The Unconditional Pledge

14 Hannah

I have a big, big problem.

The more I think about it, the worse it gets. Yesterday night, I actually wasn't able to fall asleep until 3am, and this morning I'd woken up feeling as though I hadn't slept at all. The clock is counting down to the Fall Ball. If I don't complete my pledge by then, I'll lose.

"Over here!"

A shout makes me jerk my head upright. The Heights's soccer team is running drills on the field after school. Dozens of freakishly handsome boys run back and forth on the bright green grass, wiping off sweat and flexing their muscles. The testosterone in the air is nearly palpable.

I watch as one of the players stops by the water fountain and bends down, shoving his dark hair away from his face as he does. Which brings me back to my problem.

"I just wish Jay wasn't gay," someone whispers longingly behind me, and I glance back to see a group of freshman girls huddled together by the top bleachers.

"Sucks," another girl agrees.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I turn back around. I train them onto my notebook instead, on what serves as an impromptu title:

NOTES ON JAY KADEN

Very nonchalant. But I've always been a neat freak, especially when it comes to labeling. I'd originally wanted to label it by initial, but "notes on J.K." just doesn't seem serious enough.

A whisper of my name behind me makes me freeze. "But you heard he hooked up with her right?"

"Yeah, right. Seriously, people will believe anything these days."

"But what if it's true? Maybe Jay's bi, you know?"

"Yeah, and I'm Oprah. Did you see his coming-out video?"

I press my cold hands to my cheeks to cool them down, to no avail, watching as Jay picks up a soccer ball and twirls it on his finger. He shouts, "Heads up, Paulson!" as he throws the ball into the air and kicks it straight into another guy's stomach from a distance. Some girls in the front cheer and whistle appreciatively, causing Jay to turn and salute them with two fingers.

I sigh to myself, my warm breath mingling with the cool air. I'm not stupid. I know Jay's not straight. Not that he'd actually had a relationship with a guy in our school — it was once rumored that he'd hooked up with Isaac Smale, though — but it's obvious in the way that he simply isn't attracted to girls. I'd stayed up awake all night thinking about the kiss, and freaked out when he'd asked me what I thought in Home Ec earlier. I'd considered a few possibilities — one, being I was actually attractive enough to make him consider liking girls, in which I promptly began to laugh at myself internally for the rest of the day; two, that maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment decision; and most likely of all, three, that it's related to his pledge. But simply kissing me, Hannah Greene, the odd girl in school, is too easy. The pledge for the king of games has to be something much bigger, much harder.

I turn back to my notebook and twist the pen between my fingers. I hesitate before jotting down, good kicking aim below soccer fanatic, although that one's obvious. When it came to football, though, Jay sucked. There's actually a video somewhere on Youtube showing Nick attempting to tackle him and Jay promptly curling into a ball on the floor before he could.

"What the fuck was that?"

The bleachers go silent all of a sudden. I squint ahead to see Jay striding across the grass to a player sprawled on the floor. "What the fuck was that?"

The guy in question stands up, rubbing his hair shamefully, and murmurs something apologetic to Jay, who throws the ball at his feet. The other players approach the two of them warily. "You do that in the tournament, Atkinson, and we're all screwed."