The Perfect Star

by Rob Buyea

  “But if I drop the pass, I’m not sure I’ll get another chance.”

  “Maybe not on the football field, but by going for it, you’re going to be ready for even bigger and more important things later on.”

  “Like what?”

  “That, I can’t predict, but I know this: Whatever it is that life has in store for Scott Mason, it’s going to be great.”

  “Like going into space?”

  “Like going into space,” he said.

  I smiled.

  “You should get back to class now.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mr. Allen. It’s been nice visiting with you.”

  “You too, Scott. Good luck to you and the team. And keep your eye on the ball.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I sped away. I wasn’t in a hurry to get to Mrs. Carson’s boring class, but I was too worked up about a pep rally to even think about slowing down. We had to win this weekend—for cotton candy!

  I blew it. I finally had things back the way they were supposed to be with Mark, and then I went and screwed it up with Natalie. Why did I have to say that about not blowing her kiss? Now she was acting all weird, pretending to be busy after school so that she could avoid me.

  It wasn’t until Scott came flying into the locker room and started rattling off about his meeting with Mr. Allen that I stopped to consider that maybe Natalie was telling me the truth. Stats Man was all jazzed about some pep rally and cotton candy that Mr. Allen had promised we’d have before our Thanksgiving rivalry if we won our final regular-season game, but I was still stuck on the fact that he and Mr. Allen had had a meeting.

  “Wait, you met with Mr. Allen?” I asked. “Why?”

  “He wanted to check in with me to see how things were going, and then he told me about the pep rally—and he promised cotton candy! Can you believe it?”

  Scott couldn’t stop talking about the pep rally, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Natalie. She must’ve said something to Mr. Allen, because why else would he want to check on Scott? That was cool of her, but that still only gave her an alibi for one day—not every afternoon.

  I’d blown it. Me and my big mouth. I’d had to say something about a kiss. Idiot. How was I supposed to fix this mess? Getting in a fistfight with Mark was the thing that’d helped get us talking again, but I didn’t think slugging my girlfriend was the way to go.

  So what, then?

  Scott couldn’t have been more excited if our locker room had turned into a doughnut shop. The kid was going a mile a minute about Mr. Allen’s pep rally idea and cotton candy and snow cones and music and games and, and, and—

  “Whoa. Slow down, wild man,” I said. “We’ve got to win this weekend first. Otherwise, none of that stuff happens, right?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “but it’s going to be awesome.”

  “This weekend first,” I reminded him. “Get ready and get out to the field. We need to work on your secret-weapon play.”

  Coach Magenta was right. All the greats talked about taking it one game at a time. It was hard, but it was what you had to do, or else you were bound to slip up. If I got to thinking about Stonebreaker and our big matchup, I started getting just as excited as Scott—but it wasn’t our next opponent or Stonebreaker that was my main concern right now. It was Coach and his health.

  Everybody had their reasons for wanting to win. It coulda been for Coach Magenta, it coulda been just ’cause you hate losing, it coulda been for Scott or yourself or your teammates. All good reasons, but the person I was playing for was Coach. Us winning was keeping him going. Us winning was helping him get better. That might sound crazy, but it was the truth. And don’t ask me how I knew it. I just did. If you’da helped him into his chair, felt his grip on your arm, and had him look hard and deep into your eyes, you’d understand too. Trust me.

  NATALIE KURTSMAN

  ASPIRING LAWYER

  Kurtsman Law Offices

  BRIEF #14

  November: Business Meeting #1

  I was no stranger to surprising letters, having received several important ones containing pertinent information from Lake View Middle School over the previous two years, but this handwritten note from Mr. Holmes was in a category all its own—and it was only four words. I’ll talk to you.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and yet it was only a single sentence. I didn’t know what to do. Mr. Holmes’s note spurred all sorts of questions. What if the man I had grown to despise the previous year wasn’t all bad? Or was I being gullible? What if Mr. Holmes was trying to lure me in with deception? Clearly he knew a thing or two about deceiving people. But what if he was being honest this time? I felt guilty, angry, and confused—but most of all, I was conflicted. As previously stated, I didn’t know what to do.

