Gabrielle's Bully (Young Adult Romance) (14 page)

The waitress brought the food as she was leaving and the others dug in, Barbara taking the opportunity to roll her eyes at me as she picked up her sandwich. I knew she would have more to say on that little scene later.

I had lost my appetite, and played with my jumbo burger while the rest of the food vanished from the table. Heath noticed that I wasn’t eating and asked if the burger was done well. He knew I couldn’t eat rare meat.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just not as hungry as I thought I was,” I said.

“I’ll take it if you don’t want it,” Mike said shamelessly.

“Michael!” Barbara scolded. “You are impossible!”

“Why should we let it go to waste?” Mike asked logically.

“Here, you can have it,” I said, glad to see it go. The smell of it was making me nauseated. I pushed it across the table to him and he started in on it with relish.

The sound of the jukebox and the video games in the background was giving me a headache. I said I was going to the ladies’ room and Barbara jumped up to follow me.

“‘I’m having a lot of trouble with that assignment on Milton,’” Barb said as soon as the door closed behind us, mimicking Vicki. “I’ll bet she is. She’s got more brass than a marching band. Well, Heath certainly gave her the cold shoulder, I was very happy to see.”

“No, he didn’t,” I answered. “He just told her the truth. If she corners him again, he’ll help her. That’s the way he is. And don’t be so sure he isn’t interested because he didn’t fall all over himself to get to her tonight. He’s very polite, and too much of a gentleman to come on to her with me sitting there next to him. That’s not to say what will happen when I’m not around.”

Barbara stared at me. “Boy, you really have a lot of faith in yourself, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “I’m just trying to be realistic. She’s got a lot going for her. She’s in with the right crowd and she’s a senior, which means that she and Heath will have all the same events to go to in the spring. If I were a guy, I’d be interested.”

“You’re neurotic, do you know that? Since the first time you went out with Heath you’ve been convinced that he was only marking time with you until someone better came along. As far as I can see, he hasn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to anyone but you, and yet you’re waiting every minute for the boom to fall. And his reaction to Vicki was not politeness, it was disinterest. If you couldn’t see that then you’re worse off than I thought.”

I said nothing, fiddling with the compact in my hand.

“And you can stop looking like a kicked dog, I’m not trying to beat up on you. I’m only telling you what I think is the truth. Can’t you believe in Heath just a little? He seems sincere, as if he really cares about you. Don’t you feel that way?”

“I want to, but . . .”

Barbara sighed. “Look, we’d better get back outside, they’re going to think we died in here. This conversation is to be continued, all right?”

“All right.”

“And if the worst happens and Heath gets interested in Vicki, we’ll just introduce him to her mother.
 
That will be the end of the romance, okay?”

I laughed weakly. “Have you got any aspirin?” I asked as we left the lounge.

Barb fished in her purse and produced a bottle, and I took two when we got back to the table.

“What’s wrong?” Heath asked me. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“It’s just a headache.”

“Let’s go, then,” Heath said, standing up. He was reaching for our coats when Jeff Lafferty came up behind him, wearing his most unpleasant grin. The pounding in my temples worsened. What had ever induced me to come here?

“Hey, Dalton,” Jeff said, “why don’t you come over to our table? What are you doing here with these dull types? What are you talking about, poetry, politics, the national debt? It looks like a pretty grim group to me.”

He was placing Mike squarely on the spot, and Mike had never been one to challenge Jeff. Mike always danced around Jeff, staying on his good side but not really supporting some of the things he said and did, either. Mike maintained a delicate balance with his bluff good humor, but it was clear he wouldn’t be able to finesse his way out of this one. Jeff was waiting alertly for his reply.

“Uh, I don’t know, Laff, I was just getting ready to leave,” Mike said evasively.

“Yeah, I could see why you would want to,” Jeff said, glancing significantly at Heath.

I watched Jeff, wondering how someone so beautiful could be such a louse. Why couldn’t he just go his own way and let other people go theirs? No.
 
He had to needle, and prod, and agitate, just to prove that he had everyone under his thumb.

Mike said nothing, obviously hoping that Jeff would drop it. But Jeff had not accomplished his mission yet. This whole scene was to get to Heath, the real object of his enmity.

“I guess you think you were hot stuff today,” Jeff said to Heath, turning to face him. “I wonder how you’ll do when the coach stops telling the rest of us to give you a clear field. The coach used to be in the army, you know. I think he must like your haircut.”

Heath said nothing, but I could see the pressure building inside of him. The rest of the people in the place were falling silent, watching the two tall figures in the aisle.

“Yeah, that must be it,” Jeff continued.
 
“Or else he heard about your father’s girlfriend, and he’s hoping for an introduction. My old man goes to the country club, and he’s seen your father there a few times with some blonde who looks young enough to be his daughter. I hope he’s not going to marry her. He probably should adopt her instead.”

Heath’s jaw went tight and he moved forward. I could see that there would be a fight in a second, and I boiled over with rage at Jeff and sympathy for Heath. The pain in my head reached a crescendo. I stepped in front of Heath, confronting Jeff.

“Why don’t you just shut up, Jeff Lafferty? You’re not fooling anybody with all this talk, we know the real reason you’re causing trouble. You can’t stand it because Heath is a better player than you are, and you’re jealous. You’re afraid he’s going to steal the limelight and you might not be king of the hill anymore. Poor Jeffie.
 
If you can’t be number one you’re going to ruin it for whoever is. You’re just a spoiled baby who won’t play ‘Simon Says’ if he can’t be Simon. Why don’t you pick up your marbles and go home? I think your mother is calling you.”

