home » Thriller » John Grisham » The Bleachers » The Bleachers Page 24

The Bleachers Page 24
Author: John Grisham

"You're forgiven. Forget about it."

"I can't forget about it. And don't be so nice."

"We were just kids, Neely. Sixteen years old. It was another lifetime."

"We were in love, Cameron. I adored you from the time we were ten years old and holding hands behind the gym so the other boys wouldn't see me."

"I really don't want to hear this."

"Okay, but can I get it off my chest? And would you try to make it painful?"

"I got over it, Neely, finally."

"Maybe I haven't."

"Oh get a life! And grow up while you're at it. You're not the football hero anymore."

"There you go. That's what I want to hear. Unload with both barrels."

"Did you come here to fight, Neely?"

"No. I came to say I'm sorry."

"You've said it. Now why don't you leave?"

He bit his tongue and let a few seconds pass. Then, "Why do you want me to leave?"

"Because I don't like you, Neely."

"You shouldn't."

"It took ten years to get you out of my system. When I fell in love with Jack, I was finally able to forget you. I hoped I would never see you again."

"Do you ever think about me?"

"No."

"Never?"

Chapter Nineteen

"Maybe once a year, in a weak moment. Jack was watching a football game once. The quarterback got hurt and left the game on a stretcher. I thought of you then."

"A pleasant thought."

"Not unpleasant."

"I think of you all the time."

A slight crack in the ice as she exhaled and seemed frustrated. She leaned forward and rested both elbows on her knees. The door opened behind them and Mrs. Lane shuffled out with a tray. "Thought you might like some hot chocolate," she said, placing it on the edge of the porch, in the large space between them.

"Thank you," Neely said.

"It'll keep the chill off," Mrs. Lane said. "Cameron, you should put on some socks."

"Yes, Mother."

The door closed and they ignored the hot chocolate. Neely wanted a long conversation, one that covered several issues and many years. She once had feelings, strong ones, and he wanted to confirm them. He wanted tears and anger, maybe a good fight or two. And he wanted to be truly forgiven.

"You were actually watching a football game?" he said.

"No. Jack was watching the game. I happened to be passing through."

"He's a football fan?"

"Not really. If he'd been a fan, I wouldn't have married him."

"So you still hate football?"

"You could say that. I went to Hollins, an all-girls school, so I could avoid football. My oldest daughter has started school at a small private academy-no football."

"Then why are you here now?"

"Miss Lila. She taught me piano for twelve years."

"Right."

"I'm certainly not here to honor Eddie Rake." Cameron picked up a cup and cradled it with both hands. Neely did the same.

When it became apparent he was in no hurry to leave, she opened up a little. "I had a sorority sister at Hollins whose brother played for State. She was watching a game, our sophomore year, and I walked into her room. There was the great Neely Crenshaw, moving Tech up and down the field, fans going wild, the announcers giddy over this great young quarterback. I thought, 'Well, good. That's what he always wanted. A big-time hero. Adoring masses. Coeds chasing him all over campus, throwing themselves at him. Constant adulation. Everybody's all-American. That's Neely.'"

"Two weeks later I was in the hospital."

She shrugged. "I didn't know. I wasn't following your great career."

"Who told you?"

"I was home for Christmas break, and I had lunch with Nat. He told me you'd never play again. It's such a stupid sport. Boys and young men mangle their bodies for life."

"It is indeed."

"So tell me, Neely, what happened to the girls? When you're no longer the hero, what happens to all those little sluts and groupies?"

"They disappear."

"That must've killed you."

"Now we're making progress," Neely thought. "Let's get the venom out."

"There was nothing pleasant about the injury."

"So you became just a regular person, like the rest of us?"

"I guess, but with a lot of baggage. Being a forgotten hero is not easy."

"And you're still adjusting?"

"When you're famous at eighteen, you spend the rest of your life fading away. You dream of the glory days, but you know they're gone forever. I wish I'd never seen a football."

"I don't believe that."

"I'd be a regular guy with two good legs. And I wouldn't have made the mistake with you."

"Oh please, Neely, don't get sappy. We were only sixteen."

Another long pause as they sipped from their cups and got ready for the next serve and volley. Neely had been planning the encounter for weeks. Cameron had had no idea she would ever see him again. Still, he knew the element of surprise would not help him. She would have all the answers.

"You're not saying much," he said.

"I have nothing to say."

"Come on, Cameron, this is your chance to unload with both barrels."

"Why should I? You're here trying to force me to dig up bad memories that took years to forget. What makes you think I want to go back to high school and get burned again? I've dealt with it, Neely. Obviously you haven't."

"You want to know about Screamer?"

"Hell no."

"She's a cocktail waitress at a low rent casino in Vegas, fat and ugly, thirty-two and looking fifty, all according to Paul Curry, who saw her there. Apparently she went to Hollywood, tried to sleep her way to the top, got squeezed out by a million other small-town homecoming queens trying to sleep their way to the top."

"No surprise."

"Paul said she looked tired."

"I'm certain of that. She looked tired in high school."

"Does that make you feel better?"

"I felt great before you got here, Neely. I have no interest in you or your homecoming queen."

"Come on, Cameron. Be honest. It must be somewhat satisfying to know that Screamer is closing in on skid row while your life is looking pretty good. You've won."

"I wasn't competing. I don't care."

"You cared back then."

She placed the cup back on the tray and leaned forward again. "What do you want me to say, Neely? Shall I state the obvious? I loved you madly when I was a young teenage girl. That's no surprise because I told you every day. And you told me the same. We spent every moment together, had every class together, went everywhere together. But you became this great football hero, and everybody wanted a piece of you. Especially Screamer. She had the long legs and cute butt and short skirts and big chest and blond hair, and somehow she got you in the backseat of her car. You decided you wanted more of the same. I was a nice girl, and I paid a price for it. You broke my heart, humiliated me in front of everybody I knew, and wrecked my life for a long time. I couldn't wait to leave this town."

"I still can't believe I did that."

"Well, you did." Her voice was edgy and there was a slight crack. She clenched her teeth, determined to show no emotion. He would not make her cry again.

"I'm so sorry." Neely slowly got to his feet, careful not to put too much weight on his left knee. He touched her on the arm and said, "Thanks for giving me the chance to say so."

Search
John Grisham's Novels
» The Broker
» The Chamber
» The Partner
» The Client
» The Associate
» The King of Torts
» The Brethren
» The Last Juror
» Playing for Pizza
» The Litigators
» The Testament
» The Bleachers
» The Appeal
» The Firm
» The Innocent Man
» A Painted House
» A Time to Kill (Jake Brigance #1)
» Calico Joe
» Ford County
» The Street Lawyer