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“Where is your head?” he demanded angrily. “Today it seems like it’s up your ass—bottom, Sissy!”
My head was actually in Bowie’s apartment. I’d hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and I’d been playing out several scenarios in my mind, mapping our dialogue and then changing it around.
“Are you whispering because something hurts?” Sam had barked at me, and I knew that I’d been talking out loud again.
“No, I’m fine. My foot is good,” I expanded, before he had to ask. It was much better; the bones were totally healed, and the twinges and shooting pains I’d been feeling were lessening, too. My problems were mental, not physical. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I shouldn’t go over to Bowie’s. I also knew, with absolute certainty, that I wanted to go there a lot.
And that was where I directed my tires, to the downtown area where he had his apartment in the old water department building. I parked the car a few blocks away in case anyone (Ward, the informer on the Wonderwomen team, gnome spies, or my sister) might happen to see it and I put on a sweatshirt despite the August heat. I pulled up the hood past the sides of my face, so that I looked through a tunnel as shadows lengthened on the pavement that I walked quickly along.
Bowie was waiting for me in the elevator lobby on his floor once he’d buzzed me up. “Hey there, Lissa,” he said, smiling, and I said hi back to him and thought it was worth it that I’d come, it was worth it that I’d taken that cold shower in the Junior Woodsmen locker room, it was worth it to sneak around, and to lie about this afterwards. Because how nice was it to have someone happy to see you when you arrived? I was smiling back at him, too. And now he was saying, “I made dinner with some of that food I got. I’m not sure of the quality, but I have quantity covered well.”
He did. The hot dogs were already on the table, piled beside a mound of buns and what looked like all three watermelons chopped up. “It’s kind of like an indoor picnic,” he explained. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” I said, wondering how many of those hot dogs he expected me to eat. “It’s a good idea.”
“Thank you. I thought it was pretty smart to tell you that it’s an indoor picnic rather than just admitting that I can’t cook much besides hot dogs.” He paused. “Now I guess the cat’s out of the bag, though.”
“Well, I really love watermelon. And hot dogs.” I pushed my wet hair back over my shoulder. There had been no time to dry it, and unlike the bathroom we’d been using at Woodsmen Stadium, the Junior Woodsmen locker room at the practice facility didn’t even have mirrors. At least I’d been able to shower, which was more than I had done the last time I’d gone out after practice, with Ward. That was when he’d pushed me against the car and the door handle had dug into my back, and his fingers had—
“Lissa?”
“I love watermelon,” I said. “An indoor picnic is a great idea.”
“I’m glad you think so. I was asking if you wanted to sit down to eat before the hot dogs get cold so they’re just dogs.”
“Oh, I don’t like the sound of that.” I pushed the thought of Ward out of my mind. “Let’s definitely eat them while they’re hot.”
Bowie took down his share and I was starving so I helped reduce the pile, but there was no way that two humans could have eaten everything that he’d prepared. After we gave our best effort, we both surveyed the remains of the meal: a platter of lukewarm dogs, an even larger amount of buns, and at least one sliced-up melon.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I gave it my all.” I undid the top of my jean shorts, which were cutting into my stomach. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much in the week of the first game. The Wonderwomen halter top shows everything.”
“It’s only the preseason, and you’ll look beautiful in your uniform,” he answered. “I didn’t consider the size of you, again. Remember when I overestimated how long your paces would be? This time, I overestimated your appetite.” He said more words about food storage but I didn’t really catch them. Had he just told me that I would look beautiful?
I helped with the cleanup, still considering that comment. But he said things all the time that weren’t true, like how he’d claimed to have watched me tumble during games, and had pretended that he didn’t remember my horrible wedding speech. So what? He gave untruthfully kind compliments and that didn’t change my opinion that he was a nice person and I liked him.
I did. I liked him a lot.
“Hey, look here. I must have used this a few months ago and forgot to unload it,” he commented as he opened the dishwasher. “I was wondering why I only had one bowl.” He didn’t appear to know much about his kitchen, like when I dried the enormous hot dog pot he’d washed, he told me that he’d found it above the refrigerator but didn’t know why it was there. “I think it must have come with the apartment?” he asked, and then said, “Really? That’s an ice cream maker?” when I pointed to an appliance also stored in those cabinets. “I must have gotten that as a gift. Could we make ice cream with it?”
His unfamiliarity with the room made me think he didn’t use it much, which I asked about. “What do you eat, if you’re not boiling thirty hot dogs?”
“Take out. I know every delivery driver and their kids, too,” he answered. “Not all of us have your skills.” He picked up the platter that had held the watermelon and started to dry it very vigorously.
My skills? He meant when I’d made pasta, I guessed. I’d concocted the sauce out of vegetables that Martha had decided were past their prime for the NGS, but it hadn’t been bad. I felt a burst of pride. “I’d make dinner again, if you wanted me to,” I said. It didn’t sound like a very nice invitation when I put it that way. “I meant to say, you could come over and eat and I would like that.”
“I would, too. Thank you.” He smiled at me and then looked down at the platter. He’d rubbed it so hard that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a hole in it. “This seems dry.”
We talked about the upcoming game, which I was very excited about but Bowie seemed to take in stride. “It could be the start of a championship season. Seriously, Kayden Matthews is going to be great,” I argued. “He really has a rhythm now and I was thrilled when they re-signed Kellen Karma at wide receiver. Last year you guys were so good and I think this will be it. And then we’ll all get to go to Texas for the big game! I’ve never been there. I’ve never been anywhere, but I’d really like to travel.”
“What would make you happier, the Woodsmen getting championship rings or the trip?” He laughed. “No, I know what a fan you are. You didn’t mention how great the defense is, though.”
“I thought it went without saying.”
“You can go ahead and say it,” he told me, so I went in depth about how amazing they all were, especially one of the defensive tackles.
“I’ve heard about him,” Bowie told me. “Good looking, too, isn’t he? And a suave dancer.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve never seen him dance before, even though I’m supposed to be his instructor.”
