Changing Leads

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie wasn’t sure she had heard him right. “Scott Forester?”

  “No, Scott of the Antarctic,” Phil said. He chuckled. “Yeah, I mean Scott Forester. He invited me over to shoot some hoops again.”

  “How nice.” Stevie grimaced, glad that Phil couldn’t see her.

  “He’s a really cool guy, you know, Stevie,” Phil went on. “I mean, I know you two have some problems, but I think if you just gave each other a chance, started out fresh—”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Stevie snapped, annoyed at his tone. “I’m not the one playing silent treatment here, you know. You ought to save your breath for telling your good friend Scott how cool I am instead of the other way around.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Phil protested. “I mean, it’s just that I like Scott a lot. And of course you know I’m crazy about you. I really want you two to make up so that we can all be friends.”

  Stevie gripped the phone more tightly. Phil was usually a bright guy, which made it all the harder to believe how dense he was being. “Look, save your pep talk,” she said irritably. “I don’t need to hear it. In case you didn’t notice, Scott’s the one to blame for us not being pals. Not me.”

  “I know, I know,” Phil said. “But—”

  Stevie interrupted. “Listen, I’ve gotta go,” she said. “Talk to you later.” She slammed the phone down. At times like these, guys were more trouble than they were worth.

  FORTEEN

  By the time the final bell rang the following day, Stevie was starting to feel a little guilty about hanging up on Phil. He had called her back after dinner, but she’d had Alex tell him she was in the shower. Now she realized that maybe she had been a little hard on Phil. He was only trying to help.

  With trying being the operative word, she thought as she dumped her books in her locker and headed for the exit. Sitting through yet another chemistry lab from hell had only reinforced her opinion that Phil had been way off base. Scott had spent the entire class period that day teasing Sue about her daisy-shaped barrettes and totally ignoring Stevie. It was getting harder to take with every passing day, and the only thing that had kept Stevie from asking to be moved to a different group was the fact that they’d had a substitute teacher.

  She blinked as she stepped out of the school building into the bright afternoon sunlight. As she walked down the crumbling stone steps toward the student parking lot, she saw someone waving at her. Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Phil?” she whispered. Her heart soared. She couldn’t believe he was there.

  She sped up, taking the steps two at a time. Soon she was close enough to leap at him and give him a kiss.

  He kissed her back, laughing at the same time. “Hi, Stevie!” he said as she pulled away. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Well?” she said, smiling and waiting.

  “Well what?”

  Her smile wavered. “You know,” she said impatiently, punching him lightly on the arm. “Aren’t you going to tell me why you’re here?”

  “Oh!” Phil shrugged. “Right. I told Scott I’d pick him up. We’re supposed to hit the country club for a few games of tennis, and his car’s being inspected.”

  Stevie felt her face go hot while her insides turned to ice. “You’re here to see … Scott?” she said evenly.

  Phil seemed to recognize that something was wrong. He gave her that weird, conciliatory half smile he always used when he thought she might be mad at him but wasn’t sure why. “Yeah, I was going to tell you about it on the phone yesterday, but you hung up before I got the chance. What was that all about, anyway?”

  Stevie was clenching her fists so hard her fingers were starting to go numb. She couldn’t believe Phil could be so totally, completely, irredeemably clueless. She felt uncontrollable rage bubbling up inside her. Scott Forester had been making her life miserable for too long, and now he had enlisted her boyfriend to make things even worse. First they had spoiled Pine Hollow by hanging out together there, making it even more uncomfortable for her at the stable than it had been before. Now they were meeting at her school. What next? Would her parents invite the two of them to dinner so that she could be humiliated in her own home, too?

