooms, Gerry and a few of his friends headed towards the bleachers where Isabelle was impatiently waiting for them. They took their time getting to the edge of the field, with their helmets swinging in their hands. Grass and mud caked their white practice uniforms, and dirt was smudged on their faces and hands and legs. With the cool night air settled upon Alexandria, their perspiration soaked bodies were starting to dry off, with only a thin film left for the setting sun to glint off of.
"Yeah, tryin' to look all tough for her," Blue said with a smile, nudging his friend. Gerry raised an eyebrow and shoved him back, sending his friend tumbling down. A little humiliated, Blue popped right back up with a huff, and indignantly pretended to brush his uniform off. "See? You still tryin' to show off for Isabelle."
Gerry scratched his head and looked down, a small smile on his face. "Ha, ha, very funny, fellas. Can't a guy mess up at practice once in a while?"
"Sure," Julius agreed, "it's just a little suspicious that you, Mr. High and Mighty Perfectionist, happen to screw up when a certain girl comes to practice." He pointedly looked up ahead to where Isabelle was yelling in vain for them to quicken their pace.
Gerry playfully shoved his friend. "Don't even go there."
"Yeah," Sunshine smiled, putting an arm around Gerry, "he's mine."
A round of laughter went around as they approached the bleachers. Isabelle stood up on one of the risers, and greeted them, "Took you guys long enough to get here. I could've baked seven pies in the time it took you to get here."
"Oh, we're here now," Petey smiled. "So, what brings you out here to our frosty domain? You must be pretty cold by now."
"I am! But, Gerry asked me to meet him here after practice." She caught the band of athletes share knowing looks amongst each other and then smile mischievously at Gerry.
"Oh, okay. We'll see you guys later." Petey winked at Gerry before turning around to accompany his teammates to the locker room. As they left, Gerry took a few steps closer to Isabelle and smiled at her.
"Sorry about that," he apologized. He watched her hop down the bleachers and took her hand to help her as she jumped to the ground.
Isabelle laughed and dusted her pants off. "Thanks. But, why don't you go to the lockers first and clean up? I don't know if I can take you too seriously when you're covered in mud and you smell. I'll wait until you're finished and then you can tell me what ever your heart desires."
"Don't you have to be home?" he asked, as they walked over bare mud patches of the lumpy, bumpy football field. "It's getting pretty late."
She shrugged, and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. "I don't have to. Mom's not home right now, but I've got a test to study for. Don't worry; it's all right, I want to know what's on your mind."
He grinned down at her as they approached the locker room doors. "Thanks. I'll be out in a bit; I won't take too long. Meet me by my car, all right?" When he disappeared behind the solid wood doors, Isabelle pivoted on her heel and started walking to the parking lot.
She strolled along in complete solitude and took in a breath of the crisp air, grateful that she was alive to savor a clear night like this one. She was grateful that she could still laugh and talk with her friends, that she could stay in Alexandria, and that she was starting to find her place, here in a once strange world that had now become her home. Isabelle smiled with relief, glad that she found friends here. If she was miserable in Alexandria because she had no friends, and was given the option of going back to the familiar residence of California, Isabelle admitted that she would be very tempted to return, no matter how horrible her friends had been. At least she wouldn't have to start from scratch. Thank goodness it all worked out perfectly in the end, she thought.
Or did it? Despite his good intentions and her feelings for him, Gerry Bertier had created quiet a soap opera within her thoughts. He was a guy unlike any other she had met; he was so sweet, and smart, and funny, and they had so much in common. He was pretty darn cute, too, she recalled wistfully, when she first met him at the party. But, nothing was perfect. He more than caused a little drama here and there, but Isabelle still couldn't help but be drawn to him, and the fact that he had a girlfriend didn't stop a wonderful friendship from blossoming.
Of course the other guys were a huge part of the picture; especially Rev and Ronnie. She had developed a special sort of friendship with the two quarterbacks. Rev was the first person to reach a friendly hand out to her and Ronnie was quick to befriend his fellow Californian. Isabelle laughed when she thought of Julius, Petey, Alan, Blue, Louie; they were characters all right. No, she couldn't ever leave them and Alexandria to go back to Los Angeles.
