Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Free Throws

by Janette Rallison

  "We're not going out," he said again.

  I laughed as though I knew he was joking. We came to my classroom, and I walked over and put my hand on the doorknob. "Well, it's been good talking to you. Really, I think you and Cami make the cutest couple. And by the way, you're wearing two different shoes."

  Cami

  Josie had Spanish second period and always went straight there from honors algebra. I didn't even bother trying to intercept her. I didn't have the time, and besides, maybe it was better to let her cool down for a while.

  I went to my locker to exchange my algebra book for my basic-history-you-aren't-smart-enough-to-be-in-the-same-class-as-the-honors-kids book. While I was getting it out, I saw the candy bar sitting on top of my not-honors-either biology book.

  The note didn't look cute anymore, and the whole thing seemed like a stupid idea. But I had it, and Josie had already seen it, so there was no point in not giving it to Ethan now. Besides, once he was joking around with me about our candy-for-secrets system, I'd feel better.

  I took two steps over to his locker and twirled his combination. When I opened the door, a couple of Ethan's notebooks slid out onto the floor. Apparently he'd been in a hurry this morning and just shoved things in. I picked them up, unsure where they went or what to do with them. While I was holding them, Ethan appeared by my side so quickly I jumped.

  "What are you doing with my biology notebooks?" He grabbed them out of my hands as though I was going to contaminate them.

  I felt myself blushing. "They fell out of your locker. I wasn't sure where you wanted them."

  He shoved the notebooks back into his locker in a haphazard manner. "They just fell out? How did my locker get open?

  "I opened it. I was going to give you this." I handed him the candy bar.

  He took it in his hands and turned it over suspiciously. "You were giving this to me?"

  "Yes, it's a candy bar." Obviously it was a candy bar, but from the way he was examining it, you'd think it had explosives wired to it.

  "Uh, thanks." He put the Snickers in his locker without reading the note. "How did you know my combination?"

  "Safecracking is one of my hobbies." I smiled, but he didn't return my smile. Instead, his eyes narrowed. "The candy bar is for your sister," I went on. "So she'll be my informant. I figure it's only fair, since my brother told you all my secrets."

  Ethan took out his math book. "Apparently he left out a few."

  "Well, I hope so. My work for the CIA is top secret."

  He still didn't smile. "I talked to Josie this morning. She told me about your klepping-thing."

  "Klepping-thing?"

  "You know, how you like to steal things."

  I nearly dropped my history book. "She told you I steal things?"

  He shut his locker door and edged away from me. "I hope you get it all worked out with your probation officer, and um, I think you're a nice girl and everything, but I just want to be friends."

  I stared at him, mouth open, his words registering like pounding nails in my head. I couldn't even think of anything to say until he was retreating down the hallway. Then I yelled, "That's not true! I don't even have a probation officer!

  Several students turned around to stare at me. Ethan was not one of them.

  I walked to history, fuming. I fumed through a lesson on the Declaration of Independence, and wrote a new poem for English while I wasn't fuming. Josie was not going to get away with this.

  Ten

  Josie

  Cami was waiting for me outside the English room. Her arms were crossed tightly around her poetry book. Her lips were drawn in a thin line across her face. Apparently she and Ethan had spoken recently.

  She stood in front of me as I neared the door. "You're going to tell Ethan the truth."

  I put one hand on my hip. "Well, I could, but telling him you steal things was kinder than telling him what a backstabbing, two-timing friend you are."

  "I'm backstabbing? Me? You told him I had a probation officer!"

  "And you told me you'd get Ethan to notice me. I didn't think that meant while he was your boyfriend." I walked around her and went into the classroom. I was shaking as I took my seat. I hoped no one noticed. I couldn't look Ethan in the face, so I stared at his feet and his two unmatching shoes.

  Brendan and Justin, who sat beside him, had each switched their shoes so they were wearing unmatching ones too. The entire side of the room seemed to be joking about it. Ashley kicked off her shoes, but before she could switch with anyone, Adam stole her shoe and pretended to be Prince Charming with it.

