"Hey, Man. . ." A meaty hand clasped his shoulder.

"Hey, Billy Bob." He didn't have to look. He just knew.

And Billy Bob knew, too. "You gonna be okay?"

"Sure as shit hope so." He breathed out a long sigh. And after a while, he turned to face the supportive walking refrigerator. "Billy, I got a question for you. . ." he started. But he didn't really know what he wanted to ask.

"Is it True or False?" Billy cut in, smiling his big ole smile.

"It could be," he admitted flexing his hands on the handles of his crutches. And he thought for a bit. "Naw, I think its more of an essay."

Billy Bob's wide brow furrowed a bit. "Well, I'll try my best. Just grade me a on a curve."

Lance fished around for some words. . . trying to reach for the right ones. "What do you do. . .what happens. . .she wasn't even an option. . .and now she is. . .and I have no idea what the Hell is going on. . .or what I'm supposed to do," he finished off lamely.

His friend looked at him like he was speaking in tongues. "Is this about a girl?"

He leaned his head back against the bricks. "Not just a girl. Tish." A girl whose braids he'd tugged on so many times. . .whose giggles he'd heard floating through the house some nights. . . a girl who'd come to visit him in the hospital, all pale and worried, when no one else but Mox and his family'd shown. She'd always been around. With Jules. Or tossing a few balls in the yard. Coming to games, but never hitting on him like every other chick he knew. And all of a sudden, she was hitting the hardest of all. "Heck, she needs to join the offensive line," he murmured aloud.

"Well, she'd looked awful cute in a uniform. . . but I don't think she's built quite right for the job," Billy drawled humorously.

Lance closed his eyes. . . remembered her lips on his skin. . .how close her pretty face had been. . .and how her red crop top and tight jeans had clung so perfectly as she turned and ran away. "Oh. . . I think she's built just right," he whispered. . . not even recognizing his own voice.

Billy Bob blinked at him. "You got it. And you got it bad," he informed, instantly and surprisingly all-knowing.

He cracked open his eyes and laughed weakly. "Got it? You make it sound like a VD or something."

"Naw, that's Tweeder's department," Billy offered with a shrug. "Come to think of it, girls in general are his department. Why don'tcha talk to Tweed?"

"'Bout what?"

Lance turned his head and took in the cowboy loping over. Good grief. "What the Hell? Mox sending out a search party or what?"

"Naw, Man, this is a purely selfish recon mission! We missed your studly royalness diverting Miss Trig. from picking on the rest of us." Tweeder guffawed at his own joke. "Now, if you were gonna go and have yourself a class-skipping party, why didn't you invite me? I told Fielding I had to piss like a stampeding longhorn and came looking." He reached into his front pocket for his ever-present pack of Marbs and lit one. "So, what did you wanna talk to me about?"

"Girls," Billy Bob informed him with as much depth as he could muster.

Lance suddenly felt like he was in the middle of a half-assed attempt at a therapy session. He just smiled sickly.

"Sheee-it! I thought you knew!" Tweeder explained, pushing the brim of his hat back. "Bitches is good for one thing and one thing only. . . and if you got problems getting that, then get another bitch. Darcy ain't good for nothing."

"Its not Darcy," he muttered.

Tweeder exploded, nearly dropping his cig. "Shit, Lance, there's plenty of pussy out there for the taking! You just let 'em drop their pretty little panties and have yourself a good old time! They get what they want, you get what you want, and we all go home happy!" He took a slow drag off of the Marb, left it dangling James Dean style from his lip. "So, which little bitch is playing hard to get?"

Lance debated wrapping his hands around Charlie's throat. But realized he'd probably fall into the dirt if he tried. Instead, he just glared. "Its Tisha."

Tweeder's jaw dropped. . . and so did his cigarette. "Damn." For once in his life, Charlie Tweeder had nothing to say.

"Well, do you have other ideas?" he asked wryly.

"Its Tish." Tweeder shrugged. "I mean, I don't know what you do with Tish. She's just. . .Tish." He scratched his head a moment. "I kissed her once in 8th grade," he finally offered helpfully.

Lance heard his own intake of breath like it was a rifle shot. "You kissed her?" Tweed's filthy mouth had actually touched those lips? He hadn't known that. . .

The other boy was silent, sort of nervous. And he looked first at Billy Bob and then at him. "Sweetest kiss I ever had," he said quietly, almost. . . sadly.

Murder crossed his mind just then. "Wh-what happened?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"She was too good for me, Man." Charlie shrugged and leaned against the wall next to him. "All I wanted that night was to get it on. . .and I knew she deserved more than that. More than a shitfaced bastard who can't keep his pants zipped. So. . . I left with Darcy. And you know the rest."

