12th Grade, High School

Age: 16-17

Late September/Early October 2009

…

Homecoming week brings more decorations than the holidays. The lampposts that line Grand Street are wrapped in blue and red garland. Each of the downtown storefronts feature posters, some handwritten to express support and some printed images of the team. The smaller corner stores in the neighborhoods also boast school pride with streamers and window paint.

Vince stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt as he studies the poster Mr. Kelso has hung in his window. The corner store is closed, too early in the morning for Kelso's targeted crowd, so he takes the extra moment to stare. This year's football team is the best it's been in decades and more than one member of the team was going on to play in college. No one else had reached the caliber of Vance going to Alabama, but that doesn't stop the town from going the extra mile with their pomp and circumstance.

The poster hanging in Kelso's window was donated to the school by a local graphic designer. Action shots of each of the boys are photoshopped together on a red and blue backdrop. Across the bottom of the players, in bold dramatic font, reads WARRIOR FOOTBALL, and in slightly smaller but no less dramatic font under it reads Homecoming Oct 3. Vince's eyes glance around the poster. Vance, of course, is in the center, in the act of catching a ball. He finds himself, down in the lower left, the ball tucked under his arm as he charges down field. His face, like all the boys', is hidden under his football helmet, but his body language demonstrates determination.

He sighs and turns away, continuing on his way toward the school for the pre-school film viewing the team decided on. They wanted to be able to use their afternoon sessions for practice rather than watching tapes. It's their last homecoming and the team desperately wants to win. Their goal is to end the season with a perfect record, holding themselves to nearly impossible standards to do so.

It's almost as if everyone else has caught up to Vince's own method of madness, just as he is beginning to question it himself.

All of his offers are on the table. Not even a year ago, he had been fraught with worry, afraid that every ounce of his hard work had gone unnoticed. Terrified that despite his best efforts, it still wasn't enough to garner the attention he had strived for since elementary school. With a handful of schools vying for his acceptance, scholarships and promises of immediate playing time included, he has hit the exact place where he wanted to be. His choice should be easy. While it isn't Duke or Kentucky, Wake Forest has a strong basketball program with NCAA tournament appearances and a history of success. Last season, they were the 12th ranked team nationally.

But every time he goes to make the final decision, something is holding him back.

He had told himself that he would make his choice today. It's a self-imposed deadline, set mostly because he knows this week people will be talking. He is, if the pattern continues, going to be Homecoming King and with Vance going to Alabama, people will want to know about Vince. Where did Vince finally decide to go?

When he arrives to the viewing room, he takes a seat in the back, pulling out his notebook from his bag. He flips to the last few pages, where he has his pros and cons lists. He has already politely declined the offers of most of the schools even if he hasn't told anyone. Even though he knows most of town is secretly hoping he'll attend the University of Arkansas, that was the first one to go. He needs to leave, get out of his own shadow and see what he can really do. The rest of the schools he crossed off for a variety of different reasons. He only has one school left on his list besides Wake Forest.

Boston College was the first major program outside of Arkansas to show any interest in him and the reality is its continued presence on his list is mostly because of sentimentality. BC has only recently joined the ACC and they've struggled in the seasons since. In his mind, there's no comparison between the two choices in terms of their basketball programs. If he even wanted a shot at playing professionally, it made much more sense to go to Wake Forest. But for whatever reason, whenever he attempted to cross it off, he couldn't get himself to do it.

TJ slams down into the seat beside him and Vince shuts his notebook, glancing over as TJ slouches in the chair, pulling his hat over his eyes.

"Tell me when Coach gets here," he grumbles.

"Happy Monday," he mumbles back.

At the tone of his voice, TJ tilts his cap back and looks up. "You're not usually grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah, that's usually you."

The joke falls flat when it leaves his lips. The typically ribbing between them is hidden by the uneasiness flooding Vince's head. TJ's mouth twitches downward and Vince turns away, watching the door as their coach walks into the room. Quickly, he shifts his attention back to TJ and shakes his head once.

"Don't worry about it," Vince says, cutting TJ off before his friend can even finish opening his mouth. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Anything I can help with?" TJ asks.

