Page 41 of Off Limits
‘And the dance moves?’
‘Gymnastics from I-don’t-remember-when. Modern dance classes in middle school. My mom was a keen dancer.’
‘Was the CMC always the goal?’
‘It’s one of the best squads in the whole country. Last year I didn’t make the cut. Made me a little more determined to make it this year.’
‘Why’d you wanna be a cheerleader?’
I look out of the window. I can see the mountains in the distance, the sun already dipping low on the horizon. The traffic that was around us in the city center has petered out. ‘I don’t know. Growing up in Canyon… the Mutineers were… they were like this shining light. Something unattainable. I never went to any games. We couldn’t afford it. But I saw the girls in a show once, and on TV, and I knew I could dance as well as they could. They were so glamorous. I wanted to be like them. To have all that positivity.’
‘And now you are like them,’ he says. Except I remember that he doesn’t know me at all, because while I might be like my squad mates, there are things that none of them know about me. Those same things that I can’t tell Jake Walsh about.
When we get to the lake, I find myself craning my neck, remembering how it used to be. The access road is the same dirt track that we used to go down when I was a kid, but years of abandonment have caused the ground to become overgrown. Tree branches scrape against the pickup’s windows. The same, too, can be said for the lake. While there used to be a large clearing with sun loungers lined up in neat rows, and a food truck for refreshments, now there’s just long grass, ragweed and old tire tracks.
Jake stops the car, leans over to the glove and opens it. He pulls out a small compass and checks it, before returning it and reversing the pickup into a small patch of rocky ground. When he kills the engine, the inside of the cab falls silent.
‘Okay, this place looked a whole lot different in my mind’s eye,’ Jake declares after a moment.
I press my lips together and try not to laugh. I can just about hear the lapping of water at the lakeside.
‘Are we safe here, do you think?’ he continues.
‘Maybe ’til the sun goes down. Then we prolly shouldn’t stick around.’
‘Okay, uh… are you hungry?’
‘Sure, I could eat.’
‘Then wait here for a minute.’
He scrambles out the vehicle. I hear the back of the truck being opened, and the sound of shoes on metal. There are some scuffling sounds, and minutes later, he comes and opens my side door for me.
‘Okay, I’m all set,’ he announces. ‘You can come out now.’
I step down from the pickup and follow him as he walks backward to the rear of the vehicle. At the back, in the cargo bed, he’s laid blankets and placed a couple of bottles of Budweiser beer in a bucket. There are snacks too: corn chips and guac, popcorn and dipped pretzels.
‘I know it’s not the height of sophistication,’ he stutters, his hand once more running to the back of his neck. ‘But given our situation… I can’t take you to a restaurant and, well… well, the truth is, I can’t cook for shit.’
‘It’s perfect,’ I say as I climb up into the back and take a seat to one side.
He follows. ‘Keep one eye out for prowlers. And hungry gators.’
I laugh. ‘I’m pretty sure you could take ’em.’
‘The prowlers or the gators? A guy comes rushing at me with no helmet or a player’s jersey on, I’d prolly run the other way.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
He passes me a bottle of beer, once he’s twisted off the cap, and does the same for himself. The sky is a pretty shade of coral pink, the clouds stretching out like fish scales.
‘Can I ask you something? How come you… how come you don’t have a boyfriend? I mean, a girl like you…’ He pulls a face.
‘A girl like me, what?’
For a moment, he looks awkward. ‘A girl like you should have guys lining up around the corner just to date you.’
I shrug. ‘Maybe they ask me, but I don’t want to date them,’ I tell him.Because the kind of guys who ask me are not the kind of guys I wanna go out with.‘I could say the same about you. Young, good-looking, NFL player…’
