by Lari Smythe
Chapter 6
Coach came by my workstation toward the end of class on Monday. "You must be real proud," he said.
I nodded.
"You plan on coming to all the games, home and away?"
"Yes, of course."
"Could I ask you to do something as a personal favor, and for the team?"
"I suppose," I said, remembering the last time I unknowingly agreed to one of his favors.
"Well, after last weeks game, we're going to have a target on our backs for the remainder of the season. We're the team that everyone is going to be ready for—put in that little extra effort. I was wondering if you would mind standing down by the gate so as the team takes the field you could slap each one of the boy's helmet? It'd be kind of like you did at the pep rally, but faster, more energizing."
"So I just have to stand there and hold my hand out, right?"
"Then you'll do it?"
"For you Coach, anything."
"You still driving that sweet Malibu? A 66 isn't it?"
"Yep, a 66. It was my brother's idea, but it's a nice car."
"Nice, you kiddin'? I had one when I was in school—really loved that car." The fondness for his old car shown in his expression. The bell rang and he looked up to address the entire class. "Okay, don't forget the homework and we have a quiz tomorrow on basic HTML code."
"You're welcome to drive it sometime, Coach," I said as I logged off and gathered my things.
"Careful, I just might take you up on it."
"I'm serious, anytime. Did you ever figure out who changed my computer logon settings?"
Coach scratched his head. "You know, the kids these days are pretty sharp when it comes to computers, but there are always traces left behind, almost like fingerprints."
"Well I'm glad you figured it out."
"Truth is, I didn't. I can't figure it—I'm pretty good at this stuff, but I couldn't find a trace, not one—even called in a colleague from the school board computer support staff to have a look and best he could tell, your account was hacked from outside the school."
"Seriously?"
"Now don't get your britches in a bunch—oh, excuse me, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"Not a problem." I winked.
"Well, I don't want you to worry. The computer support folks down at the Board of Education are looking into it."
"You'll tell me what they find?"
"You bet, and don't worry that pretty little head of yours over it. I'm sure it was just some random hacker playing around."
"You won't say anything to Jason?" I asked.
"No, this is just between us although I think Ms. Moore is going to want to send a letter home to your folks explaining the situation and the steps we're taking to provide a safe environment for our students."
"That's not really necessary. I better get going, I don't want to be late for Calculus."
"Calculus? Whew, you go girl."
I headed out into the hallway and an anxious Jason.
"Problem?"
"No, Coach just asked me to do something for the team."
"Cool, what?"
"He wants me to stand at the gate with my hand out so you guys can run past and bump your helmet's against my hand as you take the field—for luck he said."
"Awesome, that ought to fire the guys up."
"That's what he was saying. He said everyone is going to be extra prepared for you now, because of Friday's victory."
"You mean shellacking, but he's right, we're going to be the team to beat."
"We better hurry," I said.
We ran down to the corner, and then split up to go to our individual classes. I got into Calculus just as the bell finished. Mr. Mathews looked a little annoyed, but I think he liked me and didn't say anything.
My thoughts drifted back to what Coach said as Mr. Mathews went over some problems that I understood. I had only considered that what had happened with my computer was either Dillon—although I doubted he was smart enough—Derrick certainly wasn't—or someone else in school. But now, as I thought about it, there was another possibility. It seemed extremely unlikely—Cathy would have warned me, but I couldn't rely entirely on Cathy.
"Izzy?"
"Yes," I looked up to an empty classroom.
"The lunch bell rang," Mr. Mathews said, "Do you have a question on one of the problems?"
I got up from my desk. "No, I understand these."
"Well, I'll see you after lunch."
Jason was waiting outside the door and immediately picked up on my anxiety. "What's up?"
"Nothin'."
"Seriously, I know you better than that."
I stroked his bristly cheek. "I'm fine, just wondering how your mom is going to take me being involved in your pregame ritual. I didn't think of it when I agreed."
"You shouldn't let her get to you like that."
"You didn't argue with her when you got home Saturday, did you?"
"No, I promised you I wouldn't, besides, I can't think of anything else to say. I guess she's just going to have to come around to this on her own, unless?"
"I can't, Jason, I just don't feel right talking to your mom like that."
He put his hands up like he was surrendering. "Okay, just sayin', might help."
We joined Cathy and Alex at our table—no Matt or Lisa this time although they did stop to say, hey—and talk about the game and regular school stuff. I couldn't help it, and kept looking over to Cathy expecting some kind of indication she wanted to talk, but nothing. Toward the end of lunch, Jason and Alex went over to talk to some of the other boys from the team.
Cathy shrugged. "What?"
"I just wondered if anything changed with your visions."
"No." She scooted closer. "Why? Did something happen?"
"I'm not exactly sure." I leaned closer. Last week someone put a picture of a sultry Emo girl on my computer. I thought it was just Dillon or one of his friends, but Coach told me today that it came from outside the school."
"You don't mean Emo like in what we wear, more like what you are?"
I nodded. "I mean maybe it's nothing, but—"
"What are you two whispering about?" Alex said, walking up behind us.
Cathy spun around abruptly. "It's just girl stuff, okay?"
Sure, sure." Alex backed away as Jason walked up.
"About time for the bell," Jason said. "Shall we?" He offered me his arm.
I pulled up, and the four of us walked to the door.
Once we were in the hall, outside the cafeteria, Alex turned to me. "Did you notice?"
"Notice?" I looked to Jason for some clue as to what Alex meant.
"No rude comments," Alex explained, "no whispers, no stares or bumping you around."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, there wasn't any of that." I said.
"Coach was right," Alex said."
"Coach is always right," Jason concluded giving me a heart felt squeeze. "Well, I guess it's that time. See you ladies in Art." He leaned down and kissed me and then we all headed toward our classes.
