Free Bama Boy by Sheri Cobb South Page A

left-hand turn onto the highway in front of us.
    “Jimbo!” I grabbed his sleeve. “Did you see that bus?”
    “Yeah. What about it?”
    “It was full of football players,” I said, my excitement growing. “And the only area high school in that direction is—”
    “—Lee High School!” we said together.
    “Hang on, Tracy,” said Jimbo, flooring the accelerator. “We’re gonna catch us a bus!”
    Jimbo’s truck wasn’t exactly built for speed, but then, neither was Lee’s bus. We pulled up beside it at the next traffic light, and Jimbo rolled down the window and stuck his head out.
    “Hey, Lee!” he yelled. “Who won?”
    As if on cue, every window on the bus came down, and football players’ heads, arms, and even someone’s foot hung out the window. With everyone yelling at once, it was hard to understand what anyone was saying, but I couldn’t imagine any team being so excited over a loss.
    “We did!” one voice finally rose over the rest. “We whipped Mitchell seventeen to fourteen!”
    Jimbo ducked back inside the truck and caught me up in a rib-cracking hug. “Did you hear that, Tracy? We’ve still got a chance!”
    We were absolutely giddy with joy for the rest of the drive. We laughed and sang along with the radio at the top of our lungs, and when we reached my front door, Jimbo put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close.
    “Tracy, I thought you were terrific tonight.”
    His voice held no trace of our earlier silliness, and when I looked up into his eyes, I felt as if I were drowning in their blue depths.
    “I thought you were pretty terrific yourself.”
    Jimbo grinned. “Yeah, so did Hillcrest High School! I mean it, Tracy. This night started out as a total disaster, and you managed to turn it into somethin’ special.”
    “I think the Lee High School football team had a lot more to do with it than I did.”
    “You know, for a smart girl, you’re not very bright,” Jimbo said tenderly, and as he took me in his arms, we both knew how this evening was going to end.
    One last remaining shred of common sense warned me that I shouldn’t let Jimbo kiss me when I was practically going steady with Anthony, but I didn’t want to listen. In less than four days, Anthony would be back in town and Jimbo would be lost to me forever. Why shouldn’t I have my one night of happiness? I lifted my face to his, and he bent his head and—
    At that moment the porch light came on. We jumped apart as the front door opened, revealing Dad in his bathrobe and slippers.
    “Tracy Annette Brock, do you know what time it is?” he demanded sleepily.
    I turned back to Jimbo. “I’ve got to go.”
    “Goodnight, Tracy Annette Brock,” he said gently.
    “Goodnight, James Robert Maxwell.”
    “Junior.”
    “Junior,” I echoed, then turned and followed Dad into the house, shutting the door softly behind me.
     
Chapter Fourteen
     
    My sanity returned with the harsh light of day, and I knew Dad had probably done me a favor by interrupting before I could do anything I might regret later. As for my one magical night with Jimbo, it was best not to think about that. Maybe in time I would forget.
    But when Jimbo came strolling into physics class Monday morning wearing dark glasses and a trench coat with the collar turned up to hide his face, I knew I could never forget him. I might recover eventually, if I was lucky, but I would never forget.
    “Jimbo, what are you doing in that get-up?” I asked, as he took his usual place at the desk behind me.
    “Shhh!” Jimbo leaned forward conspiratorially and pushed his sunglasses down to the end of his nose, looking at me over the rim. “I’m incognito. Do you think anybody’ll recognize me?”
    “The minute you open your mouth,” I told him. “Have they been too hard on you?”
    “Nah, most people have been pretty nice. I think the party Friday night helped a lot, too.”
    “I’m glad. I’d hate to think you endured that torture for