My next “Special Guest Appearance” was a few weeks later at my own softball team’s opening day ceremonies. Mr. Hansen didn’t let me out of my contract, by the way. The whole time I was complaining, he just grinned. Then he told me that he really liked the way I was looking out for girls who couldn’t afford the shoes and said he was going to talk to public relations about doing some giveaways or something like that.
I wish they had done that first thing on opening day. Instead, I had to stand in a booth filled with boxes of really expensive shoes with my name on them in front of all the girls I know and pretend that the best thing for them would be to beg their parents to buy them.
“So, which ones should I get?” TJ pulled out box after box and scattered the shoes on the grass.
“You should get the ‘A-Okays.’ ” (Those were the ones with all the red Ks all over. TJ’s a pitcher, and when you strike someone out, the scorekeeper puts a K in the box.)
“Oooh, good idea! Do you have them in size six?”
I grabbed a box from behind the table. She pulled two one-hundred dollar bills out of her pocket and asked if I had change.
“Where did you get THAT?”
“What?”
“That money!”
“It’s just two hundred dollars. My grandma gave it to me for Christmas. I was saving it for something special. Don’t you think Riley Mae shoes are special?”
I wanted to say no, but I really do think they’re special — just too expensive. “Of course. That’s cool you’re buying some.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to talk all the girls on the team into getting them too.”
“That would be fun! Hey — maybe Swiftriver could do another commercial with our whole team in it. I could ask Mr. Hansen — ”
“Hey, Mom says it’s time for your break and she wants you to take me to the snack bar for a burrito.” Brady was waving money in my face and pointing over at Mom, who was sitting with TJ’s parents under a tree.
“You’re old enough to walk to the snack bar. Can’t you go get me a burrito? I’ve been slaving away here for hours.”
“I’m just saying what Mom said. But it’s okay. I’ll go tell her you said no.”
“No, let’s just go.” I grabbed Brady’s arm and dragged him all the way to the snack bar.
“Help! I’m being kidnapped by Riley Mae — the evil shoe queen!”
“Brady, be quiet. Someone from Swiftriver’s gonna hear you.”
“I don’t care about Swiftriver. I wish they never existed. They’re ruining my personal life.”
“What personal life? The one where you walk around the house all day imagining you’re someone important? You should thank Swiftriver for getting you out of the house. Oh yeah, but you do the same thing no matter where you are, so who cares?”
Brady took off right as we were getting to the front of the line. The kid just didn’t make sense — I thought he was hungry. I watched him go sit on the bleachers and swirl his shoes around in the dirt.
“Can I help you?” The lady at the snack bar looked a little annoyed. I noticed that a huge line had formed behind me while I was messing with Brady.
“No thanks, I think I changed my mind.”
“Then step aside, please.”
“Uh, sure. Sorry.”
Now what? I looked over at Brady again and saw that Flip had arrived with some kind of scary snack for the two of them. I hoped it wasn’t the dreaded pocket jerky. Okay, so he was taken care of. I got back in the snack bar line.
“What do you think you’re doing in this line?” Fawn appeared out of nowhere. She was wearing a pink flowery dress and white sandals and was carrying a ridiculously huge straw bag.
“Getting a burrito. I’m starving.”
“Oh no, you’re not going to eat that junk. Nothing but empty calories here. Follow me.”
She grabbed my arm, and this time I was the one being dragged. I didn’t like it any better than Brady.
“Why are you telling me what to eat? You’re just my makeup girl.”
Fawn reached into her bag, pulled out a box, and handed it to me.
“You don’t need a makeup girl anymore since your mom won’t let you wear makeup. So now I’m your personal assistant. And apparently, you need assistance picking healthy food for yourself. I thought you were an athlete. Don’t athletes know better than to stuff their faces with snack bar burritos?”
I opened the little cardboard box Fawn handed me. An apple, a turkey sandwich, and some string cheese. Yeah, this was a better choice. But it was missing something.
“No chocolate?”
Fawn reached into the straw bag and pulled out a fun-sized bag of peanut M&Ms.
“Here. Ten calories each. Portion control is everything.”
“Gee, thanks.” I was beginning to wish I had my makeup girl back and no personal assistant.
“Now, eat up, because you’re giving away a free pair of shoes in about fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you over at the booth.”
All day long we had been asking girls to put their names in a jar for a drawing for a free pair of Riley Mae shoes. I kinda hoped that girl from the sporting goods store would be here. I hadn’t seen her yet. It would have been cool to pull her name out of the jar. Then she could return her Walmart cleats, and she and her dad would both be happy.
