As expected, the Thomas-Brewer house is in utter chaos on Friday evening when I walk in the front door. I don't even bother knocking. I doubt anyone would hear me. Emily Michelle nearly crashes into me on her bike, which she's riding around the foyer. Her training wheels are a bit unbalanced and so the bike tilts slightly to the left. David Michael runs past me into the kitchen with a diaper on his head. Somewhere, Shannon (the dog, not me) is barking like crazy and someone - Elizabeth? - is shouting about socks.
Basically, all is normal here.
"Hello!" I call up the stairs. "Kristy! It's Shannon!"
Kristy bounds down the stairs. She's wearing jeans and a SDS sweatshirt, just like me. "I'm so glad you're here!" she cries. "Now we can leave! Rick is driving us nuts! If I have to hear one more time about how amazing and gorgeous Cokie Mason is, I am going to puke!" Kristy clutches her throat and pretends to gag. Rick Jones is Charlie Thomas' roommate at Central Connecticut. They grew up together here in Stoneybrook. Rick has dated Cokie Mason since our sophomore year. Since Rick's parents moved to Indiana last year, he stays with the Thomas-Brewers when he comes into town. The few times Cokie has shown up at the house, Kristy's nearly had a coronary.
"Charlie and Rick are already here?" I reply.
"Yeah, they're in the game room with Abby and Anna. You missed it - Rick and Abby held David Michael down and Charlie taped one of Amy's diapers over his head. It was pretty funny," Kristy laughs.
"Wait - Anna's upstairs?" I ask, confused. "Anna Stevenson?" This morning, Abby told us Anna was for sure not coming.
Kristy holds out her arms and raises her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know. Charlie and Rick picked her up on their way through New Haven. Even Abby was surprised when she walked in."
What is going on?
"Mrs. Stevenson doesn't know Anna's here," Kristy continues. "She's still at work, of course. Apparently, Anna intends to hide from her all weekend." Kristy shrugs again, letting me know she's as clueless as I am. "Oh, yeah, Janet's looking for you. She's been pestering me for half an hour, so please go talk to her. I think she's in the kitchen." Kristy starts back up the stairs. "I'll go get everyone!" she calls down to me.
I watch Kristy rush upstairs, then disappear around a corner. I turn slowly toward the kitchen and walk as if heading to me execution. After last night, I pushed Janet from my thoughts, attempting to forget what she saw and what it could mean for me. I haven't rehearsed anything to say, neither the truth nor a clever lie.
Janet's alone in the kitchen, chopping celery. "What are you doing?" I ask, as casually as possible, leaning against the counter.
"Elizabeth told me to get Emily Michelle's dinner ready. She's staying home with Nannie."
"Where's Amy?"
"At home. Sara Hill's baby-sitting," she answers, then stares at me a moment. Those buggy eyes are kind of creepy. Janet drops the knife and pushes me into the walk-in pantry, pulling the door shut behind us. "Are you insane?" she demands. "Dating a thirty year old man?"
"He's not thirty. He's twenty-six," I reply.
Janet's jaw drops. "Twenty-six? He's too old for me. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"I am of perfectly sound mind. Wes is very sweet and I like him very much. We have a lot in common."
"He thinks you're in college!"
I toss my hair over my shoulder and fold my arms. I don't look at her.
"Does he know you're only seventeen?" Janet asks.
I shake my head. "No. He thinks I'm twenty," I admit, quietly. "He isn't a pervert. He's a really nice guy."
"A really nice guy who you're lying to. I thought you were supposed to be smart? Are you planning to keep this up forever? Just continue lying to him? You're going to get caught. You're going to get caught and he's going to be really, really, really mad. Have you thought about that?"
Honestly, I hadn't thought much about it. Every time I begin to worry, I push those worries away, burying them where I bury all my undesirable thoughts and feelings. I haven't given much consideration to how long I can carry on this charade, how deep I'll get in before I can no longer bail out. I chew on the inside of my cheek, watching Janet watch me, waiting for my response. It doesn't come.
