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The Perfect Star

Page 12

by Rob Buyea


  The first loser snuck up and yanked Scott’s sweatpants and underwear down to the ground. Scott dropped the towels and whipped his pants back up, but not before loser number two aimed his flashlight on Scott’s privates and loser number three snapped a picture. Scott was a late bloomer, so he only had peach fuzz down there. That was all it took.

  “That’s not funny,” Scott growled.

  The group of them roared with laughter.

  “What’s your name, crybaby? Peachy?” the ringleader teased.

  His followers laughed harder. This might sound weird, but all I could think of was my brother’s old friend, that goon Chris, who’d bullied me. And that made me miss Mark.

  “Stonebreaker,” Scott said.

  Who? I thought.

  Scott looked at me with wide eyes, and then those jerks yanked his sweats and underwear down again. When he bent over to grab them this time, they shoved him from behind. Scott probably would’ve fallen into the urinal if I hadn’t caught him first. Those idiots thought it was hilarious, but Scott sure didn’t—and neither did I.

  “That’s enough,” I said. “Get out of our way.”

  “Who’re you,” the ringleader said, “his boyfriend?”

  More laughing.

  “You think you’re tough because you outnumber us, but you don’t scare me. I’ve dealt with much worse than you.” And that was the truth—all of it. I stepped forward, closing the space between Ringleader and me. I didn’t care that he had a beard and big arms. He knew I wasn’t messing around. I wished Mark was with me, but I was on my own—unless you counted Scott.

  “Don’t make us come back with our friends,” Scott warned them.

  I almost smiled. The kid had guts. You could count on him to have your back. I know this might sound crazy, but that was when I knew he was going to catch that pass when we needed it. Scott might’ve been a wimp, but he had courage—way more than me.

  “Ooo,” Ringleader teased. “We’re scared, Peachy. You better take your boyfriend and get out of here before we dunk you in the toilet.”

  Ringleader talked tough, but he stepped aside because that’s all he was—talk. I grabbed Scott’s phone and got us out of there.

  “I need to pee,” Scott said when we were walking away.

  “You can go in the woods.” I pointed to a spot, and he jogged off.

  I stomped into our cabin, and wouldn’t you know it, who was in there—Mark. “What’re you doing in here?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to, but I was still heated from the confrontation.

  Not a word.

  “Could’ve used your help,” I said.

  Still nothing.

  “We had a run-in with some kids from that other school. Bunch of losers.”

  He shrugged.

  “They pantsed Scott and took a picture of his junk. We almost got into a fight.”

  He looked at me. “Wow. You mean you’re worried about someone other than Natalie? That’s a first.”

  His words stung. “What did you say?” I was still on edge from the bathroom.

  “You heard me. That girl is the only thing you care about.”

  That wasn’t true—even though it maybe seemed that way. “You’re just jealous,” I said.

  “Pfft. Dude, you’re wrong. I’m not jealous.”

  “Oh yeah? What are you, then?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “What are you, then?” I yelled.

  “Hurt!” he shouted. “I’m hurt. And I’m not talking about my ribs. Friends don’t take everyone to the beach except the person who’s been their best friend for all their life.”

  “That wasn’t what it sounds like,” I said, trying to defend myself. But he wasn’t done.

  “Best friends don’t ditch each other for a day at the beach, or at school, or after practice—or for a girl. And best friends don’t miss blocks on purpose and watch their buddy get creamed.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. At least not the last part. And I didn’t mean what happened next. He was getting too close, invading my space, and he had me upset, and the bathroom bullies…I wasn’t thinking. I shoved him—hard.

  He staggered backward, clutching his side. “You’re a jerk,” he growled. Then, all at once, he came at me. I readied myself, expecting him to shove me back, but instead he threw a right hook that drilled me under the eye and knocked me to the ground.

  “Guys!” Scott yelled, running into the cabin. “Guys! What’re you doing? Stop!” He ran and kneeled over me, shielding me from Mark.

  I held my cheek, staring up at my best friend—former best friend.

  “Don’t worry,” Mark snapped. “Your girlfriend will kiss it and make it all better.” He turned and stormed out of the cabin.

  The camp thing turned out to be all right. I was bummed about missing football practice, but the good news was that it was our bye week, so we didn’t have a game to worry about, and me and Scott found plenty of time to work on his catching when he wasn’t doing all that documentary stuff. I didn’t think he’d ever be ready for his secret-weapon play, but I wasn’t telling him that. Stats Man was determined if nothing else. He had us throwing before breakfast, in between our activities, and after dinner. That’s why it was weird when I found myself waiting for him on our third night. Scott was never late when it came to football. Where was he?

  I was tossing my ball up in the air and catching it to kill time while I waited. I figured I’d give him a few more minutes before going to track him down. But then a funny thing happened. Instead of Scott showing up, it was Mark who came walking out to the field. I woulda started throwing with him, but his ribs still weren’t a hundred percent. Man, we needed him back—and I didn’t even know about Stonebreaker yet.

