TENTH GRADE ANGST
Page 13
I haven’t had a date since Matthew and I broke up. Of course, I’m on week four of being grounded and not being allowed to date, though I think Mom and Dad are about ready to let me have a life again. When Ms. Hawk told Luke and me that she wanted us to cover the basketball game on Thursday, I knew I was going to have to ask Luke to take me because Mom and Dad are always tied up on Thursday nights. I was afraid to talk to Dad about it, so I went to Mom and she said she would have to ask Dad about how he would feel about me going with Luke. I begged her not to do that, that going with Luke wasn’t a date, that Ms. Hawk had assigned me to the game, and it was for a grade. But all Mom said was that she wasn’t so sure how Dad would feel about my being out at night, even though it wasn’t a date, with a boy like Luke. Not that she had anything against Luke, he always does “such a nice job, mowing the lawn, you know.”
She does have something against Luke, though, I can tell. Wednesday evening at supper, Dad told me that I could go with Luke to the game, but I had to keep an eye on him in case “he pulled anything” and to text him when I got to school and when I left. And that if I “had any doubts whatsoever about riding home with him,” to call him and he would come get me.
I had all that nonsense rolling around in my head when I got into the car, that I just couldn’t talk with Luke about anything. It’s not like I’ve had much chance to talk about anything when I’ve been in a car with guys. All the guys I’ve dated have been so self-centered about their stupid sports and other stupid stuff—it’s like I’ve just been along for the ride—a really boring ride.
But with Luke it was different. He kept talking to me and asking my opinion about what questions he should ask and what kind of pictures I wanted to take, and then he started talking about school and asked what did I think about Mr. Wayne’s explanation on the “little known reasons why America won the Revolutionary War.” Things like the British coming down with malaria and small pox and their not having the “home court advantage.” Then he talked about Mrs. Kendel recommending that he and Mia read Fahrenheit 451 for their next Friday book club novel and how it seemed really good so far, and he kept going on and on.
So by the time we got to the game, I was talking to him and expressing my opinion on everything, and he was nodding his head and replying and really listening to me. I’m not used to boys being like that; I don’t think they know how to act—at least the ones I’ve been around. Then when we sat down against the wall in the gym to take pictures, I had to sit real close to him and our legs and shoulders touched because there were ball boys and cheerleaders on both sides of us. All these feelings that I have for him every now and then started rushing in, and I knew I had to get control of my emotions before I did something stupid. I would never flirt with Luke because of him and Mia being together, and I have too much respect for Mia to do that anyway because she’s really my best friend now. But, still…I get these feelings.
I don’t like to watch sports—any sport—but, I’ve got to say that by the end of the game, I was even excited. The game was so close and the crowd was yelling and cheering like crazy, and nobody really knew who was going to win. When the game had just a few seconds left, Marcus went in to—whatever they call it when a guy jumps real high and he’s trying to get real close to the basketball goal and shove the ball into the net—do one of those type things. When Marcus was getting ready to do that, this Jefferson guy knocked Marcus down and hurt him really bad. It was just sickening to see Marcus lying like that on the floor and being hurt so bad. I was so shook up that I forgot to take pictures, but I don’t think running pictures in the yearbook of Marcus being hurt would have been a good thing anyway.
On the way home, I told Luke that I was hungry and would he mind stopping and getting an ice cream cone, and I told him I would buy him one, too. He said he would be glad to stop for me, but he didn’t want anything to eat. I realized right then that I had probably said the wrong thing, that by what I was saying and the way I said it, I was implying that he was too poor to buy himself ice cream. But, honestly, what I was trying to do was spend a little more time with him. Except for Marcus getting injured and us losing the game, it was the best time I’ve ever had with a boy, and it wasn’t even a date. Maybe I should try to be friends with a guy before I go out with one. Things sure aren’t working out with the way I’ve been going about dating.
Chapter Forty-Three: Marcus
I never would have thought that I would get injured playing basketball. It was getting hurt on a football field that was always in the back of my mind. But that’s what happened Thursday night in the first game of regionals. We had a great season. Coach Henson told us after we won our league regular season and league tournament titles that we were his best team in the 12 years he’s been coaching varsity. After we won our conference tournament game, coach told me to come into his office and he said that he was really pleased with my progress as a player, but most of all, he really appreciated how I had become a better teammate and leader this year… that I was becoming a man.
His praise really meant a lot to me. I realize now that I was a jerk most of my freshman year on the football and basketball teams, and maybe getting caught cheating in history class and getting punished at home and at school was the best thing that ever has happened to me. Coach Henson told me that the thing that impressed him most about my sophomore season was that I was second on the team to Quintin in assists with 4.2 per game—that’s “excellent,” he said, “for a high school shooting guard.” Last year, I was only concerned about what my scoring average was, but now I really like dishing out those assists.
The regional game was at home because we had earned it because of our regular season and league tournament success. I really thought we were going to win because of the home court advantage, but everybody on the team knew that Jefferson was no pushover. The game started out great. Quintin fed Matthew for a fast break layup right off the tip, and I drained a three at the end of the quarter to put us up by five. At halftime, we were up by six points and everything was looking great. Maybe we were already thinking that we would be playing in the next round at home on Saturday night.
