Stereotypical High School Jock

            “Hey, Hailey. I have a question.” I turn around and see Thomas Spencer. He’s pretty much the stereotypical jock from those really cheesy high school drama movies.

            “What, Thomas? I’m busy,” I reply and turn back to my homework. He sits down on the picnic table beside me and lifts my notebook cover.

            “Funny, the question I was going to ask you is if you would help me with my essay, which it appears you are working on right now.”

            “Yes, I am working on it right now. What great observational skills you have, Thomas.”

            He rolls his eyes and asks again, “Will you help me with my essay, Hailey? Please? I have to make a good grade on it or Coach will kick me off the team and then I won’t be able to get into college.”

            I sigh. “Fine. When?”

            “Tonight, at my house. My parents aren’t home so it should be pretty quiet.” I give him a look of ‘Did you really just say that?’ and he defends himself. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it will be quiet so we can get some work done.”

            “Alright. Here’s my phone number,” I say, writing down on a gum wrapper, “Text me your address and I’ll be there about five.

            “Perfect. Thanks, Hailey,” he says. He walks off and into the circle the soccer team has created. From the looks on their faces, I think they’re talking about me. When the goalie, Jacob Henderson, points in my direction, I know they are.

---

            I ring the doorbell to the mansion at the address Thomas sent me. It’s at least three stories and has a huge wrap around porch with flowerboxes every two feet in either direction. I see the doorknob turn and Thomas beckons me inside. The interior of his house is even more grandiose than the outside. There’s antique furniture, portraits of him and his family, and vases and other expensive looking décor around.

            “This might be uncomfortable for you, but the best place for work is the desk in my room. We can also use the kitchen island but my mom put a lot of crap on it- flowers and woman stuff.”

            “Your room is fine, I guess.” Woman stuff, really?

            We walk up the stairs and into his room. He has a four poster bed, a flat-screen TV with a video game console, a desk with journals and notebooks on it, and a window seat. I sit at the window and he sits down at his desk.

            “So, what is the essay about again?” he asks me.

            “Seriously, Thomas?” He laughs and shrugs. “We have to write about how the Puritan settlers had certain values and what they are and how their diaries and writings expressed them.”

            “Can you really tell that much through writing and diary entries?”

            “Of course you can. The writings of a person are the most personal and deep things you can read. It’s like they’re sharing a bit of their soul with you.”

            “Wow, that was really poetic, Hailey. Maybe you should be a writer? You’d be great at writing poetry and stuff.”

            “You think?” He nods. “Well, I think you’d be great at writing that essay and you should begin it now.”

            “Ugh. Where do I even start?”

            “Well, I usually start with the body paragraphs instead of the introduction. I do the introduction and conclusion last because they’re the hardest for me. I like to get the important stuff and facts down first.”

            “Okay. So the Puritans valued religion, right?”

            “Yes, that is why they decided to come to a new country in the first place.”

            “Yeah, because the King didn’t want them practicing their religion instead of his. Okay, so I have to look through the textbook and see which writings are about religion and write about them.”

            “Yep. Make sure you use quotes from the text and also put the page number down to cite it.”

            “Okay. This might take a while, Hailes.”

            “Did you just call me ‘Hailes.”

            “Why, yes guess I did, Hailes.”

            “Write your essay, Tom.” He scowls at me but returns to working on his essay. When he’s finished with the paragraph he hands it to me to read.

            “This is actually pretty good. You misspelled Puritan though. It’s P-U-R-I-T-A-N. Don’t forget the I. But it looks nice and reads well. Good job, Tom.”

            “Will you stop calling me that?”

            “You started it.”

            “Whatever. So they also worked a lot and, like, really hard.”

            “Yep, industry. That would be them setting up their new homes and planting their crops and setting up their own little governments.”

            “Okay.”

            About thirty minutes later, he hands me the paper again. I can’t believe what a great writer he is. I don’t want to make him feel stupid so I don’t tell him that. I just say it was good.

            “Can you come by again tomorrow, Hailes? So we can work on the third body paragraph and the introduction and conclusion?”

            “Sure.”

            “Thanks, again, Hailes. You have no idea what this means to me.”

            “No problem, Tom. See ya tomorrow,” I say as I turn on my car.

---

            “Gah! I can’t think of another one,” exclaims Thomas.

            “Okay, what did it take for the Puritans to come to a completely different country that they’d never seen before and hardly even heard of before?” I ask.

            “A lot of boats?”

            “No. I mean, yes, but no. Think more on a mental level. What did they have to have mentally to come to a new foreign place?”

            “Courage?”

            “There you go!” He smiles and flips through the pages of the textbook. I read my book, enjoying the sounds of pencil writing on paper in the background. He hands me his paper and I see he’s written the third body paragraph but also the introduction.

            “When did you write the introduction?” I ask him.

            “Last night, after you left. Is it any good? I thought I would give it a shot and then ask you about today.”

