The Queen Bee of Bridgeton (10 page)

"They're trying to run out the clock," she said, enthralled with the action and annoyed with my ignorance.  The clock continued to click, five seconds, four seconds,
three
seconds.  And that annoying team just kept passing the ball back and forth, back and forth.  Then, with two seconds left, Will came out of nowhere and snatched the ball out of the air as someone on the other team tried to pass it.  The crowd went insane.  Will barely dribbled once before he flung the ball nearly from half court as the buzzer rang.  I think my heart stopped as the ball slammed against the backboard then bounced on the rim.  But it started up again as soon as the ball fell in. 
Three points.
Bridgeton won its first state championship in 18 years.  Caught up with emotion and excitement, I stormed the court along with the rest of the Bridgeton Academy population.

All the Bridgeton students began a spontaneous rendition of the school fight song.  I didn't know the words so I just weaved through the crowd in search of Will. I wanted to congratulate him on his victory, but he was nowhere to be found. Disappointed, I found Sasha and told her I wanted to go home. But she said, "Don't be ridiculous.  The captain is throwing a victory party. You have to go.  I guarantee he'll be there."

So I went to the party and walked around aimlessly for over an hour feeling extremely uncomfortable.  I didn't know anyone there and Sasha disappeared twenty seconds after we arrived. I wandered into some sort of showroom inside the huge house and studied the artwork displayed.  I wasn't a huge fan of art, but I did recognize some of the pieces and the quiet of the room really eased the headache the loud revelries of my drunken classmates had caused. 

"Cool, I've been there," I said to no one at all as I picked up a book with the Louvre on the cover.

"You have?  I thought you went to Spain. You were in France too?" Will said as he stepped up behind me.

I spun around so quickly that I actually lost my balance for a second. Will grabbed my elbow and steadied me.

"Um, while I was in Barcelona at the dance festival, some of us dancers went to Paris one weekend and did the tourist thing."

"I still can't believe you've danced in Europe.  I've never met anyone who ever did something that...amazing."

"You're pretty amazing yourself.  That was a great game.  I guess your shoes
are
lucky."

"I don't think it was the shoes.  I think it was you."  Will
smiled
at me. "Here, this is for you," he said, handing me the basketball that had been tucked under his arm. It's the game ball. I want you to have it."

I accepted the ball and turned it over in my hands. On it he'd written the words 'Will and Sonya.' I was so touched my heart sashayed in my chest. "What no flowers?" I asked jokingly.

Will
unraveled
a devilish grin. "How dare you doubt me?" He opened his jacket and pulled out three white tulips. As he handed them to me, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. His lips lingered there. The ball slipped from my hands and bounced away. His arms wrapped around my waist as his lips brushed against my chin then down to my neck. A rush of heat filled me. His lips felt so good on my body. I had to admit that a part of me, a big part of me, really wanted him. I not only wanted Will to be my first kiss, I wanted him to be my first everything. But another big part of me couldn't get his Cherry Picking out of my head. Before I gave my heart to him, I needed to hear everything…in his own words. I needed him to tell me who he was and who he wanted to be. Of course, there was no assurance that he'd always be true to me, but at least I wouldn't be going in blind.

He had started kissing up my neck, sensually searching for my lips when I blurted, "Will, are you a top Cherry Picker?"

Will stopped abruptly and sighed, letting his head fall on my shoulder. Then he stood up straight and turned away from me. "Who told you about that? Was it
Makenzie
?"

"Who?"

"Closet Girl I guess you can call her." When I shook my head, he said, "Let me think, it must have been Ashley then." Will sat on the couch and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "Cherry Picker is a game some of the jocks made up. We earn points for different sexual acts."

I wasn't going to let him off that easy. "What kind of acts?"

He sighed again. "Are you sure you want to hear about this?"

I nodded.

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, sex in a closet is more points than sex in a bedroom because of the risk of being caught.
The more dangerous the location, the more points.
You get triple points for a threesome and things like that."

"What about the girl?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you get more points for certain girls? Like virgins?"

Will
bolted
upright. "Do you think that's why I'm with you? Is that what Ashley told you?"

I nodded. "She showed me your score sheet."

"That bitch!" He kicked the coffee table. I didn't understand how he could let someone punch him in the nose on the basketball court and not show any signs of anger, yet Ashley telling me about Cherry Picker totally set him off. He was right though. It was a pretty bitchy thing to do. Could Ashley be a member of the Bitch Brigade?