  “Yo, did you see Scott?” I asked him.

  “I think he’s back in the cabin.”

  “Doing what?”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s Scott. Who knows?” He plopped down on one of the benches.

  I was no expert at reading body language like Kurtsman, but the way he kept opening and closing his hand and avoiding my eyes told me that something had happened. Or maybe it was just my gut telling me. Whatever it was, I decided it was time to step up and be a leader. A true leader keeps his team together on and off the field, in the huddle and in the locker room. We needed Mark back, but we needed Trevor and Mark back together more. I walked over and sat next to him. Then I put it on the line. No beating around the bush. Woods woulda been proud of me.

  “Mark, what’s going on with you and Trevor?”

  He turned away, but I could see his jaw shaking. He had a lot bottled up. I thought about saying more but decided against it. Sometimes you’ve got to give a play a chance to develop before you go running full steam ahead. So I waited, and then the hole opened up.

  “It’s Natalie,” Mark croaked. “She’s messed everything up. She’s all he cares about.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “Trevor’s just as upset as you.”

  “Sure doesn’t seem it,” he snapped. “Why’d he take her and everyone else to the beach and not me, then? He goes with her everywhere, before school, after practice. He doesn’t give a crap about me. That’s why he missed that block.”

  Talk about misunderstandings. This was like what had happened with me and Randi last year. “Okay, listen,” I said. “Here’s what happened with the beach.” I explained how it all went down. How Scott had invited himself and the rest of us and Trevor hadn’t planned it that way. And I told Mark that I didn’t know what had happened on that play, but I did know that Trevor hadn’t missed his block on purpose. And I told him if Trevor and him didn’t take care of this soon, they were gonna have Kurtsman reaming them both out, ’cause Randi had told me so. “Kurtsman doesn’t want to break you and Trevor up. She wants you to fix things
. You guys are being stupid,” I said.

  He shrugged.

  “You are.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish we’d talked sooner, because I just got in a fight with Trevor.”

  “What?”

  “I punched him.”

  That explained his hand. “What the heck happened?”

  I didn’t know what to say after he got done telling me the story, but that was okay ’cause the play was still developing. Scott and Trevor came walking out to the field next. Mark got to his feet when he saw them approaching. So did I—just in case.

  The four of us stood there. And then things broke open and the play took off.

  “Sorry, bro,” Trevor said.

  “Me too,” Mark mumbled.

  “I deserved that punch. And I’m really sorry I missed that block, but I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I know,” Mark said. “Just don’t do it again.”

  “And don’t do it when the time comes for my secret-weapon play,” Scott added.

  We laughed.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got your backs,” Trevor promised.

  “So do I,” Mark said.

  “We cool?” Trevor asked.

  “We’re cool,” Mark said.

  They locked hands in a dude handshake and pulled each other into a guy hug.

  Scott did a fist pump. “Finally!” he cried. “Now sit down. It’s time I tell you guys about Stonebreaker.”

  Gav and the rest of the guys were already on the field when we got out there. I wasn’t sure what they were doing, but it looked like Scott was holding a powwow. I giggled at the sight.

  When Scott heard us approaching, he stopped and turned around. “Oh, I forgot!” he squealed. “Tonight’s activity is stargazing. Yay!”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Beard said. “Let’s gather in the middle of the field.”

  Scott ran to the middle. His talk with the guys was over now, but Gav and Trevor and Mark still stayed on the bench.

  “No way,” Natalie whispered. “Do you think Scott just laid down the law and whipped those two back into shape?”

  She was referring to Trevor and Mark. They were laughing and joking—like old times. “I don’t know,” I said. “Scott can be unpredictable, and that’s putting it mildly.”

  Natalie chuckled. “All I can say is thank goodness for whatever happened. Best friends work much better together than apart.”

  I’d been thinking the same thing, but not about those two. Maybe that was why her saying it rattled me.

  “Find a spot and spread your blankets out,” Mr. Beard said. “Then lie down on your backs, look up, and soak in the show.”

  I didn’t have my blanket, and neither did the guys, because we’d all come out to the field early, but lucky for us, Randi and Natalie had great big ones and they let us share. We squeezed together like sardines and did what Mr. Beard had said. We started soaking in that sky.

  It was still turning dark, so not all of the stars were out yet, but that was okay because not all the stargazers were there yet, either. Natalie took that opportunity to grab my phone and download my videos from the day. She got done right before Mr. and Mrs. Magenta showed up, surprising us.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Magenta, what’re you doing here?” I squealed.

  “Thought I’d check on my players,” Mrs. Magenta said, “and I also happen to love stargazing.”

  “If it’s okay with you, we thought we’d join you for this activity,” Mr. Magenta said.

  “The more the merrier when it comes to stargazing,” I said.

  Mrs. Magenta smiled, but the way she was holding her belly made me wonder if she had an upset stomach again. But why would she be nervous? I held my breath and didn’t say anything because I saw Mr. Magenta rubbing his hand on her tummy after they lay down, so I knew he was being a good husband and taking care of her.

