Chapter Eighteen

D-Day. Donkey day. I have been increasingly distant in class leading up to this moment, increasingly terrified everywhere else because of it. When Marcy and I enter the stadium, I’m literally shaking. Any faster my heart would beat right out of my chest. Just coming here has taken guts, what I want to do afterwards will take the steely nerve of a cold blooded and ruthless go-getter. Basically someone completely different to me.

Marcy offers me a selection of legal and not quite so legal remedies for my condition, all of which I politely decline, and while we fight our way through the crowd to sit amongst what can only be described as loosely organized mayhem, I feel like this could be the turning point of my largely uneventful life so far.

My dad is here with Janice somewhere, which is kind of weird. I try and look for him in the crowd unsure of what I’ll do if I spot him. They’ve both moved out, which is to say that Janice has finally sold her house and Dad hasn’t returned home. They’re living together in a small one-bedroom apartment in the city while they work out what to do. Needless to say, Mom’s condition still hasn’t improved and for the last few weeks she’s been swapping out the cigarettes for something a little stronger.

This is my first live football game and I had to borrow the money from Dad to be able to afford the tickets. I could have just surprised the boys after the game, but I kind of wanted to see them in action - who wouldn’t right? - plus Marcy had already decided we were coming and at least it gives us something to talk about when I throw myself at them afterwards, nerves jangling like hanging pots in a hurricane.

I feel a little ridiculous. I’m not entirely new to football - Dad made me watch enough games growing up and even tried to enrol me in a team, such was his overwhelming desire to have a boy - but I’m not really here to offer my support to the team either, just a small percentage of it.

The players come out to the field, their names called out over the PA system and when the announcer gets to Jack and Zach Montgomery, I feel shivers run down my spine.

I can’t see much from up here, but when the twins come out on the field I feel my heart leap about sixty metres into the air. Jack takes off his helmet and salutes the crowd at one end, while Zach does the same at the other. I haven’t seen these boys for months, and here they are just as sexy as ever. Not only that, they are clearly the focus of this team. The way they were introduced, the reception from the crowd and the treatment from the other players, makes it seem like they are head and shoulders above everyone else in terms of potential and importance. I can’t think of many people who could come back to their home town and not get booed by the crowd for moving away. Like I said before, hating these twins is absolutely impossible. By the noise the crowd are making - and these are Badgers fans that surround us - I’m not the only one in love.

Up here, wedged into the crowd, I feel like I’m a million times less important. I feel so unimportant I worry that when I go and find them after the game, they won’t even know who I am. Maybe they won’t even want to see me.

After all of the players have been introduced from both teams, they bring on a special guest star. He’s a famous quarterback called Landon Maddox, who gets a standing ovation when he jogs out onto the field and the name rings a bell as someone the twins always used to go on about as someone they wanted to emulate. He tells us he’s been working with LSU recently as part of a nationwide program to encourage sporting talent, and today he’s decided to come and watch the game and keep an eye on the progress of his most talented players.

“That’s the original Donkey”, Marcy whispers as she nudges me in the ribs. “He’s got a cock this big.”

She holds out her hands to measure it in the air like someone might if describing the biggest fish they ever caught.

“How on earth do you know that?” I say.

Marcy smiles. “Common knowledge, modelling adverts, huge rumors.”

I heard the word Donkey and my attention is taken back to the field.

“Well, Jack and Zach, or collectively, Donkey, which, by the way, I think we should change to Donkey Doubled or something like that to make a clear distinction, are some of the hottest talent anywhere in the country right now. We’ve got Jack starting as our quarterback, and Zach as wide receiver, but these two are so talented they could play anywhere in the field. Watch these guys, because they are going to be big.”

“Well, it sounds like you might have to let that nickname go”, the announcer says, “especially if there are two of them.”

Landon smiles. “We’ll see.”

“Ready?” Marcy asks, taking hold of my arm.

“No”, I say, shaking my head.

Marcy begins, “Jack smiles down at me each time he lifts his mouth away from my nipples to let me breathe. I’m breathing heavily, squirming like a fish out of water and groaning loud enough I could pass for a professional porn actress.”

I look at her in horror, my lower jaw scraping the ground. “How the fuck do you remember that?”

She shrugs. “Good memory I guess.”

“I’ll say.”

“Just remember what it is we are doing here”, Marcy says tapping me on the head with her index finger. “Keep your head in the game.”

