by April Lurie
“You know,” I said, glancing in Brandi's full-length mirror and cringing, “I still don't understand why we couldn't just have played tennis at the park like we al ways do. Then we wouldn't have to wear these pathetic clothes.”
She was sitting at her vanity applying mascara and paused for a moment to roll her eyes to the ceiling. Unlike me, Brandi had gone against her principles and used some of the money Mr. Luciano had given her to buy a Chris Evert tennis outfit. She even had matching socks with pom-poms. “Look, April, will you stop being so negative? I already told you. The courts at Poly Prep are really nice. Besides, Walt did this as a special favor, just for us. Remember, we're his guests.”
I wanted to remind Brandi that I was actually doing this as a favor for her, but at this point I figured it would be an exercise in futility.
“Anyway,” she said, applying a few more strokes of mascara, “before we go, I wanted to give you the heads-up about Bert.”
I narrowed my eyes at her reflection. “Bert? What do you mean?”
“Well …” She spun around. “I was talking to Walt on the phone last night, and he told me that ever since the dance Bert's had this mad crush on you.”
“Brandi! Oh my God! I don't believe this.”
“Come on, April, you got to admit, Bert's a nice guy. I know he's kind of short, and okay, not really that cute, but he's got a great personality.”
I flopped on her bed. “Brandi, that's not the point!”
“Well, what is the point? Jeez, April, I didn't think you were so superficial.”
“Superficial? Brandi, I already told you, Dominick came to my house Friday when you were at choir. We're sort of … together now.”
“Then why hasn't he called you?”
I'd actually been wondering the same thing, but I was not about to say this. “I didn't give him my phone number, okay?”
“But you're the only Lundquist in the book.”
“Will you shut up? Look, I know you don't approve of Dominick, but I really, really like him. For your information, he's nice, funny, talented, sweet—”
“Hold on. Did you just say sweet?”
“Yes! Look at the way he treats Larry. I mean, how many people would even bother with a fourteen-year-old retarded boy? And you should have seen him and Sammy together. Sammy absolutely loved him.”
“Mm-hmm. Sounds like your parents did too.”
“I don't care what my parents think. I'm sick and tired of trying to please them. Besides, nothing I do is ever good enough.”
Brandi didn't say anything for a while. Finally, she picked up a brush, sat beside me, and began running it through my hair. “April, look, I'm sorry for giving you such a hard time about …” I could tell she wanted to say “that creep,” but she stopped herself, “Dominick. It's just, there's something about him I don't trust. I mean, you know he's gotten into a lot of trouble at school, and it's not just the drum set he took, it's all the other stuff too, like cutting class, getting into fights, smoking pot in the bathroom. And what about Roxanne?”
“What about her?” I said.
“It's just, well, she's been hanging around him a lot lately. I know they're not going out anymore but still, you're my best friend. I don't want you getting hurt.”
I sighed while she swept my hair up into a ponytail. Roxanne was not a person I wanted to think about right now. “Don't worry, Brandi. I'm not going to get hurt.”
* * *
Since Walt's brother wasn't available to chauffeur and Poly Prep was within walking distance, we told Bert and Walt we'd meet them at the courts at three o'clock. It was a beautiful October day—the air was cool and crisp, the sky blue, and the leaves on the trees different shades of red, orange, and yellow. In fact, everything would have been perfect except for the big Lincoln parked on the corner outside Frankie the Crunch's house. It was like an ink splotch on a beautifully painted sky.
As we passed by, the electric window slowly rolled down. “Hi, dolls, playing a little tennis today?” Brandi and I looked at each other, then peered inside the car. In the driver's seat sat Gorgeous Vinny, and next to him was Frankie the Crunch. I wondered if Vinny was delivering a freshly killed body from his restaurant.
Frankie tipped his hat. “Hi, babes.”
Brandi was hiding behind me now, breathing down my neck. “Oh … hi, Mr. Persico,” I said. “Hi, Mr. Consiglione. Um, yeah, we're playing tennis at Poly Prep today.”