            “It’s better than the one I wrote! Can I steal it?”

            “No! Absolutely not!”

            “I was just joking. But it is better than mine. How did you do that? Mine always come out horrible.”

            “I don’t know; I just did it. I remembered that you needed a topic sentence, a summary, and a thesis statement. That’s what I wrote.”

            “That’s what I do too but mine never turn out this well.”

            “I guess I found something academic that I’m better at than you. Hah!”

            “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Get back to work, Tom. Work some of your magic on that conclusion paragraph.” I stick my tongue out at him and he winks at me, taking his paper back and continuing. When he’s done, he asks if I want anything for dinner.

            “Sure, what’s on the menu?”

            “I can make spaghetti. That’s about as far as my cooking abilities extend.”

            “That’s fine,” I say and we walk downstairs to the kitchen. His mom really upped the decorating in the kitchen and he wasn’t wrong about the crap on the island. There are flowers everywhere and he pushes them aside so we have space.

            On the other side of the island is a notebook. I notice that it doesn’t appear to be for school. I look at it further and realize it’s a diary.

            Mom and Dad still aren’t back yet. I’m beginning to think they just decided to get rid of me and leave. I scan the page a little further down and I see my name. Hailey Greene has been helping me on my essay for American Lit and she’s actually a really great teacher. I’ve learned a lot from her. I know I’ll get a passing grade and be able to stay on the team. She so smart and pretty funny. I might think about asking her out but I don’t think the guys would want me to. They all have these stunning girlfriends but they’re so boring. Hailey isn’t. Ugh, I don’t know what to do but-

            “Anything interesting?” I jerk my head up and Thomas is looking at me. He doesn’t seem mad but I know I just invaded his privacy big time.

            “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I-“

            “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. The noodles are done.” He puts his plate on the island and sits down. I sit next to him. We’re both silent for a few minutes but then he speaks.

            “My parents aren’t around much. They travel a lot. My dad travels for business and my mom always goes with him. Sometimes, I’m here alone for weeks. That causes all of the rumors at school of girls and parties.”

            “So they aren’t true then?”

            “Well, I do have parties every now and then. Not every weekend like people say and they aren’t as wild as everyone says either. But the girls. None of those rumors are true. I’ve had girls over but… Can I tell you something?”

            “Sure.”

            “I know this is a weird thing to tell someone but…I’m a virgin. And I think I’m okay with that. I don’t want to do it with just anyone like the other guys do, you know?”

            “You’re right. That is a very odd thing to confess. But, reasonable. So, you don’t hook up with girls every night. I thought that was a lie or a rumor. I mean after a while I’d think it would be difficult to do every single night.”

            He laughs. “Yeah. Sorry about the awkward turn of conversation, Hailes. I just hate that everyone sees me as such a player and sex addict.”

            “I understand. People just view me as the nerdy girl from chemistry class. That puts a real damper on the ego.”

            “I think nerds are cool. Everyone’s interested in something, right? Sport, video games, books, doesn’t matter,” he says.

            “Yeah. It doesn’t.”

            “I think you’re pretty great, Hailey.”

            “You’re alright too, Thomas.”

            He leans closer to me and my heart starts beating faster. Is he gonna… is he really going to… Okay, calm down. Calm.

            His lips meet mine and he places his hand on my cheek. The kiss deepens as I wrap my arm around his neck. We pull apart.

            “You have no idea how much I wanted to do that.” I smile at him and he kisses me again. I glance to my right and see the time on the clock says 8:00.

            “Crap.”

            “Not something you want to hear after you kiss someone, Hailes.”

            “Ha, ha. No, I have to go before my dad starts flipping out.” He walks me to the door to say goodbye and kisses me on the cheek. I smile the entire drive home.

---

            “Hailes! Hailes!” yells Thomas from behind me in the hallway.

            “Um. Why is Thomas Spencer yelling ‘Hailes’ and running toward you?” Kate asks me. I sigh and walk meet him in the middle of the hallway. He pulls me into the girls’ bathroom and wrestles with his bag.

            “Why, of all the places, did you choose the girls’ bathroom, Thomas? The library is literally next door.”

            “Shh, Hailes. Look,” he says, holding up his American Literature essay. 98.

            “That’s amazing, Thomas!” He pulls me closer to him and hugs me.

            “I couldn’t have done it without you, Hailes. Coach says I can continue to play on the team for the rest of the season.” I lean in to kiss him but he moves his head and puts the paper back in his bag. “Not here, Hailes. Come over to my house tonight.”

            “Are you embarrassed by me, Thomas?”

            “I just-“

            “You just don’t want anyone to know you’re with the nerd from chemistry class. Yeah, Thomas. I’m glad you got a good grade on your essay and you can continue to play soccer,” I say as I leave the bathroom.

