I go to school the next day, having totally forgotten the night before. I pull up in the truck with JuneBug in tow. There’s my Oliver. Just thinking about our last make-out session gets me all hot and bothered. JuneBug senses the change. “Oooh. Grosss. You guys are still in the honeymoon stage.” She hops out of the car and heads for the school building.
I go to lean on Oliver. He gives me a look I haven’t seen, and I thought I knew all of them. “Hi!” I say before I peck him on the lips. He kisses me back a little bit. Okay… He takes my hand, and we start walking toward the building. We walk along in silence. He’s got something on his mind. “Spit it out,” I say, as we near the building. He stops.
“Alright. So, um, when were you going to tell me about your basketball prowess? And that, you’re like a big deal in Florida, top scorer in your league, have college scouts lined up by the dozens, and you aren’t even playing basketball this year? Oh, and who is Rico Tomas?”
At this, I slap a hand over Oliver’s mouth. “Please. Don’t say that creep’s name.” I glance at Oliver’s watch and note the time. “Let’s walk and talk. Rico is a reporter slash publicity hound that used to like follow me around in Florida. Guess he thought I was going to be somebody someday, and he wanted to be like the one who discovered me or something. I don’t know. I didn’t ask him to follow me around like an adoring puppy. And I get why you were like wondering and all that, but this is a big, heavy conversation and now is not the time. I mean, yes, I played basketball. Yes, I was good. Yes, it was my life.
It started out as great, then It was all-consuming and I… I just wanted a break from all of it.. and well, if you read the whole article, then I’m sure you know why we moved here, and how hard it’s been for my mom. And now, it’s like a shit-show about to break wide open, and I just used a curse word which I hate, and we, my mother and I, didn’t ask for any of this, but I guess that doesn’t matter to social media.” By this time we’re in the school hallway.
I let go of Oliver’s hand and go to yearbook. I know he still has questions, but I’m not ready to answer them.. just yet. I step into the room. It only gets worse. I should have known. Livvy, the Red Spitfire, my ultimate nightmare, has my whole life pulled up on social media when I walk into the room. I just about walk right back out the door, but I don’t, as I whisper to myself. “Ballers don’t back down.” But seriously, where’s the teacher? Ms. Dante is always here. Of all the days, for her not to be in the room, she picks this one?
Livvy starts up, “Hi, miss Florida basketball queen. Didn’t know you were sooo popular…like are we even worthy to be in your presence.. must not be, given that you are soooo awesome on the court, but wait, how come you aren’t playing here?” She proceeds to read the rest of the article out loud, including the bit about my father, but I’m not hearing her…
My imagination has taken over…it’s a rumble in the jungle at the UFC fights here at the home of the Lady Larks.. in the one corner, you have fightin’, spittin’ vengeful Spitfire Red… in the other corner you have smash em’ crash em’, take no crap from anyone, Queen of the Amazons.. ladies and gentlemen, this will no doubt be a knock-down drag-out fight.. it looks like Red, true to her nature, has drawn first blood, but the Amazon is not going to take this lyin’ down, she may not start fights but she knows how to finish one…
“Girls! Girls!” Ms. Dante’s voice tunnels into the distant corners of my mind. How did I get across the room and how is it I have a handful of Red’s hair in my hand? Her nails scratch my arms as they aim for my face, but it barely registers. My anger is that bad. Oy.
Rein it in, Queen, Rein it in. What would you do if Oliver saw you like this, is the last thought I have; and here he is; a front and center witness to my inner barbarian. Crap-o-la. Could this day get any worse?
A camera flash blinds my eyes. I look past Oliver’s stricken face and see Rico Tomas. What the hell is he doing in my Ohio high school hallway, holding a camera? This picture’s going straight to social media.
Despite all this, my hand holds tight to the head of the 5’ red-headed screaming banshee who threw the first ball of crap. This is so annoying. All the media is going to see is me, a giant bully trying to ineffectively scalp the poor, helpless midget girl with my bare hands…this is so not good.
Ms. Dante is finally here. She’s going to give me an earful next. Wait. She marches straight for the doorway?
