PURSUIT: A Novel – 13: Homecoming

Flintrock High School, Kansas – October 1982

Steam coated the black, monster truck’s windows. A large oak canopy shadowed the truck from the full moon. Deep in the solitude of the park, Christina nestled in the arms of the star quarterback that turned a four-year losing streak into a conference championship. Blake had become the county hero.

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Earlier that evening, the county celebrated Flintlock’s homecoming where Blake led the team in a slaughterhouse victory that drowned their opponents in the wake of a four-touchdown lead as the marching band took the field and then added two more to the tally by the final countdown. A landslide of votes crowned Blake and Christina as homecoming king and queen. His charisma propelled girls and guys alike to select this popular couple for the fairytale event that drew a crowd of the entire student body, townsfolk, farmers, and ranchers from Flint County. Christina drew her own following as a freshman when she became a state gymnast champion. This fanciful pageantry dated back to the school’s early years of football where the first crowned couple rode in an ornately decorated, open carriage drawn by Belgian Draft horses. Christina’s dazzling purple satin gown reminiscent of royalty magnified her elegance as the white-gloved coachman assisted her to step into the carriage.

Last summer following her freshman year at Flintrock, Christina blossomed into the beauty of her mother with features that distinguished her from the typical Kansan cowgirl. Her olive, translucent complexion, high cheekbones, and satiny waves of blue-black hair caused one to wonder about the origin of her father. She knew he was Italian, yet her surname did not reflect that, Rogers being her mother’s maiden name.

Blake, a Texan transplant, got what he wanted, whether it be his jacked-up turbo-diesel monster truck, his call for the football plays, or his way with girls. Christina was flattered when Blake asked her to the school’s social opener, a barn dance that his father sponsored to flash his prominence as a Kansan King Rancher and his heritage as a Texan cattleman. Christina fell for the senior’s rock chiseled features and his naturally commanding demeanor of having it all together. The reputation he brought to Flint County was that of his dad, a ranching magnate to whom it was difficult to say no.

A DJ spun the vinyl as the boot studded students hammered the wooden dance floor that covered the center of the horse arena. Blake and Christina hung out at the huge bonfire as tunes wafted into the refreshing September night air. As the beat of the music resonated within her, she sensed that Blake needed a distraction to hit the dance floor since his grandiose talk of football and bull riding dominated the evening.

Out on the dance floor, the popular song, “Don’t You Want Me,” shifted the body frenzy to a disco, dirty-dancing genre. Christina tugged on her date’s arm and gave him a look that shared the song’s title as she led him into the barn. The smell of hay, horses, and leather contrasted sharply with the arena’s party atmosphere where the day before Blake rode his steed. 

Christina bounce danced into the crowd. Blake had no choice but to follow. Yet, this was her solo debut, a performance that would seal their status of boyfriend-girlfriend, at least for a season. The crowd parted and formed a circle around Christina as she lip-synched and danced to entice Blake to join her. The cheerers coaxed Blake as Christina did a spontaneous move that drew him close. The students went wild and many recalled this scene as they cast their vote for their favorite king and queen.

They had dated steadily since the “Don’t You Want Me” dance—Blake showed her in every way imaginable that he did. Christina had set her boundaries, but they were wearing thin as his elitism grew. Football stardom at Flintlock was unheard of. Bull riding gained more distinction. But with an undefeated season and a scholarship that sealed the deal to take him east to Penn State, Blake chose to put the shoulder-wrenching sport on hold, although he claimed that bull riding was what made his arm fire the “bull’s eye bullet.”

Any girl with class wanted him, even those from neighboring counties, and his prominence became more than a local hero. The pressure to give in was even more apparent as they became the honored homecoming couple, and some said that this match was one of those high school romances that endured time. Christina felt the confusion in her heart. She had her Prince, and with her humble heritage, the only child from a fatherless home, she felt like a Cinderella living a dream.

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Her supple body in his arms, the closeness of the steamy, monster-truck windows added to the surreal evening. She felt him press close as he whispered in her ear, “Trust me. I’ll never hurt you.”

He kissed her, and with a reflex of desire that filled a void in her heart, she breathed, “Take me.”

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Old Towne, Kansas – Wednesday Night, March 8, 1989

In the back of the Old Towne coffee shop, Christina, deep in thought, reflected her sadness for the “no longer a virgin” story she confessed to Eva. Her best friend reached out and gently placed her hand on the former homecoming queen’s arm.

 “This doesn’t have a good ending does it?” Eva said.

Christina shook her head. Her shoulders sagged, and she appeared diminutive in the tufted armchair.

“Okay, I’m with you all the way on this. Do you want to continue or take a walk and talk it out?”

Christina didn’t respond.

Eva took Christina’s hand and stood. “The full moon was spectacular last night. Let’s talk this out to the man in the moon,” Eva added to lighten the mood.

Christina looked up at her, eyes glistening with tears and then offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Eva. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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They laid underneath the spotlight of the moon, clearly able to see across the lake, the reflection as though it was lit from beneath, a source of light emanating from the earth.

“He was gentle and caring,” Christina said. “I opened up to him, thought I knew him. Looking back, I was young and foolish. After it was over, on the way home, I remembered my mom’s warning and realized that she was the voice of experience. She had been there, done that. I was the result of her affair. Although she loved me without reservation, she held onto the grief of not knowing what happened to my father and the loneliness of raising me as a single mom. I’d given up what I treasured to hold onto until I married. But, I made that choice, no one forced me. I wanted more but ended up with less.”

A long pause hung in the chilly night air as the girls stared at the man in the moon.

“The most humiliating feeling a girl can have,” Christina admitted, “is to be known as locker room trash.”

“Oh, Chrissy, I am so sorry for your loss and your disgrace.”

“I was a conquest. He took the queen. But . . . my true Father rescued me . . . ”

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Copyright 2017  © Jeff Cambridge

Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with characters that tell life-changing stories.

This is a pre-published scene.

To read the scenes sequentially, begin with

“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”

Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.