by Gurley, Jan
He turned to Phoebe and said, “You know how to play basketball?”
Phoebe gave him a measuring glare, “I was on the middle school team, but Uni didn’t want me.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t play ever again,” He looked at his watch, “If you make it to the gym before me, I’ll give you a ten-point lead in a game of twenty-one.”
Phoebe looked stunned. “Gym’s open?”
“Every day before school,” he said, “Take care of my bag?” he asked me, bending to lace his tennis shoes. “You’re losing your lead,” he said, off-hand, to Phoebe.
Phoebe flung her bag at Viola, who nearly flattened underneath the blow, and took off.
Drew straightened and watched her sprint across the giant field.
“Basketball?” I said.
“Most physical contact sport, non-padded, in existence. Outside of boxing.” Some internal clock went ding and he took off after Phoebe.
We stood at the circle of trees and watched. He wasn’t giving her an inch. Even with a big head start, he was gaining on the Phoebes and it was going to be neck-and-neck who made it to the gym first.
“Should we be afraid for him?” Viola asked in a small voice.
After a pause, Helena asked, “Or Phoebe?”
“Who knows,” Bianca said, “Those two could take down the entire gym and all the people in it. If Disaster squads surround Uni, I’ll let you know who survived at lunch.”
With Drew and Phoebe headed off to the gym, I was grateful for the breather as we drifted to the school buildings. The experience in the clearing made me realize that my job, from now on until the last days of school were over, was to stay as far away (emotionally, if not physically) as I could from Drew.
He might figure it out. The whole thing.
Or, my heart did a double-back-flip with a sickening gainer and landed in a painful belly flop, one of the Greenbacks might tell him.
I stopped the group outside the Academy school doors and said, “Guys, I need a minute.”
One by one, they stopped talking and looked at me.
“We can’t tell Drew about the trees, that we’re trying to save them.”
“But why?” Helena said. “He’s not such a jerk any more. What do you care if he knows?” There was a tinge of frustration in her voice, like maybe she thought I was back to being controlling, and for no good reason.
Viola said, into the silence, “I think Kate’s been Pavloving. But now it’s Pavloved her.”
We turned to stare at her, my face a pink dawn of rising embarrassment.
Gonzo said, “What are you talking about?”
Viola said, her voice sharp with irritation, “What else? The Heisenberg uncertainty principle.”
We looked at each other.
Viola stamped her foot, and said, her voice an eerie echo of Drew’s, “Don’t any of you people take quantum physics?”
“Uh. No.” said Tio.
“Well, then,” Viola said, instantly deflating, “fine.”
I had both hands up, desperate to change the subject away from my “Pavloving” and to not waste the little time I had. “Listen, everyone, the reason we can’t tell him is precisely because he’s not being a jerk. If he found out, and wanted to help, or be a part of it — and you know very well he would, the way he is now — he’d get in trouble with the school over the trees and then he’d,” I cleared my throat, aware of the fact that my voice was too high and loud, “he’d get in trouble and there would be no recruiters, no football, maybe not even a graduation.”
“God,” said Tio, “She’s right. I can’t believe I almost forgot all that.”
“That’s cause he’s doing so well,” Viola said, with satisfaction, “from all the Pavloving.”
I snapped, “Will you stop with that?”
Everyone stared at me, Helena studying me, Tio making a slow smile, and I realized I might have revealed too much.
“Just don’t. Do you hear me? If you don’t want Drew crashing and burning — don’t. Don’t say a single word to him.”
Gonzo said, “Hey, chill. We get the point. It’s a valid one. I’ll even tell Phoebe.”
I stormed into the school, a bag in each hand.
As if my day wasn’t bad enough, there was a nasty picture, torn from a men’s magazine, crammed into the crack of my locker door, a smeared phone number scrawled across it in permanent marker. Great, now the Dino-Dog sleazes were after me at school.
And here I was, without a fly swatter.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ten Foot Limit
Chapter 8
At brunch, I sat as far as possible from Drew, and I noticed that, in the opposite direction, so did Alex and Robin.
