Free That Boy by Jillian Dodd Page A

“Come on.”
    “I can't, Danny. I really need to work on my tan today. I'm all set up here.”
    “When we're done, I'll take you and Phillip to the Shack for ice cream,” he bribes in a singsong voice. “My treat.
Come on
, you can get a tan playing football. You play in a swimsuit all the time .” He pauses. “Of course with all that oil on, you'll be harder to tackle. Maybe you'll give Phillip a run for his money . For once .”
    For once?
    A challenge, huh?
    Shit.
    “I want a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate shake, AND maybe even a hot fudge sundae. Deal?”
    “Pig,” he replies, but shakes his head in agreement.
    “Fine, I'll be there in a minute.”
    I lay my head back down and try to revive my daydream. Unfortunately it's long gone.
    I look at my back. No change yet, but I guess Danny's right. I can play with my suit on.
    Play and fill in the tan lines at the same time.
    I am so efficient!
    So I get up from my comfy spot, walk over to the picnic table, hook my finger thru a belt loop on my favorite cutoffs, pull them off the table, and drag them behind me. I walk over to my fence and fling open the gate. Danny and Phillip are tossing the ball casually to each other in the empty lot next door. The lot has a luscious carpet of grass that Phillip and Danny work hard to keep immaculate, just for this purpose.
    I start to walk toward them and then thinking, stop and yell, “Shoes or no shoes?” You have to decide this in the beginning because if you don't have shoes and the other guy does, it can be a very painful day for your toes. If the boys are feeling very serious about their practice, it's shoes.
    Most often though, it's no shoes.
    I keep standing there, holding my shorts, waiting for an answer.
    “Hello?” I say, waving my shorts in their direction.
    But the boys are both just standing there staring at me, their mouths agape.
    Shit, is one of my boobs hanging out or something? I take a quick look down at myself. No, everything appears to be in order.
    What? It's like they can see me, but they can't hear me.
    “Shoes?” I yell again, maybe they
didn't
hear me.
    “Uh,” says Phillip, looking down at his own feet, like he can't remember if he has them on. “Um, no shoes.”
    Phillip gives Danny a sideways glance, and Danny smiles back at him.
    What's up with those two? I probably missed some stupid boy joke.
    Whatever.
    I jog over to them in my bare feet, pull on my shorts and zip them up. “Okay, I'm ready.”
    “Uh, new swimsuit, Jay?” Danny asks, with his eyebrows raised at me, half a smirk on his face.
    “Yeah. Do you like it? I got it for the Summer Bash next week.”
    Danny doesn't answer my question, but asks one of his own. “Your dad seen it yet?”
    “Well, no, but he's not going to the party. So do you guys like it? Does it look okay?” I stare at Phillip. “ Phillip ?”
    Phillip is still looking at me sort of shocked. What's the deal? Does it look bad?
    Phillip starts to open his mouth to say something. At first nothing comes out, but then he says, “I think I like that pink one you have better.”
    Jerk!
    The pink one he is referring to is practically a granny style one-piece. I give that boy a mad face.
    Danny looks at Phillip and shakes his head at him. Then he winks at me and says, “Go long, right, Jay.”
    I do, and we play catch for about 30 minutes, running various plays and routes. It's usually fun and a good workout for me.
    But the whole time we're playing, Phillip's bikini comment is festering in my brain. I brilliantly intercept a pass, and I nearly scream out loud,
HAHAHAHA, Phillip, you jerk!
But I withheld my comments and gave him a smirky grin instead.
    Which apparently didn't bother him in the least because he shrugs his shoulders at me, his body saying,
No big deal.
    And that really pisses me off.
    So on the next play, as we're running side by side down the field, I carefully stick my foot out with the intention of
accidentally
tripping him.
    Only it