Still, we stayed solid in the third quarter and we were ahead by seven points at the start of the last quarter, but then the wheels just seemed to come off. Jefferson hit a trey to start the quarter, then right after that Matthew got a technical called on him for cursing about a travelling call that went against him. Jefferson got two free throws and possession after that and they turned that into four points and all of a sudden, they were just down one. Maybe we panicked a little after that because we went cold from the field for three minutes and we were down by four before we knew what had hit us.
We were still down by four with two minutes left in the game when I hit a three, then we had a stop; and on our next possession, I fed Quintin for a backdoor layup and all of a sudden we were up by one. We even got the rebound on Jefferson’s next possession, but couldn’t take advantage of it when Matthew lost the ball going in for a layup. I thought he was fouled but the refs didn’t call anything, and Quintin had to separate Matthew from one of the refs, he was jawing at him so hard. Maybe we should have kept our minds on the game instead of worrying about how the officials were calling things.
What happened next, I’m still a little foggy about. I picked Jefferson’s pocket when their shooting guard went behind his back. I thought I had a clear path to the basket for a dunk that would have put us up by three with less than 15 seconds left. When I was skying toward the rim, I got hit from behind and when I landed, I fell funny and I knew my right leg was hurt real bad. And my head hit the floor, too.
I remember rolling around on the floor in pain, but that’s about it. I must have passed out because the next thing I knew I was in the emergency room and still feeling groggy and in pain and Coach Henson and Mom and Dad and Joshua had their heads down and then I knew we had lost. I don’t even want to know what the final score was or what happened after I left the game. My righ
t leg was hurting so bad, and I kept passing out and people kept telling me to wake up.
Later, I found out that I had a torn ACL and a mild concussion. I can live with the concussion, that’s no big deal. But the ACL thing means that I’m going to miss spring football practice and not be able to play any pickup basketball this summer… my leg’s going to take four to six months to heal said the doctor. The worst case scenario is that I only miss a couple of football games at the start of the season. I got to admit that I’m worried sick about my coming back and having the speed and quickness that I once did. I mean, that’s always been the best part of my game. If I lose those two things, I can’t be a wide-out anymore. I don’t want to have to gain 30 pounds and become a tight end like Joshua. Then I also wouldn’t have the speed and quickness like I need to have to be a shooting guard.
I couldn’t get my leg surgery scheduled until Monday and my leg didn’t hurt too bad because of the pain killers, but I was still so dizzy I spent Friday and Saturday just sitting around the house. Kylee came by after school and visited and spent much of the day Saturday at my house. I really appreciated that, her doing that made me feel close to her. Coach Henson and a bunch of the guys on the basketball team also came over and visited me Friday right after school, but Caleb didn’t come by even though he just lives down the street. We’re not solid anymore. I guess he figures he’s going to have a new number one receiver next year anyway. I’ll show him, though.
Chapter Forty-Four: Mia
I never would have thought that Luke, Elly, Marcus, and I would be in the same room alone together at Marcus’ house, but that’s what happened last Saturday morning. I had to babysit in Elly’s neighborhood on Friday night, so earlier in the week she said when I was done why not walk down the street and spend the night at her house? She said we could binge watch Netflix or Hulu or something and make fudge and eat that while watching and talking and so on until we were too tired to stay up. Luke and I had planned an afternoon date for Saturday afternoon, because he had to till somebody’s garden and plant their fruit trees on Saturday morning, so he and I decided that he could just pick me up at Elly’s when he was done with the job.
But after Marcus was injured at the basketball game on Thursday night, I suggested to Luke and later to Elly that the three of us go visit him after Luke finished work. I reminded Luke that Marcus and his brother stood up for him that time he got injured at football practice and Luke owed it to Marcus to come by and see how he was doing. Luke agreed and said I was right. That’s one of the reasons why I like Luke so much; he listens to me and respects what I have to say. I’ve heard Elly, Camila, and Hannah and lots of other girls say that one of the major problems they are having with guys is that they won’t listen to common sense suggestions. That if the guy doesn’t come up with the idea to do something or change something about himself, then we can just forget about it happening. Mary says the trick is to get a guy to think that it was his idea first and then praise him for having thought of the change we want him to make before he actually ever does it, let alone think about it. Maybe Mary is right that we have to con a guy into doing something, but I don’t want a guy like that in the first place. I really don’t care much for Mary, to be honest. I don’t trust her. I hate it that I think that way about another girl, but it’s true.
I really had a good time at Elly’s house Friday night. She told me all about Luke and her covering the game Thursday night and that he had really come out of his shell since his freshman year and several times he raved about how great I was. That made me feel really good; I’m so glad he’s my boyfriend. I’d heard so much talk about how great Netflix and Hulu and binge watching some show are that I was glad that I finally got to see what all the fuss was about. But honestly, I don’t get the point of watching some show for hours and hours. It just seemed like such a waste of time. Elly and I watched some stupid show about dead people walking around half crazy and weird, then I told her why not just turn the thing off and we could talk until we were sleepy and full of fudge… so that’s what we did until around 2. I’ve never been up that late in my life, but I still woke up at 6 because that’s what time I have to get up every day to do chores and take care of the chickens. I just couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got out Sand County Almanac, one of the books that Luke wanted me to read about the outdoors, until Elly finally woke up around 9:00. I confess that I started rustling around in the room and making noise. I think she would have slept until noon.