As I walked back to the booth, I spotted Rusty Peterson. She was digging in the cleat exchange barrel.
“Hey Rusty, I hear you’re joining our team this year. It’ll be great having you play shortstop.”
Rusty pulled her head out of the barrel and grinned at me. “Thanks, Riley. I’m really happy about it too. That is, if I find some cleats that fit.”
Rusty stood half a head taller than me, and she had long legs, which would make her fast at running the bases. I figured she got her nickname from her hair color, but why did every girl I know have beautiful, long straight hair except me? I pulled out a hair band and put my out-of-control mop in a ponytail.
I looked down into the barrel. “What size do you wear?”
“Eight. I’ve got big feet. No one ever brings those to exchange.”
We pulled out every pair. Seven-and-a-half was the largest size in the barrel.
“Why don’t you come over and try on some Riley Maes? Taylor was hoping our whole team would have them.”
“Uh, well . . . no offense or anything. I really like the shoes, but . . . it’s just not in our budget right now. See, my dad, well . . . he lost his job about a year ago.”
I swallowed hard.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. We moved into a cheaper apartment last month, so our bills are less now. I just hope he gets something soon so we don’t have to move in with my grandma in Oklahoma.”
I felt like my fancy cleats were glowing, and I wanted to hide them. I had so many pairs. Unfortunately, they were all size six-and-a-half so I couldn’t give any of them to Rusty. Then I got an idea.
“Hey, did you put your name in for the free shoe drawing?”
Rusty’s eyes brightened. “No, I didn’t know about it.”
“Come with me.”
I took her over to the Riley Mae booth and grabbed an entry blank.
“Quick, fill this out. You could win.”
Rusty scribbled her name and address on the paper and I folded it up and stuck it in the jar. I really wanted to have her fill out a bunch of slips, but that would have been cheating. One would have to be enough.
“Come back in fifteen minutes,” I told her.
“Okay, but I’m gonna go grab those seven-and-a-halves out of the bin just in case. They’re the closest to my size and maybe they’re stretched out or something.”
“Okay.”
I just knew she wasn’t going to have to worry about that.
I didn’t need to check my watch for when the drawing started because my new personal assistant hunted me down.
“C’mon, Riley. Drawing time.” Fawn had added a floppy hat to her outfit of the day. Bob Hansen joined her and began tapping on the microphone to see if it was on. Thump, thump, thump. It was.
“Good afternoon, everyone. We want to thank you for letting Swiftriver be a part of your event today. Our company takes pride in bringing you the very best shoes for anything you like to do outdoors! The name of the game today is softball, and we have the privilege of giving away a pair of cleats from our new Riley Mae Collection for girls. And to do the honors, we have a special guest. Your own hometown spokesgirl — Riley Mae!”
Everyone clapped, which was nice, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it because Mr. Hansen stuck the microphone in my face. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it, so I looked at Fawn. I was hoping for some really quick personal assisting. She whispered instructions.
“Say thank you and that you’re glad to be here. Then pick a slip from the jar and read the name.”
Yeah, I guess I could have figured that one out if it hadn’t been for the attack of the nerves. My stomach was all tied up in knots. I saw Rusty leaning up against a tree toward the back of the crowd. Had all these girls filled out slips for the drawing? What were the odds I would pick Rusty’s name?
I cleared my throat.
“Thank you, everybody. It’s great to be here today in good old Fresno.” It was my voice I heard, but it was like I was listening to someone else.
“Let’s see who’s going to win a free pair of Riley Mae shoes!”
I reached in the jar and felt around for Rusty’s name. Why didn’t I fold an edge down or something? I guess that would have been cheating too. I grabbed a handful of papers and then started letting go of one at a time.
God, please let me pull out Rusty’s name.
I finally decided on one slip of paper, and my hands shook as I unfolded it. A sweat drop fell down from my forehead onto my thumb. Gross. I hoped nobody saw that. My eyes blurred and then a familiar name jumped off the page. I took a deep breath.
“The winner of the shoes is . . . Taylor Thompson.” I looked up and saw Rusty grin and shrug. She pointed to the seven-and-a-halves and gave me a thumbs-up sign.
Taylor ran up to me, shrieking. “Can you believe it? It’s like you had best friend radar or something! Come help me pick out which pair I should get!”
I sighed and followed her to the table. I wondered if I could talk her into a pair in size eight.