Janet takes a deep breath. "Shannon..." she begins, her voice sounding serious and weighted, "he is twenty-six years old. That's nine years difference. He isn't a teenage boy, he's a grown man. He is going to have certain expectations - "
I cut her off. I've actually thought about this. "No, it's not like that. It's better that he's an adult. He isn't some hormone-crazed teenager. I need someone mature, someone I can have a real relationship with," I tell her. I think of Mick, one of those hormone-crazed teenage boys, always pleading and hassling me, trying to slide his fingers into my panties. Shannon, Shannon, Shannon, don't you love me? Prove it, prove it. I don't need that again.
Janet isn't convinced. "A real relationship built on lies," she replies, reproachfully.
A sudden wave of anger rises inside me. Who is Janet to lecture me? If she were so smart, so savvy about sex and relationships, she'd be at the University of Bridgeport with all her friends, not miserable with a baby and a lecherous husband. "Is it so wrong to want someone to care about me?" I snap, angrily. "Someone to think about me and worry about me and want to be with me? Wes likes me. Maybe I've lied about my age and where I go to school, but everything else is me."
Janet stares at me, frowning. "Fine," she says. "Do what you want. I won't stop you."
The pantry door swings open and Charlie Thomas leans in. "What's going on in here?" he asks, grinning. "Or should I not ask?"
Janet turns her bug-eyed stare onto him. "Yes, Charlie," she says. "Shannon and I are trysting in the pantry. Shh - don't tell."
Charlie waggles his eyebrows at us. "I'll get the video camera."
"Excuse me," I say, sliding passed Charlie into the kitchen.
When I return to the foyer, all the Thomas-Brewers are gathered there, plus the Stevenson twins and Rick Jones. The foyer is a thunder of loud conversations overlapping, fighting to drown the others out. I slip in next to Anna and place my arm around her waist. She's dressed in brown cords with a pink t-shirt and gray zip-up sweatshirt. She looks very out of place with Kristy, Abby, and I wearing jeans and matching sweatshirts.
"I'm so pleased you changed your mind," I tell her.
Anna shrugs. "I didn't want to disappoint anyone by missing the play," she replies, quietly.
"I'm excited for you to see it."
Fweet! Fweet!
All conversation halts as everyone's head whips around toward the staircase. Then we collectively groan. Kristy's standing on the bottom stair with her silver whistle in her mouth, flagging her arms like a cop directing traffic. Seeing everyone's eyes on her, she blows the whistle again.
"Kristy, don't make me make you eat that whistle," Sam growls.
Elizabeth nods. "Really, Kristy, let's leave the whistle at home."
"But it's for crowd control!" Kristy protests.
"And we are our own crowd," Abby adds.
Elizabeth makes Kristy take off the whistle anyway. "Is everyone ready?" Elizabeth asks when the whistle is safely in her coat pocket. "Where's Charlie?"
"Right here," Charlie calls, coming from the direction of the kitchen with Janet following behind him.
"Oh, Janet was missing, too?" Sam asks, snidely. "I hadn't noticed."
Charlie thumps him upside the head. "Knock it off," he orders.
Watson splits us into groups as we walk out the front door. We're taking two vehicles to SHS, Watson's Suburban and Charlie's car. My friends and I are all supposed to ride in the Suburban, but since Sam and David Michael purposely ignore Watson's instructions, Anna and I end up in Charlie's car with Charlie, Rick, and Janet. Anna sits in the middle, separating Janet and I. Charlie, Rick, and Janet talk the entire way. Anna and I don't say much.
The Homecoming game begins at six-thirty. We arrive at six twenty-five. Watson and Charlie are football freaks and refuse to miss a minute of the game. Our group of eleven meets outside the stadium, which already looks packed, at least on the SHS side. There aren't nearly as many spectators on the Sheridan High side. Watson's just taken out his wallet, counting out the admission when Kristy suddenly gets an alarmed look in her eyes. She links her arms through mine and Anna's and begins to herd everyone toward the stadium entrance.
"Okay, okay, let's get a move on," Kristy exclaims, pushing into Sam and David Michael. "I just saw Jessi Ramsey climb out of her dad's car. Let's move, people. We don't want any trouble."
Abby laughs. "Yeah, she might have another tomato!"
Once in the stadium, Kristy drops my arm, which allows me to walk close to Anna. She's taller than me and makes a good shield. Wes called this afternoon and said he and his aunt and cousins wouldn't arrive until after seven. But what if they changed their plans? He also mentioned his aunt prefers to sit near the stadium entrance, so she can be the first to leave when the game ends. I intend to ensure that we sit as far from the entrance as possible. Wes and I are meeting in front of the snack bar during half-time. I don't have a plan beyond that point.