He gives another shake of his head, speaking as their coach calls them all to attention.

"No, unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own."

TJ continues to eye him curiously and Vince slowly opens the cover to his notebook, flipping to the page with his pros and cons list. The realization of his troubles hits TJ almost instantly and he gives him a little nod of encouragement.

"Well, for what it's worth," TJ says. "I don't think you can make a bad choice."

He nods his head and closes his notebook once again, stuffing it into his backpack so he can focus on what their coach has to say. The viewing runs right up until the last possible moment, the boys finally being let go a few minutes before the warning bell. They tumble out and separate into smaller groups heading in similar directions. Before long, it's just TJ and Vince and TJ follows Vince to his locker, having to pass it on the way to his own. He waves goodbye as Vince stops and he continues walking, only to stop short.

"Oh, and by the way," TJ says, pivoting back to face Vince. "I told the sophomores we'd help them with the homecoming set up. You know, hanging posters, making sure their accounts are good."

Vince grabs a book from his locker and raises his eyebrows. "And why would they need us to do that?"

"They don't really have the same manpower we did," TJ says. "I ran into Theresa at Kelso's going over their plans and they're going to need all the help they can get. Their senate is…a little sparse."

"Really?" Vince says, surprised. Their class has always had a surplus of students wanting to help out. As did all the classes ahead of him that he can remember. When TJ nods, Vince shuts his locker door and nudges TJ as he says, "Maybe we can pawn the Ashleys off on them?"

TJ snorts, the two of them snickering at images of the Ashleys completely taking over filling their minds.

"As much as I'd like to," TJ says, once they've quieted down. "I don't think that would solve any problems."

"True. They'd just run the sophomore account into the ground," he agrees.

As treasurer, he has seen the receipts the Ashleys have submitted this year for their float and hallway decorations, the sum of which has stunned both him and Mr. Dudikoff – and he's not convinced that the girls aren't spending more and having their fathers pay for it.

"So, I guess if we want a homecoming, we have to help," he mutters.

"Bingo," TJ says. They stop at the stairwell, where TJ makes a move to go up. Vince's first class is down in the basement level and he figures TJ is probably going upstairs to see if he can catch Spinelli at her locker before the start of the school day. "I said we'd meet them in the gym lobby to get their posters at lunch. I figure our group can divide and conquer and be done before the hot lunch line even wraps up."

He nods his head at TJ's plan and holds his fist out. TJ meets it with his own and they knock knuckles in a familiar handshake before going their separate ways.

…

Vince opens the door to the gym lobby, holding it for Gretchen, Gus, and Spinelli as they enter. The four have English together before lunch and walked down together to the gym lobby, wondering aloud between themselves what they would find when they arrived. TJ had made it seem like the sophomores were incapable of planning a homecoming on their own. When he follows in behind the other three, his eyes focusing on the small group of girls that have assembled in the lobby, he wrinkles his nose.

TJ may have given them a little too much credit.

The group of girls is less a group and more of a trio. A small girl with mousy brown hair stands with a large stack of paper posters. Beside her is a small round blonde with rosy cheeks and watery blue eyes and a taller girl with dark hair, freckles, and glasses. All three share the same timid demeanor, each with a look of desperation evident on their faces.

"Hey, Theresa," Gus says kindly as the four approach. "Long time no see."

The mousy brunette smiles softly and nods her head. When she speaks, her voice is high-pitched and childlike. "It's good to see you all."

Vince frowns and narrows his eyes, trying to place the girl but can't. He has never been good with names, but this girl seems to know them all from somewhere.

"TJ said you need some help," Spinelli says.

The three girls all nod in unison. A door creaks open behind them, TJ and Mikey entering through the lobby doors.

"Where's the rest of your senate?" Gus asks, looking past TJ and Mikey, as if they have a trail of sophomores behind them.

"Umm," Theresa says. "This is…it."

Vince shares a look with Spinelli and follows her gaze toward TJ, who smiles as he walks up to the three younger girls. He grins in a way that tells Vince that he knew exactly what they were walking into – and also knew his friends enough not to warn them ahead of time for fear that they'd balk at the prospect.