Gorgeous Vinny nodded and glanced toward the backseat. It could have been my imagination, or Brandi making noises behind me, but I thought I heard a muffled yelp. “Listen,” he said, “I just wanted to tell you, I talked to John Travolta's agent the other day—turns out he's definitely coming to town. I'll see if I can get you girls tickets for the show.”
“Oh … thank you, Mr. Persico. That would be nice.”
“Yeah, right,” Brandi whispered in my ear, “not only is he a creep, he's a pathological liar.”
“Okay, well, have a good time. Win a few games for me, huh?” Gorgeous Vinny winked, and I noticed that today he wasn't wearing his toupee. In fact, he looked like he'd had a pretty rough night.
“Yeah,” Frankie chimed in. “Enjoy. Oh, to be young again.”
As the window rolled up, I could have sworn I heard thumping coming from the trunk. Then again, it could have been my own heart pounding inside my chest. “Let's get out of here,” I said to Brandi.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
As we walked along the avenue crunching piles of dead leaves beneath our feet, I thought of the Lincoln getting crunched in one of Frankie's machines. But I didn't have too much time to consider this because a minute later Tony and Fritz popped out of Tony's driveway. “Whoa-ho, look who it is!” Tony said. “The Apester and Brandi.” He cupped one hand around his mouth and called, “Hey, Matt, your sister's here!”
Oh, well, I thought, at least Matt wasn't bound and gagged in the back of the Lincoln. It wasn't long before the rest of the imbeciles piled onto the sidewalk.
“Just keep going,” I whispered to Brandi. “Ignore them.”
“Whoa, wait a second,” Fritz said. “Let's get a better look at you two. Nice outfits. What's the occasion?”
“No occasion, Fritz,” Brandi said. “Now leave us alone.”
Little Joe took a seat on the hood of a parked Chevy while Matt and Big Joe barricaded the sidewalk so we couldn't pass. “Where are you going, Monk?” Matt said. “And why are you dressed like that?”
“None of your freaking business,” I answered. “Now move!”
Big Joe grinned. “Nice skirt, Ape. But be careful when you bend over.”
Matt gave him a hard shove. “Shut up, Joe!” He looked at me. “Now, I asked you a question. Where are you going?”
When I didn't answer, Brandi twirled her racquet. “Take one guess, Matt.”
He glared at both of us. “Last time I checked, the park was in the opposite direction.”
“Maybe we're not going to the park,” Brandi said. “Maybe we were invited to play tennis with some so phisticated people. Unlike yourselves.” I could have clobbered her.
Matt crossed his arms over his chest. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Does this have anything to do with those fairyland punks? The shrimp and the mama's boy you went to the dance with? Are you gonna play tennis with those two clowns?”
I motioned to Brandi to keep her mouth shut, but she didn't heed my advice. “For your information,” she said, “Walt has a permit at Poly Prep. We're going to play doubles with him and Bert. Now, if you jackasses would move out of the way—”
They all started cracking up. “Ooooo, Walt has a permit at Poly Prep!” Tony said. “How special!”
“Oh, I wanna play!” Fritz squealed. “Wait, let me run inside and get my little white skivvies.”
I glanced toward the parked Chevy, but now Little Joe was nowhere to be seen. “Will you guys grow up?” I said. “I swear, you act like two-year-olds.”
Finally Matt and
Big Joe let us pass. “Tell the fairies we'll be checking up on ‘em,” Matt said.
“Yeah,” Big Joe agreed. “Who knows, we might just pay a little visit to Poly Prep this afternoon.” He flexed his bicep. “Put a little fear into those boys.”
Fritz tossed the basketball to Matt, and the four of them went back to their game of H-O-R-S-E in the driveway. Brandi and I continued along, but just when we thought the coast was clear, Little Joe appeared from behind a tree.
We both jumped. “Joe!” Brandi said. “You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing?”
“Um, I need to talk to April. Alone.”
She looked at me, then back at Joe. “Ohh-kay. Whatever. I guess I'll just walk ahead and let you guys chat. Privately.”