"Hey, there's Claudia!" Abby shouts, waving an arm in the air, and jogging up the steps toward where Claudia and Erica Blumberg are sitting.
I look around. We're a pretty good distance from the entrance. I touch Elizabeth's arm. "There's an entire empty row up there," I tell her, pointing to the back of the bleachers. The very last row is free.
Elizabeth nods and leads the way up the bleachers. Abby's plopped down beside Erica, already in a rush of conversation and eating from a bag of Gummy Worms Claudia's holding out. Anna and I hang back, letting the rest of the Thomas-Brewers pass, and even Kristy, despite her feelings about Claudia, stops. Kristy, blunt and tactless Kristy, cannot hold back the question currently burning in Anna's and my throats.
"What is on your sweatshirt?" Kristy exclaims.
Claudia looks down at her sweatshirt, then pulls the hem tight, so we have a clear view. "It's Mary Anne, of course," she answers, simply. "It took me all week."
Kristy, Anna, and I stare. Finally, Anna says, "That's a lot of sequins."
"Awesome, Claud!" Abby adds, giving Claudia a high-five.
We say goodbye to Claudia and Erica, then climb the rest of the steps to the back row. "That's what she's wasting her life on?" Kristy cries when Claudia and Erica are out of earshot.
"Think of it this way," Anna replies, "if SDS makes the volleyball playoffs, she might do you and Abby."
Did Anna Stevenson just make a joke? Sullen, distant Anna? I grin at her as we take our seats. She smiles wryly. I've never been to a football game before. After five minutes, I learn it's very boring. Even Kristy and Abby, the sports nuts, appear rather disinterested. Watson, Charlie, Sam, and David Michael watch the game intently though, randomly leaping out of their seats and cheering. Down at the other end of our row, Elizabeth's wearing her reading glasses with a book open in her lap. When Kristy announces she's starving, we take everyone's orders and head down to the snack bar. While in line, we run into several old baby-sitting charges, all of whom are in middle school now and hanging around under the bleachers.
"I feel old," Kristy says when Vanessa Pike and Haley Braddock walk away from us to rejoin their friends.
"You are old," replies Abby. "In fact, you're practically ancient."
Kristy rolls her eyes, then steps up to the counter to place our order. We're loaded down with sodas, nachos, and corn dogs as we climb back up the bleachers. I have great difficulty balancing four nachos in my hands. Claudia and Erica are now sitting with a blonde and brunette when we pass and we all say quick hellos. I think Abby hisses at one of them.
"This corn dog is cold!" Abby exclaims when we take our seats and begin eating. She spits the piece she's chewed into a napkin. My corn dog tastes fine.
"This is diet, I wanted regular," Janet tells Kristy, leaning around Rick.
Kristy shrugs. "Too bad."
"Just drink it," Sam snaps. "The diet will do you good."
I don't see it happen, but I think Charlie thumps him on the head again.
Abby nudges me, sharply in the ribs. "Hey, watch this," she says, standing up. She lifts her corn dog over her head. "The SHS volleyball team sucks!" she shrieks and hurls the corn dog down at Claudia's friends. But she overthrows and instead hits a red-haired woman in the back of the head. We duck as the woman whirls around.
"You really need to get over this volleyball thing," I tell Abby, crouched down in the bleachers.
"I got cheese on my jeans! Thanks, Abby," Kristy grumbles, but then laughs.
"You can get up now," Janet tells us, grouchily. "She turned back around."
I decide that maybe football games aren't so bad after all. At least as long as I'm not watching the game. Anna remains rather silent, but Abby's more her old self, cracking horrible jokes, imitating people in the stands. Kristy, Abby, and I are enjoying ourselves. I hope Anna is too. Charlie slides by us to buy Janet the correct soda, which causes Kristy to roll her eyes at me. I bite my tongue so I won't point out that at least one of her brothers isn't a cretin.
