In Between (31 page)

“Nothing broken?” Sam grabs my arm and flops it around.

I pull my arm back into the warmth of the blanket and shake my head. I catch Charlie’s eye. Okay, so my pride’s a little fractured. Can’t wait to hear this story circulating around the halls of In Between High.

And where is Maxine? I risk my life for her, and she bails on me?

“Katie, this is Trudy Marple.”

Trudy’s chin falls in a single nod.

“And this is her grandson, Charlie. You may know him from school.”

Charlie, tending to the cocoa, pushes his brown, wavy hair out of his eyes, and smiles. “So, you didn’t mention how you came to be floating in Grandma’s pool.”

Oh, didn’t I?

“Yes, any particular reason you decided to climb up my tree and belly flop into my backyard?” Trudy inches a step closer.

I juggle excuses in my head. I was chasing a squirrel? I was testing the laws of gravity for a science project? I wanted to try out a new dive I call “Belly-Buster Katie”? I can’t think! How am I going to get out of this?

“Ohhh, my head . . .” I squeeze my eyes shut and conjure a moan.

Sam picks me up and has me cradled in his arms before I can add any more sound effects. “I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

No! Now what? If I see Maxine Simmons ever again in this lifetime, I’m gonna—

Ding-dong!

“Open the door, Trudy, I’m taking this girl to see a doctor.”

Ding-dong!

Trudy, glad to be rid of me, runs ahead of us and flings open the door.

“Maxine?”

Opening an eye, I see Maxine standing in the doorway, blocking our exit.

“Avon calling!”

For an instant Maxine’s eyes go wide at the sight of me in my drowned state, draped over Sam’s arms. She schools her features as if I’m of no concern. “Well,
there
you are, Katie. My goodness. One moment we’re doing a little bird watching, and the next thing I know, Katie’s runs off, yelling she’s spotted an African Hairy Woodpecker, and then—” Maxine snaps her fingers. “Poof! She was gone.” She smiles at Trudy. “Kids today, eh?”

Still carrying me, Sam closes in on Maxine and growls. “Maxine, what is all this about?”

Maxine sputters. “How dare you ask
me
what this is all about! You . . . you . . .”

“What are you doing here?”

Maxine throws both hands over her heart. “What am
I
doing here? What about
you
?”

Sam takes a step closer.

“Don’t you come near me! In fact, give me this girl.”

With the strength of the Amazon she is, Maxine claws Sam’s hands from me, and before I can catch myself, I’m flat on my back on Trudy Marple’s Berber carpet.

Ow.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Maxine makes no move to help me up.

Sam is so lost in the brewing argument, that he, too, ignores me. I watch the dueling seniors from the floor until Trudy’s grandson walks over, a smile dancing on his lips, and extends a hand. I can’t even look at him as he pulls me to my feet, his fingers wrapped around mine.

“Thank you.” I cough, my lungs no doubt still filled with water and bug carcasses. “But I had it under control.”

Charlie’s eyes roam over my dripping hair, my face that has to be make-up streaked, my right foot missing a shoe. “I can tell.”

“You sent Katie up that tree to spy on me, didn’t you?”

Maxine’s mouth opens and shuts like a guppy. “If I am associating with someone of questionable integrity, I have a right to know. I will not defend my actions!”

“Questionable integrity!” Sam’s face glows beet red. “Are you completely insane?”

“I’d like to answer that—” I chime in, but Maxine shoots me a withering look, and I clamp my mouth shut.

“Come on, Katie. We’re leaving.”

“Now, you wait just a pea-picking minute—”

“No,
you
wait, Samuel Dayberry. I’ve been on your trail for days. You come sneaking over here and make me think you and Trudy Marple are all hooched up. And then Katie and I happen to be in the neighborhood, and what does this child see?” Maxine throws her arm around me. “You, doing the cha-cha with some boy.”

“This boy”—Sam points to a mortified Charlie—“is Trudy’s grandson. And he’s teaching me how to dance. Do you get it yet? Is it
clear
to you?”

