Gabrielle's Bully (Young Adult Romance) (13 page)

“He won’t tell me,” Barbara responded gloomily. “But I heard it had something to do with her mother.”

That was easy to believe. Vicki had the most horrifying mother in the school, probably the county, a screaming harridan who made my mother look like Mrs. Cleaver on the reruns of
Leave it to Beaver
. Not even for Vicki’s legs would I take her mother.

The crowd erupted in applause as the team trotted onto the floor. I searched for Heath, and found him, running in behind Mike Dalton. It was my first glimpse of Heath in the uniform, and he looked great, fit and handsome. He was Number 12.

“There he is,” I yelped, punching Barbara.

“Take it easy, take it easy, I see him,” she said. “Lookin’ good,” she said wisely, imitating the coach in a football movie we’d seen. “Lookin’ awful good.”

The visiting team took the floor, and the captains met in the center for the jump. Jeff Lafferty faced the opposition’s man, exuding confidence.

“Look at him,” Barbara said disgustedly. “Wouldn’t you just love to burst that bubble?”

The referee threw the ball in the air, and as it came down Jeff tapped it to Mike. The game was underway.

It soon became clear what Heath had meant about Jeff. Even when Heath was standing free, unguarded, with a clear shot at the basket, Jeff wouldn’t pass to him. He acted as if Heath were invisible. Mike and the other guys played along with Heath, but Jeff ignored him. I knew that Jeff would not get away with this for long; if I had noticed it the coach certainly would, and let him have it. But Jeff was just childish enough to indulge his petty grudge as long as he could.

Even with Jeff’s lack of cooperation, Heath was doing well. Mike fed him the ball constantly and he had scored twelve points by the half. We were ahead, 26-18.

Barbara and I went out into the hall, pushing through the milling crowd to the ladies’ room. We were only there a minute when the cheering section arrived, monopolizing the space in front of the mirror. I would have left, but I was waiting for Barb, so I stood against the wall and exhorted her silently to hurry up.

Vicki Stanfield fluffed her short curls with a pick and made a mouth in the mirror. “What do you think of old Heathland these days?” she asked Daphne. “Not bad now that his hair’s growing in, huh?”

My heart sank. I stared at my shoes.

“Not bad at all,” Daphne responded. “Thinking of giving him a try?”

“Maybe,” Vicki said mysteriously.

I knew they were doing this for my benefit. They were aware that I was seeing Heath, which nobody had seemed to mind until he turned out to be a basketball star. Now he had a lot more to recommend him. I was receiving notice that the heavy artillery was moving in; the message was: clear out and make way for your betters.

I couldn’t stand it anymore and went out to the hall. Barbara found me there, staring into space.

“Earth to Gaby, earth to Gaby,” she intoned, snapping her fingers in my face. “What’s the matter with you? I called you three times and you kept staring ahead like a zombie.”

I looked at her unhappily. “I heard Vicki talking in there. It sounded like she was planning to aim both barrels at Heath in the very near future.”

“Oh.” That gave her a moment’s pause. Then she waved her hand. “Oh, come on, lighten up. If he resisted Stacey Trumbull he can resist Vicki.”

“Barb, you know that’s not the same thing,” I said. “Stacey is as dumb as dirt. Vicki is the secretary of the National Honor Society.”

“
You’re
on the National Honor Society,” Barbara pointed out.

“I’m not an officer.”

“What’s your problem? You think he’s going to be impressed by officers because he went to military school?”

“You’re not funny at all,” I said bitterly. “You were worried enough when you thought she might be going after Mike again.”

She sighed. “This is true.”

“What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to forget it for now, because as of now nothing has happened. The game is going to be starting again in a minute, let’s get back in there.”

We walked inside and climbed over several people to resume our seats as the second half began.

It was immediately apparent that Jeff had received the word from on high during the break, because he was now passing to Heath and including him in the plays. As a result Heath made even more points and fast became the game’s high scorer.

Heath was fouled in the last quarter, and took his place on the line for his two free throws. A hush fell over the gym as he toed the line and palmed the ball, trying to reach that state of readiness that I had often sought myself when in the same circumstances. I said a silent prayer as I watched his slim, erect form, all alone in the center of the floor. He held the ball at eye level, both hands on the side seams, and then let it fly in a calculated arc. It swished through the net cleanly.

The crowd murmured and stirred, but remained calm, anticipating his second try. Heath bounced the ball a few times, his face a mask of concentration, and then raised his eyes to the net again, releasing the ball almost as soon as he looked up. It bounced off the rim and teetered on the edge, spinning dizzily as the crowd held its breath. Then it tipped inward and the home side of the gym erupted in a shout of joy.

I watched him grin at Mike, and then at Joe Terry, who patted him in approval and said something that made Heath give that slight, breathy chuckle that I recognized even though I couldn’t hear it in the surrounding din. I felt a savage twinge of jealousy.

I had thought that sound was made only for me.

The rest of the game passed quickly, dominated by the home team, which won, 48-28. When it was over, all the onlookers were sure of one thing: there was a new star on the horizon, Heathland Winthrop Lindsay. The Fourth.

I, of course, was miserable. I had wanted him to do well, but not this well. My competition would be emerging from the woodwork after the show this afternoon. I felt like blowing a whistle and telling them to line up on the right.

Barbara and I waited for the guys to shower and dress. Barbara wanted Heath and me to go with her and Mike to The Barn, which was a soda joint where the team players usually went after the games. Needless to say, I had never been there, except on Sunday afternoons with my family or with one of my girlfriends. I had never had the nerve to just show up when I knew the place would be filled with the jocks and their groupies. Now I was going to be among that crowd. This didn’t give me the thrill it should have, since I knew Jeff and company would be there. My fondest wish at the moment was to grab Heath’s hand and head for the hills. But Barbara was so anxious for the four of us to get together that I didn’t have the heart to say no. I knew she felt bad for all the times in the past when I had been left out because I hadn’t been dating anyone, and this was her chance to include me.