  “I’ll tell you what this is about,” Stevie cried, taking a step closer and poking Phil sharply in the chest. “This is about your bad—no, make that your horrible, excruciatingly horrible—taste in new friends. I mean, you know how Scott treats me. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

  Phil raised his hands in front of him in a gesture of appeasement. “I know. But listen, Stevie—”

  “No, you listen.” Stevie was really getting warmed up now. She had held this in for too long. She was sick of being the mature one about it. “Scott Forester pretends to be this great, nice, likable, friendly guy. But he’s not. He’s a—a jerk. He treats me like dirt, and for what? Because he thinks I’m to blame for hurting his sister. Well, guess what?” Stevie spread her arms wide, her voice rising. “Guess what? His sister doesn’t blame me. Nobody blames me except him. So where does he get off? Does he think he’s so damn important, so high and mighty, that he’s allowed to judge me like that? Is he so perfect that he never made a mistake? Or so stupid he doesn’t know the meaning of the word accident? Has it occurred to him that my driving might have saved his sister’s life? Maybe he’s just mad that Callie’s problems aren’t something he can argue away in his precious debate club! Poor baby. Maybe he just needs to grow up and get over it.”

  Stevie noticed that Phil’s face was turning redder and redder by the second. Good, she thought with satisfaction. Maybe that means he’s finally getting it.

  Then another thought occurred to her. She gulped. She turned around slowly. Scott Forester was standing a few feet behind her.

  Stevie froze. Her mind went blank, refusing to accept the truth—that Scott must have heard all the horrible things she had shouted about him. Shouted for the entire parking lot full of students to hear.

  “Well, Stevie,” Scott said evenly after a terrible moment of silence. “I guess now we know who won’t be voted most tactful in the Fenton Hall yearbook this year.”

  It was the longest sentence he’d addressed to her in months, and it jolted her out of her momentary confusion. Her hands on her hips, she glared at him, ignoring Phil, who was making ineffectual soothing noises behind her. “Listen,” she said. “I’ve reached the limit with you. You’ve been doing your best to make me miserable for a long time now, and I’m sick of it.” She waved one hand wildly in the air to punctuate her point. “But that isn’t enough for you, is it, Mr. Vindictive? Now you’re trying to make me flunk chemistry, too. Well, congratulations. I guess that means I’ll see you in summer school next year. Maybe we can even be lab partners again. Won’t that be fun?”

  Scott’s angry expression settled into a stubborn look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said loudly. “Don’t blame me if you can’t handle your classes.”

  “Oh, please!” Stevie exclaimed, laughing sharply in pure disbelief. She shook off Phil’s hand, which was tugging desperately on her arm. Could Scott really be this dense? Had his grudge totally warped his mind? “Now you’re trying to pin that on me, too? Unbelievable.”

  “Give me a break. You—” Scott began hotly.

  Stevie cut him off to correct herself, drowning out his words by the sheer force and volume of her own. “Actually, maybe it’s not so unbelievable. You’ve been blaming me for just about everything lately short of the weather, but I’m sure that if you thought it was too hot or too wet or too whatever, that would be my fault, too!”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scott said through clenched teeth. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to this garbage.” He spun on his heel and started to walk away.

  But Stevie wasn’t finished with him yet. She leaped forward and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn and face her. Phil hurried after her, once again murmuring something about calmi
ng down. But Stevie didn’t feel like calming down. “Yes, you do have to listen,” she shouted into Scott’s scowling face, dropping her hands to her sides. “You do have to listen to me. Because I can’t take this anymore—this idiotic grudge of yours, I mean. It’s gone on long enough. It’s stupid and petty and immature, and in case you didn’t notice, it isn’t doing one single thing to help Callie get better. If anything, it’s probably making things harder for her.”

  Scott glared at her for a moment. Stevie glared back, her fists clenched at her sides, ignoring the curious glances of passing students. Scott had started this, and she wasn’t about to back down. If he wanted a fight, she would give it to him. In fact, she welcomed it. Anything would be better than continuing as they had been.

  Then, to her total amazement, Scott’s face crumpled. His mouth, which had been held in a straight, taut line, quivered. His narrowed eyes grew watery. A tear escaped and trickled down his cheek. A moment later, he buried his face in his hands and started to cry.

