“You don’t want to go to the party?”
I shook my head. The team didn’t deserve to celebrate my win. I wouldn’t be part of it.
As I moved closer to the locker room, I noticed someone standing awkwardly against the wall near the bathrooms.
It couldn’t be.
All the signs were there. Black hoodie. Barely able to see the face. Posture that showed she’d rather be anywhere but there.
Did Josephine come to my game?
I didn’t have time to check because the crowd was starting to sing the school song, and it was making me feel sick. Sure. Now, they were a team. Now, they supported me. As long as I was winning. I jogged into the locker room and didn’t look back.
Jenna and I spent the night curled on her couch watching reruns of The Office. She was a sweetheart. She didn’t question me on not wanting to go to the party. I’m sure she would have liked to go, but she was there for me. She got me some ice to put on my shoulder, and subtly shooed her father away when she sensed I was getting tired of talking about the game. We made out for awhile when we were sure her parents were asleep. It was nice. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my evening, but I was distracted the whole time.
When I got home, I hastened to my room and pulled out my cell phone. I began to text Josephine.
Me: Am I losing it or did I see u at the game?
Josephine: I was there
Me: ?
Josephine: ?
Me: Suddenly become school spirited?
Josephine: What? Didn’t you see my pom-poms?
Me: If there were pom-poms I would have noticed. Sort of my thing. Go for girls with them.
Josephine: You were listening to Ben and me?
Me: Whatever. Why were you there?
Me: hello?
Me: ...
Josephine: Because it’s important to you.
Josephine: Maybe I’ve been too hard on you.
Josephine: We are shifting partners.
Me: And that means something.
Josephine: Supposedly.
Me: Just don’t go falling in love with me.
Josephine: I don’t have the blonde hair and perky boobs for that.
Me: Ha. Ha.
Josephine: Goodnight Peyton Manning.
Me: I consider myself more of a Tom Brady.
Josephine: Goodnight Tom.
Me: Goodnight Josephine.
***
“Here,” Jenna said, handing me a mocha frappuccino, “I still don’t understand how you can drink these in October, but I thought it might help you out this morning.”
“Thanks,” I replied, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. As soon as her car door was shut, I pulled out of her parents’ driveway. I didn’t want to be late.
After texting Josephine, I had a hard time getting to sleep. I knew Josephine was more than likely miserable for the entirety of the football game, but she still came. For me. She was taking our partnership seriously. I needed to do the same. Besides, I still remembered the promise I made—granted silently and to myself—about, helping Josephine out back in this world. I would start with the track meet.
After setting my alarm for the ungodly hour of eight am, I called Jenna to see if she wanted to go to the meet with me. I could hear the surprise in her voice when she answered, as if it was utterly unimaginable that I could be awake so early on a Saturday morning.
Crazier things have happened.
Trust me.
I also saw the track meet as an opportunity to meet these rumors about Josephine and me head on. If I could get Jenna and Josephine to be friends again, and the rest of the school to notice, then maybe the rumors would stop. Maybe I could go back to the way things were before.
I could salvage something.
“What made you suddenly so interested in track?” Jenna asked, searching for a station that wasn’t being bombarded with commercials.
“You ever think radio stations plan a time to go on commercial breaks together so you won’t switch to another channel? I swear they’re always on commercial at the same time,” I said.
“Is it because of Josephine?”
Right. These were the types of questions that I would have to answer. I could do this. No sweat. I cleared my throat. “She came to my game last night. I just thought it would be nice to go to her meet.”
“You two have gotten close?”
I glanced at Jenna. She wasn’t looking at me. Instead, her eyes were glued to the passing scenery. If I hadn’t know her forever, I might have thought she didn’t give a damn about the topic we were discussing, but her leg was bouncing up and down as if it would run off without her.
Crap.
“I guess. I think we’re trying to be friends. I don’t think she really has any friends, you know.”
“Right.”
I could hear everything she wasn’t saying. I could hear them because they would be the things I would say to myself. When did I care about anyone? Did I see Josephine as some sort of charity case? What was my real motive behind this? Because Logan Middleton certainly didn’t ever do anything just to be nice.