Awhile later, after we finish our food and sodas, Kristy makes us go back down the bleachers to say hello to Stacey McGill, who's sitting with Claudia and their friends. It's strange and awkward. I've probably seen Stacey once or twice a year since the BSC broke up. And I never know what to say to her. She isn't like Claudia, who has managed to stay friends with everyone. I think of Greer as we trudge back up to our seats, Greer who skipped out on the game to see a movie with Sally White. What do I care about the SHS Homecoming? she asked, I've met this Mary Anne girl twice. She has a point, but I know she's drifting away from me, further and further, until one day we'll see each other and not know what to say.
Sam is watching us as we climb back up to our seats. "What did Stacey say?" he demands.
"Nothing about you," Kristy replies, testily.
"Should I go down there? Maybe I should say hello."
"If you bother Stacey McGill, I'll toss you off these bleachers," Charlie barks from down the row. At least someone in this family realizes Sam's a creep.
"Really, Charlie, that isn't necessary," Elizabeth scolds, not glancing up from her book.
When half-time comes around, Janet leaves to find her friends. As soon as she disappears down the bleachers, I make a show of checking my watch. "Oh! I should call Maria," I tell my friends, standing up. "Where's a payphone?"
"Uh..." Kristy replies, also standing. "Over by the locker rooms."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Anna asks.
"No, that's okay," I answer, peeling off my SDS sweatshirt. I'm wearing a navy blue thermal underneath. "I'm a little hot," I say, laying the sweatshirt on my seat.
"You better hurry," Kristy advises. "If the floats start rolling, you'll get stuck on the Sheridan side."
"Okay," I reply, nodding and start down the bleachers. When I reach the bottom, I glance back at my friends. They wave and guilt washes over me. I hurry on toward the snack bar. I'm surprised to find Wes standing beside the counter, happily chatting with Haley and Vanessa, who are giggling and tossing their hair. I jump quickly behind the snack bar. They must be his students. I never considered that he might teach kids I used to baby-sit. I peek around the corner. I must look ridiculous. When Haley and Vanessa finally retreat, I come out of hiding, sidling up to Wes.
"Hello," I greet him.
"Hey! Here, I bought you a soda," he says, handing me a cup.
"Thank you. I'm feeling claustrophobic, let's take a walk," I say, steering him toward the Sheridan side of the stadium. "Were those your students?" I ask, taking a sip of my soda. Diet, the same I ordered at the movies. He remembered.
"Yeah, those were two of my students. From my pre-algebra class."
"They were flirting with you."
Wes glances at me, startled. "What? No, I don't think so."
I laugh. "Yes, they were. You must get that a lot though. Girls with crushes on you."
Wes shrugs, as we climb the stairs to the bleachers on the Sheridan side. "I've gotten a few love letters. A few poems," he replies, trying to sound nonchalant, but looking a tad uncomfortable. "It's a little embarrassing."
"I bet. Let's sit down," I tell him, lowering onto a front row bleacher. The first float is rolling out from behind the locker rooms. Kristy will assume I didn't heed her warning and got stuck. That'll buy me some time. "It's much nicer on this side. Are you having fun?"
Wes smiles. "Better now," he answers, then laughs. "Okay, that was corny. Honestly, I'm not that interested in sports. I thought the Homecoming game was deathly dull last year. It's not any more thrilling this year."
"I've never been to a football game before. I think this will be my first and last," I say, completely forgetting to watch the floats or for Mary Anne. "But on the way here, I heard the new Great Blue Whales song on the radio."
"I heard it in the car this morning! It was a lot better than most of their recent stuff. 'Sister Sally' will always be their best song though."
I groan. "Please don't say that name to me."
"You don't like that song?"
I shake my head. "No, that's not it," I answer, then sigh. I explain about Sally White in the vaguest terms possible. I try not to seem too upset. Anger is not very becoming. Wes is an excellent listener. He nods every now and then and actually appears interested. I hope my problem doesn't sound like the stupid little high school problem it is.
When I finish, Wes furrows his brow. "So, is this girl a bit...unstable?" he asks, seriously.
I nod, enthusiastically. "Yes! I think she is!"
Wes and I haven't been paying attention to what's going on out on the field and are startled when people begin shrieking. Our heads snap up, quickly. Out on the field, the sprinklers have come on. I think I see Mary Anne running off the field with her arms over her head. "Is this...is this a tradition?" I ask, puzzled.
Wes looks puzzled, too. "Uh...I don't think so. This didn't happen last year. Wow. The Homecoming Queen looks mad."
