A Snitch in the Snob Squad (4 page)

You know how when you rent a horse to go horseback riding, and all it ever does is head back to the barn? Think of my ball
as the horse, and the gutter as the barn. By the fifth frame I had a score of zero. Vanessa got lucky once. Her score was
three.

When Mom hit her third strike in five frames, I could feel Dad bristle. Then Vanessa shrieked, “Oh, my God!” She whipped her
head around and whispered into my shoulder, “I know him. Don’t let him see me.”

I peered around her. Three people were coming toward us. Vanessa thought
she
was in trouble. Two of them,
I
knew.

W
hen our eyes connected, Prairie called, “Hey, Jenny.” She waved her free hand. The other hand was held by Hugh. He grinned
at me.

Prairie hobbled down to our lane, with Hugh in tow. Thank God Kevin wasn’t with them. Kevin and Hugh were sort of friends,
but only because they shared an interest in computers (not to mention members of the Snob Squad).

I don’t know why I was shocked to see Prairie and Hugh. I knew Hugh’s favorite sport was bowling. Before the spring fling,
when Prairie told us she liked Hugh Torkerson and we decided it was our duty to get Hugh to ask her to the dance, Lydia had
concocted this phony survey—a questionnaire to find out a bunch of stuff about Hugh so that we could devise a plan. One of
the questions was, “What is your favorite sport?” And Hugh had answered, “Bowling.”

Basketball is a sport. Baseball is a sport. Even badminton is a sport, sort of. But bowling? There was a reason Hugh was known
as Tork the Dork.

“I didn’t know you liked to b-bowl,” Prairie said to me.

I saw Hugh studying the scoreboard. “It’s my first time,” I said quickly.

“Mine, too.” Prairie smiled demurely. “Hugh’s going to teach me.” She beamed up at him.

I couldn’t take my eyes off their intertwined fingers. The closest Kevin’s hand had come to mine was the M&M’s exchange. It
made me wonder if Prairie had ordered her wedding cake.

“Hugh and his cousin Bruce are on a team,” Prairie added.

“In a bowling league,” Bruce said, stepping out from behind Hugh.

Pummel me with a nine pin. Bruce was probably Vanessa’s age. He must’ve been the one she recognized. Bruce was also as far
from a nerd as any guy could get. Jet black hair with sky blue eyes, his huge muscles bulged out of his cutoff denim shirt.
Hugh still had his pocket protector in.

“Notice anything different about me?” Prairie said.

I scanned her. She looked radiant. The way she always did around Hugh. Without thinking, I blurted, “You grew a foot?”

Prairie looked stunned.

Oh, man. Talk about insensitive. Prairie wears a prosthesis because she was born with a deformed foot. “I, I meant—”

She cut me off with a giggle. “Jenny,” she said as she kicked my bowling shoe with her prosthesis. She said, “No, silly. Here.”
She brushed back the hair over her left ear. In the fluorescent light, something sparkled.

“Prairie!” I jumped up. My hand automatically reached over to touch her earring. It was a half moon; the other half was on
the other ear. “Is it—are they—real gold?”

“Fourteen karat,” Hugh said as he puffed out his pocket protector.

“Hugh gave them to me,” Prairie said.

“Well, I didn’t think Bugs Bunny did.”

Prairie laughed. Hugh didn’t get it. “Karats?” I repeated. “Bunny?”

“Oh,” he snorkled.

What, I wondered for the trillionth time, did she see in him?

Prairie said, “It’s an anniversary present.”

Anniversary? They’d only been together since the dance.

As if reading my mind, Prairie added, “Our one-week anniversary.”

Wow, if she got gold after a week, what would she get for the entire month of May?

I was in awe. I was jealous. Kevin hadn’t gotten up to gift giving, and I didn’t know if he ever would.

“Ashley, your turn,” Dad said.

Still staring at Prairie’s earrings, I said, “You take it, Dad. You need the practice.”

Wrong thing to say. Mom laughed.

“Is Ashley here?” Prairie peered around me.

“No,” I said, then freaked. “I hope not.” My eyes scanned the bowling alley to be sure. The whole school would know my score
by Monday with her gutter mouth. “I’m Ashley,” I told Prairie and Hugh. “I’m not, really. It’s just for tonight.”

They both looked vacant.

“Never mind.”

From the scoring station, Mom called, “You’re leading with your wrong foot, Robert. That’s your problem.”