  This ongoing dilemma with my conscience was all-consuming. I had to address it—and soon! I’d become so distracted and preoccupied by it that I’d barely talked to Trev, and I even canceled on Randi. I was in no shape to go to the Senior Center on Thursday; Eddie and Agnes would see right through me. When I told Randi I had to cancel, I blamed it on my parents, which was a lie, but it kept her from asking too many questions, and I promised her we’d go on Sunday.

  After several days of getting nowhere, somewhat reluctantly I came to the conclusion that I needed Mother’s help. I prided myself on my independence, but the fact was that I needed Mother if I was going to accomplish anything. Simply put, there were too many rules and regulations when it came to prisons for a kid to do much. Besides, Mother would be sworn to secrecy because of the attorney-client oath. I scheduled a business meeting with her for after school in the conference room at the office.

  “Okay, Natalie, what is this all about?” Mother asked.

  I started explaining, beginning with my wonderings about Mr. Holmes. “Truthfully, my questions first commenced shortly after meeting his youngest son, Robbie,” I said. “The boy is adorable. He and Meggie Davids are two peas in a pod.”

  Mother never interrupted. She sat and listened and let me talk. I told her about the visit that Randi and I had had at the Senior Center and how that had gotten me thinking harder about Mr. Holmes, which had led to me organizing our first trip back to Kids Klub so that I could see Robbie and secretly discuss my plan with him. I confessed to mailing a letter to Mr. Holmes in one of Mother’s business envelopes so that the sheriffs would regard it as lawyer-related material and be more apt to leave it alone. And then I told Mother about my second trip to see Robbie—and the note he’d given me.

  “Here it is,” I said. I slid the paper across the table.

  Mother held my gaze, then put on her glasses and glanced down at it. “You’re always up to something, aren’t you?”

  “I try to be. Something important, anyway.”

  Mother chuckled. “I’d say this qualifies.” She removed her glasses and sighed. “Natalie, you’re special. You’re determined to uphold the law and seek justice, but you’re also full of compassion. That is a rare combination. You strive to understand the whole person—the human being. You want to read all the pages, not just the summary. I’ll warn you, this will likely leave you feeling conflicted many times over, as you see and deal with more and more cases, but don’t give up. Don’t change—not one iota.”

  I swallowed. “Conflicted is exactly how I feel.”

  Mother nodded. “I know.”

  “Does this mean you’ll help me?”

  She reached across the table and grasped my hands. “I’ll try.”

  “I need to go and see Mr. Holmes, but prison policies won’t allow it.”

  Mother sat back. “Clearly, meeting with Mr. Holmes is the next step,” she mused. “I’ve got it. You’ll need to accompany me as my assistant. They can’t deny you then.”

  I smiled. “How about as your partner?”

  “Don
’t push it.”

  There hadn’t been a whole lot for me to look forward to this year, but going to see Eddie and Agnes was always fun, so I was disappointed when Thursday came and Natalie canceled on me. Natalie was the best when it came to delivering the truth, but she was terrible at lying. I didn’t believe for one second that it was her parents’ fault like she’d claimed. There was only one explanation for her canceling last-minute—she was up to something. She tried making it better by rescheduling for Sunday, but I was still skeptical. I wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but I trusted that destiny would reveal her secret soon enough.

  The nice thing about going to the Senior Center on Sunday afternoon was that it wasn’t just Natalie and me going, but Gav and Scott, too. That didn’t necessarily mean we’d see each other, because Coach was usually in his room and not hanging with Eddie and Agnes, but today was different. Everybody was in the TV room when we got there—Coach and Mrs. Woods, Scott’s grandpa, Eddie and Agnes, and Mr. and Mrs. Magenta. Natalie and I were the first to arrive, but Gav and Scott showed up not long after us, during a commercial break.

