Waiting on the Sidelines

After some serious thought, I sent him a text over the holidays wishing him a Merry Christmas. Surprisingly, he sent back a picture of his smiling face in front of his tree and fireplace. It was amazingly decorated – they must have hired someone, I thought, knowing two men couldn’t pull that look off.

I looked at the self-portrait Reed had sent more than I should over the break. But I tucked it back into my taboo file when school started again and I spotted Tatum and Reed holding hands through the quad.

After a few weeks, being friends with Reed was getting easier. We made each other laugh in science and accepted two green medals that we were given for honorable mention prizes in the district sustainability contest for our project. The class joked that we were the green team and I nicknamed Reed ‘the Hulk’ in the spirit of it all. Our texts were even more regular and caused me less stress. He would ask me my opinion on the upcoming NFL draft or basketball, impressed when I was able to keep up with the text-versation. I could tell he was trying to stump me, and whenever I wasn’t sure about something, I consulted Mike, who I had to call now that he’d moved out, and my dad. Reed and I were friends, yes, but I still wanted to remain cool in his eyes.

Track season was starting and I was looking forward to spending my afternoons running for miles with my headphones on. I had brought my own spikes to school and was lacing them up on the bleachers when I heard Reed and a few other guys walking up.

“Noles!” Sean said, sliding onto the bench next to me and putting his arm over my shoulder. “How’s my girl?” he added, suspiciously.

“Uh… fine, I guess?” I said, scrunching my brows trying to figure out what he was up to. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Coach wants us to spend the spring running, and I think I’ll be pretty good at shot put,” Reed said.

“Oh, yeah. I bet,” I supported. He would be good, if he could get the technique down, I thought.

A few more people joined us in the bleachers and finally Coach Baker walked up and sat on the railing facing us all. He wasn’t the head track coach, but he was the head football coach, and that trumped Coach Stills, who also happened to be a woman. In this good-old-boy’s town, she definitely wasn’t in charge. She ran the practice and the drills, though, and Coach Baker let her without interference, given her three national championships from her time at Arizona State.

“OK, folks. Here’s how’s it’s going to go,” Coach Baker started. Reed chuckled a little next to Sean, and they both ribbed each other. They’ve heard this speech before, I thought. It dawned on me that Sean’s arm was still draped over my shoulder. I was curious by it, not wanting it to draw the attention of the coaches. Though I didn’t entirely mind, it seemed strange. Not wanting to be singled out, though, I stood up to stretch my legs and work my feet into my shoes, an excuse but it didn’t seem to draw a reaction from Sean.

We started practice with a laps exercise. The runner in front would set the pace and the runner at the back would sprint to the front and set a new pace. After about three laps, we all made a pact to gradually slow the pace down some. We were getting away with it until it started to drag a little too much and Coach Stills decided to join us and reset the pace to her more college-level speed. Grumbling made its way down the line, and that’s when I heard a breathy whistle behind me. Sean was running behind me, grinning ear to ear. I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly and was even less sure of the meaning.

“What was that?” I said over my shoulder.

“Just enjoying the view,” he smiled.

I snapped forward, immediately flushed.

Sean’s flirtatious comments and overly friendly touching continued for the next few weeks. I didn’t react to them, but I also didn’t stop them. Tatum decided to join the track team, too. I rarely came in contact with her, she was long jumping and running wasn’t really her focus. I think she just joined the team to spend more time with Reed. Things were approaching normal and I was starting to feel like I was my own person again, not trapped by raw neediness and disappointment.

It was the day of our travel meet in Yuma and I was packing a few things from my gym locker in my bag when I noticed Tatum’s bronzed legs slide over on the bench next to me. “He’s into you, you know,” she said, stopping my heart for a brief moment.

“I’m sorry?” I said, not turning to reveal the shock in my face.

“Sean. He’s totally into you,” she said. “You should hook up with him. You guys would be so cute”