“It’s stuffed. How am I supposed to make it do anything?”
“ROAR!” yelled one of the clown boys as he grabbed the lion and lunged it at Whitney in one fail swoop. The action caught her of guard and she actually screamed as she stepped backwards, tripped over a desk and fell to the floor. The class, and the circus seniors, erupted in laughter.
“Well, I believe it is clear we have NOT found our next lion tamer,” said the Clown who still held the lion. The class erupted again.
“I believe you are right. Better luck next time!” said the Bearded Lady. She handed Whitney a piece of paper and two Hershey’s kisses before turning to go.
“VAL-A-GRAMSSSSSSSS” they yelled cranking back up the circus music and exiting as quickly as they’d entered.
Whitney returned to her seat rubbing her elbow and her ego.
“That was SO funny!” Jesse said. “Wanna see the video?”
“Nope. I’m good,” Whitney said.
“Who was it from?” Ivy asked.
Whitney turned over the paper they’d given her and found the ‘from’ line blank.
“It doesn’t say. The message says: ‘Just testing your skills.’” Whitney froze as soon as she read it. Leif always said that after he owned her in a drill after practice.
“What does that mean?” Everley asked.
“Jesse, is that from you?” Brynley said.
“Nope. Not that one,” Jesse said.
“I’m going to have to do that again?” Whitney asked nearly in tears. Jesse, Brynley and Everley all nodded. Whitney let her head fall onto her desk.
Her class received four more Val-a-grams and Whitney had a mini heart-attack every time the horrible scream of ‘VAL-A-GRAMMMS’ flooded through the door. Luckily the others were all for other victims, and she found watching them actually was entertaining.
The one bright spot in Val-A-Gram day was Eva and Jasmine both being absent from yearbook. She had a suspicion she’d be getting another circus-a-gram at some point, mainly because Jesse made it pretty obvious he’d expected this morning’s to be from him, so when the Olympic-a-Gram flew into the room Whitney breathed a sigh of relief and sat back to watch the show.
“We have two people who will be going head to head today to earn a spot on this year’s Olympic bobsled team! Can we please have Whitney Volsum and Leif Smyth up front?”
Whitney and Leif both looked at each other. Leif shot her a quick grin before jumping up and trotting to the front without a care in the world. Whitney followed reluctantly. She stood next to him awkwardly, fighting back the urge to punch him in the stomach.
“Could everyone please follow us into the hall for the bobsled race!” announced the goofy senior in charge. Everyone gladly obliged. The hall in this part of the school just happened to go down about five steps right outside of the yearbook room. Half of the hall was stairs, but the other half was a ramp about two people wide making it a perfect bobsled run. Whitney cringed at the realization.
“They are not going to make us roll down that thing, are they?” she asked Leif quietly while the seniors dug two small four-wheeled scooters out of their prop cart.
Leif looked at her. A huge grin filled his face and curiosity illuminated his bright blue eyes. “I think just maybe they are,” he said.
Whitney tried to force a scowl, but the dimple wouldn’t allow it.
The seniors directed Leif and Whitney to each lay down on their stomachs on the scooters. Whitney held onto no hope that this would end well, but when she glanced over at Leif, laying on the scooter next to her, she saw his eyes full of a playful competitive spirit she loved and hers caught fire too.
The whole class gathered throughout the hall and counted down from three together, and they were off. Whitney got a good push and took an early lead, yet poor-sport Leif refused to lose and grabbed her leg propelling himself forward. Unfortunately for both of them, it threw Whitney completely off balance. One minute she was flying down the ramp with a huge grin on her face and the sound of everyone shouting her name filling her ears and the next she was hitting the tile ground at the bottom of the ramp, flying off her scooter and rolling across the hall all intertwined with Leif. When they came to a stop on the opposite side of the hall Whitney opened her eyes to find herself face to face with Leif. They took one look at each other and cracked up laughing.
“I’m not sure we will take either of you this year,” declared the senior bring them back to reality. Leif looked up and quickly climbed to his feet, offering Whitney a hand. As she stood up she grabbed her head, which she now realized was throbbing, a pain made worse by the Kiss-a-Gram crew she spotted across the hall. At some point during the race they’d entered from a different room and Eva now stood, merely feet away, with her arms crossed and her hip popped glaring a hole into Whitney’s soul.
Whitney retreated to class, still rubbing her head. “Who was that one from?” Ivy asked.
“Did you see the glare Eva gave you?” Everley said, ignoring Ivy’s question.
“Yeah,” Whitney said. The horror of Eva’s eyes still singing her insides.
‘Only winners accepted,’ Ivy said reading aloud from the paper she’d ripped from Whitney’s hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
Whitney shrugged her shoulders and took it back. It was another one of the things her and Leif said a lot at work-outs. She’d expected this one to be from Jesse, but apparently not. Ivy continued to watch her inquisitively throughout the period only making the residual nervousness Eva left worse.
In third period she got yet another Val-O-Gram from Leif along with one from Brynley and one from Jesse. None of them were as eventful as the first two and without any of her close friends in biology she didn’t have to try and explain who the mystery one was from.