“I’m trying”, I whimper. “It’s not easy.”

“I’ve got rum if you want it”, she says, opening her bag slightly to show me. “Just give me the word.”

“Do you just carry that around with you wherever you go?” I ask.

“You never know when you are going to need it”, she says. “Plus, it makes the day go way quicker. Work can be a drag sometimes.”

“You are wasted in waitressing”, I say.

“I know, right? I was thinking about moving into porn. Maybe you could write the storylines for me and we could get a couple of twins to act it out.”

“Hey, hands off my Donkey”, I say, as though they were already mine.

“If you’re not going to claim them-”, Marcy jokes.

“I’m going to try my best, believe me”, I say.

The plan is, wait until the game is over, make our way to the locker room, surprise Donkey with our appearance, and come clean about my kinky desire. Plan B, if plan A doesn’t work, is do all of that at their hotel room.

I haven’t called them, left a message on facebook, sent a telegram, uploaded an image on instagram of me holding a banner that says Donkey, I love you, and I haven’t told them I’m going to be here. As far as I know, according to information passed on to me from Dad via Janice, Donkey aren’t planning to stay much longer than they need to, which means my time with them might be limited. If that limitation is reduced solely to the view I get from here, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself for missing it.

Marcy and I spent a whole year perving over Donkey from far enough away we had to use binoculars, so we are both dedicated professionals and compared to that, this is luxury.

Their plan to be in and out of the city they called home for the best part of their adolescence is a little concerning but if they have bad memories here, I completely understand it. I’m not sure how much they blame their mother for her part in their parents divorce, but I’m sure that whatever reason they have for not wanting to stick around is likely to be perfectly reasonable.

They are here with their dad too, which might make seeing their mom all that more difficult. I don’t blame Dad for what happened between Mom and him, not anywhere near as much as Mom does, but I’ve probably seen him just as few times as Donkey have their mother over the last few months, and we all still live in the same city. I can’t imagine they’ll come here and ignore her completely, but maybe they just want to separate their old life from their new one, and anything that drags them back into what they used to have here is something they are actively trying to avoid.

Which would explain perfectly why they haven’t contacted me. Not because they don’t want to, but because they see me as part of an old life they are trying to move away from, at least until they’ve processed all of the individual different emotions.

I suppose, if that is the case, maybe I should abandon my plan altogether and give them their space. The last thing I want to do is suffocate them, and if I didn’t feel like it was some kind of duty on my part to come clean about how I feel, especially before Dad and Janice make it morally unacceptable, I wouldn’t have to worry. I could watch this game without sitting on my hands, enjoy the incredible spectacle of Donkey without breaking down that invisible barrier, and then each one of us could go home none the wiser and live a life of misery rocking away on the porch, drinking rum and smoking cigarettes.

Marcy leaps from her seat and almost knocks me out of mine. Typically, I haven’t been concentrating and I’ve missed something important. Up on the big screen I watch the replay. Jack in close up twisting away from a tackle, running into open space and launching the ball to his brother. While they continue to celebrate the touchdown on the field below, I watch Zach leap a full metre into the air and pluck the ball out of nothing, like he’s just leaped to the top branch of an apple tree to pull down the juiciest fruit that resides there. I’m not a football aficionado, but even I can recognize the beautiful perfection of the maneuver.

Jack and Zach salute the crowd, while the teams line up to begin again, and all around the stadium I hear the echo of their nickname being sung.

“Donkey, Donkey, Donkey.”

“Sit down”, Marcy says pulling me back into my seat. “You don’t want them to put you up on the big screen and ruin the surprise, do you?”

The atmosphere is infectious, and even though my brain refuses to turn itself off, I can’t help but enjoy myself. Throughout the first half, under Donkey’s measured guidance, The Tigers are absolutely unstoppable.

They go into the break 14-3 up, both touchdowns a combined piece of brilliance from the Godlike duo.

Whether they win or not is of no interest to me, and I know that it won’t bother Jack and Zach either, as long as they have performed to the best of their ability, what is of interest to me is watching them perform, and as the game continues, Marcy, I and any of the rest of the crowd who are watching, get treated to an incredible display of the prowess of the human body.