Luke came over at 10:00 when we were finishing breakfast, and I could tell that he was hungry because he had been up so long and working so hard. I know that he appreciates it when I look out for him… he’s told me so. So Elly and I made him an egg sandwich and then we walked down the street to Marcus’ house. Elly had called his mom the night before, so she knew we were coming. I could tell Marcus really appreciated us coming by, and he and Luke talked and talked about the game, analyzing every little thing. Why we had gotten the lead and why we lost the lead, and I really didn’t understand what they were talking about, but the two guys were into it.
Then Luke asked Marcus about his leg and how long it would take to heal so he could “get back to being 100 percent.” They had a really serious discussion about all that, and I could tell that Marcus was scared about how much he could recover. Marcus was so cocky last year about being a professional athlete that I can understand why he’s so worried. He really has grown up a lot since then. But he should be really worried. Because she’s a nurse, I asked Mama about how serious a torn ACL is for an athlete, especially somebody like Marcus. She said he might never be the player he once was, of course, depending on a lot of things, especially if he ever reinjures that leg; but on the other hand, he could have a great recovery. Marcus might have all his sports dreams turn out right for him, but the smart thing would be for him to start thinking about a backup plan. I was glad we all went to see him and got to know him better.
Tests and More Tests
Chapter Forty-Five: Luke
The other day, Ms. Whitney came into Ms. Hawk’s English 10 Honors class and told us that she wanted all of us to take the PSAT 10 next week and how important it was for preparing for the PSATs our junior year and then the SATs. I’d already signed up, I know they’re important for me, but, still, I dread taking the thing. At least, it wasn’t as bad as the Geometry SOL test was and all the crap I had to go through for that.
Things started off bad and just got worse as the whole process went on. It began when Mrs. Waters told me and most of the class that we had to either come in before school for 45 minutes of tutoring or stay after for it. I chose the before school prison instead of the after school version, so I wouldn’t have it hanging over my head all day and so I could get my lawn moving jobs taken care of. Ms. Waters and the other geometry teacher, Mrs. Roberts, were both in there with my fellow losers from their two classes and one of the kids in my group was Thomas. I’ve tried to stay away from him ever since we almost got into it earlier in the year, and when he came into tutoring (predictably he was late) he walked by my desk and whispered, “Sooner or later, I’m gonna beat the crap out of you.” Of course, he didn’t use the word crap if you know what I mean. I thought about saying something smart right back at him, but I decided to just let it slide. I don’t know if I could take him one on one in a fair fight. What’s the difference anyway who wins or loses; if we get into a fight, we’ll both get suspended. So when he stared at me to see what kind of reaction I was going to give him, I just shrugged. I guess I’ll worry about fighting him if and when it happens. High school boy fights are mostly pushing and shoving and lots of threats. But, gosh, when high school girls fight it’s absolutely vicious: hair pulling, biting, scratching, and cursing, that hair pulling especially is insane.
Then Mrs. Roberts started going over some standard SOL questions with Thomas, me, and two other math losers. The first one was very easy said Mrs. Roberts, “It’s about functions, and you all remember what they are.” No, I do
n’t; I remember the word function and that there are variables and inputs and outputs, then long lines of numbers after the directions and the next thing is a list of multiple answers—or multiple guesses—then the wrong answer that I just penciled in the blank comes next. I missed the easy “sample question,” and so did Thomas and one of the other math losers in our group. You know you’re in a remedial class, when three out of the four participants can’t get the sample question right.
Mrs. Roberts should have stopped right there and gone back over functions because it was clear that 75 percent of her group had forgotten what they were—or never knew. But she apparently was on a schedule, so we rushed on to the next debacle. It had to do with Venn diagrams, which are these circles that have bled into each other with words like isosceles and equilateral hovering nearby like a flock of vultures waiting to pick your bones. All four of us got the sample question wrong on that one. But good old Mrs. Roberts seemed unflustered by her young scholars’ stupidity and kept on going to a ratio sample question which had to do with the ratio of a slope to a line that answered to the name of J and something was parallel to the line J or maybe it intersected the J or ran through it, who knows, who cares, who is gonna use this stuff in real life? Maybe I should have told good old Thomas right about then to beat the snot out of me and put me out of my misery.
And so it went until the bell for first period mercifully rang. I had a week of before school tutoring like that and I still failed the geometry SOL with a 375. Ms. Waters after she gave me the news on that one told me that since I had failed the SOL with such a high number (400 is passing) I had the opportunity to take “expedited retakes” in two days. I could tell how hard she was trying to convince me that this was a good thing, but all I could see was that I had another “opportunity” to look stupid to her.