Recipe for Romance

Chapter 2-4

He found her way back in the corner under the bleachers where the marching band had sat during the game. She had her arms folded against a metal strut, her forehead resting on her arms, and was sobbing softly. As he approached, he kicked through the empty soda cans and beer bottles to make a little noise so he wouldn’t startle her. Still, when he reached out to touch her shoulder, he felt her stiffen at his touch.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s alright.”

Tess sniffled loudly and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “No, it isn’t. I hate this, all of it. You don’t understand.”

“You might be surprised.” Leaning against the strut, Preston smiled down at her. When she didn’t look up at him, he tucked her hair behind her ear and asked, “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” The word came out like an angry accusation, as if her tears were somehow his fault.

“Can I guess, then?”

That caught her off-guard, finally. She glanced up and ran a finger under her eyes to wipe away any makeup that might have streaked underneath. Sniffling again, she shrugged. “Fine, you can try. But you only get three tries. You won’t get it.”

“But if I do,” Preston said, “then you have to let me take you out for ice cream.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Like a date?”

“No, just ice cream.” Preston smirked. “And if I don’t get it, you have to take me out. How’s that sound?”

With a startled laugh, she agreed. “Okay, deal. So what’s your first guess?”

Preston squinted up at the underside of the bleachers and tried to remember what had happened right before she ran off. “Um, you’re secretly in love with Shane McAllister, and you’re upset because he’s with that other girl.”

“Heather Griggs,” Tess said softly. “And no. Well—no. God, no. I’m not in love with Shane. Strike one.”

But he’d caught her hesitation and smirked. “But you are in love with Heather.”

Without warning, Tess punched him in the chest, hard enough to send him staggering back. Her face turned a mottled shade of red from her chin to the roots of her hair. “What?” she shrieked. He’d obviously struck a nerve. “Where the hell do you get off—no! She’s my—go away, will you? Go—”

“Stop!” He caught her wrists as she flailed out at him. “Tess, listen to me, stop it! Calm down, please!”

“Let me go!” She struggled against him, twisting in his grip. When she couldn’t break free, she lashed out with her legs, kicking his shins. She aimed for his knees but he still wore his pads, thank goodness. Still, it was like trying to hold a viper, twisting and twining, wearing him down. Through clenched teeth, she growled, “Let go or I’ll scream! Let go!”

Finally he managed to get her turned around so she faced away from him. That stopped the kicking, and he could pull her in close against him without getting struck by her fists. Folding his body around hers, Preston leaned over her and whispered, “Tess, listen! Your secret’s safe with me.”

“There’s no secret,” she hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a dyke!”

“No?” Preston felt his heart hammering in time with her own, which beat furiously against his chest. “I saw how upset you got over her and Shane, and if you don’t like him, then you must like her.”

“I don’t,” Tess insisted, close to tears again. “Ple-e-e-ease.”

“It’s okay.” Pressing his lips to her ear, he assured her, “I understand, I do, I told you I did. You see, I like Shane.”

Suddenly she stopped struggling. Her crying ceased. “What?”

“I’m gay, too,” he said. “You aren’t the only one.”

A weight lifted from him at the admission. It felt so good to tell someone, anyone, at last.

“Now, about that ice cream…”