Brandi strolled along, casting curious glances behind her. Meanwhile, Little Joe seemed more concerned about Matt seeing the two of us together. His eyes kept darting in the direction of Fritz's house. “Listen, April,” he said. “I've been thinking, you know, about things.”
“Things?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Like … the two of us. I mean, I know you're Matt's sister, and you're younger than me, but when you think about it, we're only two years apart, and …” He hesitated. “Aw shoot, how can I say this? I've just … I've been having a hard time seeing you with other guys. I mean, I know you're gonna date and everything, but—”
“Joe! What the hell are you doing?” Matt stood at the entrance of Fritz's driveway with his hands on hips. “We've been looking all over for you. It's your turn. H-O-R.” He held up the ball.
“Listen, I better go,” Little Joe said. “Just, think about what I said, okay? I'll see you around.”
I stood there dazed, watching Little Joe sprint up the street. When he reached the driveway, Matt tossed him the ball. “Jeez, Joe, what's the matter with you lately?”
Brandi was waiting for me at the corner. “So what did he want?” she asked. “What was so private that he couldn't say it in front of me?”
“Oh …” I waved this away like it was nothing. “Just something about Bettina being over at our house the other day. Apparently his uncle knew about it.” I didn't like lying to Brandi, but what could I say? That Little Joe might have the hots for me? It was unthinkable.
“Well, that's no secret.” She frowned and shook her head. “Ever since that day at the beach Little Joe's been acting so weird. Have you noticed?”
I shrugged. “Um, maybe.”
“I know,” she said, grinning. “I bet he was traumatized after you flashed him your boob.”
I gave her a shove. “I didn't flash him my boob. It fell out of my swimsuit, remember? All because you had to wear my yellow bikini.”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot.”
It was amazing how Brandi always blew off the most important details.
“Oh, well,” she said, “we better hurry up. Don't want to keep the boys waiting.”
Bert and Walt were already on the courts warming up by the time we arrived. From a distance I could tell they weren't total spazzes, they obviously knew how to play, but I was certain that Brandi and I could kick their butts if we really wanted to. “There they are,” Brandi said. “Hi, guys!” she called. “Sorry we're late.”
“Oh, no problem,” Bert said. Apparently he was still the spokesman for Walt, who remained hopelessly silent. “Come on over and we'll volley a little.”
As we walked onto the court, the breeze blew, lifting my skirt, and as I quickly smoothed it down I caught Bert gawking at my long, gangly legs. “Hey, sorry about the dress code,” he said. “It sucks, but the tennis Nazis in the office will kick us off the court if we don't comply.”
I shrugged. “Whatever, no big deal.” I could tell Bert was trying to be nice while also impressing me with his wry wit, but the last thing I wanted to do was encourage him. Not after what Brandi had told me.
He bounced the ball a few times. “So have you girls played much tennis?”
I looked at Brandi and shrugged. “Yeah, some.” I didn't want to let on just how good we were. At least not yet.
“How about we hit the ball around for a while, then start up a game?” Bert suggested.
Walt and Brandi nodded while I squeezed the neck of my racquet, feeling a powerful surge of adrenaline. “All right, let's warm up.” Now that we were here, I thought it might be fun to cream the two Xavierian boys. But just as I was about to scoop a ball from the ground, I saw Brandi heading over to Walt's side of the court. “Brandi, where are you going?” I said.
She turned around. “What do you mean? We're playing mixed doubles.”
I blinked. “Mixed doubles?”
Meanwhile, Bert hopped the net onto my side of the court. Minus the platforms, his eyes were about level with my chest. “Wow,” he said, “you even have an alligator on your pocket. Very preppy.”
I was not in the mood for this. “Um, excuse me for a minute,” I said, marching over to Brandi. “Since when, may I ask, do we play on opposite sides?”
“April,” she said, giving me the eye. “Come on. We're doing the boy-girl thing today. I thought you knew that.”
Across the way Walt was looking a little confused. “Is everything all right, Brandi?”
She turned and gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes, everything's fine. We've never played on these courts before, and April was wondering if there were any new rules we needed to know about.”
“Liar,” I whispered.
“Oh.” He scratched his head. “No, I don't think so.”