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "If you check the dates on that score sheet, you'll see that I haven't…added any points in over a month." He opened his eyes and looked directly at me as he said, "Sony, I've been with you for two weeks and I haven't even kissed you. Does it seem like I'm using you for sex?"

"No." My voice was small and unsure. "I know, at least I hope, you're not using me. I think you honestly
think
you like me. I'm just afraid of what will happen when you get tired of me and you're ready to move on."

"Come here," he said patting the spot next to him on the couch. After I sat down, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the side of my head. "I've done a lot of things I regret. I told you when we first met that I didn't like myself." He pulled me tighter. "You have no reason to believe me. You have no reason to trust me. I'll understand if you think I'm completely disgusting and you never want to see me again. But talking to you, spending time with you, just being near you makes me the happiest I've been in…in a really long time. Please don't give up on me. Just give me a chance."

I lost track of time as we sat in a warm embrace. I closed my eyes and blocked Ashley out of my mind and concentrated only on Will. I couldn't give up on him. In the short time I'd known him, I'd felt grown so close to him. Already, I felt he was a part of me.

Finally, Will said, "Come on, I'll take you home."

Here we go again. He wanted to take me home. How was I going to get out of it this time? "That's okay, Will. I'm here with Sasha. We'll get home together."

"How?"

We usually got Des to drop us off at a bus stop, but I didn't want to tell him that. So I just said, "Des."

"Oh, so you'll let him take you home, but not me? I'm insulted." Will pretended to be angry, but a smile hid behind his eyes.

I tried to come up with a quick retort, but nothing came to mind. The cold fingers of panic tickled my spine.

"Actually, I'm not going home. I'm going to the studio," I lied.

"Now?
It's almost ten o'clock at night."

"Yeah, I need to print something out for my next audition. It's…really important."

Will shrugged. "Fine, I'll take you to the studio." He grabbed my hand and helped me off the couch.

"Okay." At least that would buy me some time to figure out my next lie. There was no way I could let him see
Venton
Heights. "I should tell Sasha I'm leaving," I said as he led me out of the room. Maybe she'd help me figure out a way to keep Will away from
Venton
Heights.

Will held my hand as he led me through the house while we looked for Sasha.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked as we walked through the kitchen.  I looked around and saw nothing but beer and liquor bottles.

"I don't drink alcohol," I said, regretting the words as soon as they'd left my mouth.  What kind of high school girl didn't drink?

"I know you don't. You're not that kind of girl. And I'm glad.  I don't drink either."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I never drink.
Ever."
Will
looked
around the kitchen.  "There has to be something non-alcoholic here."

"What about this punch?" I let go of his hand and scooped out some red liquid into a cup.

"Um, I doubt if that's non-alcoholic."  Will gently
took
the cup out of my hand. "At a party, never drink anything you haven't seen poured out of a previously factory sealed container."  I thought he was joking so I laughed a little, but then I noted the ominous look on his face.  His eyes changed to a dark mysterious blue as if he knew from experience.

"Okay," I said, retreating from the cup.  Will looked in the refrigerator and found an unopened can of Coke which he handed to me.

"I don't think we're
gonna
find your sister," he said as we circled the house for the third time.

"Yeah, I think you're right.  I'm not worried though.  She's probably just with Des."

"Well, let's head out before it gets too late. Wait a minute. We left your ball. I'll get it." Will
scampered
away leaving me by the refrigerator holding my Coke with both hands like a two year old holding a
sippy
cup. Then someone hugged me from behind and said, "There you are, Darling.  I've been looking everywhere for you." I spun around and found myself being groped by Desmond.

"Sorry, Des, wrong sister," I said, twisting out of his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.  I didn't realize how much you look like Sasha, especially from behind.  Oh, not that I'm looking at your behind.  It's your
hair,
you never wear your hair down." 

Desmond continued blubbering his awkward profuse apology until I said, "
It's
fine, Des.  So you don't know where Sasha is either?  I've been looking for her too."

"She probably drove some intoxicated students home.  She does that sometimes.  Will you have her call my cell when you see her?"  It struck me the way he said 'intoxicated students'. What high school kid talks that way?  He was so proper it was ridiculous.  He was like an accountant hiding in a teenager's body. I wondered what Sasha saw in him besides his money and his great car.  But then again, with her proclivity for perfection, they were an excellent match. 

"Why is she avoiding me?" I heard a voice say after Des had wandered off.  I turned around and found Colbert staring at me.  She looked a lot less like Eloise or Madeline or whichever one I was thinking of now that she was not in her uniform. 

"Who?"