Waiting on the Sidelines (Waiting on the Sidelines #1)(9)



I was so deep in my own imagination that I hadn’t noticed Reed answer his phone. I was jolted back to reality when he started laughing with whoever was on the other side. “Sorry, it’s Sean. I’ll just be a minute,” he whispered, walking to his living room. I heard parts of the conversation over the next few minutes as he was explaining what he was doing and who was at his house. “No, dude. It’s nothing like that – we’re lab partners, that’s all. … She’s cool, man. I swear. You two would actually get along.”

I wasn’t sure if I was happy to hear him defend my coolness or offended by his categorization of me in the lab partner box. He was back in the dining room soon after. He sat back on one of the chairs, tilting it backwards some, chewing on the cap of a pen and watching me work while I pretended to be oblivious to his studying of my hands. I could tell he wanted to say something, but for some reason was quiet. Finally, I had to break the awkward silence.

“Hey, is this what you were envisioning? Sorry, I just sort of started mapping the entire thing out,” I said, looking up and settling my gaze right at the pen cap bobbing up and down on his lip as he chewed.

“Oh, no, this is great! Sorry… I was just trying not to stop your flow,” he stopped, and it seemed like he wanted to say more. Chewing a bit longer, he finally pulled the pen from his mouth and continued. “Sean and a few friends are going to stop by for a bit. They’ll just be hanging out in the living room, watching ESPN. We can keep working, they won’t interrupt.”

“Sure, sounds good,” I said, closing my lips tightly and putting on the best ‘I’m fine with it’ smile I could. I wasn’t fine with it at all. The last time I was in the presence of the two of them, they were high-fiving over their description of how unattractive I was. Being trapped with them again was not high on my to do list. I decided to focus my energy on the project. Maybe, just maybe, I could completely finish the drawing and start actually building the model so I could avoid having to socialize with his friends.

Reed was standing at the head of the table, watching me plot out urban farming squares when the doorbell rang. Without a word, he jogged over and opened it. I heard Sean first, the familiar ‘Boom’ that I knew was followed by a knuckle bump with Reed. Vomit was creeping up on me and I knew I was frowning. I heard a few more voices as the footsteps came around the corner and saw Reed whispering something in Sean’s ear, presumably reminding him that I was here.

“Noles, what’s up man!” Sean said, holding a hand up for me to slap. Completely succumbing to the pressure of the situation, I did. As if I had always done that with him, and we had some sort of relationship. Truth be told, I had known Sean since seventh grade, but we never really talked. “Hey,” I said, smiling on the outside.

Pretending, that’s what I was doing. I was disgusted at myself for it, but here I was doing it anyhow. Noles? Since when am I Noles?

“This is Devin and Cole. They’re on varsity with me… juniors. They took the little freshman under their wing,” Reed said, laughing it off like he was embarrassed. As absurd as it was, Reed was the one taking the upper classmen under his wing. Though he was not quite 15, he came to Coolidge with such confidence. I know a lot of it came from his name and his father and his brother, but there was also a certain amount that was just his. He owned it, and he was a leader the instant he stepped foot on our campus.

“Mind if we hit the fridge?” Devin, the biggest of the bunch, said. He was clearly a lineman or some type of defensive player. He was built like a college player. I heard the clanking of glass in the kitchen as the fridge door shut. Then I heard the distinct sound of bottle caps snapping. Curious, I rounded the table, pretending to need to work on the other side just to catch a view of what I suspected. All four boys were holding Heineken beers, leaning against the counter, one of them sitting on top of the kitchen island. It was clearly a regular activity, they seemed so comfortable and at home. I was far from 15, several months shy to be exact, and had yet to really kiss a boy, let alone drink a beer. My palms were sweating, I was so nervous at the situation. Work, busy yourself, Noles! I thought to myself, smirking at my silently said nickname.

I heard the TV turn on and then the regular banter about the NFL and “great catches” ensued. I continued to circle the table, working, but also putting my ears at their best advantage. Just then, I heard my name. It was Sean speaking up, not quite a whisper but clearly low enough so I couldn’t hear, or so he thought.

“Dude, what happened? She’s sort of cute now, huh? Weird, right?” he said.

I was dizzy.

“Hmm, you think so?” I heard Reed say.

“Uh, yeah. I do,” Sean defended. I had been careful to wear my hair down during school, and I had even toyed with a little make up here and there just to feel a little more grown up.

I heard footsteps coming my direction, so I quickly leaned on my elbows, staring intently on the drawing and the line of my ruler. They were all coming to sit in here with us. Each of them taking a chair and leaning around the table. Their conversation continuing while I busied myself drawing, looking up to react every so often, smiling, just so I didn’t appear to be rude or aloof. I heard Cole’s phone conversation with Tatum. My mind took in snippets of everything. Something about a party in the desert, Reed getting a ride with them. It was as if I was washing the windows on the outside of an exclusive club. I was getting a glimpse inside, but not fully participating.

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