            My phone keeps vibrating through all of my classes. Thomas is texting me, saying he’s sorry and that he didn’t mean it ‘that way.’ Is there any other way to mean it? He asks me if I’m still coming over to his house later and I think about it for a few minutes.

            I guess. Sent 3:17pm.

---

            “Hailey, I really like you. I just am not ready to go public yet, okay? Give me a few more days. I want it to be only us for a little while. Like our little secret. Do you understand?”

            “Yeah, sure.” He kisses me but I don’t kiss him back. He pulls away and frowns. Really? his eyes say.

            He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

            “Put me down! Put me down, Thomas!” I scream while laughing.

            “Never!” he yells back and throws me on the couch. He starts tickling me and my body squirms under his.

            “Stop! Stop!” I say in-between giggles.

            “Are you gonna kiss me now?”

            “Yes, yes. Stop! I’ll do it,” I laugh.

            He stops and I sit up. I grab his shirt and pull him closer to me. My lips touch his and I say, “Don’t ever do that to me again, Thomas.” He nods and I kiss him. I open my mouth wider and our tongues dance. He makes a slight groan in the back of his throat and pulls me on top of him so I’m sitting on his lap.

            I look at him and stare into his eyes. We stay like that for a few seconds and then the doorbell rings. His smile fades away and he picks me up and places me beside him on the couch. He stands and goes to the door.

            “I had to sign for a package. It’s probably something my mom ordered. I hope it isn’t more fake flowers.”

            I laugh and he sits down next to me again. “Come to my game Thursday night.”

            “I have to ask my dad.”

            “Promise me you’ll be there. You’re the only reason I can play anyways.”

            “I have to ask my dad.”

            “Promise me,” he whispers and kisses me lightly.

            “Fine, I promise.”

---

            The stadium is packed but I get a seat right in the middle of the middle row. A perfect view. The players are already on the field and I spot Thomas. He looks up at the bleaches and I smile and give a slight wave. He must have seen me because he gives a smile and a slight nod in my direction.

            The game starts and about twenty minutes in, a player on our team gets a goal. They celebrate by jumping up and down and take a short water break.

            Then, they’re back on the field. We are still winning when a player on the opposite team runs behind Thomas and steps on his leg. He falls and holds his knee. He grimaces in pain and the referee whistles for everyone to stop playing.

Everyone’s looking but I didn’t care. I run to him anyway, ignoring the opposite team’s coach and teachers telling me to stop. I run onto the field and to Thomas. His face tells me he’s in a lot of pain.

“Hailes.”

“Hey,” I say and he grabs my hand. The school nurse comes down from the stands and comes to check on his leg. She says it isn’t broken but he will need crutches for a week. She helps me get him into my car and I drive him home.

“I just got back! Coleson had to go screw that up!”

“It’s fine. You’ll be back on the field in two weeks.”

“There’s a key buried in the flowerpot on the right windowsill. I have crutches in the closet in the hallway.”

“How often are you on crutches?” I ask. He laughs and I go get them. I make sure he gets inside safely and tell him that I have to go home.

“Alright. Can you pick me tomorrow morning for school?” I nod and leave.

---

“Thanks, Hailes.”

“You could have just stayed home today and rested. I don’t think anyone would be upset with you.”

“My mom would be.”

“Your mom should have come to see you when she heard you got hurt, not just say she hoped you felt better.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just my mom.”

We drive to school in silence and I help him out of my car. We walk up to the doors and I push the handicap button for him.

“Thanks,” he says sarcastically. I smile and laugh.

“Hey, dude! How’s the leg? Ow, crutches. Gross, man.”

“Yeah. Tyler, this Hailey. Hailey, this is Tyler.”

“Sup, Hailey.”

“Sup…,” I say uncertainly.

Thomas and Tyler laugh. Thomas heads to his locker and I hold one of his crutches for him while he puts his things away. Tyler is recounting the events of what happened after Thomas went home. They won the game. Thomas lets out a loud “whoop.”

Then, the rest of the soccer team gathers around Thomas, Tyler, and I. They all give me a weird look but turn back to Thomas to talk to him about the game too.

The bell rings and they all start heading for their classes. Before I turn around to go to mine, Thomas grabs my hand, while trying to balance on his crutches.

He hops closer to me and can tell what he’s about to do.

“You sure?” I ask.

“What the hell!” he says and kisses me in front of the whole soccer team. There are various yells and chants about getting a room but I don’t hear them. I focus on the soft lips pressed against mine.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Excellent story! This is banging on all cylinders! There are periodic build-ups of tension, then things smooth out for a little while, & over & over, this play of tension is so well done to carry the suspense & curiosity of the reader. Your details & dialogue sound so realistic, everything unfolds at a good clip, not too long & drawn out for online readers with short attention spans. All your details are woven in a sensible way, with no discrepancies & hanging issues . . . everything you bring into the story has a purpose. You are an amazing writer! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie