“You’re going to be famous!”

Pete's Vagina
81. Spiral
by Erin Halfelven

It wasn’t fun.

Mom and Dad were charged up that I was going to be on TV. My misgivings about the prospect didn’t seem to penetrate their giddy excitement. I’d never seen either of them so happy about something I was doing.

Lee came in with me, and I was glad for his moral support. He hardly said a word to my parents, though he did explain Mrs. Frick’s involvement. “My mom realized —maybe sooner than anyone else— that Pete playing football could be big news,” he said. “And she decided to get out ahead of all that, to try to benefit Pete and the town as much as she could.”

“Yeah, huh?” agreed Dad with a smile aimed at me. I smiled back and even managed not to grit my teeth.

We had a cat once before we got Wug. Snatch had to be kept inside because of coyotes that Wug would later have no problem with. The little orange tabby would sit in the kitchen window and watch the birds outside, mad about life all the time, snarling and chiffering: that noise cats make when they want to kill something.

One day, Snatch got out and disappeared into the woods. We never saw him again.

I must have been six when that happened, and I was as heartbroken as a little girl who loses a pet can be—except I wasn’t a little girl then. I was a little boy, the way I remembered it.

But I knew how Snatch the cat felt.

It was still game day, but because of the forfeit by the Werewolves, everything after I walked off the field early felt like I’d been benched. I never liked watching a game from the bench; it made me twitchy, and I flinched when Dad smiled at me.

Mom told me about how Mrs. Frick had arranged a Sunday morning interview on KNXV-15, and we’d need to be there at 7 a.m. to be sure we were ready for going under the television lights in front of the cameras. “You’re going to be famous!”

I resisted an eye roll. Mom wouldn’t appreciate attitude when she was on a high.

“And then,” she went on, “KPNX-12 wants you for a Sunday afternoon interview!”

I stared.

Mom babbled on about how Channel Fifteen wanted me in my football gear, but Twelve was interested in the modeling offer they’d heard about, and that I’d been nominated for Homecoming Princess, and did I have a gown picked out….

I almost exploded. First, how had they found out those things! And second, no way was I going to be on television wearing a dress!

I think I must have said that last part aloud, and maybe a few bad words besides. When Mom and I stopped shouting because Dad and Lee had gotten between us, we hugged because we still loved each other. Then I claimed exhaustion and asked if I could go to bed.

I still had hold of Lee’s hand, which got a glare from Dad, but I dropped it, and Lee stepped up and said, “I need to go too, sir. I’ve got film to develop and a reel to edit for tomorrow’s 2 p.m. debrief.”

“What’s that going to show?” I wanted to know. “The Wolfpak forfeited; there was no official game.”

“I got some good shots before it went in the bottle,” he said. “A good sequence of you dancing with the Werewolves before catching a pass.” He grinned. “You don’t do that very often, and it should be really good!”

I gave him an eyeroll, too.

“But the best shot might be of you snaking out from under that second pile-up! You looked mad enough to eat nails and spit rivets.” He laughed. Normally, I love to hear his laugh; he’s not a real jovial guy. But this time—augh! I suppressed a giggle, wondering where that had come from.

“Out,” I said, pushing him toward the front door. We made eye contact — him on the porch and me inside — before I closed the door between us. Then I made my own escape to my bedroom before Mom could suck me into some sort of plan for going shopping tomorrow.

Next: Pete's sister Jordan has something to tell Pete