What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You (3 page)

BOYS DO CRY

Mud is for slipping and mud is for slinging. Either way, mud is not your friend.

“L
ast soccer game of the season,” Haley said as she huddled on the bleachers with Whitney Klein and Sasha Lewis. She'd come to support Reese and the rest of the Hillsdale varsity squad against rival Old Tappan.

Whitney adjusted her clear plastic raincoat and glanced at the sky. “I heard it's going to rain. I swear if it starts I'm out of here.”

“Toughen up, Whit,” Sasha said. “How can you possibly get wet? You're totally encased in plastic.”

“Still, I don't care if it is the last soccer game of the season, I don't do rain.”

Haley and Sasha exchanged an affectionate eye roll behind Whitney's back. When Haley had first arrived at Hillsdale, Whitney and Sasha had been part of a school-ruling—make that school-terrorizing—brat pack led by queen bee Coco De Clerq. A lot had happened since those bad old days. When his mother had won the gubernatorial election a few weeks earlier, Coco's boyfriend, Spencer Eton, had become the First Son of the State of New Jersey, and Coco was now too busy being First Girlfriend to bother with commoners like her old friends. The trio had already drifted apart anyway. Now Whitney's mom was living with Sasha's dad, so Whitney and Sasha had become unlikely sort-of stepsisters. Sasha was tall, athletic and musical, with long blond hair—a natural golden girl. Whitney was also blond but curvier and ditzier. Their family dramas had brought them close again, in spite of their personality differences. They spent their weekends wearing clothes Whitney designed for her fashion line, WK, and cruising in Sasha's '69 Mustang, Stallion.

“Go, Reese!” Haley shouted. The score was tied 1–1, and Old Tappan had the ball. But Reese Highland intercepted it and started dribbling down the field. He passed to Zach Woolsey, who took a shot at the goal and missed.

“No!” Sasha yelled. “Not to Zach! Don't pass to Zach!”

“What just happened?” Whitney asked. She liked going to games but rarely paid attention to the action on the field. The action in the bleachers was more her speed. Sebastian Bodega and Mia Delgado, two gorgeous Spanish exchange students, had just sat down to watch the game for a few minutes. They had a strange, ambiguous relationship—Sebastian called Mia his ex-girlfriend, but Haley thought he still seemed hung up on her.

“Zach's been weak lately,” Sasha explained. “His head's not in it or something.”

It began to drizzle. “Look, it's raining!” Whitney whined. “Can we get out of here, please?”

“There's only two minutes left on the clock,” Haley said. “The game will be over soon.”

“You can wait two minutes, can't you, Whit?” Sasha said.

“But the game's tied,” Whitney said. “What if they go into overtime?”

“They won't,” Haley said. “Reese is going to score any second now. Look—there he goes!”

Zach had the ball again. Reese sprinted down the field toward the goal, trying to dodge Old Tappan's defenders so that he could get open for a pass. He darted left and right, but the field was slippery. An Old Tappan player blocked him and Reese fell face-first in the mud.

“Foul! Illegal pushing!” Haley shouted, but the ref didn't call it.

“That was totally illegal,” Sasha said. “They can't let them get away with that!”

Whitney opened her clear pink bubble umbrella. “Can we go now?”

Haley and Sasha ignored her. Reese got to his feet and wiped the mud from his face. He favored his right leg but shook off any help.

“He's limping,” Haley said. “It looks like he hurt his left ankle.”

The coach ran onto the field to talk to Reese, but Reese kept shaking his head as if to say “I'm all right, I'm fine.” He stayed in the game. The ref blew the whistle and play resumed. Reese jogged down the field, but not at his usual speed.

“He shouldn't be playing on that ankle,” Sasha said. “Look at him—he's not himself. He can barely run.”

Haley watched Reese with concern. It was so typical of him to power through a game this way, to try to be a hero. She admired this quality in him and found it annoying at the same time. Of course it was admirable to put the team first, above your own health. But sometimes, Haley thought, it was a kind of vanity. In the end, self-sacrifice didn't always help the team. It only helped the self-sacrificer feel good about himself.

Someone passed the ball to Reese, and he dribbled down the field. But in his injured state, an Old Tappan player was able to swipe the ball from him easily. The Hillsdale crowd screamed as the Old Tappan forward drilled toward the goal. Haley glanced at the clock—ten seconds left.

“No! No! No!” Sasha yelled. “Get it! Get it! Get it!”

The Old Tappan player smacked the ball at Hillsdale's goalie. It whizzed past the goalie's fingertips into the goal. The buzzer sounded the end of the game. A collective groan rose from the soggy crowd.

Old Tappan won, 2–1.

“That sucks,” Whitney said. “Now can we go? My hair is frizzing beyond belief.”

“Sure, we can go now,” Sasha said.

The Old Tappan boys yelped and jumped all over each other like puppies, while the Hillsdale boys hung their heads and filed off the field. “Good season, guys,” Haley called to them, even though she knew it was useless to try to cheer them up. Reese looked up and threw her a weak smile. He was limping more dramatically now, and Zach was blinking away tears of disappointment.