I can’t see their faces under the helmet’s but I know each curve, line and distinguishing mark so well I can imagine it. The way they twist and turn, the lycra sticking to every contour of their body, the way their muscles flex from the broadness of their shoulders, down the curve of their spine to their perfect hips, the moment Zach lifts his top to reveal briefly an even more toned six pack than he left with and when Jack bends over to receive the ball at every single down so his ass looks like a work of art directed specifically towards me, I feel like I’m going to explode with excitement.

I can hardly contain myself, each second that passes becoming more animated and more involved, that when they score the third touchdown, a work of individual brilliance by Jack that sees him cover a third of the field and dance majestically between advancing tackles, I’m the first out of my seat and the loudest to cheer.

When I return to it, Marcy reminds me I’m cheering the wrong team, and as I look around us I get looks of pity from the diehard Badgers supporters, as though typically, as a female, I’m confused and don’t understand how the whole thing works.

Before I realize it, and much sooner than I want, the third quarter melts into the fourth and the game begins to wind down.

Donkey have clearly been the stars of the show, and despite The Tigers losing the fourth quarter to a late resurgence by The Badgers, the boys have done enough to steer their team to victory and convince anyone who still wasn’t sure that these two have the potential, if they haven’t already done enough to achieve it, to be absolutely massive.

We stand as a group and clap the players off the field, while Jack and Zach take off their helmets and wave to the raucous support.

There is just enough time to listen to a summing up of the performance by Landon Maddox, before post match entertainment begins and those members of the crowd uninterested in listening to a marching band or watch a bunch of scantily clad cheerleaders run through their tired routine begin to quickly disperse.

Marcy turns to me. “Ready?” she asks.

“No”, I say again.

“Too bad”, she says. “We’re not leaving until you’ve done what you came here to do.”

“I’m scared”, I confess.

“That’s why I’m here”, she says.

“Locker room?” I ask nervously, my voice almost breaking.

Marcy nods.

“It’s a terrible idea”, I say, suddenly realizing it. “Everyone is going to be in there celebrating, they’re not going to be interested in seeing me in the slightest. I’ll look like a dick. It’s a terrible idea Marcy, what was I thinking?”

Marcy sighs. “Here’s what we are going to do. We’re going to go down to the locker room, I’m going to go in and I’m going to tell Donkey that someone is here to see them while you wait patiently outside, figuring out how you’re going to seduce them with your writer’s brain.”

She taps on it again and I shake my head.

“Jenny.”

“I timeout”, I say, making a T shape with my hands.

“You don’t even know what that is.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow”, I say.

“Just come with me, you can freak out all you like when it’s done”, Marcy insists.

“Let me just sit here a little bit longer, at least until everyone else has gone.”

“Everyone?” Marcy asks. “The whole stadium?”

I nod, so close to crying if I let myself go I know I might never stop. I think Marcy can see it too, because instead of encourage me or tell me I have to, she just leans back into her seat and takes my hand in hers.

“We’ll sit here for as long as you need to”, she says placidly. “Just tell me when you are ready to go.”

“Ok”, I say, already feeling a million times better. “I only need a little while, just to get my thoughts in order.”

“Rum might help”, Marcy suggests. “It usually helps me.”

I shake my head. “I think i’m having a panic attack”, I say. “A sudden, violent, uncontrollable panic attack. I’m sorry, Marcy, I don’t think I can do this, I thought I could do this, but I don’t think I can do this after all.”

“Just try and breathe slowly, or through your nose, or maybe into a paper bag”, Marcy says. “There’s no rush. You’ve only got like maybe thirty minutes until Donkey disappear again forever.”

“Not helping”, I say.

“Come on, I’m only kidding”, she adds.

“I think my heart has stopped, seriously. I can’t feel my pulse, fuck, Marcy, my skin is going cold.”

“Close your eyes”, Marcy suggests. “Just close your eyes and try to control your breathing.”

I do as she suggests, close my eyes and try to control my breathing.

“It’s only Donkey”, Marcy says. “You know them, you’ve known them all your life.”

“I know”, I say.

“Just pretend you’re going to see if they want to come and play, you know, not in like a super dirty sexual menage way but in an innocent neighborly friendly way.”

“Without the deflowering?” I ask, my eyes still closed.

“Exactly, no deflowering, no double penetration, no coming on your tits”, Marcy says.

“Breasts, Marcy”, I correct her, between controlled breaths. “Let’s keep in classy remember.”

