Damon text messaged her regularly just to say hi. He smiled at her in Lit. and world history class. She always smiled back but there was never enough time to talk. Brielle had to be off the phone by ten o’clock during the school week and Damon worked most evenings. Sneaking phone calls after hours would get her phone snatched by her father. Brielle didn’t want to risk it. Damon finally ran into her at her locker on Friday afternoon.
“Hey, girl,” he said.
“Hey, boy,” she replied. She put her trig book into the locker and took out her materials for speech class.
“What you got up this weekend?” he asked. There was a football game tonight. Chauncey had asked him to come to support and Damon was excited about possibly spending time with Brielle.
“I’m going to the game tonight,” she said. “I’ve got a meet tomorrow at Charlotte High School. Saturday night, nada. Sunday is church and debutante meeting, I think.”
“I’m off tonight,” he said. “I’ve got to work Saturday night. Can I hang with you at the game?”
Brielle was thrilled, but tried not to let on.
“I’m going to be there with my girls,” she said.
“That’s cool,” he said. He wasn’t crazy about hanging with his sister’s crew, but he really wanted to spend a little time with Brielle. “I’m off Sunday. Maybe we can get together and study Sunday evening.”
“That’s straight,” said Brielle. “Well, I have to go to class.” She walked away from him, disappointed that he hadn’t asked her to homecoming. The past couple of years she’d gone to the dance with a group of girls and boys from the school, but this year, Brielle really wanted to go with Damon. On a real date.
Damon watched her go with frustration in his eyes. In his opinion, Brielle had been blowing him off for the last week and he was tired of it. He didn’t know what it was about Brielle that charged him up, but he wasn’t used to being given the brush off. He’d meant what he said about being okay if she told him that she didn’t want to be his girl, but the longer she made him wait, the less certain he was that he could stand by his word. He resolved in the space of two breaths, that Brielle was going to like him as much as he liked her or he was going to know why not. He was in a foul mood for the rest of the school day.
Damon
The day eased into a mild late September evening. So far it had been an Indian summer, warm and good smelling. The temperature cooled off in the evening to make perfect football weather, not too hot to cuddle, but not too cold so you couldn’t get close to your girl because she had on ten layers of clothing to ward off the chill. The varsity game was scheduled for seven. Damon was waiting outside the gates of the football field when Brielle’s mother drove up. Five girls got out of the car. Damon recognized Brielle, Sammie, Kyzie and Melina, but not the fifth girl. The fifth girl smiled as soon as she laid eyes on him.
“Hi –I,” she said, making the word into two syllables.
“Was-sup,” he said with a nod. He walked over to the car and said hello to Brielle and Kyzie’s mother through the open passenger door window.
“Hello, Mrs. Bronson,” he said.
“Oh, hello Damon,” she said. “How are you doing? How’s your mom?”
“Good, thanks,” he said. He stood aside while she gave Brielle and her sister last minute instructions about their behavior and then drove off.
“Hey, Bri,” he said. She smiled back at him shyly “Jada is already inside. She’ll hold bleacher space for us.”
Brielle introduced Damon to the fifth girl, whose name was Asia.
“How are you?”
“Good,” Asia said. Then she grabbed Sammie by the arm and giggled. The other girls started walking toward the gate to enter the football game, but Damon stopped Brielle by putting his hand lightly on her arm.
“Wait a minute,” he said.
“What?”
“Um, you look nice tonight,” he said. And she did. She was wearing black jeans that looked tight enough to have been painted on, a black and gold swim tee shirt and her black leather letter jacket. She had on black patent leather tennis shoes to complete the outfit and was carrying a tiny black patent leather purse.
“Thank you,” said Brielle. “You look good, too.”
“Did- did you think about being my girl?” he asked, stumbling over the words. He wanted to sink into the concrete with embarrassment but settled for a flush under his cheek bones. One downfall of the girls being so aggressive was that Damon had no skills when it came to compliments or cool conversation. He’d never needed to spit any so his game was weak.
Brielle blushed. She had thought of nothing else. Damon looked genuinely worried that she might say no.
“I don’t remember being asked to be your girl,” said Brielle. Damon’s eyebrows snapped together so quickly that Brielle blinked in surprise.
“What did we talk about?” he asked.
“Well,” she said. “You talked about how you’d been with some crazy girl who you dogged to get sex, and that I could say no if I didn’t want to be your girl.”
“Okay, then,” said Damon. “But I didn’t dog her for sex. She was giving it up. I dogged her to get away from her.”
“Whatever,” said Brielle, hands on her waist. “Your behavior was disrespectful.”
“True,” he said, hanging his head. “So I guess the answer is no, huh?”
“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girl. You just told me it was okay if I didn’t want to be. You said you wouldn’t be mad or anything,” said Brielle, folding her arms in front of her.
“Oh,” said Damon, head snapping up in surprise. He replayed the conversation in his head. “You’re right.”
“And?” prompted Brielle.
“I lied,” said Damon. “I’d be really upset if you said