We chewed in silence, the others darting glances from one end of our group (me) to the other (Alex and Robin).
Drew glowered in the middle, his jaw looking like he was cracking nuts, instead of eating a Gonzo melt-in-your-mouth creation.
Toward the end of brunch, when it was almost time for Alex and Robin to do their going-to-the-bathroom trip, Drew leaned down the line of Greenbacks and said, “Hey, Robin, what do you think’s more appealing, a pitt or a depp?”
Food froze, halfway to mouths. Chewing screeched to a halt.
As if he didn’t notice we were paralyzed in horror, the Dog stood, sliding up the wall behind him. He put a hand in a pocket and sauntered down to the end of the line.
Robin said, glancing sideways at Alex and standing too, “Well, first, you have to take into account the Bowie factor.”
Drew rubbed his chin. “A new type?”
Robin gave Alex a hand up. Alex said, “Nah, more like a sub-type of depp. Bowie’s a sub-phylum that includes the full range of androgyny, everything from Beckham to Ezra Miller to Marilyn Manson.”
Robin added, “Don’t forget Tim Curry, Rocky Horror.”
Drew said, “Classic.” He seemed to realize we were all staring at him, and said, “What? Can’t I see a movie every now and then?” He turned back to Robin, “So what’s better for a guy to be, pitt or depp?”
Robin said, voice ringing with authority, “That’s obvious, a clooney.”
We all listened with bated breath.
“A clooney?” Drew asked, as they headed to the bathroom.
Alex said, “Sure, someone who shifts from pitt to depp. Sometimes even in the same scene. Take the Oceans franchise. Clooney’s a pitt with Julia Roberts, which is why he’s lost her, but a depp with the guys in the caper. Only at the end, when he merges both, does he succeed.”
“So what about women?” Drew shifted to make room so the three could walk abreast.
“You mean what they like better? That’s a kind of personal taste issue, isn’t it?”
“No, I mean, is there a depp-pitt thing for women.”
They stopped and looked at Drew like he was an idiot. Alex said, offended, “Of course there is. Aniston-jolie.”
“Ah,” said Drew.
We all leaned forward as they headed to the atrium, trying to not miss a word.
“See, that’s why the pitt-aniston thing was always doomed. There’s no yin-yang in that. But pitt-jolie, you can see how…” Their voices faded as they headed to the atrium.
All the remaining Greenbacks turned to stare at me.
“What?” I said, feeling defensive.
Tio said, “I bet Alex and Robin do a thesis on this in graduate school. You realize you’ve created a monster.”
Great. Another one.
***
We counted on the fact that it would take Celia more time to locate the circle, coming from Uni. We were all there, ranged around, sitting at the bases of the trees, waiting, when she showed. I sat on the stump by myself. At one tree, Bianca and Drew sat on either side of Tio.
Celia avoided looking at Gonzo, going so far as to stand almost sideways to talk to me over her left shoulder.
“I’m not an idiot,” Celia said, “I left the camera at home in a ziplock bag with
a note to my parents saying if I disappear you guys should be arrested and sent to death row.”
Great. Nice to know we were starting on the right foot.
“So where are my pictures?”
“We can’t deal,” I said.
“Because I left the camera at home? I thought about that and we can set up a swap, me and one person, but not the Dog.”
Bianca glared at Celia.
“Or her,” Celia added.
I felt my fury inferno-ing inside me again and thought, oh honey, you have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you? Not if you think Bianca’s more pissed off than I am. But it was too late for Celia to get a clue. And too late for me to calm down.
I needed this anger, to do what I had to do.
I walked to her and gave her a hard poke in the shoulder. She flinched and stared at me.
“You’re an embarrassment,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me, “Because I go for what I want out of life? Because I refuse to be sucked into some horrible career I don’t want? Because I won’t let my parents bully me? You’re right, those are horrible traits. Which — luckily — none of you have.”
I said, my voice too sweet, “No, sweetie, the reason you’re an embarrassment is that you cheapen the very thing you ought to value about yourself.”