At lunch they all avoided the rain and gathered at their usual table in the cafeteria. Brynley stressed about night’s basketball game as James reassured her she’d be fine- the standard game day lunch conversation. Whitney picked at her pizza while she watched the sophomores two tables over expressively re-enact their Val-o-Gram.
“Hey,” Ivy said bringing Whitney back to their table. “Did my brother send you those Val-o-Grams?” she asked. Whitney froze. She didn’t want to lie to one of her good friends, but then Eva’s face of furry flashed in her mind.
“I don’t know who sent them,” Whitney said.
“Really?” Ivy pushed again. Her eyes matched Leif’s and that didn’t bode well for Whitney’s ability to lie to them.
“Yeah,” she said. “None of them said.”
“But you think they might be from him?” Ivy asked.
“Maybe,” Whitney said. “Don’t tell anyone though, please.”
Ivy picked at the food on her plate. “Is something going on with you two?” she asked.
“No,” Whitney said. There wasn’t. Unfortunately, she thought.
Ivy stared for a minute longer before going back to her lunch. Whitney wanted to ask if it would be bad if there was something going on, but by the look on Ivy’s face she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
Five more Val-o-Grams arrived during fourth and fifth periods for Whitney. When she got her fifth one from Leif, in last period, Ivy’s knowing look sent Whitney’s stomach into knots. Luckily she hadn’t told the other girls and Brynley was still fighting to try and figure out who the mystery sender was. Whitney prayed Ivy wouldn’t tell Jasmine. Whitney had never been happier to hear the end of day bell and be able to head to the basketball court forgetting all of this Val-o-Gram nonsense.
◆◆◆
The game wasn’t bad, but again her dad let her know how unacceptable ‘not bad’ was during his call she answered on her way home.
“I’ve been putting in extra time after practice every single day, dad,” she said.
“Yes, I’m trying. I’m trying every moment I’m in that gym.”
“Dad we won, I scored 16 points. Why is that so bad?”
“No, I’m not ok
ay with average either. Yes, I get it.”
“Okay. I will. I WILL. See you Friday.” She hung up and closed her eyes as she laid her head back.
“Is Dad coming up???” Mable’s voice scratched at Whitney’s open wounds.
“Yeah, next Friday night for the game. He said to tell you he wants to spend Saturday with us,” Whiteny said without opening her eyes.
“YAY!!!” shouted Mable. Whitney grit her teeth against the nauseating sound.
At home she showered and climbed into bed with a big bowl of ice cream and Netflix before her phone went off alerting her of a new text. She grabbed it from the end table.
Are you mad at me? It was Jesse.
Nope. Should I be? She said. Jesse was such a girl sometimes. It was one of his less attractive traits.
I didn’t think so. You just didn’t say anything about the Val-A-Grams so I thought maybe you were mad.
What was she supposed to say about them, she wondered. Was she supposed to send a thank you card for each one received? She text Brynley:
Jesse thinks I’m mad at him because I didn’t say anything about the Val-A-Grams he sent. What was I supposed to say?
I think he expected you to be excited about them. He put a lot of thought into which ones to get you. Brynley said.
What? Are you being serious? She asked.
Yeah. People kind of consider them like sending a valentine, especially when they’re to the opposite sex.
What? Why didn’t anyone tell me that? So I sent him Val-A-Grams today and he considered it confirmation that I liked him?
I thought you knew that. And yeah, probably. Do you not like him at all? Did you figure out who sent the other ones? Jesse was mad that someone else was showing him up.
I like him as a friend.
Whitney hit send and stared at the screen trying to figure out how to answer the rest. It was all so complicated. She turned back to Jesse.
Sorry. The day was just crazy. Thanks for all the public embarrassment.
She swirled her ice cream in her bowl waiting for his response.
It’s fine and you’re welcome!
Did you figure out who sent the other ones?
PEOPLE! she wanted to yell, this is not a murder mystery. No one died. Let’s drop it!
Nope.
Weird. Well it isn’t surprising that you have a secret admirer, you’re easy to admire.
Whitney decided to leave it. How had this become her life? She wondered, stuffing ice cream into the gaping holes of her life. When did boys become an issue she had to deal with? Who had she become?
Chapter 11
Whitney didn’t talk to Leif until their workout on Monday night.
“Hey,” she started as he walked across the gym with a smile on his face, “Apparently I’m supposed to thank people for sending me Val-O-Grams, so thanks!”
Leif giggled a little.
“You could have been a little more timely with that appreciation,” he said.
“You’re lucky you got any at all. I nearly died, TWICE, because of you. Plus, I don’t even have your number,” Whitney said.
“Yeah, I realized that too. We should change that,” Leif said. He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you and then you’ll have mine.”
Whitney tried to play it cool as she gave him her number and then immediately started running their first drill.
As the week crawled on Whitney began stressing about their upcoming game against the number one team in the league. She’d been playing well, but with her dad coming up for this game she had to be on and they had to win.
“What’s going on?” he asked driving home from workouts Thursday night.
“With what?”
“With the heaviness you’re packing,” he said. Whitney both hated and loved that he’d noticed.