Who will be the next object of Ms. Dante’s wrath? None other than Rico Tomas. She stares him down. “Excuse me, where is your visitor’s pass? And what are you doing taking unauthorized pictures in the high school during school hours?”
Rico Tomas gets all indignant and puffs out his chest. “I’m a news reporter.” He holds out his ID. Ms. Dante glances at it.
“I know who you are, Rico Tomas. You’re a reporter from Florida—if you want to call yourself that. But this is Ohio. And you don’t have permission to go taking pictures wherever you please.” She turns and looks at me, pointedly ignoring the sniveling Red hanging from the palm of my hand that practically outlines her entire hairline. “Katie. Do you give Rico, here, permission to take your picture?”
Um, No? “No. I do not,” I manage.
Ms. Dante turns back to Rico. “She doesn’t give you permission, so hand that camera over.”
Rico Tomas backs away. “This is crazy. I don’t have to give you anything.”
Ms. Dante follows after him. “Do I need to Call security or are you going to hand over the digital media that you obtained illegally?”
Rico looks defeated. “Fine. Here.” My teacher turned hero ejects his memory card before shaking a finger in his face. “Remember this, Mr. camera man. I know your name and I know you’re here without permission. I don’t want to see anything in the news about today. Our student’s privacy and safety come first, and that is not something we take lightly. I believe you know where the front door is…”
With that, she turns her back on him and marches back into the classroom, slamming the door behind her. She goes and gets a long piece of dark poster board and proceeds to duct tape it to the window in the door. Wow. I’ve never seen Ms. Dante this mad before. I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing. “News whore,” she mutters. Wow. She is not happy with Rico Tomas. “Katie.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dante?”
“Let Livvy have her hair back.”
I let go reluctantly and walk backward away from Red, still not trusting her entirely. She’s a whole lot of crazy.
“Ms. Dante, aren’t you going to do something about Katie? I mean, she tried to rip my hair out.” Red’s whining cuts through the room like a knife.
Ms. Dante looks at Red with icicles in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Livvy, what with all the ruckus caused by Mr. Tomas, I’m afraid I didn’t see who started what. Get back to working on your yearbook pages and mind your business.”
I want to melt like a puddle of gratefulness at Ms. Dante’s feet. She just bailed me out big time on so many levels, I don’t know where to start. I try to convey this as I glance up at her from my desk. I think she gets the message, as she gives me a nod and goes back to what she was doing like nothing monumental and crazy-as-crap just happened in her classroom. She blinks at Oliver, who stands in the middle of the room. “If you don’t have a legitimate reason to be here, please see yourself out.” I stare at my desk as he passes by on his way to the door.
The first hour bell finally rings, and Mrs. Dante is the first one out the door. She scans the hallways like a hall monitor/cop. I appreciate her protectiveness, but I think I’ve recovered from the shock. I’m ready to step outside the room and go on with my day.
Oliver steps up, looking all protective and concerned. I tell myself to be nice; he’s only trying to console me. He takes my hand, and we go to my locker and then on to the next hour. For the rest of the day, he stays extra close.
By the end of the day, I’m so ready to go to work. I drive home with Oliver in tow. I run in the house to tell mom what happened, and she’s sitting there having coffee with Rico Thomas.
I feel so violated and betrayed. How could my mom let that snake into our home? Has she no judgment at all? I march over to her and ignore him completely.
“Mom, I need to speak with you. Now.” I yank her into the laundry room and slam the door. “What the heck are you doing, Mom, talking to him of all people? I thought we hate Rico Tomas! Did you know he showed up at my school and took pictures of me trying to scalp a girl in my first hour class? Luckily, my teacher defended me and made him hand over the pictures, which is more loyalty than you are showing me right now! I can’t believe you let him into our home.”
Mom stands here with a patience that grates on my nerves. “Are you done, Katie?”
I sigh. “I guess so. Yeah.”