That Lance did. Darcy and Tweed had gone for a round that night and a few more throughout freshman year, but as soon as Lance'd made quarterback, she'd dropped Charlie like a bad pass and smeared on the Reddi-Wip. And he'd fallen for it.

"And so does my truck bed!" Billy piped up.

He rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted right now was the full length motion picture of their romps. He pushed away from the wall, hefting his crutches securely. "All right. . . this is getting me nowhere fast," he growled. "I'll figure this out for myself."

He opened the door and let West Canaan High School swallow him back up.

She moved blindly through the now-empty hallways. A while ago she'd heard Tweeder's laugh and a door slamming. . . but all-in-all, there was silence. Biology. Half-over. And she wasn't about to go in. She'd kissed him. What the devil had possessed her? Hell, what had possessed her to even talk to him? To laugh with him? She should've turned tail and run the minute Jules and Mox had left. She turned a corner, dragging a hand through her hair, and skidded to a halt.

Mox was bent over the drinking fountain by the gym. And he straightened as she walked up. "Tish?" he wondered, furrowing his dark brown brows. "You okay?"

"Don't lecture me, Johnny," she sighed tiredly. "I'm not up for it."

He held up his hands. "Hey. . .hey, I wasn't saying anything," he stammered. "Don't jump on me, all right?"

"S-sorry." She choked down a sniffle.

He stared at her for a long moment. Almost right through her. "It didn't go well outside, huh?" he prompted finally.

"Y-you could say that." Her fingers whitened around the straps of her backpack. "In fact. . . I'm not sure it went at all."

He came over to her, slung his arm around her shoulders. "Take it from me, Tisha. Men are generally idiots. Especially football players. It takes us a while to get it." He gently prodded her to start moving. "But Lance'll come around."

"Are you sure?" she quizzed as he guided her back the way she'd come. . . back towards Mr. Leitner's Biology class.

"Yep." He fondly yanked on a few loose strands of her hair. "C'mon. . . let's go find Jules. She'll make everything better."

"Or worse." And they managed a laugh together. Yeah, thought Tisha. Right about now, Jules's common sense and Mox's sense of humor would do her some good. As for later. . .that was a whole different can of worms.

Lance tromped up the front walk, head full of troubles. He needed a beer, some Skynard, and some serious alone time. He needed to figure this out. And soon. Things had spread through the school like a brush fire and he wanted to put it out before it got out of hand. Maybe it had all ready. He opened the screen door and reached for the storm door knob. . . and almost fell flat on his face when it was yanked open right under his hand.

"What the fuck did you do?" Jules demanded, looking absolutely livid.

He fought to keep standing straight, leaning against the doorframe.

"Jesus H. Christ! What?" he cried. "What's going on?"

Jules crossed her arms and blocked the threshold with her stance. "You fumbled it, didn't you? Oh, my God, Lance!" She uncrossed her arms and planted her hands on her hips. "Can't you do anything right? The best hands of West Canaan High and you fumbled the easiest pass of your life!!!!"

"I just got home, Jules. Can't you wait till I'm at least in the door before you try and rip me a new asshole?" he snapped, pushing her aside with a crutch and shouldering his way into the living room. He parked himself in his dad's recliner, trying to ignore all the stupid trophies and framed pictures on the mantle.

"Alert the media!" Jules snorted, throwing up her hands. "Former Coyotes captain Lance Harbor has himself a mood swing!" She paced back and forth in front of him, wearing a new path in the faded orange carpet. "My best friend is upstairs, saying about as much as a hero in a bad Western, and since you're so damn cheerful, I'm figuring its your fault!"

"Well, I don't exactly enjoy getting tackled the second I walk in the door." He felt like he was on trial. "This is three shades more than crazy. Give me a break."

A horn honked from outside. She glanced out the front windows. "Look, Mox is here. . . I can't stay and hash this out as much I think you deserve. But I'll tell you what, you best march yourself up those stairs and apologize for whatever it was that you did." She narrowed her gaze warningly. "If you value your other leg." She picked up her purse from a side table and moved towards the door. As she reached for the knob, she tossed back, "Remember, I know where you sleep."

Lance was not reassured. He watched his little sister slam the door and run out to the lean green party machine that Mox was never without. And his eyes moved over to the stairs. Another ten minutes, he figured. But it would probably be worth it. Especially if she smiled.