“I’m just stressed about playing North tomorrow,” she said, “it’s a big game.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been on fire. You’re unstoppable out there, they don’t stand a chance.”
“Hopefully,” she said.
“What else?” He said after a few minutes. “You didn’t worry like this for Central last week, and that was a big game too. And I kicked your ass at workouts the night before,” he said playfully.
“It’s just different,” she said.
Leif looked at her, changing his demeanor when he realized she was serious. “Why is it so different?”
“My dad’s coming tomorrow.”
Whitney watched the rain streaming down the window, trying to settle the nerves in her stomach.
“Ah?” he said. “Is this the first game he’s come to?”
“Yeah,” Whitney said.
They’d reached her driveway, but Leif pulled off to the side of the road at the bottom and turned to face her. He wasn’t letting her out of this conversation yet. She stared out the window trying to decide what this meant. Why did he care so much? What was she doing parked on the side of the road with Leif Smyth?
“Whitney,” he said leaning in towards her, “You’re good. You’re really good.” His proximity sent her heart racing.
“But I can always be better,” she said.
“I guess, in the long run. But maybe not right now. You’ve been playing well. Has he not been happy with how you’ve been playing the last couple weeks?” Leif asked.
“He was satisfied with how I played against Central.”
“What?!?! You scored 22 points, had 15 rebounds and shut down that beast on their team. You were amazing. How is that a satisfactory game?”
Whitney just stared for a second.
“You know all my stats?”
“Not all of them,” he said. “It was just a good game. I was impressed,”
“Or you’re a creeper.” Whitney smiled at him.
“You wish I’d creep on you!”
“Not every girl is obsessed with you, you know?” she said.
“Yes they are.”
“Okay,” Whitney said. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will,” he said. His dimple bore into Whitney’s chest turning her heart to mush.
“But seriously, your dad expects better than Central?”
“My dad always expects better. But Central was a good game. The call after Central was good,” she said, and it had been. He’d been happy with her for the first time all season. Although he had also given her a long list of pointers.
“He calls you after every game?” Leif asked
“Yeah. He wants to make sure I have the direction I need to continue improving.”
“Does he understand you’re just a freshman?” Leif asked.
“He doesn’t care. He’s never compared me to players my own age. He’s always expected me to play above my grade level, and honestly I always have, so I get his expectations.”
Leif looked at her like with an acceptance no boy had ever looked at her with before. “You don’t have to accept his expectations.”
“Basketball is all I have. And I want…. I want him to be proud of me.” She said it. Her entire life had formed around that desire living inside of her, but she’d never admitted it. She felt so vulnerable watching the rain roll down the windshield with a path much clearer than her own.
Leif looked at her. He reached his hand up and brushed her cheek gently. “If he isn’t proud of you, he’s a fool,” he said. “And you’ll do great tomorrow. You’re getting better every day.”
Whitney turned slightly and smiled. She loved him. The thought passed casually through her mind, only freezing her after it was gone. It was so complicated, but materialized so easily. The thought caught her breath in her chest. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers against her cheek. What was she doing? It felt so right to be here with him, but she knew it was so wrong. What would people say if they found out? People were going to find out.
“My mom is probably wondering where I am,” she said. Overwhelming feelings of sadness, nervousness and fear floodin
g her.
“Of course,” he said.
When they reached her door he stopped and looked her right in the eyes. “Try not to stress too much,” he said.
“I’ll try. Thanks for the ride,” she yelled hurrying through the rain to the safety of her house.
◆◆◆
Whitney woke on Friday already full of butterflies. She couldn’t get Leif’s words, or his touch, out of her brain. She kept instinctively reaching up and brushing her cheek, only to grow angry when she realized she was doing it. And to top it off, her dad was coming.
The boys played first and Whitney watched with excitement as Leif killed North’s boys’ team. She hoped his success would rub off on her. Eva had watched him with a pining in her eyes. Since their fight they’d stayed broken up, although Ivy reported Eva had begged him to get back together just a few days before. Ivy had been watching Whitney suspiciously ever since Val-O-Grams and dropping pieces of Leif/Eva information more than usual. Whitney wished she could just tell the girls about the work-outs, it was just basketball practice. Yet, she knew they’d freak out, and want to come, and part of her held onto the fact that it wasn’t JUST basketball. Last night had confirmed that. It was becoming more, but could it ever honestly be more, she wondered. Would Leif ever truly be with her, in public? The thought made her shudder it was so unbelievable.
The girls played well and squeaked out a narrow victory in the last minute and a half of the game. Whitney only scored 18 points though and struggled to defend the 6’2” post from the other team. She knew her dad would be less than impressed. She lingered in the locker room after the game trying to avoid him. Maybe he’d just leave, she thought, although she knew it would never happen. She eventually gave up and emerged to find her whole family sitting together in the middle of the bleachers. The picture caught twisted the knife in her heart. Just a year ago it would have been so normal, but that was a very long year ago.
“Good game sweetie,” her mom said as she stood up to give her a hug.
“Yeah, good game!” Mable said.
“Hi honey.” Her dad said giving her a hug. Her preparation for what she knew was coming dulled the affection in his embrace.
Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel Page 16