“Breasts”, Marcy says. “No coming on your breasts.”

I open my eyes at the end of a long exhale of breath. The band has finished their brief closing march, the cheerleaders have long cleared away and Marcy and I are almost the last two people left in the entire stadium. The fact that we haven’t moved at all has brought the attention of the camera, and on the big screen at the end of the field I notice ourselves in horrific close up detail.

“Marcy”, I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Not only that”, she says, nodding to something outside my field of vision. “Look who’s coming to say hello.”

I know who it is even before I turn to look, just the thought of D-day coming freezing me even further into my chair, nervous excitement binding my emotions together as one. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, throw myself into their arms or throw myself with arms outstretched towards the field below us. I’d run if I trusted my legs to work, even though I know that escaping this is really the last thing I want to do.

“You want me to stay?” Marcy asks.

“Fuck yes”, I say, without hesitation.

“Hey”, Jack says, climbing up the stadium steps to get to us. “Were you planning on sitting there all day or were you going to come and say hello?”

“Hi Jack, hey Zach”, I say, surprised my voice still works. “I was going to come and say hello, I thought you might be busy with the team and celebrating and stuff.”

“We can do that when we get back home”, Zach says. “It’s cool that you’re here, we weren’t sure if we’d get to see you or not.”

“You know I’m a huge fan of football”, I lie. “I couldn’t miss the return of the prodigal sons.”

“I guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on”, Jack says. “It’s been a weird couple of months.”

“You can say that again”, I say. “Dad’s moved out, I guess you’ve heard?”

“We don’t talk to Mom much after what happened”, Zach says, “It’s kind of a weird situation right now, for all of us.”

“Right”, I say.

“Not that weird”, Marcy says. “Plenty of weirder shit going on in the states right now.”

I ignore her, even though she has a point.

“How long are you staying for?” I ask, desperate to maximize the time they are here.

“A few days”, Jack says. “Not long.”

“You doing anything?” Zach asks enthusiastically.

“Me? No”, I say, “I mean, I’ve got college but no, nothing planned.”

“Listen”, Jack says. “I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact, it’s been kind of a hard couple of months adjusting to everything that’s happened.”

“That’s okay”, I say. “It’s not like I’ve been in touch either.”

“It’s just-”, Zach begins before stopping himself. “I don’t know, it would be really nice to catch up while we are here.”

“Talk about stuff”, Jack adds, “you know?”

“I’d like that”, I say, before taking a deep breath. “I’ve got some things I want to talk about too, that I wanted to say to you before you left.”

“Are you free tonight?” Zach asks. “We could come over to the house.”

“Ok”, I say, hardly believing what I’m hearing.

“Just promise not to puke this time”, Jack adds.

I can feel my face go red but the levity breaks the tension nicely. “I promise”, I say meekly. “I haven’t touched alcohol since that night.”

“Nor have I, I swear”, Marcy says sarcastically, as she pulls her bag protectively into her lap.

“We better get back to the team”, Jack says. “Landon Maddox wants us to give him his nickname back, he’s pissed that everyone’s chanting Donkey for us and not for him. It’s good to see you, Jenny.”

“It’s good to see you too”, I say, still in shock.

“See you tonight”, Zach says, before they both bound back down the stairs like excited dogs.

I turn to Marcy, “So apparently acting as though everything is normal, is normal”, I say.

“They didn’t look in my direction once, did you notice?” Marcy complains. “They probably don’t even remember my name.”

“Was that as weird as I thought it was?” I say, ignoring her. “Did that just happen?”

Marcy giggles. “What can I say? Maybe I was wrong about them after all, and you seriously are the luckiest girl in the world. You do realize that tonight you’ve got a date with Donkey, in your bedroom?”

“As friends”, I say, my mind already racing. “Neighborly friends.”

“Yeah, right”, Marcy says. “You just remember that later when you’re drooling all over them.”

“They’re coming to my house”, I say, the notion sinking in bit by bit. “Donkey are coming to my house.”

We sit in the stadium seats for about thirty minutes longer, until I finally feel like I can trust my legs to carry me back to the car, still unable to believe that after a whole summer without contact, Donkey suddenly want to spend time with me. I want to know what the fuck is going on, and whether it’s a good thing that’s going to make my body rock or a bad thing all the porch sitting and cigarette smoking in the world won’t be able to cure.