"So, here's my plan," TJ says, taking the papers from Theresa's hands and handing out equal piles to the boys. "Some of us will hang posters in the hallway. I figured Gretchen could help set up the ticket sales, make sure the money box is in order, all the paperwork is filed and organized, yada yada. And Spin can make the big poster to hang over the ticket sale counter, with all the info on it, since she has the best handwriting."

Vince glances down at the poster the girls have designed. It's just on plain copy paper, black and white rather than colored, and in the middle says, "It's a Love Story, baby, just say 'Yes' (to HoCo)!" in one of the girl's curly script. In the lower corner, they have clip art of what looks like Romeo and Juliet on her balcony. Opposite the image in the other lower corner has all the details like the date and the cost of the tickets.

Vince wrinkles his nose. There's a discount when you buy two tickets instead of one. Homecoming has never been about dates – or, at least it never has before. When they hosted the dance two years ago, they hadn't offered any discount. A ticket was a ticket, no matter how many were bought. But the theme that the sophomores have chosen appears much more couples focused than years past. When they chose a theme, the Ashleys had chosen "A Night in Paris" and threatened everyone into choosing it with them. Last year, the now-juniors had integrated their hallway, float, and the dance as a Disney/Under The Sea theme.

He eyes the others, but the others haven't looked down at the papers, instead continuing with the logistics. He leans over and nudges Gretchen, showing her the poster.

"What even is this theme?" he murmurs.

She scans the paper, her eyes narrowing as she focuses. Then she shrugs. "Star Crossed Lovers?" she guesses, but doesn't sound convinced.

"Interesting," Vince says, but all he can think about is that Romeo and Juliet both die at the end of the play.

TJ breaks them all apart, with the girls heading up the stairs to the rotunda to prepare the ticket counter and each of the boys taking a separate hallway. Vince climbs to the top floor to tape his pile of posters to any open wall space and along the lockers.

As he hangs a poster to one of the lockers, he shakes his head. He doesn't understand the need to make certain people's tickets cheaper. It seems like a good way to cause controversy and drama to him. Why should his ticket cost more than say TJ's or Gus's? He moves a little way down and slams another poster against a different locker. The clang of the metal against his hand rings out in the hallway and he winces at the sound, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone has joined him in the empty hallway and could have potentially heard him.

The hallway is still empty, but he can hear clicking of heels against the tile floors. He waits to see which teacher is rounding the corner from the language wing, hoping that she isn't going to scold him for the loud bang. But, rather than a teacher, the person who turns the corner is Ashley B.

He groans and turns back toward the locker doors, taping another paper to the metal as quietly as he can in hopes that she'll just ignore him. But as the click clack of her kitten heels grow louder, he realizes that he won't be that lucky.

Ashley yanks the poster he just hung down from the locker door and raises an eyebrow as her eyes scan the sheet.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asks. She looks up over the paper at him. "Are you going to call this charity work for your next interview with the Grand Street Gazette?"

This is an ongoing source of animosity between them – Ashley B is still mad that the Gazette did a full page article on him and relegated her Teen Miss Blush win to a tiny blurb. Ever since then, he has noticed an increased annoyance in her demeanor when they're around each other. Not that they had ever been friends, but they had at least been cordial.

He grabs the poster back from her and, in the process, the paper wrinkles. He frowns, knowing he can't hang this one back up, and crumples it up completely, tossing it back at her. Rather than going to catch it, she shrieks and moves out of the way, the balled up sheet of paper landing with barely any noise on the floor beside her.

"We're helping the sophomores," he grumbles, hanging a new, unwrinkled sheet in place of the old one. "Not that it really concerns you."

"And why wouldn't it concern me?" she demands, crossing her arms. "It is our last homecoming after all."

Vince sucks in a deep breath. This is exactly why they didn't want the Ashleys to know that the sophomores needed help. They'll get their manicured hands into places they don't need to be.

"Fine, you want to help? Pass these out," he says, cutting his stack and thrusting the pile toward her.