Dad’s spine went rigid. He threw the ball and it bounced. Right into the gutter.

Mom said, “Try starting over to the right a little. Use the lane arrows.”

Dad turned and smiled. It wasn’t a friendly “Gosh, honey, thanks for the advice” smile, either. Under his breath, he snarled,
“I’ll lead with any damn foot I want.”

Storming back to the table, he spilled his beer and cursed real loud.

I cringed. Vanessa dug her head deeper into her bush bag.

“She’s right, you know,” Hugh said. “He should lead with his left.”

Prairie must’ve sensed my father’s imminent implosion because she yanked Hugh away. “We b-better get going,” she said. “Bruce
is getting impatient.”

Bruce was getting a date. He stood behind a girl on the next lane over, showing her how to swing the ball. Maybe if Mom used
that approach on Dad….

Crraack!
Mom rolled another strike. She started to shriek, then saw the look on Dad’s face and shrugged.

It was a fabulously fun family night. Fortunately no one captured it on film for the Solano Moments to Remember family album.
Which we’d start someday.

N
ot only was family night a bust, it made me miss Kevin’s phone call. There were three messages on the machine. Two hang-ups,
which had to be Kevin because I’d know his hang-ups anywhere, and Lydia. “Jenny, call me immediately!” She sounded desperate.
So what else is new? “Don’t call after nine, though. My mom doesn’t allow me to talk on the phone after nine.”

She only told me this every other day. I checked my watch. Nine-twenty. Great. Guess I’d have to wait till morning to see
what the emergency was.

I tried calling Lydia the next morning. No answer. All weekend I kept trying. It made me mad because I never heard from Kevin
either. I figured he was trying to call me while I was dialing Lydia. Which I could’ve confirmed if Dad didn’t believe call
waiting was too rude to use. Whatever. Lydia was ruining my love life.

That’s what dieting does to me. Makes me irritable and irrational. No doubt I missed Kevin’s calls because Vanessa was constantly
gabbing on the phone with her new friend, Phoebe the flautist.

“I need my own phone,” I informed Mom and Dad at dinner. “I’m missing all my important calls.” In a moment of brilliance,
I added, “And you’re missing yours, because I’m tying up the only phone in the house.”

“That’s the truth,” Vanessa said.

I couldn’t decide if I should sneer or thank her for her support.

In unison, Mom and Dad glanced up and barked, “No!”

It made me back off quick. They were still steamed about family fun night. Good thing they had marriage counseling on Monday.
Van met my eyes. She was obviously wondering the same thing I was: Would they stay married till then?

As soon as I stepped off the bus Monday morning, Lydia attacked me. “I talked to Max on Saturday and she sounded really depressed.
I think we should meet at the Peacemobile and see what’s going on with her.”

The Peacemobile was our secret meeting place. It was an old rusted-out VW minivan that belonged to Max’s brother, Scuzz-Gut.
The van was parked in his used auto parts establishment behind their house.

“Did she say if she took the money?”

“Jenny!” Lydia slapped my arm. “I didn’t ask her.”

“Scared of the answer, huh?”

Lydia smirked.

“I’m just kidding. We all know who did it,” I said.

“We do?” Through her glasses, Lydia’s eyes magnified.

“Of course. Ashley.” I repeated the conversation I’d overheard on Friday.

Lydia shook her head. “That sounds like the kind of asinine remark she’d make.”

“You mean it sounds like the kind of incriminating remark she’d make. No way Mr. Krupps could blow off something like this.
I mean, stealing from a teacher? That’s got to be a felony or something. Remind me to ask Max.”

Lydia giggled and slapped me again.

“If only we could prove Ashley did it,” I said.

Lydia nodded slowly. “If only.” As we walked past the bike racks, she turned to me. “I found out how much was stolen. Eighty-five
dollars.”

My eyes bulged. “Geez.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, one of the things.”

“I tried to call you all weekend,” I told her. “Where were you?”

Lydia replied, “My mom had to give this talk at some church retreat and she was leaving Saturday night. She said I couldn’t
come so I had to stay with my day care provider.”

Your baby-sitter, you mean. I didn’t say it.

“I wanted to stay with you instead.”

“You could have. I didn’t do anything all weekend.” Besides make the
Guinness Book of World Records
for lowest bowling score ever and camp out by the phone waiting for Kevin to call.

“Can we meet after school today?” Lydia asked.

“Fine by me,” I said. “Where’s Prairie?”

