The girls threw themselves wholeheartedly into the game, and Sue found even she was relaxing and having fun. All too soon the first parent came to collect his daughter, and, as quickly as the girls had arrived, the house now became empty.
“A nice group of youngsters,” Dad said as he helped Sue clean up the debris in the room while Mom whipped out the vacuum. “That Judy is a born actress, too.”
Sue was glad the hum of the vacuum made talking difficult. But she resented the way Dad seemed to be fooled by Judy’s airs. Judy, the threatener, Judy the know-all, Judy, the girl who had whispered gaily as she left. “Remember the fine.” And before Sue could say a word, she’d leaned over and whispered, “Know where Dave was tonight? Read tomorrow’s paper.”
Darn that Judy anyway. Now she’d started Sue worrying again. What had she meant? Sue felt almost impatient as she sat before the mirror and set her hair. This bedroom of hers was turning into a worrying room for sure. Dave hadn’t mentioned any plans for the evening. Most of the time, she knew, he stayed home. But he still saw the gang. Did he think they were wonderful guys? Mo—and the others? Or was he as disillusioned as she was? Ever since she’d become involved with the Jay Dees, it seemed, she had something to worry about most of the time.
Sue climbed wearily into bed. Mom and Dad—they’d made this Jay Dee meeting the best ever. Maybe she, Sue Stevens, most insignificant of all members, could evoke a change in The Crowd’s routine. Or would she have a chance at Maxine’s party?
She tried to relax, to make herself fall asleep. But every time she dozed, she’d awaken with a start. Judy had done it again. Judy was giving her a dreadful night. Finally she gave up trying to sleep and took her pillow over to the window and leaned against the sill. She watched the stars fade and the first streaks of dawn light the sky. She heard the birds begin their morning chatter. This was going to be a beautiful day. She was silly to let Judy worry her. Now the sky was as pink as her dress. If only she could write a poem about it. Pink and blue, grass wet with dew... poetry was not her line, that was for sure. The thump of the morning paper hitting the front steps broke her reverie and she hurried down the stairs. She felt almost disloyal to Dave as she picked up the paper. Judy had just been talking. She was sure of that now. The cement was cold against her feet as she stood in the doorway and read the front-page stories. A train wreck . . . a new conference . . . She breathed a sigh of relief. Then a smaller item toward the corner of the page caught her eye. “Vandals Work Havoc”— Taft Junior High—her school—had been broken in to. Windows were smashed and dynamite caps had blown up the fixtures in the boys’ lounge. Teen-agers, the police suspected. Mo, maybe? Dave, too? Would Dave go along with the gang to destroy like that? Would he—or could he “chicken out” on a gang “project”? If he did, he’d lose his leadership for sure. Did it mean that much to him? The early-morning sunshine made the dew on the lawn glisten, but the day ahead looked like a bleak, formidable one. There was a decision Sue had to make.
18.
Accused
Sue faced the day with dread and foreboding. She must see Dave. Her mind was made up. But Dave didn’t seem to be at school. Neither was Mo, for that matter. Could they be “in conference” with Mr. Mack? She didn’t envy them. Even though they had it coming.
She looked for Dave in the emergency assembly. Surely he wouldn’t still be in the office—not with Mr. Mack standing on the stage, ready to address the student body.
Mr. Mack’s voice betrayed his controlled fury as he addressed the youngsters. “An inside job,” he called it, recounting the specific damage done to the building. “A disgrace to the school, a blot to the community.” The chief of police made a speech, too. He told the students the police would welcome any information—even though the police department had some valuable clues as to the identity of the culprits. The guilty party would be discovered in time, he explained, but both work and money could be saved if students would only tell what they know.
“For instance,” he said, holding aloft an object, “this key ring was found in the boys’ washroom. Does anyone know whose it is?”
As he held it up to the audience, Sue felt sick all over. The tiny harmonica attached to the ring was a dead giveaway. Dave, how could you, she wanted to cry.
The assembly was finally over. Students made their way in excited groups back to their home rooms. Judy pushed against Sue at the doorway.