  “Hey, look what the cat dragged in,” Eddie said. “You boys are just in time to watch our show with us.”

  “Is it football?” Scott asked. “Today’s Sunday.”

  “Football!” Eddie hollered. “Good heavens, no! We’re watching America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

  “I love that show!” Scott exclaimed.

  “How’d it go yesterday?” his grandpa asked. “You boys still undefeated?”

  “We won,” Scott answered, “but it wasn’t easy. It was so cold in Oak Falls that I was peeing icicles after the game.”

  My stomach hurt, we laughed so hard after that comment.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t get frost bite on it,” Eddie teased. “They might’ve had to cut it off.”

  “Ahh!” Scott shrieked, grabbing himself.

  I laughed even harder then. When I finally got myself to stop, I felt like I’d gone through a core workout.

  “Shhh!” Agnes hissed. “Our show’s on.”

  We settled in and got ready to watch—everyone except Gav. His eyes were on Coach, not the TV. Coach seemed okay, but how much was he really present was always the question. He hadn’t said anything so far.

  “Ha! Ha! Ha!” The room burst into laughter. I turned back to the TV and saw a replay of the video that had everyone in stitches. There was a little girl dressed in her mother’s high heels and jewelry with makeup all over her face.

  “And who’re you supposed to be?” the camera person asked.

  “I’m Mommy!” she squealed.

  “You want to be Mommy when you grow up?”

  “I’m going to be a big girl and have a big butt just like Mommy.”

  Oh. My. Goodness. We laughed harder the second time around.

  “Kids say the darnedest things,” Eddie said.

  “But they’re so cute,” Agnes replied. “Melt my heart, they do.”

  “I’ve got one of those at home,” Gav said. “Melting hearts is her superpower.”

  “I’ve got one on the way,” Coach rasped, taking all of us by surprise. Suddenly he was with us.

  “You’ve got what on the way?” Gav asked.

  “A baby,” Coach croaked.

  “Coach, you’re not pregnant!” Scott squawked. “That’s impossible!”

  “I think he means the family has one on the way,” his grandpa explained.

  “Mrs. Woods, you’re pregnant?” Scott screeched. “I didn’t know people that old could have babies.”

  “Ugh! Unbelievable,” Natalie groaned, running out of patience. “Scott, not Mrs. Woods.” She pointed.

  His gaze landed on Mrs. Magenta. She was all smiles, her hand on her belly. “Coach Magenta,” he said.

  She nodded.

  * * *

  —

  The rest of our afternoon was a mix of laughs and celebration. Mrs. Magenta was going to have a baby! She was barely showing, and I only ever saw her with coaching stuff on, so that explained why Natalie and I hadn’t noticed. Apparently Scott had seen her dealing with morning sickness many times but had never put two and two together. He’d thought it was her nerves getting the best of her on game day. Sometimes he was so silly—and clueless.

  I was glad Natalie and I got to spend time with Eddie and Agnes and that we got to see Coach and everyone else. We had fun, but boy, it sure seemed like Natalie’s brain was somewhere else. I just had a feeling—and I could usually trust my feelings, which was something that scared me even more.

  Natalie’s dad gave me a ride home from the center when we were done visiting. I thought it was weird when Natalie got out of the car with me.

  “You don’t need to walk me to the door,” I said.

  “I know, but I need to tell you something.”

  I knew it, I thought. I waited.

  “I won’t be coming to school in the morning, so I need you to be ready to run the broadcast.” She handed me a copy of the script.

  “Why aren’t you coming?”

  “I can’t tell you. I’m bound by law, but I hope to be able to explain soon.”

  We reached the front step, and I stopped and faced her. “Natalie, are you okay? Does this have anything to do with Mr. Holmes?” I’d been concerned that she was going to try contacting Mr. Holmes back before camp, but now she was missing school and claiming to be bound by law and I was suddenly leery again.

