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“Shit,” says Danny's dad. “JJ, can you hand me the phone?” Then he announces, “I'm going to call Dr. Rohm and tell him to meet us at the hospital.”

“I don't think that's a good idea, Chuck,” Mrs. Diamond says to her husband. Then she turns to me and says, “JJ, do you think you could take him? We weren't planning on going anywhere tonight, and none of us,” she looks pointedly at Mr. D, “should be driving.”

Obviously.

So I say, “Yeah, we'll take him.”

“Thanks, honey,” she replies, “his insurance card is in the cubby by the desk. He's 18, so there shouldn't be any problems. We'll have Dr. Rohm meet you there.”

“Drive careful,” Mom tells me.

I think that it's ridiculous that they can't take their son to the hospital, and no one is giving me any credit for caring enough about him to discover that his arm is broken. So I decide to point this out, just to let them know they all OWE ME BIG.

So I raise my arms in the air and say, “FYI everyone, just wanted to let you know that I've earned myself a Get Out of Jail Free card.”

“What do you mean?” Dad asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

I point at him and look him in the eye, so he knows I am serious. “I mean next time someone wants to ground me, I'm turning that card in.”

Phillip drives while Danny and I sit in the back seat. Danny's head is resting on my shoulder, his sore arm's lying across my lap, and I'm gently stroking his swollen fingers.

Yeah, I know.

Many, many girls would practically kill to be in my position. And let's face it, even I am not immune to Danny's charm. But right now that's like the last thing on my mind because I know all too well what broken bones feel like. I've broken my right arm, my left wrist and three different fingers, while playing football with these boys. And I couldn't even begin to count the numerous sprains, bruises, cuts and stitches. So instead of feeling slightly turned on, I just feel like I'm going to cry.

And that's weird, because I didn't even cry when I broke my own bones.

Oh and FYI to all you doubters out there, Danny's arm was indeed broken.

I was RIGHT!

I love it when that happens!

I'm sitting in my room, curled up on my window seat, reading a great book. I'm having a hard time putting it down because I'm dying to find out if Madison will end up with Chase, and if they'll be able to solve the mystery and return the stolen diamond before the Mafia hit man gets them. I only have a few chapters left, and although I want to peek at the ending, I could never do that.

It would ruin a perfectly good story!

Just as I am getting to a really steamy part, where Chase accidentally walks in on Madison while she is in the shower.

Accidental, my ass.

My phone rings.

It's Lisa. Dang it! She is so chatty. I may never get her off this phone! She is regaling me with the story of Christmas at her father's crazy relatives, and I am half listening, half reading, when a huge snowball splats on my window, scaring me to death and causing me to drop both my book and the phone. I bend down, pick up the phone and put it back up to my ear, just as another snowball hits my window.

“What was that?” Lisa cries in my ear.

“Sorry, I dropped you. Someone is throwing snowballs at my window. It scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, who is it?” she snaps impatiently.

I glance out and see Danny holding a football up in the air, grinning at me. Phillip has so many clothes on that he looks like the Michelin man. “It's Phillip and Danny. I think they want me to come play football with….”

Strip football?” Lisa screeches, interrupting me. “I'm coming over. Now.”

I hear a click in my ear and know that she has hung up on me.

Kind of rude, don't ya think?

But I will probably forgive her because she has a huge crush on Danny and the idea of seeing him with no shirt on is almost too much for her to handle.

I think it's hilarious.

I mean he's just a guy. Okay, he's a hot guy.

I open my window and yell to the boys, “Be right down.”

Strip football.

Sounds indecent, I know.

But we don't strip, like naked or anything.

Well, at least not completely.

Strip football is a game we created a few years ago. It is usually played on a sunny day, when there is snow on the ground. The rules are a bit sketchy at best, mostly because Danny and I tend to make them up as we go. The basic gist of it is if you mess up, like miss a well-thrown pass, get intercepted, fumble the ball, or miss an important tackle, you lose an article of clothing. Danny and I tend to argue, okay, so we fight, during this game because what constitutes a bad play or pass is a bit of a grey area.

And well, Danny and I both always think we're right.

That's where Phillip comes in.

I am convinced that the United Nations should send Phillip to the Middle East. He would have a Peace Treaty signed, with all parties thinking they got the best deal, in under an hour. It is simply due to his fine negotiation skills that Danny and I don't kill each other.

He is truly amazing. Smart too. Somehow, I think since he never gets involved in the arguments, he always stays warm and dry, while Danny and I are running around in the snow with nothing on but a T-shirt, jeans, one sock and if we're lucky, maybe a mitten.

The fun part about playing the game in the winter, we have played it in the summer but the game is over pretty fast, is that you have lots of layers to strip off before you're out of the game. Our moms used to yell at us because they were afraid we'd freeze to death. It's a major embarrassment to be called inside by your mom. Much worse than losing outright. But thankfully, they gave up on us, assuming we're old enough to come in the house before frostbite sets in.

I quick put on multiple layers. First a swimsuit, then T-shirt, bike shorts, sweatshirt, sweatpants, snow pants, jacket, mittens, socks and boots. I pull my hair back in a ponytail, throw on a baseball cap, and then I add sunglasses and a scarf for good measure.

You have to be very careful about how many layers you put on because there is a fine line between perfect and too many. Too many layers and you can't bend your elbows or knees. And if you can't bend them, it makes it very difficult to throw, catch, and run. Then you can end up stripped so fast that the extra layers didn't really do you any good in the first place.

When I get outside, I see that it's not just Danny and Phillip who are going to play, but some other guys have shown up too.

As you can imagine, strip football is a bit of a novelty game and is developing quite a following. You'd think beings there is stripping involved that it would be a coed game, like strip poker, but this game is for guys only. Well, except for me. And it's more of an I'm a manly, macho, tough guy, and I can stand to be out in the cold weather playing football with practically no clothes on kind of game.

The boys have already split into two teams, by the time I plod over through the snow. We had a beautiful white Christmas, and there are about four inches of new snow blanketing the grass. The teams seem to be split, Juniors versus Seniors, with Phillip, Neil, Joey, and I, on one team and Danny, Dillon, Kevin, and Brandon, on the other.

We huddle up and start on offense. Joey plays quarterback and makes a perfect throw to Phillip. Phillip catches it, but fumbles it and off comes a coat. The game continues like this. Every few plays someone loses an article of clothing. I'm doing pretty well. I have only lost my jacket, cap, and scarf. Phillip, who I knew was way too bulked up, has lost all three of his jackets and is now performing much better. Our team is also winning 21-14!