tenure.”
~~~
“How about a snack before I take you home?” Alex braked to a stop at a traffic light. “You barely ate any of your dinner.”
Emma rubbed her stomach. Somehow he always seemed to know when she was hungry. In the last month, her belly had gotten as hard as a watermelon. Pretty soon it would be as big as one. “That sounds good. Just as long as we go someplace other than the diner.”
She had no desire to watch Brandy jiggle her big boobs at Alex again that night.
“Ice cream at Friendly’s?”
“Mmmm. I’ve had a craving for pistachio all week.”
He smiled and reached for her hand to squeeze it. “Just as long as you don’t order any pickles with it.”
While he drove to the ice cream parlor, she tried to imagine what her dad’s reaction would’ve been to their news. Most likely he would’ve been just as opposed to them getting married as Alex’s father was.
They’d driven around all evening and talked, but they hadn’t really settled anything.
“You know, I don’t blame your dad for being upset. He’s invested a lot into helping you train. He wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t disappointed at the thought of you blowing your shot at the pros.”
“I know. But I could do that just as easily without getting married.”
She studied him in the dim light from the headlights behind them. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” His jaw flexed as he stared ahead at the road.
Obviously nothing was something.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is Penn State’s a lot bigger pond, and I’m gonna be a minnow there. For all we know, I could get cut from the team the first week of training.”
“Yeah, right. Everyone knows the only reason our high school won the state championship for the last three years is ‘cause of you.”
“Tell that to fumbling Phil and his fulminating father.”
Emma smiled. Now she understood why Alex had scored so high on his SATs. She had to go home a look up fulminate . No way would she admit to him she had no idea what it meant. Nothing good she was sure, since he’d been describing Dr. Carmichael.”
The creepy chiropractor’s son, Phil, had been Alex’s rival for the position of quarterback for four years running. The jerk was constantly challenging Alex to stupid contests ranging from how many push-ups they could do to the number of hot dogs they could wolf down without barfing.
“And don’t forget, Em, football is a team sport. My dad’s coaching had a lot more to do with those championships than anything one player ever did, regardless of whether it was me or Carmichael in the huddle.”
She couldn’t stand the guy. From the day she started school back in September, he’d been hitting on her and making lewd remarks. And since she’d started dating Alex, Phil had only gotten cruder.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t complain to Alex or Mr. M. They had enough problems with the pervert and his father, Dr. Carmichael, who had made a scene at practically every game that season, badmouthing Alex’s performance on the field and trying to undermine his dad’s coaching decisions.
“Speak of the devil,” Alex muttered as he opened her car door at Friendly’s.
Phil strutted up to the Aston Martin, accompanied by several of Alex’s football buddies. The jerk wore his red hair spiked and shaved nearly to the scalp on the sides. In his white T-shirt, the big goon reminded her of Foghorn Leghorn.
“So, Emma, I hear you’re not the sweet little priss you pretend to be.” The big rooster turned and sneered at Alex. “What’d your dad say about you knocking up your girlfriend?”
Alex grabbed Phil by his T-shirt and rammed him against the fender. “You’d better shut your filthy trap, Carmichael, or you’re gonna need daddy to give you an adjustment after I get through beating the shit outta you.”
“Please, Alex, don’t start anything.” Emma tugged on his arm. “The maggot’s not worth it. Let’s just go inside.”
Apparently,
~~~
“How about a snack before I take you home?” Alex braked to a stop at a traffic light. “You barely ate any of your dinner.”
Emma rubbed her stomach. Somehow he always seemed to know when she was hungry. In the last month, her belly had gotten as hard as a watermelon. Pretty soon it would be as big as one. “That sounds good. Just as long as we go someplace other than the diner.”
She had no desire to watch Brandy jiggle her big boobs at Alex again that night.
“Ice cream at Friendly’s?”
“Mmmm. I’ve had a craving for pistachio all week.”
He smiled and reached for her hand to squeeze it. “Just as long as you don’t order any pickles with it.”
While he drove to the ice cream parlor, she tried to imagine what her dad’s reaction would’ve been to their news. Most likely he would’ve been just as opposed to them getting married as Alex’s father was.
They’d driven around all evening and talked, but they hadn’t really settled anything.
“You know, I don’t blame your dad for being upset. He’s invested a lot into helping you train. He wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t disappointed at the thought of you blowing your shot at the pros.”
“I know. But I could do that just as easily without getting married.”
She studied him in the dim light from the headlights behind them. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” His jaw flexed as he stared ahead at the road.
Obviously nothing was something.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is Penn State’s a lot bigger pond, and I’m gonna be a minnow there. For all we know, I could get cut from the team the first week of training.”
“Yeah, right. Everyone knows the only reason our high school won the state championship for the last three years is ‘cause of you.”
“Tell that to fumbling Phil and his fulminating father.”
Emma smiled. Now she understood why Alex had scored so high on his SATs. She had to go home a look up fulminate . No way would she admit to him she had no idea what it meant. Nothing good she was sure, since he’d been describing Dr. Carmichael.”
The creepy chiropractor’s son, Phil, had been Alex’s rival for the position of quarterback for four years running. The jerk was constantly challenging Alex to stupid contests ranging from how many push-ups they could do to the number of hot dogs they could wolf down without barfing.
“And don’t forget, Em, football is a team sport. My dad’s coaching had a lot more to do with those championships than anything one player ever did, regardless of whether it was me or Carmichael in the huddle.”
She couldn’t stand the guy. From the day she started school back in September, he’d been hitting on her and making lewd remarks. And since she’d started dating Alex, Phil had only gotten cruder.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t complain to Alex or Mr. M. They had enough problems with the pervert and his father, Dr. Carmichael, who had made a scene at practically every game that season, badmouthing Alex’s performance on the field and trying to undermine his dad’s coaching decisions.
“Speak of the devil,” Alex muttered as he opened her car door at Friendly’s.
Phil strutted up to the Aston Martin, accompanied by several of Alex’s football buddies. The jerk wore his red hair spiked and shaved nearly to the scalp on the sides. In his white T-shirt, the big goon reminded her of Foghorn Leghorn.
“So, Emma, I hear you’re not the sweet little priss you pretend to be.” The big rooster turned and sneered at Alex. “What’d your dad say about you knocking up your girlfriend?”
Alex grabbed Phil by his T-shirt and rammed him against the fender. “You’d better shut your filthy trap, Carmichael, or you’re gonna need daddy to give you an adjustment after I get through beating the shit outta you.”
“Please, Alex, don’t start anything.” Emma tugged on his arm. “The maggot’s not worth it. Let’s just go inside.”
Apparently,
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