My mom starts talking again. “I invited Rico here, to our home. I haven’t given him any information. We’ve only been making small talk about the weather and how our move to Ohio has gone. Yes, he asked why you weren’t playing basketball. I told him it was a personal decision. That’s it. Nothing scandalous, nothing gossip-worthy. So you can calm down. You may think that your mom is all angelic and naïve, but I’m not that stupid. I’ve read every article that man has ever written. I know what he’s about.”
I sigh again. “Fine. But you know I hate his stinking guts. And I’m not talking to him. I gotta get to work.”
“I’ll take care of your daughter, Ms. Albright. Don’t worry.” Oliver speaks through the door. While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m capable of taking care of myself, which I open the door to tell him so, but my mother squeezes my arm on the way, conveying to me to “humor him and let him be there for you”. Ugh. Fine. Given the day’s events, I suppose I should be happy Oliver’s still talking to me. After all, I did try to scalp his ex-girlfriend. And, given the recent kissing between me and Israel, I get why Oliver wants to go to work with me today. Blahhh.
Fine. I’ll just pretend this is a normal day like any other. I run past him to go upstairs and get my ballet slippers that I now wear to work since going barefoot is a health code violation.
Oliver and I run back out the front door to head for the cupcake shoppe. Apparently, mom isn’t the only one who watches the daily news. I walk into Fernando’s version of a basketball court. I tell myself that he is only being nice when I see today’s cupcakes all have basketballs on them.
I’m a little sad because I feel like Fernando has reigned in his artistic touch and dulled it by making these sports cupcakes that are so not him. I tell myself to be grateful. He throws his arms wide. “Katie! My basketball star!” He grabs me and stands on tiptoe to kiss both my cheeks and I get a big hug. Oh wow.
“Thank you, Fernando. I appreciate your support.” I go to the back to choose a Princess dress, wanting some part of this day to be just like any other. Nope. Somehow, somewhere, Fernando has dug up a jersey and athletic shorts? Noooo. He holds them out to me like a trophy.
“Mira aqui! I get this for you!! Try it on!” He claps his hands at me like Esmerelda usually does. I didn’t realize how much I detested wearing jerseys until now. I’d rather serve cupcakes in my birthday suit. Almost.
I take it with a smile on my face and step in the bathroom to change. What I thought would happen, doesn’t. Instead of dread filling me when I feel the jersey on my skin, all of the joys of every fantastic moment in every game rush me. I thought I’d feel trapped, but it’s quite the opposite. I go out to the shoppe and perform my duties as usual.
Before too long, a realization settles in that cannot be denied. I’m performing all my duties with an unusual amount of grace. So weird, and yet so fitting. It must be the jersey. Maybe I’ll start wearing this jersey under all my dresses from now on. I giggle at the thought.
Oliver sits in the corner quietly doing his homework during my shift. Every once in a while, the little one wanders by his table, peeking at him through the corner of her eyes, but never looking fully at him. She’s so shy, and it’s adorable! She must want something because she hovers like a little hummingbird. Oliver doesn’t say anything, but he scoots a chair backward a little at a time until it’s sitting there, waiting to be occupied. She says nothing in return.
She just sits herself down and gets out her little drawing pad. My heart melts at the sight of Oliver doing his homework at the table with the quiet one and her drawing pad. He really is a sweetheart. Pretty soon, I see him ask her a question about her art. Her little face lights up and she answers in her little sing-song voice. I get caught up in their conversation for a few seconds.
“Awww. Isn’t that cute? He’s just the sweetest…” I hear Israel’s voice behind me.
I turn around and punch him in the arm. “Well, I think he’s just the best..” Israel makes gagging gestures. I’m not done torturing him. “And we’re in love, and I’m going to drop out of school and have his baby.” Israel’s eyes bug out of his head. I slap him again. “Dude! You should see your face.. I was kidding.. How stupid do you think I am? I’m just messing with you..” Israel’s face doesn’t change. I turn around.
Oh, crap balls. Oliver heard our entire conversation. How does the boy sneak up on me and always hear me at the most inopportune times? He coughs. I nervously laugh. “You know I’m kidding, right? All I’m saying is I have future plans, and they don’t include dropping out of school.” Oliver smirks at me. Turd Burglar. “You just love watching me flounder, don’t you?” He bats his eyes at me. He knows I’m a sucker for his eyes.