“Know where Dave was last night?” she asked. Her smile was a gloating thing. Sue didn’t answer but pushed forward with the crowd until there were several students between Judy and her.
Back to the home room at last, Sue took her seat gratefully. But Mr. Henderson apparently thought the students needed to hear more on the subject of vandalism. Americanism, patriotism, the business of living with oneself. She studied her hands as she clenched them together. Was he lecturing just her? How were the other students taking it? She stole a glance at the student across from her and met a speculative grin. Quickly she looked to the other side. She was being watched—probably by everyone in the room. Her face felt like a mask. “Stop looking at me,” she wanted to scream. “I didn’t do anything.”
By lunch time Sue was so unnerved she asked Mr. Henderson if she could remain in class during the hour.
“Perhaps you should see the school nurse,” Mr. Henderson suggested. “You might be better off at home.” There was nothing Sue would like more than to be home right that minute. But she shook her head. “I—I just feel tired,” she said.
If she’d had any doubts that rumors were flying and her classmates were regarding her with speculative interest, by the time afternoon classes were underway they were thoroughly dispelled. If students were talking, what would Mr. Mack be thinking? Sue fully expected a summons to his office. She could hardly believe her good luck when the dismissal bell rang and she was on her way home, free and unquestioned.
If only Mom were still driving her to and from school! But no, since the beginning of the week she was navigating to and from school on her own. Sue hurried down the block. With a start, she saw Dave waiting for her on the corner. She averted her eyes. She’d been looking for Dave all day. Now that he was here before her, she wanted to avoid him.
“Hey, Sue!” Dave grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt.
Sue faced him. So okay, she’d get it over with right now. She looked at him and her eyes widened in amazement. He looked so excited, delighted. He seemed so smugly pleased with himself.
“Boy, what excitement last night.” Dave gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m really bushed.”
Sue’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t doubt it,” she said, her voice dripping with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
“Huh?” Dave’s face looked a little crestfallen. “You know about it?”
“Who doesn’t? It’s all over school.”
“All over school?” Dave frowned.
“How could you be so stupid?” Sue’s chin jutted out as she lashed at him. “How can you possibly be such a dope? The harmonica on the key ring is a giveaway.”
“Key ring?” Dave’s air of mystification seemed so sincere, Sue felt as though he should get an “A” in acting ability. “I was going to tell you—I lost it.”
“Oh, Dave.” Sue’s voice showed her complete scorn. “That’s such a weak excuse. You’re dumber than I thought.” She jerked his bracelet off her arm and thrust it at him. “Here,” she said. “This time we’re really through. Fm quitting Jay Dees, too. I’m not having anything to do with any of you. Fm finished.” She thrust the bracelet at him again. “Aren’t you going to take it?”
Dave took the bracelet slowly. He stared at her with complete disbelief.
She brushed angrily at the tears that had sprung to her eyes. “And don’t look so stupid, standing there with your mouth hanging open,” she stormed. “Maybe Judy will be impressed. I’m not.” She turned on her heel and broke into a run. If she’d stayed there one more minute she would have been crying. After
just a few steps she remembered doctor’s orders and slowed her pace. She turned back once. Dave was still standing there at the corner. “Hey, Dave,” he heard Judy call. She turned back quickly. It was all over. Judy and Dave—they deserved each other—destructive vandals!
It was almost too much of a coincidence as she rounded the corner to see Ricky and Chester walking ahead of her. She hadn’t really talked to them since the day in her room. Maybe they’d be friends again. “Wait,” she called. “Ricky, Chester, wait.”
They turned, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly toward her.
“What’s the idea?” Ricky asked.
“I thought maybe—well, Mom probably made cookies or something today, and—would you—would you like some?”
“At your house?” Chester looked worried.
“You used to,” Sue said. She raised her arm. “No bracelet,” she explained. She knew she was being “pushy”—positively brazen. But she needed company.
“Okay,” Ricky reached for her books. “I’m game.”
Now that they were walking with her, Sue couldn’t think of a thing to say. The boys couldn’t, either, apparently.