Isabelle reached the parking lot and soon spotted Gerry coming from the opposite side, heading towards his Camaro, his belongings slung over his shoulder. He seemed lost in his thoughts as he distractedly unlocked his door and threw his things into the backseat.
Whatever he has to tell me must be important, Isabelle thought, quickening her pace. Maybe. . . I dunno, maybe it'll be good news.
"Look at you, all fresh and clean!"
Gerry grinned when he saw Isabelle approach him, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Overall, she seemed good as new from the accident, with only faint traces of bruising and cuts left behind. But, with the magic of make up, all that was reduced to a flawless complexion. Her once subdued chocolate eyes returned to their glittering glory as she gazed up at him, and he couldn't help but notice his racing heart and the knots in his stomach that were multiplying like mad. He wasn't even this nervous before a game, and here he was, just talking to Isabelle, about to go crazy with all the butterflies rushing around inside of him and the pounding in his chest.
He relentlessly thought and rehearsed what he was going to do and say that night, but he couldn't even recollect the slightest word he planned right now. His mind went blank and his head felt fuzzy, when he saw Julius wave to him from his car. He waved back and was shaken from his frenzied thoughts as he looked around the almost bare parking lot. The Coaches' cars and trucks were still there, sitting in a neat little row, not far from their offices.
Do it, Gerry ordered himself. Don't think, just go with it. Isabelle's not cruel; she won't be harsh about it if she doesn't feel the same way. He opened his mouth and stopped, hesitating. If you don't do it now, you'll lose all your nerve, never try again, and you'll never know anything. You owe it to yourself to at least find out if. . . if she could ever return your feelings.
"Are you all right, Gerry?" Isabelle asked, searching his jumpy, nervous eyes. He nodded briskly and took a deep breath, as his heartbeat seemed to roar in his ears. I'm going have a heart attack before sound even comes out of my mouth, he thought.
"Isabelle, " he started slowly, hoping to gather courage along with momentum. "There's something that I have to tell you and if I don't do it, I'll probably regret it." She stared at him curiously and nodded for him to go on. "Do you remember that first night we met?" She nodded again. "Remember the next day when you accused me of leading you on?" A nod. Okay, Bertier, here we are. This is it; don't blow it. He took in another deep breath and looked away when he said, "Well, I wasn't leading you on." He looked down into her slightly confused face.
"You weren't?" she asked. "I don't understand."
All the panic and apprehension that was built up inside of him, suddenly and surprisingly melted slowly away as he smiled softly at her, his eyes warm and hopeful. He said gently, "I've had feelings for you since the day I met you. I don't know why I tried to hide them and I'm sorry I did. I thought that we could just be friends, but after what happened, I can't accept that anymore. My feelings for you run deeper than that."
He saw her eyes crinkle in the moonlight and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Just by the look on her face, Gerry could tell that she felt the same way.
He put his arms around her waist and felt a warm, tingling feeling settle upon his entire body. He hadn't fully realized what an impact Isabelle would have on him, until her smiling face seemed to make his world little bit brighter and a little bit better; he was ecstatic.
Isabelle felt like she was dreaming and half expected Gerry to stop the charade and say it was all a gag, or for her mother's voice to filter into her dream, commanding Isabelle to wake up and that she was late for school. None of these things happened and the only words that were spoken to her were the words Gerry spoke, telling her how he felt.
"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say those words," she whispered. Her arms slid up around his neck as he bent down and softly rested his lips on hers in a sweet kiss that they've waited for, for so long.
"Daddy, look! Look!" Sheryl exclaimed, as she perched on a chair and stared out the window of her father's office. A big smile spread over her face as she excitedly called for her father's attention. "Look, Daddy!"
"Not now, Sheryl," he said distractedly, as he continued to absorb himself in his paperwork.
"Daddy," she said calmly, yet impatiently. "Please, *just look*!" She glanced over at where Coach Boone was drowning himself in watching old tapes of their games and taking notes. "You better have a look, too, Coach Boone," she added.
Distractedly, he turned off the television and joined Coach Yoast as they walked to the window to see what was so blessed important. They looked out and their jaws dropped wide with shock, and saw Gerry and Isabelle wrapped tightly in each other's arms, kissing in the moonlit parking lot.
"Well, I'll be damned," Coach Boone murmured.
Coach Yoast was still speechless.
Sheryl smiled to herself and said, "Well, it's about time."