Quiet descends on the room.

Maxine smiles and bats her eyelashes. “Well . . . I never meant to imply anything indecent was going on.”

“I was trying to learn how to dance, so I wouldn’t embarrass you when I asked you to dance at the Harvest Ball, but forget it. You just saved me from two more weeks of torturous lessons. I’m through with it. And with us.”

“Now, Sam—”

“Goodbye, Maxine.”

Maxine spits and sputters. “Well. . . well, you just wait a minute. I’m breaking up with you too! Let the record show you didn’t break up with me first! We broke up with each other simultaneously and—”

Slam!

The door shuts. With Maxine and I standing outside of it. On the front stoop.

“An African Hairy Woodpecker?”

Maxine purses her lips. “It’s the best I could do under pressure.”

Despite nearly meeting my death, I feel a twinge of pity. “Sorry about Sam. He might’ve been a little harsh.”

She laughs. “Please, I’m an old pro. I’ve got Sam right where I want him.”

We walk down the road, my shoes squishing with every step. “You have no idea how to get out of this one, do you?”

Maxine sniffs. “Not a clue.”

“C
ongratulations on another
successful day of not passing out in biology.”

I dig around in my lunch sack for my sandwich and scan the cafeteria. “Yeah, I’ve yet to be able to recreate that moment. It did get me out of class.”

Frances grins. “It was kind of gross today when Mr. Hughes knocked Josh Palmer’s pig off the table.”

“Totally disgusting. I thought Mr. Hughes was going to start bawling.”

Frances and I giggle until she’s snorting.

As my friend focuses on her fries, my mind goes to James, Millie, and the Valiant. I wish I could snap my fingers and make it all better for my foster parents. I don’t see any way that theatre is going to be finished by the opening. I wish Millie would just postpone it. Every day we get a little more done. But I have no less guilt.

“Earth to Katie. Hello?” Frances waves a hand in front of my face. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Um”—I smile sheepishly—“you said I’m the best science partner you ever had?”

“Nice try. What’s up with you? You’ve been like this all week.”

How do I explain the extent to which my life stinks right now? “Things are just really stressful at my house.”

Frances steals one of my carrot sticks, which I am more than happy to share. “Like between the Scotts?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. It’s the theatre. It has to be done for the opening night, but it’s just not possible. And it’s my fault, you know?”

“It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of those people you were hanging out with. You didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“But it did. And I was there.” I shake my head. “We’re running out of time.”

Frances pops another carrot in her mouth. “So tell me what you need to fix this.”

I laugh, though nothing is funny. “A miracle.”

My friend smiles. “Guess you’d better start praying for one. I mean, God is in the miracle business, you know.”

“That’s what I hear.” Like it’s just as easy as that.

“Hey, Frances.”

Frances looks beyond me. “Oh, hi, Charlie.”

All the noises in the cafeteria fade away and thoughts of the Valiant dissolve as Charlie’s name echoes in my head. Oh, no. This is where Trudy Marple’s grandson tells Frances and everyone else at In Between what a freak I am. How I climb up in trees and spy on complete strangers like a perv.

“Charlie, do you know Katie?”

Though I’m tempted to be rude and ignore him, I’m forced to turn around and acknowledge Charlie.

“Katie, nice to . . . meet you.”

I clasp his outstretched hand to shake, but I don’t return his mischievous smile.

“Are you new here?” He acts like we’ve never laid eyes on each other, as if he didn’t see me facedown in a pool full of algae just two days ago. “Perhaps you’ve just. . . dropped in?”

Frances kicks me under the table. “Katie’s been here a little over a month. Haven’t you?”

“Yeah. A month or so. But Charlie and I actually met—”

“In the hall the other day. I think we usually pass each other on the stairs right before second hour.” He smiles. “It’s good to put a name to the face.”

I’m suspicious, but I return his smile. “Yeah, you too.”