She snatches the papers and gives him a glare before she takes a moment to read the paper. She raises an eyebrow and rolls her eyes.

"Romeo and Juliet?" she scoffs. She gives a small snort. "Amateurs."

"Be nice," he says, even though he had similar opinions earlier.

She rolls her eyes again and follows behind him as he hangs the next poster. He picks a locker and pulls a piece of tape off. As he tapes the paper to the metal, he hears her click her tongue behind him.

"Well, at least they're doing discounted tickets if it's going to be a disaster," she sighs.

"Only if you have a date," he grumbles.

"You don't have to be dating someone to take them to homecoming," she states firmly, with a tone that tells him she thinks this should be obvious to him.

"I just don't think it's fair, is all."

"Oh, for God's sake," she mumbles under her breath. Then she blows out an exasperated sigh and at normal volume says, "Not everything in life is fair."

"You think that I don't know that?" he insists.

The two share a knowing look and Vince turns away, glancing down at the paper stack in his hand.

"Have you made any decisions yet about where you're going?" she asks, a slyness to her voice that makes him narrow his eyes.

"Wow, I'm touched that you care."

"Please," she scoffs, shaking her head. "My mom keeps bugging me, wanting to know if I know what you're choosing. Apparently it's all their women's group can talk about. You and your fancy basketball plans."

"Well, I'm sorry, but your mom is not going to find out before my mom."

She looks surprised.

"You still haven't decided?" she asks, sounding this time genuinely curious. "You have it narrowed down to two – there must be one you're favoring more than the other."

He raises an eyebrow at her knowledge.

"Remember, they talk about you more than Jesus at Women's Group," she sneers.

"There's one that makes more sense," he says. He almost leaves it at that, but feeling the need to let something out, he continues vaguely, not sure she's actually listening. "But, I don't know, maybe I just want to get as far away as I can. See how different things are."

He sees the recognition of what he's saying in her eyes. She was there during the district championship game last year. They had won the game despite not being the favorites and the home team's audience hadn't taken that easily. Toward halftime they started to get riled up and by the end of the game, the Warriors had rushed home to celebrate the victory.

Or at least, that's how the Grand Street Gazette had glossed over it so they could focus more on the winning numbers.

When Vince thinks back to the district championship game, he remembers things very differently. He remembers walking in early off the bus and passing a group of boys hanging around outside the gym, who watched him with wary eyes. He can see a small group of students standing in the row immediately behind his bench, dressed in black t-shirts with black paint under their eyes that covered a little more of their skin than it should have for war paint. Conveniently, the other team's colors were black and gold, but it was obvious that they weren't dressed in school colors. It became obvious to Vince's coaching staff when they pulled Vince for a water break and the boys started howling like monkeys.

He knows that the BC scout was in the stands that night because while he was being recruited, the staff had made mention of how impressed they were with his composure. A few other schools must have had scouts there as well, or had just heard through the grapevine, as they made mentions as well at his visits. More than one school had told him that while he is talented, his composure is what made him stand out. And, for a while, it had bothered him immensely, wondering if the only reason why any of these schools were finally taking notice was because of that one incident and not his basketball skills.

Of course, the Grand Street Gazette didn't say a word. They spoke highly of Vince's athletic ability and the team's impeccable performance, but they didn't mention that with five minutes left in the fourth quarter, Sully the athletic director had guided him out of the gymnasium along with Ashley B as quickly as they could move. The cheerleaders followed shortly after and as soon as the buzzer rang, the basketball team was ushered out.

It hasn't been the first and it certainly won't be the last time that Vince has felt unsafe, but he has noticed a palpable shift since the presidential election. Maybe that's what's holding him back. He knows the South already, but he knows absolutely nothing about other parts of the country. He had been to northern California before to help Chad move in at Stanford and a lot of his travel basketball tournaments were in Florida, but prior to his scouting trips this summer, he had never been to the northeast. What's better – the devil you know or the devil you don't?

Ashley sighs and shakes her head. "If you think leaving the south will help distance you, I think you'll be disappointed," she says.

"Well, I'm not looking for a utopia," he sneers.