Mike and Barbara were staring at me, astonished, and the other diners were frozen in place, waiting to see what would happen. I stood rooted, shaking, surprised myself at the words which had rushed out of my mouth before I thought about them. Jeff was white, speechless for once in his life, looking at me as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Then, as he recovered, his expression changed. He advanced on me with a dangerous glint in his eye and I recoiled.

Heath moved so fast he seemed a blur. He yanked Jeff back from me with one swift move and said in a deadly quiet voice, “Try it, and I’ll break your arm.”

Jeff wrestled with Heath and Mike jumped up to separate them. Someone had alerted the owner at the back of the restaurant, and he came running to help Mike. He was yammering in a thick accent that he didn’t want any trouble in his place, wouldn’t the boys just be good boys and go home.

It was all over in a minute. Jeff subsided, calling over his shoulder that he wasn’t through with us yet. That I believed. Mike and Heath bundled Barb and me into our coats and we were outside on the sidewalk before we knew what happened.

I sagged against the front of the building, spent. Heath put his arm around me. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

He studied me for a moment in the light from the sign overhead, and then began to chuckle. It escalated into laughter, and soon he was dissolved in hysterics, wiping his eyes. Mike and Barb stood watching him as if he were deranged.

“If you could have seen yourself,” Heath gasped. “You were great.” He put his hands on his hips and spoke in a high pitched voice, looking up as if he were addressing an imaginary person taller than himself.

“‘You shut up, Jeff Lafferty, you’re nothing but a spoiled baby,’” he recited, cackling. “If only I had a picture of Lafferty’s face.” He grabbed me and kissed me soundly, holding me at arm’s length. “You are a tiger, a tiger. I don’t need another person in this world if you are on my side.”

I giggled, glowing with the praise, but had the presence of mind to say, “You won’t think it’s so funny when Jeff starts in on us on Monday. He’s not going to forget this one.”

Heath sobered. “Yeah, well, I’ve been steering clear of him, trying to avoid a fight, but if he kicks up again I’ll beat him senseless.” He said distantly, almost as an afterthought, “And I can do it, too.”

I felt a chill at his tone. I didn’t like the look on his face, and said to distract him, “We’d better get going, it’s getting late.”

“Remember us?” Barb called from down the street. “You two going to stand there all night?”

We followed after them and said goodbye in the parking lot.

“Do you think you could come over to my house for a while?” Heath said as we were getting into the car.

“I don’t know. I told my mother I’d be home by seven.”

“Can’t you call her and ask her for an extension? My father and Lois are away, they won’t be back until tomorrow. We could just relax for a couple of hours. Roger won’t bother us.”

That prospect was too inviting to be denied. “All right. I’ll call her when we get there.”

Heath’s house was silent as we entered, and I contrasted it with my own, where the noise of occupancy was always in the air. What must it be like to come home to this emptiness every day?

Heath led me to the library and crouched before the fireplace to pile logs on the hearth. “I’ll get this going and then go up to tell Roger we’re here,” he said. “He’ll just stay upstairs if I tell him to.”

This manner of authority was a side of him I rarely saw. He accepted his ability to order Roger around as if everyone had a live-in servant to do their bidding. But I knew that this service was small recompense for the family life he lacked.

“I’ll call home,” I said as he left the room, going to the phone on a table next to the sofa.

As it rang I glanced at my surroundings. What impressed me most of all about Heath’s house was its extraordinary neatness. It looked as if no one lived there. The furniture was all gleaming and perfect, like an illustration in a catalogue, but there were no magazines or coffee cups or newspapers about the room, or anywhere else. It was sterile and sanitized, but somehow not inviting for all its perfectly coordinated patterns and harmonizing colors. It was obviously done by a decorator, but it had no life, no animation. The worn easy chairs and general confusion in my parents’ den seemed preferable to this 8 x 10 glossy of the ideal home. It reminded me of something, and as I searched for the image, it came to me. A few years back my parents had been thinking of moving, and had dragged Craig and me around to see the models for some new developments being built on the other side of town. The sample homes had had the same quality I found in Heath’s house: they were beautifully appointed but you knew nobody lived there.

My mother answered on the other end, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hi, Mom. I was wondering if I could stay out a couple of hours longer. We’re here at Heath’s house and he’ll bring me home around nine, if that’s okay with you.”

I knew that she thought the “we” included Barbara, since I had gone to the game with her, but I deliberately didn’t clarify, not wanting to risk an answer I didn’t want to hear. I salved my conscience with the idea that I wasn’t actually lying, but of course I wasn’t actually telling the truth, either. I waited tensely for her reply.

She didn’t seem in the mood to quibble about it, for which I was grateful, and merely said to make sure I was back on time. I hung up quickly before she could think of anything else.

Heath returned, whistling cheerfully as he started the fire with kindling and some newspaper. I recognized the tune.

“I like that song,” I said. “That’s what the people in Rick’s place stand up and sing to drown out the Germans in
Casablanca
.”

Heath laughed. “That’s right. It’s
La Marseillaise
. To the rest of the world it’s the French National Anthem, but to you it’s the song from
Casablanca
.”

I raised my fist in the air in a threatening gesture. “Don’t make fun of me,
Heathland
.”

His eyes widened innocently. “I was not making fun of you. And just to demonstrate my good will, I will now sing the entire song for you, in French.”

“Gee, golly, wow, will you really? I can’t wait.”

He ignored that and asked, in French, if I would please be seated because the performance was about to begin. That much I could follow from my French classes, but his accent was really good. He sounded like Madame Joubert, the department chairman at school. I told him to proceed. At least, that’s what I think I said.

He bowed elaborately from the waist, enjoying himself. “
Enchanté, Mademoiselle
.” He struck a pose, one hand behind his back, the other at his throat, like a suitor in a comic opera. I sat up straight and folded my hands in my lap, batting my eyelashes at him.