  Ashley yelled, "Hey, give that back to me!" but you could tell by the way she pouted that she enjoyed the attention. She grabbed at her shoe, but Adam held it out of her reach and asked another girl, "Have you tried on the glass slipper yet?"

  After a few moments of this, Ashley pulled her shoe away from Adam, but Brendan grabbed her other shoe and threw it to Adam. Adam missed, and it flew onto Frederick's desk.

  He looked up from his science fiction novel, picked up the shoe, and threw it back to Ashley. " I 'm trying to read over here. This is English, not PE."

  "Right." Brendan intercepted the throw and waved the shoe at Frederick. "Because if this were PE, someone would have run your gym shorts up the flagpole by now."

  Mrs. Detwiler walked through the door and clapped her hands to get our attention. "Class, sit down! Sit down, everyone.

  People shuffled to their seats while she glanced up and down the rows, taking roll. When she finished, she sat on the edge of her desk with her grade book beside her. She smiled at us benevolently, like she was bestowing some favor. "Today we'll start reciting our personal poetry. Before you read, remember to tell us the title of the poem and what type of poem you're reading." She tugged at the scarf knotted around her neck, then folded her hands in her lap serenely. "Any volunteers to go first?"

  Cami raised her hand.

  Mrs. Detwiler nodded at her. "Please stand while reading, Cami."

  Cami stood, glared at me, and then turned her attention to her paper.

  "My poem is an AABB rhyme pattern and is titled 'Things That Tick Me Off about You.' " Another glance at me. The class fell silent as they watched her.

  "Number one: Always, you must be the best.

  You have to beat me in every test.

  You shine in all the honors classes.

  You get all the basketball passes.

  Number two: Let's say you want a guy,

  heaven forbid that another should try,

  even in passing to get his attention.

  You'll just come up with some lying invention.

  This poem of mine could go quite long—

  a detailed list of what you do wrong.

  But to keep it short, here's what Til do:

  I'll tell you I'm done with number two."

  Cami sat down. Everyone in the class stared at me. Mrs. Detwiler smiled uncomfortably. "Well, that was read very nicely, Cami. Would any one like to comment on assonance and alliteration in Cami's poem?"

  Everyone looked at me. No one raised a hand.

  I raised mine. Mrs. Detwiler nodded toward me. "You have a comment about the poetry, Josie?"

  "No, I have my own poem to read."

  Mrs. Detwiler tugged at her scarf again. "Very well. Please stand."

  I stood and stared at Cami. "My poem is titled 'Oh, Yeah?' And it's free verse." I realized I wasn't holding a paper to read from, but it didn't matter. I spoke anyway. "It's fine with me if our friendship is done, because as a friend, you were a poor one." I hadn't meant to rhyme the first sentence, and now realized I'd have to do the same for the second.

  "You say you're done being number two, but I don't see how that could be true." As long as I stuck with easy-to-rhyme words, I'd be all right.

  "It seems to me number two fits you pretty well."

  "Because"—bell, sell, fell, gel—"you're two-timing, two-faced, too selfish—and now everyone can tell."


  I sat down. Everyone's gaze turned from me to Cami.

  "Well," Mrs. Detwiler said. "Well . . ."

  Cami raised her hand. "Mrs. Detwiler, I have a comment about Josie's poem."

  Mrs. Detwiler stood back from her desk. "I think maybe we'll skip the comments on today's poems." She looked at me, back at Cami, then around the room furtively. "Who else would like to recite something for us? Did anyone write a sonnet?"

  I didn't hear anyone else recite their poems. I had to write down my speech word for word so I could turn it in with my other poems. It wasn't hard to do. I remembered everything I'd said perfectly.

