The Best Man. Kristan Higgins
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going to college, Levi hesitated, not wanting to clue Jeremy in just yet that college was so far out of reach he wasn’t even thinking of applying. “Not sure yet,” he said.
“Me, neither,” Jeremy answered easily, though Levi had heard he was being heavily recruited. “So. Tell me who the cute girls are at school. I’m hoping to have a girlfriend this year.”
It was so awkward that Levi almost winced. Still, there was something about Jeremy, an innocence or something. “Did you have a girl back home?” he asked, testing him.
“Not really. No one special. You know.” Jeremy looked away. “With football and classes and all, it’s kind of hard to find the time.”
Levi’s experience had been completely different; girls propositioned him constantly. Unless you were a prepubescent freshman, some chick would throw herself at you, so long as you wore the uniform on Friday nights, no matter how bad the team had sucked.
When it got late, Levi said he’d walk back, even though it was seven miles down the Hill and around the Village to West’s. But Jeremy insisted on driving him; he had a convertible, for God’s sake, and the thing was, he didn’t act like an asshole. “Great night for a drive, huh?” Jeremy said amiably, hopping into the car without opening the door. Levi followed suit, which was what people did if they had convertibles, he guessed.
Jeremy talked all the way to Route 15, telling Levi about life in Napa (pretty awesome), the reasons his parents wanted to relocate (his dad had gotten an ulcer, and they figured New York was more mellow when it came to wine-making), asking him questions about Coach and some of the teams they’d be facing.
“Right here. West’s Trailer Park.” He waited for Jeremy to realize he’d picked the wrong teammate to befriend.
“Gotcha. Which one?” Jeremy asked, turning into the drive.
“Last one on the left. Thanks for the ride, man. And thank your mom for dinner.”
“No, it was great to have you. See you at practice.”
Then he waved and executed a neat little turn and drove off, the sound of the motor humming quietly in the distance.
And so a friendship began. Over the next month, Jeremy frequently asked Levi over for dinner until one day, Levi’s mother snapped, “Why don’t you ask him here? Are you ashamed of us or something?” When Jeremy showed up, he had flowers for Levi’s mother, told Sarah she was gorgeous and made no comment on the water-stained ceiling, the jug wine in the fridge or the fact that the four of them could barely fit in the kitchen.
“Is that tuna casserole?” he said as Levi’s mother set the Pyrex dish on the table. “Oh, man, that’s my favorite! I haven’t had this in ages. My mom is so stuck-up about food. This, though. This is living.” He grinned like they’d just pulled off a bank heist and ate three helpings while Mom cooed and sighed.
“That is a very nice boy,” she announced after Jeremy had left, her tone slightly reverent.
“Yeah,” Levi agreed.
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“I think you’re a little old for him.” He grinned at her, and she did blush.
“I’ll be his girlfriend,” Sarah said fervently.
“And you’re a little young,” Levi said, pulling her hair. “Go brush your teeth, kid.” His sister obeyed.
His mom ran a hand through her dyed blond hair, revealing black roots. “Well. I just meant, a handsome boy like that, all that charm and nice manners. Maybe some will rub off on you.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
“I bet he’s not the type to go running around with slutty girls.”
“No, he’s definitely not.” Levi raised an eyebrow at his mom. She missed his point.
“What you see in that Jessica Dunn is beyond me.”
“She puts out.” His mom slapped his head, and Levi ducked, grinning. “She’s also got a great personality,” he added. “Or something like that.”
“You’re horrible. Help me clean up. I bet your friend helps his mother.”
One day, after school had started up again, Levi and Jeremy were heading into the cafeteria. The door was blocked by someone just standing there—Princess Super-Cute, her red hair in a ponytail, always asking people to sign up to collect bottles or save the seals, her life’s mission to make sure everyone on earth liked her. Now she was just standing there, oblivious to the throng of people who couldn’t get in to eat lunch.
“Move it, Holland,” Levi said.
She didn’t answer. Ah, shit, she was doing that thing, plucking at her little ruffly shirt and looking confused. Levi took a step forward, but before he could catch her, she crumpled to the floor and started jerking.
“Oh, my God!” Jeremy blurted, flinging off his backpack to kneel at her side. “Hey, hey, are you all right?”
“She’s got epilepsy,” Levi said. He pulled off his sweatshirt to stick under her head. A small crowd was forming, Faith’s occasional seizure always a hit. Twelve years of the same kids...you’d think people would get used to it. Each year, the nurse would come in to their classroom and give the epilepsy talk, like they all needed a reminder and Faith needed the embarrassment. It was the one time of year that he felt sorry for her. Well, then, and when her mom died.
Jeremy already had his arms around her. “You’re not supposed to move her,” Levi said, but Jeremy picked her up and was shouldering his way down the hall.
And that was that. The school talked about it for days; how Jeremy was like some kind of knight or something, how could Faith not fall for him, it was so romantic, didn’t you kind of wish you had epilepsy or fainted once in a while? Levi’s eyes actually got tired from rolling.
“I’m in love, my friend,” Jeremy said a couple weeks later. “She’s amazing.”
“Yeah.”
“Really. She’s beautiful. Like an angel.”
Levi gave him a look. “Sure.”
Despite not having a father, Levi was what his boss called a man’s man. Football since fourth grade, an aptitude with tools, his first girlfriend at twelve, first sex at fifteen. He’d stayed back the year his father left and was therefore older than his classmates, had started putting on muscle in seventh grade, could drive sophomore year of high school, and those things ensured him some respect. He’d always run with a pack of guys.
And guys did not talk about their girlfriends being beautiful like an angel. They talked about their tits, their asses, if and when they might put out. If a guy was really in love, he’d just shut up and occasionally punch the person (often Levi) who speculated on the tits and ass of the girl in question.
Levi was no expert, but he guessed that Jeremy might not know he was gay. Or if he did, he might not want to admit it. Jeremy was awfully careful in the locker room, which was odd for a kid who’d played football for a decade. Most of the guys didn’t think about it, though some liked to strut around naked, in love with their own junk. There were, of course, the gay jokes, and Jeremy laughed cautiously, sometimes glancing at Levi to see if it was actually funny (it never was). Nope, Jeremy just kept his eyes down until he was dressed. When Big Frankie Pepitone got a tattoo on his shoulder, all the other guys admired it and made sure to give Frankie a slap on the newly inked and still angry-looking skin (because football players liked to hurt each other, after all), but Jeremy could barely drag his eyes up to the tatt. “Cool” was all he said, and Levi got the impression that maybe Jeremy was afraid of what his face would show if he did look at Big Frankie.
Whatever. Jeremy was a good guy, and Levi didn’t really care if Faith Holland was his beard or the love of his life. It was his senior year; he figured he’d be enlisting, so he was going to have all the fun he could.