“I guess boys do cry.” Haley turned to see Coco stepping out of a sleek black SUV and sneering at the losing team. A beefy man in a dark suit protected her from the rain with a large navy umbrella. Spencer followed her out of the car, flanked by two more goons.

“Three security guards plus a driver for just the two of them,” Haley muttered. “Mrs. Eton certainly wants to keep an eye on her son.”

Sasha and Whitney snickered in agreement. Spencer Eton was well known about Hillsdale as something of a ne'er-do-well. To put it mildly.

Coco linked arms with Spencer as she mocked the losing team. “I guess it's a good thing we missed the game. Doesn't look like things turned out too well.”

“I told you, soccer's a bore,” Spencer said. “Unless you've got money riding on the outcome. And I knew better than to bet on these losers. The girls are another story.”

He grinned at Haley, Sasha and Whitney, who were descending the bleachers and heading for Sasha's car. Coco stifled a gasp, shocked and annoyed to see the three of them—especially her old shadow, Whitney, and her old sidekick, Sasha—together without her. It just wasn't right.

“Hello, Haley,” Coco said, blatantly ignoring her two former best friends. “You're slumming again, I see.”

“You too,” Haley said.

“Ha-ha.” Clearly Coco thought it was impossible to be slumming in a chauffeured black SUV, attended by bodyguards, no matter who you were with. “What are you doing now, Haley?”

“The usual,” Haley replied. Which actually meant going home and doing homework.

“We're headed over to the governor's mansion,” Coco said. “Mrs. Eton wants my opinion on renovations—everything has to be perfect for the inauguration in January, you know. Haley, you should totally come over for a tour sometime—shouldn't she, Spence? It's so gorgeous, it makes the country club look like a bus depot. And I can tell you the whole history of the house and point out all the architectural details. You won't believe the lintels and the balustrades.”

“The what?” Haley said. She had no idea what Coco was talking about—and she had a feeling Coco didn't entirely either.

Coco pretended to laugh. “You're so funny, Haley. Anyway, you should come over to my place this weekend. My parents are out of town.”

Haley had to admit that the warm, dry SUV looked inviting, and it would be fun to see the governor's mansion at some point. Friendship with Coco always had its perks. There was a reason she was feared and revered at Hillsdale High. Coco had a certain magnetic power that sucked you in and, as soon as she was ready, spit you back out.

Haley wasn't sure if hanging out at Coco's house this weekend was the best idea, even with her parents out of town. But before she could give an answer, her attention was drawn to the roar of a rusty old engine. Across the parking lot, she spotted Devon McKnight's beat-up convertible—top down, in spite of the rain. He took a speed bump at thirty miles an hour and caught air. Someone with extremely blond hair sat beside him in the passenger seat. Haley could tell it was a girl, but from that distance, she couldn't make out who it was.

“Ugh, that's so
Dukes of Hazzard
trashy,” Coco sniffed.

“Devon should drive more carefully,” Whitney said. “Especially when it's raining.”

“Maybe he's driving that way
because
it's raining,” Haley suggested. “I think that convertible top doesn't always work.”

“And how would
you
know
that
?” Coco demanded.

Luckily, Sasha changed the subject. “Who was that girl with him?” she asked.

Haley wondered the same thing. She had thought—and kind of hoped—that Devon still had his long-standing crush on her. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was on to the next thing.

The rain came down harder. Whitney stamped her foot. “I'm getting out of this muck. Let's go, Sasha. You coming, Haley?”

“Um, sure,” Haley said.

“So, see you this weekend, Haley?” Coco asked.

Coco's got nerve, singling out Haley this way and ignoring her former BFFs. But sometimes Haley likes being singled out. Does she want to find out what Coco and Spencer will get up to this weekend while the De Clerq parents are out of town? While parents are away, the kids will play. . . .

But what about Reese? A sprained ankle usually isn't serious—but is that all this was? Just how hurt is he? And does he need Haley's help and tender loving care? Or at least her support? If she doesn't go to the locker room to check on him, what will he think? That she doesn't care? On the other hand, if she does go, maybe he'll put on his brave-soldier act and pretend nothing's wrong. It might be the nicest thing she could do for him—or it might lead nowhere. With Reese, you never know.

And who's Devon's mystery chick? Inquiring minds want to know—but does Haley? He sure seemed to be into Haley, in his own shy, commitment-averse way. But maybe he's just not that into her anymore. Or it could be nothing. The blonde he was speeding away with could be just a friend, right? Right?! If Haley lets Devon slip through her fingers now, she may never get him back.

So what should Haley do with the rest of this rainy day? Should she follow Coco's (mis)lead and mingle with the rich and powerful? If you think she shouldn't pass up this chance to see her government at work (and play), go to (
RIVALRIES RESUMED
).

Maybe you think Coco's getting way too wrapped up in being First Girlfriend, and Haley should avoid getting pulled into her sticky web of schemes. Sasha and Whitney are nicer people, right? If you think Haley should stick with them, turn to (
SISTERLY LOVE
).