Chester broke the silence once. “Say, that was sure something the kids did to the school,” he commented. “Hope they all get caught.”
“Yes.” Now what had she meant by that, Sue wondered to herself. “Yes” for it being something—or “yes” for the kids getting caught. Her eyes stung. Somehow she couldn’t see Dave facing the police. She continued the rest of the walk home in silence.
“That you, Sue?” Mom called as Sue opened the front door.
“Uh-huh,” Sue made her voice gay. “And I’ve brought company.”
“I expected you to. I made gingerbread to celebrate.” Mom emerged from the kitchen, a broad grin on her face. She looked startled when she saw Ricky and Chester. “Why—welcome,” she said. “I haven’t seen you boys for ages.” She turned puzzled eyes toward Sue. “Did you see Dave?” she asked.
Sue nodded. “Yes,” she said shortly.
“Oh.” Mom continued to eye Sue with a puzzled expression as she went about the business of cutting and serving the gingerbread. “Well, aren’t you excited?”
Now it was Sue’s turn to be puzzled. What in the world was Mom driving at? Ricky and Chester maintained a discreet silence as they ate their gingerbread.
“Well, aren’t you?” Mom pursued.
The back door banged and Kit and Jay came charging into the kitchen. “Gingerbread for us, too, Mom,” Jay demanded. He gave Ricky and Chester a surprised look. “You here?” he questioned. He turned to Sue. “Where’s Dave?”
“Two babies,” Kit exclaimed. “Two whole itsy-bitsy babies.”
“Yeah.” Jay spread his fingers and shrugged. “Too bad one had to be a girl, but—”
“I’m glad one’s a girl,” Kit interrupted. “Girls are best.”
“You mean,” Sue said slowly, “that—Mrs. Young . . .” Her voice faltered.
“Sue,” Mom studied Sue’s face. “Didn’t Dave tell you that Mrs. Young had twins last night?”
Sue shook her head. She hadn’t given Dave a chance to tell her anything.
“Say, that’s pretty great,” Ricky remarked. “Two kids to boss around.”
Sue stared at her plate woodenly. The others kept up a steady chatter and didn’t seem to notice her silence. Why did it take the boys so long to finish a piece of gingerbread and drink some milk? Why didn’t they leave? At last Chester had meticulously consumed the last crumb and the boys stood up.
“Guess we’d better start for home,” Ricky said. “Thanks for the gingerbread.”
“Sure was good, Mrs. Stevens.” Chester shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Sue wanted to scream her impatience at them. Why didn’t they leave right now?
At last they were walking down the sidewalk. Sue felt dull and stupid as she turned from the door. Mom looked at her expectantly.
“Would you like to talk things out, Sue,” Mom asked. Her eyes were warm and understanding.
“There’s nothing to talk out, Mom,” Sue said dismally. “I just goofed.”
“About Dave?”
Sue nodded.
“But Dave and his dad were so excited when they stopped by. Why, Dave was a regular clock watcher as he waited for the exact minute when his father could drive him to school to meet you.”
Sue felt tears spring to her eyes. “I—I want to go to my room now,” she said.
“Sue, darling—" Mom made a gesture as though she were going to envelope Sue in her arms.
“Please, Mom.” Sue’s voice cracked on a sob and she hurried up the stairs. Sympathy! She couldn’t stand it. Not after the way she’d acted the fool. She flung herself across the bed and let the tears come. Poor Dave. Why hadn’t she listened, just given him a chance? But the key chain—the harmonica—they’d thrown her off. Was that what they had been supposed to do? To put authorities on the wrong trail? Once more Dave had an alibi. But how long would his luck last?
Maybe she should tell Dave—explain about the assembly—explain that earlier warning from Mr. Mack. Dave was home now, most likely. She could phone. She’d change her clothes, wash her face, and then phone.
As she reached into the back of the closet for her favorite old jeans, she noticed a couple of her dresses had slipped from their hangers and were crumpled on the floor. She picked them up. The pink dress—how could it have fallen down? She shook it out. The lovely, swirly skirt was wrinkled, unfresh looking. Now it would have to be laundered before she could wear it. And then its pretty newness would never be the same. Slowly she dropped it in the hamper. Her pink dress, her lovely, lovely pink dress, the one Dave liked so much . . . Would he ever like it—or her—again?