Several people knock into us, crowding against the railing for a better view. Wes and I move back a row and continue our conversation. Slowly, people wander away from the railing. Someone makes an announcement over the loudspeaker, but Wes and I ignore that, too. We're lost in each other.
"Shannon?"
My head whips around. Anna's standing on the platform, staring at me. I stare back, all words escaping me. Caught again. My heart begins to pound.
"Hi Anna," I say, weakly.
Anna looks from me to Wes and back again. "Elizabeth sent me to look for you," she explains in an oddly tight voice. "She was worried. She's ready to leave. So are Kristy and Abby. But...I guess you're busy." Anna turns and walks away.
How could I get so lucky twice?
Wait! How can I think this is lucky?
"Is something wrong, Shannon?" Wes asks, confused.
"No, no," I assure him, shakily, standing up. "That's just my friend, Anna. The violinist I told you about."
Wes still looks confused. "Oh..." he says. "Oh...you didn't tell her you were meeting me, did you?"
"No, I didn't," I admit, which is the truth. "I thought...it doesn't matter. I should have told her. I'm sorry, Wes. I have to go."
Wes nods. "I understand. I hope this doesn't cause any problems for you," he replies. "I'll call you!" he shouts after me, as I hurry across the platform.
Maybe I am lucky.
Anna's already passing the snack bar when I catch up to her. "Anna! Wait!" I yell, sprinting the last few yards. Anna stops and waits. I stop in front of her, out of breath. Maybe I should have signed up for a phys. ed. class this semester. I'm already out of shape. "Anna, I can explain."
Anna raises her eyebrows. "You can explain why you were draped all over a forty year old man?"
"He isn't forty! He's twenty-six," I reply, testily. I take a deep breath. I must regain control. "He's only twenty-six," I say, much more calmly. "We've been dating, but it's a secret. I can explain everything if you give me a chance. Just...don't be mad at me."
Anna hesitates. "I'm not mad," she finally says. "I'm...confused. Were you sneaking around with him last weekend? Is that why you blew me off? And Kristy?"
I nod, guiltily. "Yes...and that was wrong. I don't know what's happening to me, Anna. I've become such a - " I almost say liar. Can I admit that? Out loud to another person? No. Saying it would make it too real and then I'd have to face the truth. "A sneak. And I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you." I shiver, suddenly realizing how cold it is. "You haven't been honest with me either."
Anna pushes a curl out of her eye. "I know," she says. She pauses, watching me intently. The curl falls back over her eye and she pushes it away again. "Come over tomorrow," she says.
"Why?"
Anna hesitates again. "Just come over. You can tell me about your forty year old and I'll tell you...something." Then Anna starts to walk away, back toward the bleachers.
I follow behind her, not asking questions. I can't press her or else she may change her mind. She may change her mind anyway. There's a lot of time between now and tomorrow. But right now I am close to knowing what has bothered her so long. And right now my own secret is safe.
Kristy, Abby, and Elizabeth are standing by the railing when we climb the stairs to the platform. "I told you you'd get stuck on the other side," is the first thing Kristy says to me.
I roll my eyes at her.
"You missed Mary Anne," Abby tells me. "She just left. Isn't Homecoming fantastic? Mass hysteria, sprinklers, Grace Blume throwing a tantrum in front of hundreds of people! We should have come last year!"
"I don't think this happens every year," Elizabeth says, handing me my sweatshirt, which I tie around my waist.
I loop my arm through Anna's as we walk toward the stairs. Ahead of us, Kristy and Abby are chatting, excitedly, rehashing all the details I missed. By the entrance, we pass Claudia and Erica's friend from Bart's party, the one with the neon green headband. She's dripping wet with mud streaked across her dress. She's screeching at some women, waving her arms madly.
"I guess Grace Blume's not the only one upset about Homecoming," Kristy observes with a laugh. "Can we stop for ice cream, Mom?"
"Ice cream and pie!" Abby yells.
"I'm not very hungry," I say, glancing over at Anna, who I'm still arm-in-arm with. She's looking in the other direction, her expression unreadable. I don't think she's heard a word.
"You can get a soda," Kristy tells me. "Thelma's, Mom?"
Elizabeth nods, digging through her purse for the keys to the Suburban. "A quick stop," she says, unlocking the door.
We climb into the Suburban and drive off into the night.