Finally, he speaks. “You struggle so well. You’re like the queen of awkward situations. You just keep running that mouth of yours…” He gives me a hot stare and I stop breathing for a few seconds. He knows what he’s doing. He side hugs me, draws me against him, and kisses my head. “But I don’t get bored.”
I slug Oliver in the ribs. “Gee, thanks. I’m so glad I can be your entertainment.” He brushes his hand down the side of me and mini-squeezes my butt. That gets my attention. I clear my throat. “I gotta get back to work.”
The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. Right before closing time, Rico Tomas walks in. Barf. I see him and make a beeline for the back of the cupcake shoppe. Oliver follows me. He leaves Fernando and Esmerelda out front. I busy myself in the back, cleaning furiously out of stress and annoyance. I can’t stand Rico Tomas. Why did he have to choose me to follow around? Why he can’t just find someone else? I’m obviously not playing sports this year.
Oliver watches me in silence for a while. “You know, you could just go out there and talk to him and then maybe he’d go away.” I toss down my cleaning cloth at his suggestion.
I step closer to Oliver and whisper-shout, “I don’t want to talk to him! Don’t you think it’s weird he came all the way from Florida to Ohio? I mean, I’m not NBA material. I’m a high school girl who played basketball, and now I don’t.”
“Well, you could ask him why he’s really here. See what he says.” He touches my elbow. “You could be NBA material, Katie. You have a pretty impressive record.”
I should be flattered, but I’m just plain angry. “The guy is social media personified. He’s a user. He’ll take my words and twist them into some dramatic story, because that’s what he does. When I lived in Florida, he wrote an article questioning my sexuality. I don’t want to talk to the guy.”
That gets Oliver’s attention. “Um, why would he be thinking you might not be straight? And what does that have to do with your ability to play basketball?”
“I had a teammate, a Russian girl named Nadia. We were friends. The day of the Championship was just like Murphy’s law. I found my dad in a closet at work cheating with his receptionist, so I left all upset. I went to the arcade and confided in Nadia, because I didn’t know what to do, and I had to talk to someone. After we won the championship, she kissed me on the court.
“I was shocked and didn’t know what to do, so I hid. Nadia cornered me in the hallway. At the same time, my dad’s new girlfriend’s sister gave me crap about the kiss, so I slapped the crap out of her and knocked her down. It was just all very, very, bad timing. Pair that with the fact that Rico followed me around on the worst day of my life, and then he had the nerve to post it all on social media,”
I bunch up my fists, “so then I had to relive my personal train wreck all over again.” My eyes water. “In front of everyone.”
“It was just a big mess, Oliver, and Rico was a witness to it, and instead of burying it, he exposed me. He exposed my life and my mistakes for everyone to see. After that, I wanted nothing to do with basketball, my dad, or Florida. I just wanted to get away. When I moved here, I wanted a fresh new start, anywhere away from the one man who stole my privacy.
“And I didn’t want you to know my past unless I told you, and I certainly didn’t want it spread around the school by Livvy, who’s still totally chasing you.” I stare Oliver down. “For the record, this is not a conversation I wanted to have. But like everything else, it’s being forced out by Rico, the newswhore, showing up in Ohio.”
Oliver looks at the floor for a while. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in. That’s like a lot for you to handle. What he did was really rotten. Maybe he’s coming down to apologize to you; for you know, all that stuff.”
I snort. “I seriously doubt Rico is here for an apology. He’s after a story, just like Ms. Dante says.” I kick the floor. “I don’t care why he’s here. I just want him to leave.”
Oliver takes my hand. “Well, do you mind if I talk to him, then?”
“I guess not. Don’t say one word about me. I don’t want other people answering questions to Rico about me.”
Oliver nods his head. “Okay. I won’t say one word about you, except I might ask him if he has the two girls kissing picture. Nadia, was she, like, a Hot Russian?” Oliver winks at me. What a brat. He walks back to the front of the store. I peek out. Yep. Rico Tomas is still out there. I’m so done. I go through the back door and run upstairs to Israel’s art room to hide.