Sue walked down the stairs and over to the phone. “I’m going to call Dave,” she told her mother. “I have something to explain.”
Her fingers were wooden sticks as she dialed. She heard the phone ring . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . on the ninth ring, she heard the receiver picked up.
“Hello?”
Sue swallowed. “Mr. Young,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
“Hello, hello,” Mr. Young repeated. “Speak louder. I can’t hear you.”
“This is Sue,” she said. “May I speak to Dave?”
“Just a moment.”
Sue heard his footsteps recede across the floor. Her heart was hammering so loudly she hoped Dave wouldn’t be able to hear it. The steps were coming back again. This is it, she thought desperately.
“Sue?”
“Dave,” she started, then stopped short.
“This is Mr. Young, Sue.” Dave’s father’s voice was kindly, almost pitying. “We were just leaving for dinner when you called. Dave said he’ll try to phone you when we return home.”
“Thank you.” Sue hung up the receiver and stared at it numbly. Dave wouldn’t call. He was telling her in no uncertain terms he was through. Her steps lagged as she walked to the kitchen. “Dave—Dave was outside,” she told her mother. “Maybe—maybe I’d better explain.”
19.
Kangaroo Court
Sue spent a bad night. Even telling Mom—and then Dad—about everything hadn’t helped much.
Now as she sat in class, half listening to Mr. Henderson, she tried to recall Mom’s parting words. Mom and Dad were great ones for adages or proverbs or whatever one called them. Such as: It’s always darkest before dawn, and every cloud has a silver lining.
“Sue,” Mom had said as Sue started for school. “I know you won’t believe this, but things do work out. They are never as bad as they seem.”
Oh, but they were. If anything, they were getting worse. The disruption and excitement of yesterday had simmered down, but Sue was positive her classmates were eying her with curiosity. Or were they pitying her because she no longer wore Dave’s bracelet? Perhaps she could apologize to Dave today, because he hadn’t called back last night.
&nb
sp; “Sue Stevens.”
Sue raised startled eyes to Mr. Henderson.
“I’m glad you are finally with us,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve spoken to you twice already. Would you care to put the problem on the board?”
Sue flushed miserably. What problem?
“Page eighty,” she heard the girl behind her whisper. “The third one.”
Sue flashed a grateful look to the girl as she took her book and walked to the blackboard. But once there, she wished herself fervently back in her seat. The formula for this problem completely eluded her. “I don’t get it,” she finally admitted.
“Obviously.” Mr. Henderson’s voice showed his displeasure. “Perhaps if you spent more time on your studies, and less daydreaming . . .” His words hung there, his thought uncompleted as Sue took her seat.
By the time lunch hour arrived, Sue knew today was a very bad day. Probably one of the worst. Mr. Henderson’s stopping her at the door hadn’t helped matters.
“Your work is slipping badly,” he said. “You’re going to have to dig in.”
“I’ll—I’ll do better,” Sue promised. She hurried from his disapproving gaze to the brick wall. She opened her lunch bag. One lone girl, one brick wall, one tuna sandwich; how had she, Sue Stevens, managed to get herself so unliked? Wasn’t anyone going to join her? Had even Maxine deserted her? Dave! He was probably back with the gang, glad to be rid of her.
As she searched the yard for him, Sue’s eyes widened in surprise. Instead of being with Judy and Mo and the others, he was talking to Chester and Ricky. She saw Cathy and Ellen join them and felt more lonely than ever. If only she had the courage to walk over and join them! She saw Judy go over toward them, too, then turn away and walk rapidly toward Mo. She wore that speculative expression on her face that Sue had come to hate. Now what?
Sue munched her sandwich thoughtfully. At least talking things out with Mom and Dad had eased her conscience. “We waited a long time for you to come to us, Sue,” Dad had said. “We didn’t want to pry.”
The Pink Dress Page 14