Charlie takes an empty seat next to Frances. “It’s so easy to get lost in the
pool
of faces.”

I choke on a carrot.

“Yeah, the school is getting pretty big.” Frances nods in agreement and offers our new tablemate a French fry.

“It’s like sometimes you could
drown
in all the people here, you know?”

I glare at Charlie and give him my best evil eye. I call it Evil Eye Number Twenty-seven. It’s just the right combination of eyebrow, nose wrinkling, and lip curl.

Two can play at this game.

“I guess for a small town your school is fairly large,” I say. “But the halls are so crowded it’s like you’re close enough to
dance
with someone.” Score one for Katie.

“We were just talking about overcrowding yesterday at the student council meeting.”

I ignore Frances and continue staring down the guy in front of me.

And then I get it.

He’s not going to rat me out and announce to the world I’m a Peeping Tom. Charlie’s afraid of me outing
him
for dancing with Sam Dayberry.

“Thanks for
waltzing
over here and introducing yourself, Charlie.” Hey, this is kind of fun, though I’m running out of material.

His cheeks turn as pink as Frances’s wool sweater. Frances becomes engrossed in conversation with the girl next to her, and Charlie gives me his full attention. “Just remember this, Katie Parker. I have cafeteria-lady connections. You tell anyone you saw me dancing with Sam, and you will never have a hair-free lunch again.”

His voice is low, for my ears only, and he barely holds on to his serious face.

I lean in. “Charlie.” I snap a carrot with my teeth. “Your cafeteria threats don’t scare me. I bring my lunch. If you want me to keep quiet about your little foxtrot with Sam, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He laughs quietly and considers his options. “How about I’ll forget what happened Tuesday, if you will.”

The boy smells so good, it’s all I can do not to sniff his arrogant air. “Did something happen Tuesday? I don’t seem to recall.”

Charlie stands up. His eyes hold mine, and my skin heats like a cafeteria fryer. “I’ll see you around, Katie Parker.”

I watch him walk away, a boy sure of his place in this town, this school. While his smile might be a work of art, I know boys like Charlie are not my type. He’s smart, preppy—and totally hot. The guys who like me usually have a few body piercings and a taste for cheap cigarettes.

And I’d do well to remember that.

When I walk
into the Valiant that afternoon I take a big, healthy breath, ready to confront Charlie’s dance partner.

I find him sitting on the lobby floor, absorbed in laying some tile.

“Hey, Sam. Broken any hearts lately?”

He jerks, and a small tile shoots out of his hand. “Blast it!”

Bending down, I pick up the stray piece. “You were pretty hard on Maxine yesterday.”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. Millie could show up any moment.” He wipes his hands on his work pants and gets to his feet. “A man has to face his reality. Maxine is either going to date me or she’s not, but her escapades have gone on for too long. It’s not the first time someone’s done her dirty work and crashed in a pool.”

“It’s not?”

Sam throws his cap on the floor. “I was being metaphorical!”

“Oh. Well, actually, Sam, a metaphor is a—”

“You know what I mean. She could’ve gotten you hurt—your neck broken. Maxine and I are a farce, and I’m done with it. I’m tired of the games. I’m too old for it.”

“Maxine’s totally devastated.”

He picks up his hat and eyes me warily. “You don’t mean it.”

“She talked about you the whole way home.”

Mostly she was describing all the painful ways she was going to get even with him the entire ride back.

“What did she . . . no, forget it. I don’t even want to know. We have work to do. We’re way behind schedule here, and we need to focus.”

I catch the glimmer of interest in his eyes, but let it go. He’s right. We are not going to be ready for the opening of the Valiant at the rate we’re going. It’s something that’s been keeping me up at night.

“Sam, what are we going to do? The theatre isn’t anywhere near ready for opening night. We have a week and a half left, and I’m scared it’s not gonna happen.”

His hand rests on my shoulder. “We’ve worked hard here, Katie. You’ve done a fine job. You need to be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”