  Cami

  At lunchtime, instead of sitting with Josie at our regular table, I took my tray and sat with Tisha and Barbara from my history class. When they asked why I wasn't sitting with Josie, I told them, "Josie was jealous because a guy she liked called me, so she told him I had a criminal record." I also repeated this explanation to the four girls who came up to me during lunch and asked what the poems in English had been all about.

  Josie sat with Rochelle and Raleigh from her advanced algebra class. She was probably telling them her version of how I'd stolen Ethan.

  I hoped he would come up and talk to me. I wanted to prove to her that Ethan had seen through her lies. But he took his lunch and walked outside with Justin without even a glance at me. After hearing our poetry duel in English, he probably thought Josie and I were both insane.

  Stupid poem. I still couldn't believe she'd said all of that to me. And knowing my luck, Mrs. Detwiler would give her a higher grade because it looked like she'd had hers "memo­rized."

  All day I felt like people were silently taking sides. The girls who walked with Josie in the hall—her side. The girls who talked to me in class—my side, I hoped. The girls who passed the ball to her at basketball practice—her side. The girls who didn't pass the ball to me—her side.

  I never used Ethan's name when I explained things to people—I wanted to keep him out of it as much as possible—but during a water break at practice Lucy Simmons asked me, "Are you going out with Ethan? Is that why you and Josie are fighting?"

  So everyone had figured out it was Ethan anyway.

  "No, we're not going out."

  "Oh." Lucy took a drink of water. "But you are fighting with Josie?"

  "Yeah."

  "Oh. Sorry." She traipsed back onto the court to leave me wondering whose side she was on.

  By the end of practice every nerve of mine had unraveled. There was no way I was going to ride home in a car with Josie. Her mother would ask why we weren't speaking to each other. As I passed by Josie in the locker room, I said, "I don't need a ride home."

  She just shrugged. "Fine."

  After I changed out of my practice clothes, I took my backpack, walked up to the office, and called my house to ask someone to pick me up. Kevin was the only one home, and he didn't have a car. So I waited for a few minutes until I knew Josie had already left, then walked the two miles home.

  I wished I could have changed everything. I wished there was some way to undo everything so the two of us could just go back to how we'd been before today. But today had hap pened. Josie had hurt me. She'd done it on purpose, and she wasn't sorry for doing it. Things would never be the same again.

  Josie

  I don't think my mom was ever a teenager. How could she be, when she has absolutely no concept of what my life is like?

  "You fought over a boy?" she asked when I told her why Cami wasn't riding home with us. She said this as though Cami and I had been fighting over broccoli. Mom tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "There are hundreds of boys in your school. Do you really think one is worth more than your friendship with Cami?"

  I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "First of all, there are hundreds of boys in the school, but they aren't interchangeable. I mean, only one of them is Ethan. Secondly, I wasn't the one who traded in our friendship—that was Cami—and thirdly, she isn't really gone. She lives on in my memory. Look, I've started making lists."

  "Well, I think you two can work this out."

  "Work it out? What do you suggest? She can lend me Ethan on the weekends? She can carry around a lie detector so I'll know when to trust her?"

  Mom rolled her eyes. Jack leaned toward the front seat, putting his face close to my head. "Aren't you friends with Cami anymore?"

  "No."

  "I liked Cami."

  "Figures. Apparently guys always like Cami best."

  Cami

  By the time I made it home, both my parents were in the kitchen putting sandwich stuff on the table. Mom loves submarine sandwiches because they involve no cooking. We have them once a week.

  "You're home," Mom said. "We were wondering when you'd get here."

  I put my backpack down by the door. My shoulders ached from carrying it the whole way. "I told Kevin I was walking."

  Mom and Dad exchanged a look that let me know Kevin had also told them why I was walking. Mom took plates from the cupboard and set them on the table. "So are you planning on walking every day Josie's mom comes to pick you up? What about the days it's my turn to drive?"

  I took a glass from the table and poured myself a big drink of water. "I don't want to carpool with Josie anymore."