  It was close to dark now, so more stars had shown up. And a few minutes later there were more. And then more. And still more. Out there in the country, in that wide-open field where no other lights were bothering us, the sky went on and on and on—like it did at the beach.

  “There’s the Big Dipper,” I said. “And the Little Dipper, too.” I pointed.

  “It’s beautiful,” Randi whispered.

  “It sure is,” Gavin said.

  “What do you think about when you look up there?” Natalie asked the group.

  I had my answer right away. “That I want to go up there,” I said.

  “You mean be an astronaut?” Natalie asked.

  “Yup. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I read the book Mrs. Woods gave me.”

  “What book?”

  “Chasing Space. It’s the autobiography of Leland Melvin, a football player who became an astronaut for NASA. Leland says being an astronaut is a lot about teamwork and problem-solving, and I’m really good at those things and I’m a football player. So I could probably be an astronaut. It sounds fun—and they even have astronaut ice cream!”

  “Scott, I wouldn’t say this to just anyone, but you should go for it,” Gavin said. “Space is about the only place I can think of that might be big enough for all of your energy and spirit.”

  “Amen to that,” Trevor said.

  “Indeed,” Natalie agreed.

  “It’s either that or open a bake shop,” I said.

  They laughed.

  “It’s funny, but I could see you doing that, too,” Gavin said.

  “Just bring the cookies and cupcakes with you into space,” Mark suggested. “You can even make it à la mode with your astronaut ice cream.”

  There was more laughing, but I thought that was a good idea.

  “Who else?” Natalie asked. “What do you think about when you look up there?”

  “I wonder if the stars foretell my destiny,” Randi said.

  “Maybe,” Mrs. Magenta replied, “but remember, you can connect the dots and draw the picture any way you want. You’re the artist. It’s up to you.”

  Randi nodded. I liked that, too. Maybe I could find a picture of me catching that pass.

  “How about it, Coach Magenta?” Gavin said. “What do you think about?”

  “I search for the perfect star,” she said. “The one that speaks to me. And when I find it, I think of my brother, Eric, and the baby that Mr. Magenta and I lost. But it’s not sad, because when I find that star shining ever so brightly, twinkling, and looking down on me, I know it’s them—and they’re smiling.”

  We grew quiet after that because what Mrs. Magenta had said was something that made you think and feel. I liked her idea. That wouldn’t be the last time I thought about it.

  Stargazing turned out to be some pretty deep stuff. You didn’t just shrug and move on after hearing what Mrs. Magenta had to say. I liked what she’d said about finding the perfect star. It was a happy-sad thought.

  After talking for a while, we grew quiet and just lay there. The sky was incredible that night. There must have been a billion stars above us. It was nice to slow down and forget your worries and appreciate the natural beauty of our world. Told you it was deep. It was a unique experience, so I was surprised when Natalie brought it to an early end for the two of us.

  “Randi, will you accompany me to the bathroom?” she asked.

  “Now?” I questioned.

  “Yes, now. This can’t wait.”

  “Where’re you going?” Scott wanted to know when we got up.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Randi and I have some business to attend to,” Natalie announced.

  Gav looked at me, and I shrugged. I sure didn’t know what she was referring to.

  “What kind of business?” Scott asked.

  “Girl stuff,” Natalie answered.

  That seemed to do the trick, becau
se Scott zipped it and no one else said anything. That was good because Natalie wasn’t waiting either way. When I glanced back at her, I saw that she was already halfway across the field—and she wasn’t slowing down. I was practically running, trying to catch her, and I wasn’t supposed to be running. Something told me this was more than a trip to the bathrooms.

  “Where are we going?” I called out to her.

  No answer. She had her nose to the ground. Whatever it was, she meant business.

  “Natalie, will you please wait?” I pleaded. “I can’t go that fast.”

  Finally she stopped.

  “Where are we going?” I asked again after catching up to her.

  “Randi, sometimes a woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do.”

  I started to say something, but stopped when I heard voices approaching. It was a group of boys from that other school.

  “Hey, look,” the first guy said to his buddies. “These fine young ladies must be lost. Should we show them the way?”

  His group laughed at his macho-man routine. What a jerk, I thought. And his beard was dumb, too.

  “We’re not lost,” Natalie said, unfazed. “In fact, we were looking for you.”

  “Sister, there’s a long line of girls looking to get with me.”

  Uh oh, I thought. This guy doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He’s toast.

  “Let me make this as simple as possible so your pea brain can understand it,” Natalie said. “Number one: I’m not your sister; and number two: I’m most certainly not among the girls looking to get with you, nor is my friend—not in your wildest dreams. Rather, we’re here on a matter of business.”

  “Business? What kind of business?”

  “Do you happen to know what blackmail is?”

  “Blackmail? Yeah, I know what that is.”

  “Okay. Explain it, then,” Natalie challenged.

 

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