He was touching her. . . smoothing his long fingers up and down the side of her face. . . and she wanted nothing more than to curl into his hand. She sighed. . . reaching out for him. . .seeing that face on her eyelids. But he seemed to be getting farther and farther away. "L-lance. . ." she murmured. "I'm here, Tish." Soft voice near her ear. Real. And real breath tickling her neck.

"Madre de Dios!" She bolted upright, eyes flying open, nearly knocking off the person who'd perched by her side.

"Naw," Lance drawled, gripping the headboard so he wouldn't take another dive. "Its just me."

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she demanded, taking up a pillow to cover her fully clothed body and looking wildly around Jules's room.

"Well, I live here," he said sheepishly, blushing for what seemed like the thousandth time today.

"Oh. Right." She put the pillow down beside her, forcing a laugh. She cleared her throat. "Yeah. Um. . .where's Jules?" she asked, chewing on her lip.

"I guess she figured you for a sleeping beauty 'cause she just hightailed outta here with Mox." Lance shrugged, grinning winsomely.

Figured. Abandoning her in her time of need. "So. . . if I'm Sleeping Beauty, does that make you the prince?" What was with her today? She needed a muzzle. Or tranquilizers.

He picked at Jules's leopard print coverlet. "Do you want me to be?" His eyes were so blue. . .so soft.

"I-I don't know." She looked down at his hand. . .the tanned backs of his fingers. The sprinkling of golden hair on his wrists and his forearm. He'd shucked off his sweater at some point. . .'cause all he wore now was a white t-shirt. Her stomach clenched. She knew. Oh, yeah, she knew. And she also knew it couldn't happen. Somebody was going to get hurt. Probably her. And she stood up clumsily, moving around the bed to the get to the door. "I should be going. . ."

His arm stopped her midsentence. . .caught her around the waist as she tried to brush past. He rose off the edge of the bed and towering inches above her. Pulling her back in. Against his chest. His eyes were fixed on her face. Solemn. Full of things she'd never seen. His free hand came up to stroke her cheek like before. "Don't you leave me," he warned. "Not this time."

"Lance!" she gasped. "This ain't. . ."

"Shush." His fingers covered her mouth. "Give a guy a chance to talk." He shook his head lightly, caressing her lips with his fingertips. "Leticia. . .Woman, where you been all my life?" he breathed. "Why'd you wait so long? I could've walked out of this town and missed the best thing in my life. Better than any state championship or athletic full ride." He laughed shakily. "I think I should thank God I wrecked my knee because it made you step up."

She ducked her head, lips parting for his touch. . .quivering at the tender assault. "I didn't think you'd want me," she admitted, staring at the vee of his t-shirt. The bare flesh there. "Not when you could have so much more."

He cupped her chin, raised her head back up millimeter by millimeter. "You're a damn fool. So am I," he said simply. "And Tweeder would probably say that makes us a perfectly damn fool pair." Her face was level with his again. . . so close. . .so close she could feel his breath on her face. And then he was leaning in. His mouth just barely moved over hers. . .like a sigh. The moist outline of his lips tracing hers. And still heat rose up inside her. . ."Sweetest kiss I ever had," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear.

"What?" she sighed hazily, melting into his arms.

"N-nothing. . .nothing, Tish. . .shhh," he assured, pressing his forehead to hers, trembling.

She wrapped her arms around him, knowing his legs were twice as unsteady as hers. "I think I love you, Lance Harbor," she said into his mouth.

"Damn." And he had nothing else to say. . . except to kiss her again. Lips. . .teeth. . .tongue. . .and a heart as big as Texas itself.

Tisha rocked in his embrace. . . and deep down inside she knew this would be more than one night. It just might be love.

Jules leaned back in Mox's arms and together they watched the shadowy figures up in her bedroom window. "See," he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. "I told you it would work out."

"You did not!" She slapped playfully at his roaming hands.

"I did so." His lips trailed down her neck and she could feel him chuckling against her skin. "And aren't they just adorable. . .up there kissing like the world's about to end?"

"Yeah, real cute," she agreed, grinning. And then a thought crossed her mind. "As long as they don't have sex on my bed," she said with a shudder. . . not that she thought Lance's knee would be up for the sport.

Johnny licked the hollow where her pulse was beating and she felt her knees weaken. Immediately, he was sweeping her up in his arms and walking across the yard. He looked down at her, eyes bright with mischief. "Then we'll just make it even. . .and have our own wicked way on Lance's bed."

She threw back her head and laughed as they moved into the house. Both of West Canaan High School's star quarterbacks would be doing victory dances tonight.

Date of completion circa 1999-2000.