Or perhaps Haley shouldn't focus on the girls so much—what about the boys? The girls can wait for a little while. Besides, Reese is hurt! What kind of neighbor—or more—would Haley be if she didn't make sure he was all right? If you think the right thing to do is check on Reese and his sore ankle, turn to
OUT OF COMMISSION
.

And then there's Devon. If you think Haley has got to know who the blonde riding shotgun with him was—and she's got to know now—send her to (
BLOND AMBITION
).

Haley's a lucky girl. She's got lots of opportunities at her fingertips. The trouble is, choosing one eliminates the others—no girl gets to have everything.

BULLYHORN

A bullhorn isn't always the best way to get a message across.

“W
hat's taking him so long?” Annie asked.

She and Haley were waiting in the school parking lot for Alex Martin to emerge from the building. Armed with bullhorns and signs, they planned to stop his heinous Global Warming Is a Myth club before it could start. Students milled about in the parking lot and the courtyard and flowed out of the school in a steady stream, providing a good audience.

“He's probably having an after-school snack,” Haley said. “Endangered hawk eggs washed down with panda blood.”

“Someone's coming.” Annie grabbed Haley's arm. “Bullhorns in hectoring position!”

Haley poised hers near her mouth as Alex walked out of the school building, backpack over his shoulder, wiping something red from his mouth. It was probably just cranberry juice, but to Haley it might as well have been panda blood. Or something worse.

“It's him!” Annie cried. “Go!”

“Stop GWIM!” Haley and Annie shouted through their megaphones. “Global warming is not a myth!”

“Global warming is a fact!” Haley cried. “Fact: The polar ice caps are melting at an unprecedented rate! Fact: The sea level is rising! Fact: Residents of more than one Pacific island have already been forced to relocate due to rising sea levels! Fact . . .”

As Haley ranted, a small crowd gathered. Alex stood on the school steps, listening for a few seconds and grinning in an infuriatingly smug way. Then he disappeared inside the school building.

“Where did he go?” Annie asked. “Do you think he's given up already?”

“Probably,” Haley said. “Wow, it's amazing how powerful one of those things can be.” She lifted the megaphone to her lips and shouted to the crowd, “Look—he's already beaten! Alex Martin's anti-environment club has no chance against the facts!”

“Not so fast.” Alex reappeared on the steps, this time with a bullhorn of his own. An even bigger, more powerful bullhorn.

“He's armed!” Annie cried. “Where did he get that thing?”

“He was ready for us,” Haley whispered, stunned.

“Shouting won't make GWIM go away!” Alex roared through his bullhorn. “I suggest you check your so-called facts. Just because someone posted something on a Web site for tree-hugging patsies doesn't make it true. Do your homework! This glacial melting has happened before—it's all part of the natural cycle of the planet. Human consumption and carbon emissions have nothing to do with it.”

“You're the one reading lunatic Web sites,” Haley shouted back. “Why don't
you
do
your
homework? The scientists of the world—respectable scientists, that is—are on my side, not yours!”

“You mean anti-American scientists,” Alex said, and a few members of the crowd clapped. “Remember how cold it was last winter? What about the cool, rainy summer we just had? That doesn't feel like global warming to me!” More applause and cheering as the crowd drifted toward Alex and away from Haley. She had to get them back.

“This is a worldwide problem, not an American one,” she said. “We're all affected. Now is the time to face the truth, stop wasting our resources and work together as a international coalition!”

“Yeah!” A few people in the crowd clapped for Haley. But Alex wasn't finished yet.

“Trying to fix global warming is impossible,” Alex said. “And it will hurt our economy. Workers will lose their jobs. People like you and me will lose their houses. Think of it! Is it more important to save a bird species or a family? What if it was your family—which would you choose?”

“My family!” a boy shouted. “Global warming is a myth!”

Several other onlookers joined in the chant, and soon Alex was leading the crowd in a chorus of “Global warming is a myth! Global warming is a myth!”

“No it's not! No it's not!” Haley and Annie yelled, straining their voices to be heard over the crowd. The girls had their supporters, but a lot of people had drifted over to Alex's cause and were laughing and chanting along with him.

“Don't let these doomsayers tell us what to do!” Alex called out. “Join my club! Join GWIM! Together we can drown out the negative Nellies who just want to keep us from living the good life!”

“Hurray!” most of the kids shouted.

“Boo!” shouted Haley and Annie and their few straggling supporters.

What happened? Haley's pro-environment demonstration devolved into a shouting match. Not only did their point get lost in the uproar, but they also lost supporters to Alex's group. And any chance of open discussion—which could have more effectively changed people's minds—has been demolished. GWIM has more supporters than ever. The biggest loser here: the environment, Annie's Planet Please club and Haley. Next time, she should try a little finesse if she wants to sway the hearts and minds of her schoolmates. If there is a next time.

Go back to
GOODNESS GRACIOUS
.