The clearing held its breath and circles of redness erupted like hives on Celia’s cheeks and neck.
“How dare you?” she said.
I didn’t wait for her to catch breath but took a step even closer. “Here’s how I dare. I saw you with my mother. I saw how you could charm a rock if you put your mind to it. You could get your foot in any door in the world. I saw your instincts, how you snapped that picture of Drew without hesitating. We’ve all been run over by your determination. Think about it, charm, journalistic instincts, determination that would make a rhino look feeble.”
Celia said, “Don’t you dare try the fake nice thing on me. Uni girls can run circles around you in that department. I live and breathe people who are nicey-nicey to my face and vicious behind my back. You’re out of your league.”
I couldn’t let myself think about how miserable her life must be, if even half of what she said was true. Pity was the last thing that Celia would tolerate, and right now, frankly, I didn’t feel much for her. I said, my voice hoarse with fury, “Do I look like I’m being nice?”
She had the decency to say, “Well, no.”
“I can promise you, what I’m about to say next, even though it’s the truth, there’s nothing pretty or nice about it. Because what do you, Celia, do with these gifts of yours? These gifts that even a stupid Cosmo questionnaire can recognize? Gifts that other people would give anything to have?”
By now you could hear a twig-drop.
I loomed over her. “You whore them. To become a low-life paparazzi.”
A loud gasp echoed around the clearing and seemed to slap into Celia’s face, which was now death-white.
I turned and stomped back to the stump, saying, over my shoulder. “Go ahead, go to the school.”
Celia stared around the clearing at all of us, her eyes bouncing like she looked for a way out. Then she landed on Gonzo’s gaze and she gave a hiccupy inhale and looked away.
I sat and leaned back on my arms on the stump, trying to hide the fact that my elbows and knees were shaking. “Or,” I said, and the word sounded huge in the silence.
“Or, we could work together. You could use those talents to do some real PR.”
Celia’s brain seemed to be shaking her out of her stupor and her eyes narrowed. “What?” she said, “What did you just say?”
“You could do some articles on the Dog. Not nasty ones. Real ones.”
The Greenbacks shifted, disgruntled, glances exchanged like they weren’t sure whether or not I had just lost my mind.
Celia folded her arms, “Right.” Sarcasm dripped like rotted molasses. “I knew this was some weird game of yours. Like that get-him-angry thing you suggested to make the Dog talk.” Bianca and Drew both stiffened. “There’s no way he’s going to give an interview to me. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t trust him to do it. Not enough to hand over the only leverage I’ve got.”
I turned, for the first time that day, maybe the last time in a long time to come, and looked Drew in the face. He stared at me like I was insane, his face one large frown, and I put everything into my gaze. Please, please, do this. Please, please trust me.
He stood and walked forward. Celia took a step away from him, to the left.
“Sure,” he said, his voice sounding anything but sure, “I’ll answer questions.”
Celia said, “Well, duh. Here, now, of course he’ll say that. Then when he’s with me, he’ll stare at me and refuse to talk.”
Drew looked like he wanted to throttle her, so I blurted, “No he won’t. He’s good for his word.”
“That’s so easy for you to say. Besides, what are you, like his manager?”
Drew’s lip curled up.
Celia sneered, right in his face, “It’s not like you can control him.”
Here’s the truly horrible part — I knew what I was doing. I knew it was something no guy would ever forgive. But I couldn’t let Celia get him convicted of a felony. I wouldn’t let her destroy him. Never.
Or destroy everything else, the trees too.
I knew what I did when I did it. But I did it anyway.
“Drew,” I said, “what if I told you your shirt is too small.”
He stared at me, knowing what the answer should be, but not wanting to say the words. Trust me, I pleaded with my eyes.
He gritted out the words, still glaring at me, not looking at Celia, “I’d say I made a mistake and ordered the wrong size.”
