Recipe for Romance

Chapter 2-2

Back in high school, Preston Andrew Pruitt and Teresa Louise Williamson had been the It Couple. Everybody wanted to know them, be them, or be with them. King and Queen of the prom, star athlete and head cheerleader, Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. If they ever bothered to go to any of their reunions, their former classmates would not have been the least bit surprised to learn that not only did Preston and Tess still know each other, but they had a child together, as well.

What would’ve scandalized the Class of 2000 was that not only were they not married, but they never had been. Abby had been conceived in vitro because Tess wanted a baby and asked Preston to be the father. They weren’t married, weren’t dating; they weren’t even lovers, and never had been, even back in high school.

They were both gay.

Preston had always been one of those unabashedly handsome guys with dark hair and soulful eyes who found themselves the center of attention as if by accident. Academics and athletics both came easy to him. He was a straight A student and played sports all four years of high school—all sports, from basketball to football to track, anything that got him outdoors and on the playing field, and would look good on a college application.

Or, at least, that’s what he had told his parents.

In reality, the only reason Preston joined all those sports teams was to gain access to the locker rooms. He’d always known he liked guys—really liked them, in the way other guys liked girls—but he didn’t have the words to put those feelings into and didn’t know anyone who felt the same way he did. Hanging around the locker rooms with other boys his own age dressed only in towels or jockstraps or, God forbid, buck-ass naked were guaranteed cheap thrills that fueled his wet dreams and masturbatory fantasies all throughout high school. As long as he didn’t stare openly or look at one guy for too long, no one suspected anything. No one ever suspected the school’s attractive all-star athlete of being queer as a three dollar bill.

Plus, Tess was the perfect cover.

Blonde and bubbly, Tess Williamson was the kind of girl everyone envied. She had it all—looks, money, personality—and she had it in spades. If she hadn’t been so damn nice to everyone, she would’ve been the school’s resident b***h, but she didn’t seem to realize she had that option. She said hi to everyone in the halls, no matter who they were, what class they were in; hell, she even spoke to teachers, and treated the Special Ed kids as if they were human, which was an unheard of concept in her clique-ridden high school. Her family moved to Colonial Pines the start of her freshman year, and it didn’t take long before everyone knew her, or knew of her, and liked what they saw.

But underneath it all, Tess had a secret, one few suspected. The girl who knew everyone, who smiled throughout the day and waved and laughed, the perky young teen with the smooth hair and flawless skin who made the cheerleading squad on her first try even though they never took freshmen, ever…the real girl underneath the thick mascara and lip gloss had no friends.

Oh, she knew people. She knew everyone, in fact, and they knew of her. They knew her father was military, and her family had lived all over the world, and they’d just transferred to Fort Lee from a long stint overseas in Germany. But they didn’t know her because she wouldn’t let them. No one would have liked her if they knew the real Tess. Like how her father had taken her to the shooting range with him once when she was eight only to discover she was a crack shot with a dead eye. Or how she wanted nothing more than to shear off her long hair into a crop cut, smear some camouflage paint over her face, and disappear into the woods for a wilderness weekend.

Or how attracted she was to Heather Griggs, the lead cheerleader who had given Tess a fierce, sisterly hug when she was accepted to the squad and whose breasts had felt like twin pillows pressed against Tess’s own.

No one knew those things because no one asked, thank God, and she didn’t offer up the information, either. At first, it seemed easy to slip into the role they wanted her to play—pretty, popular girl, maybe a little ditzy at times, but not too dumb, because she had to keep up her grades if she wanted to get into the Army like her father when she graduated. Cheerleading kept her busy, and distracted, all those tight, teenage bodies pressed together on the school bus as they traveled together between games and practices, the girls comfortable with each other, never once suspecting their innocent brushes might mean anything more to her.

But it was wearying, and things came to a head one evening in late fall after the homecoming game. Their team had won by a landslide, 63 to 14, and as fans filed out of the high school football stadium, Tess overheard a lot of drunken laughter and more than one person call out, “Did the other team even show up?” She stood by the base of the bleachers with the rest of the squad, shivering in her barely there skirt and V-neck crop top, watching Heather out of the corner of her eye. Heather was high on their win and still cheering about it; with every shake of her pom-poms, her bosom jiggled and threatened to spill out of her top.

Please, God, Tess prayed, watching her squad leader covertly. I’ve never wanted anything my whole entire life more than I do this right here. Where was a wardrobe malfunction when she needed it?

Suddenly a couple of dirty, sweaty football players came barreling in off the field. The cheerleaders grew louder, showing their appreciation, and a couple of the guys broke away from the pack to scoop up their girlfriends in victory. Tess looked away in disgust, but not before she saw two grimy hands cover Heather’s pristine white shirt, stretched taut across her ample breasts. “Shane!” Heather shrieked in delight, turning into her boyfriend’s embrace.

That was it, the breaking point, the final straw. Tess couldn’t stand it anymore. Who was she kidding? This wasn’t her scene; these weren’t the type of people she wanted to hang out with. Tossing down her pom-poms, she stormed off, hot tears burning her eyes. Someone might have called her name, but if they did, she didn’t stop, just kept walking for the dark, empty space beneath the bleachers where she could be by herself with nothing but the ache in her heart for company.

Why was life so unfair? Did she have to go through four whole years of this crap before she could become who she knew she truly was inside? She didn’t want to wait that long. She didn’t think she had it in her to suffer in silence all alone.