  Dad sat down at the table. Kevin and Mom joined him. "Wouldn't it be easier just to make up with Josie? You've been friends for a long time. You want to throw that all away?"

  "It's already thrown away."

  Kevin ripped open the package of rolls and took one out. "So the guy liked you instead of Josie. You can't dictate who likes you. She can't blame you for that."

  Dad took two rolls from the package and handed one to me. "Once Josie has time to cool off, she'll see things your way."

  Mom poured herself a drink of water and didn't say anything. She was a teacher, and a girl. She knew better. She took a slow sip, then set her glass back on the table. "What am I supposed to tell Mrs. Caraway? I'm just supposed to call her up and say, 'Let's not carpool anymore'?"

  "You don't have to. I'll talk to Josie about it," I said.

  After dinner, I IM'd Josie.

  CamE: I think it would be best if we don't ride home from practice together anymore.

  JoCi: Fine.

  That was all. I waited in front of the computer screen to see if she'd add anything. Something along the lines of: Sorry I accused you of having a criminal past. Sorry I told the entire English class you were two-timing, two-faced, and selfish. But she didn't write again.

  I did my homework in my room, all the while half listening to see if Ethan would call. He didn't. At nine thirty at night I unwrapped two of the Snickers bars and cried while I ate them.

  Eleven

  Josie

  The problem with hanging out with one best friend all the time is that when you get in a fight, you suddenly realize you have no other friends. Not really. As I walked through the halls of school on Monday, I saw lots of acquaintances, but no real friends. Not anyone who could finish a sentence for me. Not anyone I could bring to my house without straightening my room up first. How long did real friendships take to make?

  I sat with Rochelle and Raleigh again at lunch and noticed that Rochelle clicked her tongue when she spoke. Neither of them played basketball. When I mentioned we had a game tonight against Buckeye, Raleigh said, "It's bad enough they make us play basketball in PE, I can't believe you stay after school to run up and down the court. I'd probably throw up if I had to do that."

  Yep, here was someone I had a lot in common with.

  I bet Ashley never found herself friendless. She was so popular, if she got in a fight with somebody, she had three more groupies who'd step in to comfort her. She had friends and boys.

  When you came right down to it, all of my problems could be solved with more popularity.

  I decided to go shopping soon and buy a new wardrobe. I'd get a complete makeover. I was going to be in—more in than Cami, and then she'd see I didn'
t need her friendship.

  In biology, Mr. Parkinson gave us time to work on our projects. Frederick wrote the rough draft of our conclusion while I tried to figure out what to say for the hypothesis.

  Hypothesis: If you cut the fins off a rocket, it will no longer fly right. We feel this is an important discovery and could affect other aspects of technology. For example, we also hypothesize that if you cut the wheels off a car, it will no longer run. Ditto for the handlebars of a bike. We are not sure why somebody would actually do any of this, but nonetheless, we wanted to prove it would be a bad idea.

  Frederick looked over at my paper. "That's not our hypothesis. You haven't written anything about the center of gravity or the center of pressure."

  "That's because I've forgotten what both of those things are."

  Furthermore, we hypothesize that if you force two unalike people to become science partners, they will drive each other crazy before the assignment is due. This is especially true if one of them happens to be a bossy know-it-all.

  "I've done my best to overlook your bossiness," Frederick told me.

  "I was talking about you."

  "I know you were talking about me. I was joking. Now quit goofing off and write the real hypothesis."

  I crumpled up my paper and overhanded it into the wastebasket by the wall. A perfect shot. The next time Rochelle and Raleigh turned up their nose at basketball, I could point out the advantage of being able to stay in my seat while throwing wads of paper across the room to the garbage can. With this stupid hypothesis to write, it was a skill that would come in handy.

  "It's the pits, isn't it?" Frederick said.

  "My comprehension of science?"

  "No, feeling like you're all alone in school." Frederick paused in his writing and leaned closer to me. "And by the way, I don't think standing up in English class and telling someone off really counts as poetry."