The Unconditional Pledge

8 Jay

In my dream, I'm standing alone in the middle of Fieldbrook Heights's soccer field. And then I realize Courtney is standing next to me. Like the day I'd come out to her — the same day we'd broken up — her mascara is running down her cheeks and her face is red. "Tell them, Jay," she sobs, and I realize she's pointing ahead at the entire school, now sitting on the bleachers gaping at us. "Tell them what you told me."

I open my mouth effortlessly to say something — to say, "Well, sorry ladies, but I am, indeed, gay," but for some reason the words don't come out of my mouth, because my eyes have suddenly fallen on one girl on the bleachers. Ava's eye contact makes it impossible for me to choke the words out, so I end up just standing there, listening to Courtney's crying. All in all, not on my top ten list of favorite dreams.

The sounds of a ticking clock rouse me from my sleep. When my eyes open, all I can see at first is flowery wallpaper. I roll onto my side so that the soft pink sheets get tangled with my legs. I freeze, the fact that I don't have flowery wallpaper or pink sheets occurring to me, and realize I'm naked except for my boxers and socks. I glance at the head of curls besides me.

It's been a long, long time since I've been even remotely this close to a girl.

I glance back at Dana again. She's definitely pretty, with almond shaped eyes and shiny auburn hair, more shapely than most of the girls in the Heights. As I stare at her, she stirs slightly, nose twitching. "Jay," she mutters slowly, before her eyes drift close again.

I look around for my shirt, finding it on top of a lacy red bra and shorts. Feeling like I'm somehow violating her privacy, I lean forward and pluck it out of the pile. After scanning her room, I retreat quietly out the door into the hall, feeling a sudden rush of triumph.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't sleep with Dana Cruz — well, okay, I slept with her in the technical sense, but I didn't actually do the act. I'd only made out with her for a while until she finally fell asleep on my chest. Thank god, because I don't think I would have been able to do anything more than that.

I wince as I press a hand to my neck and step down the stairs, feeling the hickey Juliby had given me last week when I'd gone through with it the first time. I'd told Dana the blossoming red spot was an allergic reaction to something, but I wonder how she'd react if I told her the truth. They both didn't question it, probably flattered into thinking I was actually attracted to them. During both times, the same thoughts rushed through my head: the pledge, think of the pledge.

As soon as I get into my car, I breathe out and lean my head against the steering wheel. Get a hold of yourself, Kaden. What the fuck do you think you're doing?

What I'm doing, I answer myself, are girls. More importantly, the pledge. I have to win this year. It's bad enough that last year I'd come close to losing — trying to seduce a P.E. teacher is harder than you think. This year should be easier in comparison.

I speed out of the driveway, mentally waving goodbye to the three-story Cruz house with a rush of relief. I've never been attracted to girls, but then again, I wasn't sure I liked guys either until sixth grade, when I'd seen Preston Mathers half-naked in Josh's house. It was, to say the least, a life-changing moment.

By the time I finally turn down Azure Street, my mind's racing between incomprehensible thoughts and images again. On Juliby's couch, when she'd tried to urge off my pants but I'd left before she could; on Dana's bed, where she'd run her hands through my hair so many times it probably still smells like coconut hand lotion; and in Taco Shack, where Ava and I had talked so effortlessly, so naturally. It'd been a long, long time since I could actually talk to someone like that, guy or girl. And then it occurs to me how odd it is that Ava's on my mind, when she isn't even part of my pledge.

I step out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. I picture a hot shower, steaming hot water washing away all the images branded into my mind, and exhale deeply. If I hurry, I can make it to homeroom with a few minutes to spare.

I don't walk far before a figure leaning against the garage door catches my attention. "Greene," I say in surprise. "Already coming back for more?"

She ignores my last comment even though two bright patches appear on her cheeks, turning her attention to the hickey on my neck. I shift my shirt over it as subtly as I can, but too late. "No need," Hannah says breezily, eyeing my wrinkled clothes. "Looks like you've got that covered."

She's already in the school uniform, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Unlike most girls in the school, she hasn't rolled up the waistband on her skirt so that it barely reaches mid-thigh or unbuttoned the top of her shirt. She does, however, have a bright pink stripe in her hair and circles under her eyes that she hasn't bothered to cover with makeup. I can see why Nick likes her — she's everything a Fieldbrook girl isn't. "Maybe so," I say as casually as I can. "What do you want?"

A conflicted look replaces Hannah's expression, making her wrinkle her nose. She uncrosses her arms, smooths her blazer out, before crossing them again. "I need something from you."

I raise my eyebrows. Her choice of words is amusing, and I can't help it — I reply, "Oh gosh. My mother warned me this is what happened to attractive boys in high school."

She cracks a smile but doesn't come closer. "Don't flatter yourself, Kaden."

"Who needs flattering when you have a face like this?" I say, leaning against the hood of the car. She smirks at me, her lips turning up at the corners. "And a body like this?" I gesture to my body with a flourish, like a bikini model.

Hannah rolls her eyes. "You already know why I'm here."

I think back to the other morning, when I'd caught Hannah and some other girl actually watching me through binoculars on my street. After I'd laughed internally for two minutes straight, I'd pulled out my phone and called her. I glance back at the spot they'd been parked at and suppress a laugh. "Not everyday you catch a Peeping Han at your window."

Hannah ignores me and keeps speaking, tucking a stray strand of pink behind her ear. "Look. Neither of us wants this, I know. But I'm pretty sure what your pledge is, and you already know the gist of mine. We can get this goddamn pledge over with and both pass, no strings attached."

I repeat, "No strings attached," feeling her words echo in my mind. I think it over, realizing that she's right. We could hook up, and I'd get my share of the pledge done, regardless of whatever her pledge has to do with me. But whatever it is, it can't be just making out with me — that's too simple. The game was designed by Nick and I to be anything but simple. "None."

Suddenly, Hannah's eyes widen and she backs away into the shade, pressing herself into the garage door. I'm confused, until I realize she thinks I'm about to attack her with my mouth, and a wide smile breaks across my face. I take a few steps forward, faking a serious expression. "Then let's get this over with, Greene," I say as seriously as I can, and walk forward until my face is only a few inches away from her's. In her eyes, my reflection leers back at me. From here, I can smell her chapstick and apple scented shampoo, a combination that's surprisingly pleasant.

"No!" she squeals suddenly and pushes me back so hard I almost topple onto the hood of my car. Her face is flushed bright red as she avoids my eyes and darts past me, almost tripping off the driveway, hurrying past my car to get across the street. "Not here," she calls back, her voice nervous and high-pitched. "I'll, um, call you."

I stand in the driveway holding my breath as I watch her speed out of my street so fast I'm surprised there isn't a car-shaped cartoon hole in the area where she'd been. Hannah glances back at me in the rearview mirror before turning out of my street, and that's when I let myself breathe and burst out laughing.