Heath came out with Mike and saw me immediately, dropping his gym bag and opening his arms. I ran into them and he hugged me close. And just for that moment, I thought everything would be all right.

“Break it up, you two, break it up,” Mike teased, putting his arm around Barbara. “I realize you haven’t seen each other since last night, but please try to control yourselves. So what do you think of this guy, huh, Gaby? Still waters run deep. I’ve already asked for his autograph, which I assume will be worth big bucks some day, and the team is planning on having his gym shoes bronzed. Sound like a good idea?”

Mike always went on like this, and he was pretty funny, too, but his banter lacked the nasty edge of sarcasm that characterized Jeff’s humor. Heath’s skin became faintly tinged with pink as he listened.

“Oh, look at him, he’s blushing. Isn’t that cute? Knock off the shy act, Lindsay, the girls know you’re only doing it to get attention.”

“Dalton, will you grow up?” Barbara muttered. “Put a sock in it.”

Mike became all innocence. “Ah, honey, don’t be mad. Old Heath doesn’t mind, do you, Heath? He’s got to get used to handling people worse than me, and this is practice. Just think: product endorsements, centerfolds, maybe even a spot on a late-night talk show. And we’ll be able to say we knew him when.”

Heath just smiled and shook his head, dismissing Mike’s nonsense. It was obvious that he didn’t mind it because he knew it was good natured. And I enjoyed being part of the foursome, included in Mike’s chatter. Always before I had been the odd one out, Barbara’s friend but not part of the group. Now I had stepped inside the charmed circle, and so easily, because I was with Heath. And Heath was suddenly okay, too, because he could play basketball. When you thought about it that way, it was all really rather silly.

We decided to go in separate cars, so Heath could take me home afterwards. On the short drive there I was quiet, thinking.

“We don’t have to go to The Barn, if you don’t want to,” Heath said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll take you anywhere you like.”

He saw through me as if I were a pane of glass.

“No, it’s all right.” I didn’t want to rob him of his moment of glory; Barb said the group there always made a fuss over the game’s hero when he came in. Besides, Barbara and Mike would be waiting for us.

Mike waved from a booth in the rear as we walked through the door. He did it so naturally, as if we were part of the post game celebration every week. It would never occur to him to wonder why we hadn’t been friends before; he was as guileless as a child.

Quite a few people applauded when they caught sight of Heath, and he glanced at me, startled. He hadn’t expected such a reception. Perhaps I should have warned him. Well, too late now. We made our way back to Mike and Barb.

“What was that all about?” Heath murmured. “I felt like the President entering the Senate chamber.”

I slid in next to him. “Oh, they always do that. Homage to the hero.”

He looked uncomfortable, but didn’t reply. I canvassed the other booths and saw Jeff and Daphne on the other side of the room. It appeared that they were together again.

An accident of fate had made them the two best looking seniors, so it was sort of ordained that they would wind up a couple. The funny thing was that they didn’t seem to like each other that much. They fought a lot, and broke up about once a month. This was obviously a time of truce; they hung on each other, grinning hugely. I wished them long life and prosperity and looked away.

The waitress came to take our order. Mike knew her and exchanged small talk for a moment before giving his and Barbara’s order.

“And you’d better talk to my silent partner here,” Mike added, indicating Heath. “Or rather, talk to his interpreter. Nobody reaches him except through this redhead on your left.”

I could feel myself blushing as Heath told her what we wanted. Really, Mike could be embarrassing.

I began to relax as Mike continued to dominate the conversation with a description of his social studies class which kept us in stitches. It was something called “Modern Urban Civilization,” and Mike maintained that the teacher didn’t know what that meant, so they saw a different film every week. It was a class of graduating seniors who were just marking time to collect the required number of hours. They wouldn’t object if they stared at a wall twice a week for 45 minutes as long as they got credit for it. He was in the middle of a rundown of last Monday’s session when a shadow fell across the table, and we looked up to see Vicki Stanfield in the aisle. My hands clenched in my lap. Oh, oh, I thought. Here it comes.

“Heath,” she began, “I just had to congratulate you on the game today. Do you remember me? I’m Vicki Stanfield, from your English class. I sit right by the window in the last row.”

She flashed him her most winning smile, and it was winning indeed. Vicki had worn bands on her teeth for four years, and her parents had spent a mint, in order to produce the effect we were witnessing now. And it was worth it. She was a poster child for The American Dental Association.

“Oh, yeah. Hi, Vicki,” Heath said. He was regarding her with mild interest, and it was clear that his response lacked the degree of enthusiasm to which Vicki was accustomed.

She tried again. “I’m having a lot of trouble with that assignment on Milton, and I noticed that you always seem to understand what’s going on. Maybe Monday during study you could give me a few pointers? I would really appreciate it.”

Vicki, the secretary of The National Honor Society, was having trouble with her English assignment. I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to approach him with such a transparent fairy tale, and in front of her old boyfriend, too. Whatever Vicki lacked in class she made up for in nerve.

“I don’t know if I’ll be in study on Monday. I’ve got an excuse to go for my team physical and it’s overdue already,” Heath answered.

Thank heavens, I thought. But Vicki was not one to let such a trivial matter stand in her way.

“Maybe some other time, then,” she said, shifting her weight so that her legs were shown to advantage in her little cheerleading outfit.

“Maybe,” Heath said neutrally.

“‘Bye for now,” she said, including Mike and Barbara in her farewell smile, ignoring me as if I were a piece of lint on the seat next to Heath. “I’ll count on it,” she added in an undertone Heath alone, and sauntered away.