Something inside my heart was creaking and splitting, that horrible scream-sound that a tree makes when it’s ripped in half. I pressed my lips together so they wouldn’t shake, frowning to hold my face still, “Now I’m thinking, hey, it’s too big. What do you say to that?”
A heartbeat of silence, and all the clearing watched, as Drew humiliated himself at my command. He spat the words like every single one was an insult, directed at me, “You’re right. I must have ordered the too-large size.”
“In fact, you’ll do whatever I say.” I turned to Celia, who watched with her mouth open. “Now do you believe he’ll talk to you if I tell him to?” I blinked hard, praying it wouldn’t make the shifting wetness in my vision slide down my face.
The silence stretched and a gull screamed overhead.
She put a hand on her hip, “You’ll just want puff-pieces.”
That’s when I knew I’d won. But lost everything.
Drew stormed out of the clearing, leaving everyone behind, heading to the school without food.
“Yep,” I said, not trusting my voice to say more.
“That’s boring,” Celia said.
“Your job is to make it not.”
Greenbacks were standing, putting their backs to me, picking up bags. Celia said, “I’m keeping the school camera until I've got a few articles out.”
Viola zoomed past me so fast, my shoulder bumped. She put her hands on her hips and said to Celia, “You stupid, stupid person. You don’t know anything. Not even what’s right in front of you. Not even what’s inside you. You keep your stupid camera until the bitter end if you want, for all the good it’ll do you. Just go away.”
Celia looked frightened for the first time.
Viola, somehow, managed to look even fiercer. She leaned from the waist and said in a ringing, hollow, amplified-sounding voice, “GET OUT. NOW.”
Celia turned and fled.
After a moment of shocked silence, Gonzo, too casual, picked up his backpack, reached in and put a stack of foil packets on the ground, then left.
I lay on the stump and put my arms around my head.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually the clearing was silent. I waited some more.
I sat up
and there was Bianca, nibbling a Gonzo mushroom pastry triangle. “Give him time,” she said, “He’ll figure out why you did it.” She rose as effortlessly as if she was filled with helium, brushed her swingy mid-calf skirt and walked off into the sunshine.
She had waited there, motionless, for over 25 minutes, just to say that to me.
Drew might, eventually, understand why I did it. But she and I both knew that didn’t mean he’d ever forgive me.
***
Tutoring was hell. We were back to back again, my nose tickling the cube-wall, me breathing through my mouth to hold myself as motionless as possible, and still we were way too close for comfort. Bianca arrived, a bit late, and said, “Curtis, your turn in the tutoring side room. A musical instrument, I think.”
It was so unexpected, it was probably the only thing that could have pierced my misery. I rose, seconds behind Drew, who stood with his arms crossed, surveying them over the cube wall. Curtis, glancing Drew’s way, wiped the smug smile off his face.
“Sure,” he said, “name your instrument.”
Call me a pessimist, but it seemed unlikely to me that Curtis could be a music virtuoso. Probably he’d gotten carried away with the giddiness of the moment. Bianca, tapping a finger to her chin, thought for a second and said, “Cello.”
A look of sheer panic rooted Curtis to the spot. “C’mon,” Bianca said, “Aren’t there cellos in the Academy orchestra room, Tio?”
Tio, who’d been glaring thunderbolts at me, as if all of this way my fault, suddenly seemed to understand Bianca was up to something. He leaned back in his chair and gave Curtis a look of pure malice. “Yep.”
Tio asked Bianca, “You play cello?”
“Oh no,” she said, glibly, “but Curtis swears he can teach me anything.”
Tio added, “Be sure to sign the cello out,” he couldn’t resist throwing another thunderbolt glare my way as he said, “I’d hate for Bianca to get in trouble if valuable school property goes missing.”
I slunk down into my seat.
Drew also sat. Without thinking about it, we’d ended up in the his-shoulder-behind-my-shoulder position. I sat rigid, not knowing how to get out of it, when he said, staring at the hypnotizing monitor, “Do what you want, but I’m tired of twisting around the whole period. Makes my neck hurt worse than the damn Pilates class. I’m not moving.”