  That was the last thing Stevie had expected. Startled, she glanced at Phil for help. Phil looked as surprised as she did, but he reacted quickly. Grabbing Stevie’s arm with one hand and Scott’s with the other, he dragged them off behind a minivan, away from the prying eyes of their fellow students.

  Scott leaned back against the metal side of the van, his arm flung across his face. Stevie just stared at him, still speechless. Phil stood quietly nearby, his face averted, apparently content now to wait it out.

  After a moment, Scott gave one last shuddering sigh and lowered his arm. He didn’t meet Stevie’s eye as he wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice so low that it was barely audible. “I mean—sorry.”

  Stevie wasn’t sure what to say. “Are you okay?” she ventured cautiously after a moment.

  Now Scott raised his eyes to hers. “No,” he answered. “I guess I’m not okay. I thought I was. But it’s pretty obvious now that I’m not.”

  Phil spoke for the first time. “Hey, man,” he said to Scott in that gruff voice that guys always seemed to use in any kind of personal discussion with other guys. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “Yes he does!” Stevie said quickly, feeling her indignation rise again. She shot her boyfriend an irritated look. Just because big, tough, manly Scott Forester had shed a few tears didn’t mean she was letting him off the hook. The show of emotion might have confused Phil, but it had only made her more eager to hash this out once and for all. She turned back to Scott and crossed her arms over her chest. “Listen,” she said. She wasn’t shouting anymore, but she kept her voice firm. “What’s going on here, anyway?”

  Scott shrugged and ran one hand through his thick, wavy hair. “I don’t know.”

  Stevie frowned slightly. It still felt strange to have Scott responding to her after so long, but so far he wasn’t shedding much light on anything.

  “Just answer me one question, okay?” Stevie waited for Scott to nod before continuing. “Why have you been torturing me all this time?”

  “I don’t know,” Scott said again, heavily. “I don’t know.”

  That wasn’t good enough for Stevie. Not now. Not when they had come this far. “Come on, you can do better than that,” she said bluntly. “What did I ever to do you—I mean really? It can’t just be about the accident. Can it?”

  For a moment she didn’t think Scott was going to answer. She heard Phil shifting his feet uneasily at her side, but she didn’t take her eyes off Scott as a range of emotions—anger, sadness, pride, and something else, perhaps fear?—played across his handsome face.

  Finally he heaved a long, deep sigh and blinked quickly a few times. “I haven’t really been asking myself that,” he said slowly, breaking away from Stevie’s intense gaze and staring at the blacktop. “I should have, I think.” He swallowed hard. When he continued, his voice sounded steadier. “I know I should have. You’re right to be angry, Stevie. I guess maybe I haven’t been fair.”

  Stevie opened her mouth to agree, but Phil shot her a look and shook his head. Realizing he was right, she clamped her mouth shut again and waited for Scott to go on.

  “I know everyone thinks of me as this easygoing, relaxed kind of guy,” Scott said, tapping his fingers nervously on the van. “I sort of like having them think that. But it’s not really the truth. I worry about a lot of stuff. I—I just don’t like to let people see that. I’m not sure why.”

  Stevie had a pretty good guess about that. It was obvious to anyone who had seen them together that Scott modeled much of his personality and behavior on his father. As a politician hungry for public approval—which translated into votes—Congressman Forester couldn’t afford to let his guard down, to appear weak or vulnerable or uncertain, or angry or upset. Even after Callie’s accident, the congressman had told reporters merely that he was optimistic about her recovery. That didn’t give Scott much to go on. But Stevie decided to keep her theory to herself, for the moment at least.

  “So why break the mold for me?” Stevie asked. “I mean, you haven’t exactly been easygoing and relaxed when I’ve been around lately. Anybody could see that.”

  “I know. I think that’s part of the reason I’ve stayed so angry.” Scott shrugged. “I guess I blamed you for that, too—for making me look like a jerk in front of other people.”

  Phil cleared his throat. “Stevie wasn’t the one who made you look like a jerk, Scott,” he said.