  “Yes, I’m okay, but I can’t say anything more, so please stop asking.”

  I sighed. “I’ll take care of the show. Be careful.”

  “Thanks.”

  Before I got into the house and before she reached her dad’s car, Natalie remembered one more thing. “Hey, Randi. You do realize we need to go shopping for baby stuff now?”

  I smiled. It was never boring with Natalie. I loved that about her.

  She waved, and then she climbed into the car and they drove away. Please be careful, I thought.

  The Razzle-Dazzle Show team gathered in the broadcast room Monday morning, but as she’d promised, Natalie was a no-show.

  “Where’s Natalie?” Scott was the first to ask. “We’re supposed to go live in ten minutes.”

  “She must be running late,” Mark said.

  “But she’s never late,” Gav countered.

  “Where is she?” Scott repeated. “Trevor?”

  “I don’t know,” he snapped.

  “We can’t run the show without her,” Scott whined. “Something must’ve happened.”

  Panic was beginning to set in. And confusion. Natalie had known this would happen. That was why she’d warned me. I half smiled. The girl was always two steps ahead of us.

  “Mr. Mason, calm down,” Mrs. Woods said. “Miss Cunningham was about to tell us what’s going on.”

  She must’ve seen that I was the only one not freaking out. Mrs. Woods was another one who always seemed to be ahead of us.

  “Natalie is fine,” I told the group. “She has an appointment this morning.”

  “An appointment!” Scott screeched. “What kind of appointment?”

  “I don’t know, but we can’t worry about that. We’ve got a show to put on the air. Here’s today’s script.” I passed out copies. “I’ll cover Natalie’s position. The rest of you do what you always do. We’ve got this.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation, like the Recruits weren’t sure we could pull this off, but Mrs. Woods jumped in again. “Okay, you heard Miss Cunningham. We’ve got our backup QB calling the plays today. Are you going to fall to pieces or rise to the challenge?”

  “Let’s go!” Scott cheered. “We’ve got a show to save!”

  A little football talk was all he needed. The ball was snapped, and we got cracking. Scott did
his weather segment and ran through the morning announcements, and then I took over and gave a weekend recap, with special emphasis on the guys’ big win.

  “They’re calling it the Snowbowl,” I said. “I’m talking about our football team’s game that took place in the tundra at Oak Falls on Saturday.” (I was making that up, but Scott really liked it.) “With the win, our Warriors have finished the regular season without a blemish on their record, setting the stage for a huge contest on Thanksgiving against an undefeated Titans team from North Lake. The game is already being billed as the Thanksgiving Showdown of the Century and is expected to be the biggest clash in the history of this storied rivalry. To maximize our school spirit and to get us completely psyched, Mr. Allen has decided it’s time for our first-ever Thanksgiving pep rally. Stay tuned for details on that in the days to come. In the meantime, Lake View Middle, pat our players on the back, congratulate them, and wish them good luck. I’m Randi Cunningham. Have a razzle-dazzle day, Warriors.”

  The broadcast ended, and the guys slapped high fives. We’d done it.

  “Randi, you were great!” Scott exclaimed.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  I felt like I’d just finished competing. I was a mix of thrilled and relieved, but there wasn’t any awards ceremony to run off to. Instead we had to get to class. I started gathering my things.

  “Randi, you really don’t know what kind of appointment Natalie had to go to?” Trevor asked before leaving. Mark was with him, and Gav was standing nearby. Scott had already Tasmanian-deviled out the door.

  I sighed. “I really don’t know, but she’s up to something.”

  I wasn’t sure if Trevor liked that answer or not, but he nodded. There wasn’t much else I could say or he could do. “Great show today,” he said. Then he and Mark turned and left.

  Gav had to meet with a teacher, so he was leaving right behind them. “You were the perfect star today, Cunningham,” he said. “I’ll see ya later.”