She threw up her hands. “Great, then let's play.”
While Brandi the Traitor joined Walt, I reluctantly took my place beside an eager-looking Bert. He handed me a couple of balls, which I quickly stuffed into my pockets. Now my skirt flared on either side, making me look like a giant seagull in flight. “Hey, uh, April?” he said.
“Yeah?” Across the net, Brandi was pretending she didn't know how to hold a racquet, so Walt had to lean over and show her.
Bert cleared his throat. “Well, this might come as a surprise to you, but because of my, shall we say, height disadvantage, you probably want to play the net. That is, if you'd like to win.”
Now Brandi was giggling while Walt showed her the proper way to stroke the racquet. “Oh, sure,” I said, “no problem. I'll play net.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Great. Didn't want Walt abusing me today, if you know what I mean.”
It turned out that Bert was pretty good at lobs and low passing shots, and after the four of us volleyed for about twenty minutes I was able to detect Walt's major weaknesses. He couldn't return anything with heavy topspin, and his backhand was definitely his Achilles heel. As for Brandi, she was hitting the ball like a total patsy, and if she didn't step it up they were sure to lose. “Are you guys ready to play a game?” I said.
Walt shrugged. “Sure, we're ready.”
“Okay, you guys serve first.” I tossed them a couple of balls and turned to Bert. “Listen,” I said, “here's our strategy. Any chance you get, hit to Brandi, otherwise use lots of topspin, and always, always make sure Walt swings backhand. I'll control the net and cover midcourt. You play deep.”
Bert nodded. “Cool. I, uh, didn't realize you were such a serious player.”
“I'm not,” I said. “I just want to win.”
After Bert and I killed Walt and Brandi 6-1 in the first set, I noticed a man who'd been giving a girl lessons leaning against the fence, watching us play. It was my turn to serve, and when Bert handed me a ball he whispered, “Looks like you've got a scout interested.”
“Scout?” I said. “What are you talking about?”
He rolled his eyes in the direction of the man. “That's Frank Stapleton, head coach of the Lady Firebirds. I'm telling you, he likes what he sees.”
“Really? You think so?”
He nodded. “I know so. Now go ahead. Serve the ball. Show him what you got.”
Even though I was m
ore interested in creaming Walt and Brandi, I kind of liked the idea that this coach was watching me. That I might be good enough to play for his team. I stepped to the line, stared long and hard at Walt, tossed up the ball, and fired it to his backhand. He swung and didn't even make contact.
“Whoo-hoo!” Bert said. “How do you like that, Walt? She aced you!”
I had to admit, Walt was a pretty good sport. He shrugged. “It's pretty humbling. Oh, well, great serve, April.”
“Thanks.” I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.
Brandi was obviously annoyed that I was showing up her new partner. But as we continued to play she didn't put on the pressure like I thought she would. Instead she acted all ladylike, allowing Walt to take most of the shots. I'd never seen her play a more pathetic game of tennis in my life.
Just as I was about to serve for the final set, Matt and his idiot friends came strolling toward the courts. On the immaculate grounds of Poly Prep, they resembled a pack of mangy sewer rats. “Hey, Ape, looking good!” Tony called. “Go on, slam that sucker into the ground!”
Tony, Fritz, and Big Joe jumped onto the fence and hung there like a bunch of chimpanzees while Matt bounced his basketball, staring fiercely at Bert. Little Joe had a ball too, only he was twirling it on his finger, watching me.
Bert waved. “Hey, hi, guys, how're you doing?” I glanced over at Walt and noticed that his eyes were darting in all directions. Obviously he didn't want to be associated with the riffraff.
“Not bad,” Matt said. “Just checking up on my little sister.” He peered over at Walt. “And Brandi, too. You girls doing okay?”
Brandi rolled her eyes. “Yes, Matt, we're fine. Now would you please leave? If you haven't noticed, we're trying to play a game of tennis.”
“Hey, come on, now,” Big Joe said. “Is that any way to treat us?” He jumped off the fence and rolled up both sleeves. “We just wanted to know if you needed any help.”