“With Hugh, of course. Over by the bleachers. Probably making out.”

“No way.”

“You saw what he got her for their anniversary, didn’t you?” Lydia rolled her eyes.

Okay, way. But I didn’t say it; didn’t even want to think it.

Kevin materialized from under the stands and Lydia said in a sing-song, “Here comes
your
lover boy. Kiss kiss.”

“Shut up.” I elbowed her hard enough to break a rib.

“Hey, Jen,” Kevin said.

“Hey,” I said back casually, even though my heart was hammering hip-hop.

“Hi, Kevie,” Lydia said. “Whatcha got?”

He stopped in front of us, hiding something behind his back. His eyes held on Lydia, like she had a festering scab on her
nose. “Could I see you for a minute?” He blinked over to me.

“Take a hint, Lyd,” I said, not taking my eyes off Kevin.

Beside me, Lydia bristled. “I just remembered something I have to do. Something more important than being with my best friend.”

“Better go, then,” I said.

In a huff, Lydia stormed off.

Feeling guilty, I called, “See you later, Lyd. In like two minutes.”

Kevin murmured, “I thought she’d never leave.”

I laughed. Okay, it wasn’t that funny, but his nearness was making me giddy.

“I called you Friday night, but no one was home,” he said. “And I had baseball camp all weekend.”

See? I know his buzz on the machine. “Yeah, we had this family thing on Friday.” I made a face. After we got married, I’d
fill him in on my family. No sense jeopardizing the union at this stage.

“Drag.” He scraped a foot across the gravel. Without warning, he whipped his hand out from behind his back and handed me a
box. It was a little square white box covered in comics newspaper, then taped all over. “I’m not too good a wrapper,” he said.

He was so adorable. Patient, too. The box was wrapped tight as a Tootsie Roll. It took me about ten minutes to dig off one
little strip. Finally Kevin drew out a Swiss Army knife from his front jeans pocket and slit the bottom. Since knives were
highly illegal at school, he quickly hid it.

I opened the box and gasped. Inside was a pair of earrings. Like Prairie’s, except mine were gold hearts. “Oh, my God!” I
blinked up at him. “Are these for me?”

“No, they’re for Lydia. Could you give them to her?”

I whapped his arm.

He asked, “You want me to help you put them on?”

Goosebumps prickled my whole body. The thought of him touching me… “Uh, sure.” I shivered.

While Kevin fiddled with a clasp on one of the posts, I removed my other earrings. They were fake pearls that I bought at
Dollar Daze when I was eight. “I went with Hugh to pick out earrings for Prairie, and I didn’t want you to be jealous,” Kevin
said.

He didn’t want me to be jealous? How sweet.

Kevin squinted as he took aim at my ear. His fingers on my earlobe made it tingle. He poked me and frowned. “Sorry,” he said,
stepping back. “This makes me kind of nervous.”

“That’s okay. I can put them on easier myself.” Expertly I felt around and stuck the posts through my holes. “Be thankful
it’s not my nose that’s pierced.”

He laughed.

The bell rang. We hustled toward the trailer. Halfway there, we met up with Prairie and Hugh. Prairie noticed first. “Jenny,
you got…”

I brushed my hair aside. “Just like yours.”

“Neato,” Hugh said.

I looked at Prairie. She was gazing up at Hugh as if she was witnessing the reincarnation of Hercules. Love is blind. Apparently
deaf and dumb, too.

Hugh said to Kevin, “Did you tell Jenny we got a great deal? Fifty dollars a pair, or two for seventy-nine dollars and ninety-nine
cents. Plus tax.”

“Hugh!” Kevin shoved him. He shook his head at Hugh, like he was a hopeless case, which he was.

But my eyes popped out of their sockets. Seventy-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents? Where would Kevin and Hugh get… my stomach
lurched. No way. I fought the thought. Forget it. Not Kevin. Not ever, never, never.

W
e settled into our places in the Peacemobile—Lydia, Prairie, and me on the saggy flowered sofa, and Max in her beanbag chair.
As I passed around a bag of Orville Redenbacher’s popcorn cakes, I thought, Something’s different about Max. Out of place.

“These things taste like Styrofoam,” Lydia said, sticking out her tongue.

“They have to,” I replied. “They’re diet food. You’re not supposed to enjoy them.” I crunched into a cake, wishing I had a
case of Coke to wash it down.

Max crossed one foot over her knee, and that’s when it struck me. “Max, you got your shoes!”