  Scott nodded. “I know, I know.” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking all this time. I guess I wasn’t thinking, or at least I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Stevie was getting a little impatient with all this introspection. She was glad that Scott was getting to know himself better, but where did that leave her? “You still didn’t answer my question,” she said. “Why were you so mad at me in the first place? I mean, I could sort of understand it at the beginning. You were worried about your sister, and you didn’t know me that well—I probably would have jumped to some conclusions, too. But then Callie forgave me, and the police …” She let her words trail away. She had been over this so many times before; in her own head, with her friends and family and other people. Even the thought of it made her weary.

  Scott shrugged and, for a second, seemed unwilling to answer. Then he spoke up again, still sounding reluctant. “I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t.”

  “Listen, Scott,” Phil said. “This isn’t really my business. But if you want to know what I think, I think it’s because you’re kind of a control freak.”

  Duh! Stevie thought. She could have told both guys that ages ago. It was obvious in everything Scott did, from debate club to driving his sister to all her therapeutic riding sessions.

  Scott shot Phil a quick, angry glance. But then he seemed to stop and think about what he’d said. “What do you mean by that?” he asked quietly.

  Phil looked a bit uncomfortable, but he went on. “It’s like the other day at the country club,” he said. “You got all upset just because someone else ran past us and got the court we wanted.”

  “Come on!” Scott said quickly. “You saw that jerk. He was totally out of line. I mean, I couldn’t—Oh.” He wrinkled his brow. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I guess I see what you mean.”

  “That could be why Callie’s accident hit you so hard,” Phil continued. “I mean, nobody could have prevented it. Nobody could have predicted it. It just happened—out of anyone’s control.” He snapped his fingers to illustrate. “Out of your control.” He glanced at Stevie somberly. “That’s why it was so important for you to find someone to blame.”

  At first Stevie didn’t get it. Then she nodded as understanding dawned. What Phil was saying was foreign to her in one way, since she herself had never feared the unknown—in theory, at least. Part of what she loved about life was its unpredictable nature. She welcomed that, embraced it, thrived on it. But once, when Alex had bee
n gravely ill with meningitis, she had realized how hard it could be not to know the answers to certain questions when someone you loved was involved.

  “I get it,” she said, staring at Scott as she worked through it in her own mind. “You pinned it all on me. If you convinced yourself that I was totally responsible for what happened to Callie, you wouldn’t have to think about the bigger picture. The fact that accidents happen and people get hurt, even die. You didn’t really want to think about that possibility, did you? You just needed someone to be responsible.”

  “Well,” Scott said. He looked even more uncomfortable than Phil did. “I guess you two have me all figured out, huh?” But his words didn’t sound hostile. In fact, his voice was weary and sad.

  Stevie exchanged glances with Phil. She had no idea what to say next, and she could tell he didn’t, either. “Listen, Scott—” she began tentatively.

  He held up a hand to silence her, not meeting her eye. “No, let me say something,” he said in that same weary tone. “I’m sorry about all this. Me and you, I mean. It’s all my fault. It was wrong, really unfair. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you hate me right now.” He lifted his head and looked her square in the face. “But I hope—I mean, can you—Can we start over again? Try to be friends, or at least not enemies?”

  Stevie rubbed her face and sighed. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. This whole conversation had been one big surprise from beginning to end. And Scott had put her through so much misery for so long … But what was the point of dwelling on that? Stevie had never been one to wallow in self-pity. It was time to move on.

  “Sure,” she told Scott, managing a slight smile. “I’d like that.”

  Scott looked relieved. “Good,” he said. He returned her smile. “Maybe this way we can both even manage to pass chem this semester.”

  Stevie grimaced. “Let’s not get crazy here,” she joked.

  Phil stepped forward. He seemed relieved, too. “This has been fun,” he said, keeping his voice light and casual. “But why don’t we get out of here? Maybe the three of us could grab a bite to eat somewhere.”