But, he knows she's right. It's why this reason is so flimsy on his list of reasons not to choose Wake Forest. The schools themselves have very similar demographics, even if their geography is different. He sighs and shakes his head, taking a breath so he can calm himself down. He shouldn't take his frustration out on Ashley B, so he changes the subject.

"I've made a choice," he says. "I'm just trying to get my gut to let me make it."

She gives him an uncharacteristically soft gaze, but as quick as it flits onto her face, it disappears.

"Maybe you just don't want to make a choice because once you do, you'll be back to being just like the rest of us," Ashley says, her voice taking on that ribbing tone they typically use with each other. "You'll get your last interview and then they'll be on to the next best thing."

Vince frowns and turns back to his pile of posters, readying one to hang on the locker as they start to walk. He can't say he's mad about the change in subject. In fact, it feels much more natural to talk with her like this.

"I mean, I still have my final season. Plus baseball season," he says with a smirk. "I don't think I'll be an old has-been as soon as I sign my letter of intent."

Ashley rolls her eyes. "Maybe," she says. Then she points to the stack of papers in her hand, lifting one up and tapping her finger on the section with the ticket prices. "If you were so popular, you'd think you wouldn't be so upset about discounted couples tickets."

His lips tighten and he stomps ahead to post another poster, not having a ready comeback. "It's just not right," he mumbles, quiet enough that he thinks she can't hear.

"Oh, what are you now? Head of the Justice League?" he hears her say from behind him.

He ignores her sarcasm and turns to face her. "I just don't think anyone should be considered more important because they're dating someone."

"Like I said, you don't need to be dating to go to Homecoming."

"You offering yourself up?" he teases, knowing already that she is dating a boy they both know from their church who lives in Bentonville. He lost count of how many times she mentioned that she would be going to two homecomings during their senate meetings.

"Oh, God no," she says, shaking her head. "If there's no one that you'd want to date, just go with Gretchen. You're going together anyway – might as well get cheaper tickets."

He grumbles at her insinuation that he should just go with Gretchen. This is exactly the type of behavior he was talking about earlier. Just go with someone as if that won't hurt someone's feelings or send the wrong messages. Ever since sophomore year, when he danced with a girl he didn't really know, who then looked at him with eager eyes, he made an effort not to be flippant about dances and dates. Besides, he is leaving in less than a year. Dating seems futile and, besides, he has much more important things to worry about. Right?

"So, at least it's unfair and at the worst, it's encouraging people to couple up who wouldn't otherwise," he says.

"Stop being obnoxious," she replies. "It's a dance, not marriage."

He shakes his head and grabs her half of his stack. His friends are probably wondering what's taking him so long to hang these posters.

"Aren't your friends wondering why you're not at lunch?" he asks, hoping it will send her away.

"Fine, if you don't want any help," she says, and she turns around on her heel, the click clack on the tile getting softer and softer until he can hear her start down the stairs.

…

Notes

Sorry this took so long to get out!

In chapter 15, Ashley B tells Vince "You don't have to be dating someone to take them to homecoming." And here we have that coming full circle.

The slogan the sophomores used for their poster is from Taylor Swift's Love Story, originally released in 2008. Her album Fearless was the top selling album of 2009 and the success of this album (the songs Love Story and You Belong With Me in particular) on pop radio stations is credited with helping Taylor Swift achieve mainstream fame outside of the country music realm. So, yes, Theresa is an OG Swiftie in this universe.

The basketball game that Vince mentions in this chapter is something I've known would happen for years in this story. It's based on a similar incident that happened at a friend of mine's high school right after the January 2009 inauguration of Barack Obama. Years ago, we pieced together the details of what happened at this game and, originally, I had the chapter written from Gus's point of view and it was going to delve into a very tricky political divide between the characters as I feel all the families fall somewhere along the continuum. Ultimately, I decided that this was not the fic to try to tackle a topic with so much nuance and, honestly, knew that I didn't have the time in this fic to do it justice. After weeks of editing, I'm still not sure I'll ever do any of it justice, but I wanted to touch on it, even if only briefly, and hope it's okay.

See you in September/October 2009 Part 2.