Revenge of the Bully (7 page)

“Your friend here”—he motioned at Rishi—“ain't doing you no favors.”

Rishi spoke up excitedly. “I still say it will put you on the map.”

“It'll put me in the poorhouse!” the Boss shouted. “I'll go broke.”

I was completely confused. “Can somebody please tell me what's going on?”

“Sure,” the Boss growled, “I'll tell yuh. This little joker is about to cost me a boatload of money. He talked me into the dumbest thing I ever did. He said I should run a full-page ad for Mama's in tomorrow's daily paper. We sent it out right before da game.”

“What's so dumb about that?” I asked.

He was ready to explode. “What's so
dumb
? The ad promises that once we open, Mama's gotta give away a whole day of free food for each G-Men loss between tomorrow and the grand opening. That's still weeks away! I'll go out of business before we even get going.”

“Why did you agree to THAT?” I shouted, suddenly realizing that Rishi had just upped the pressure in my life by about a million percent.

The Boss looked just as panicked. “I
agreed
to this cockamamie plan—”

“Cockamamie!” Cheese interrupted. “Dat's a funny word.”

The Boss snapped his finger. Willy ran over and smacked Cheese on the head.

“Ow!”

The Boss continued, “I agreed to this cocka . . . this
crazy
plan because your dopey friend told me it was a lock! He said you's was the best football player in America or something.”

The two of us turned and faced Rishi. My “friend” was pacing in the corner of the locker room talking on his phone. After a minute he hung up and walked over to us. “I've got good news and bad news.”

“What's the bad news?” I asked, wondering whether I'd ever see my family again.

“The paper's already gone to press for tomorrow. The ad is running. There's nothing we can do to stop it.”

We all looked at each other. “Yeah?” the Boss finally asked. “So what's the good news?”

Rishi smiled proudly. “I was able to get us great placement. We're on the back cover. Everyone from here to Cleveland will see it tomorrow, Mr. Boss.”

Without warning, the Boss kicked the lockers so hard that Cheese and Willy jumped as high as Rishi and me. “Don't call me Mr. Boss!” he yelled at Rishi. Then he glared in my direction. “You better make sure dat team of yours don't lose no more games.”

“But the G-Men haven't won in like a hundred years!” I tried to explain.

“Then go out and hire a hundred coaches. I don't care if you gotta drop out of school and train the team round the clock. No more losses, ya got it? And you,” he shouted, returning his anger to Rishi, “you'd better make me lots of money with all your marketing stuff.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Boss.”

Willy and Cheese cringed. I wanted to jump in a locker and hide. The Boss stared down at Rishi and took a deep breath. Finally he just shook his head. “Let's go, boys.”

The three of them left. Rishi stood smiling at me. “Wow.”

“Wow?” I fought off an urge to strangle him. “What were you thinking with that ad?”

Still smiling, he put his hands up. “Rodney, relax. You're talking to Rishi, remember? Have I ever put you in a bad spot?”

My face felt funny and I wondered if I was developing a twitch like my old teacher, Mrs. Lutzkraut. Rishi continued, “Don't let the Boss's temper get you worked up. We're right where we want to be.”

“I want to be home—safe, sound, and watching TV.”

“Come on, I know you're enjoying this as much as me. Besides, you'll be famous after tomorrow.”

“Listen, Rishi, I . . .” Suddenly my face definitely began to twitch. “Famous? Rishi, what did you do . . . ?”

“Well the ad needed a picture to go along with the part about the G-Men, so I kind of used a photo of you.”

My heart stopped. “Not the one from camp of me in a dress!”

Rishi laughed. “No, a good one I took of you at practice. Boy, Rodney, you have to learn to trust me.”

Trust Rishi? I couldn't think of anything scarier if I tried.

Chapter 8

GARRETTSVILLE IDOL

“Rodney, get up!” my dad yelled, pushing open my door. “It's a wonderful morning!”

“Huh?” I yawned.

“Hurry! Get dressed and come down to breakfast.”

I hadn't seen him this excited since he found out Garrettsville had a Dairy Queen. “What's the rush?” I asked.

“Rush?” he echoed back. “I've been waiting all morning for you to get up.”

I was about to ask why but he was gone in a flash. I pulled on my jeans and a T-shirt and shuffled down the stairs. Penny pushed her way past me going up the stairs. She looked glum.

“Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. It's all I hear.” She turned at the top of the stairs. “We both know this popularity stuff isn't going to last.”

She seemed even more annoyed at me than usual. What had set her off? I rounded into the kitchen and found the answer. My mom and dad were staring at a newspaper on the kitchen table. “Isn't this exciting?” my mom gushed without taking her eyes from the paper.

“Isn't what exciting?” I started to ask but my dad interrupted me.

“Put on some shoes. We've got to head down to the newsstand before they're all gone!”

“Before
what's
all gone?”

“This!”

He held up the back page of the newspaper. A familiar-looking kid in a black-and-gold football uniform stared back at me. I took a step closer and saw there was a reason the kid's face looked familiar. It was
me
! Taking up almost the whole page! In the picture I held my helmet in the crook of my arm. Several of my teammates were small and out of focus in the background but I was as large and sharp as could be. My hair was wet with sweat and I was staring off, looking serious and confident. Storm clouds hung dramatically low over the horizon. I definitely looked the part of football hero . . . I'd give Rishi that.

My mom was smiling proudly. “You look so handsome and grown up. And look, the caption says, ‘Rodney Rathbone, G-Men Football Star.' I want to mail a copy to Aunt Evelyn. Go with your dad and get some more. Hurry!”

Sunday mornings are usually a quiet time at my house but today everyone was telling me to hurry. I ran down the driveway after my father. He was almost pulling away as I jumped in. “Be sure to get plenty of copies!” my mom called after us.

As my dad and I drove downtown I kept thinking about the full-page ad in my hands. What would this mean for me? Yes, it was pretty cool to see myself occupying the back page of the newspaper, but what would happen in school? What would the rest of the team think of me being singled out? I knew that Trevor wouldn't appreciate it. Just last night I had come to the conclusion that I needed Trevor more than ever if we were going to win the next few games.

Win the next few games
. I was so caught up in the picture of me that I had forgotten about the Boss. My stomach tightened into a knot. For the first time I let my eyes drift down to the writing below the photo:

WE GUARANTEE THAT G-MEN FOOTBALL WINS EVERY GAME BETWEEN NOW AND THE GRAND OPENING . . . OR DINNER'S ON US!

It was signed,
THE GANG AT MAMA'S RESTAURANT
.

I gulped as my dad pulled into a spot. He was in a rush to get out of the car but I lingered, thinking that my sister had been right earlier. Thanks to Rishi's dumb ad, everything would be coming to an end real soon for me.

Unless, of course, no one paid attention to it! A wave of relief suddenly washed over me. How silly I had been. The rest of Garrettsville probably wouldn't even notice the ad.

“There he is!” someone screamed. “It's Rodney Rathbone!”

“I saw him first,” another voice chimed in. They were all holding newspapers.

My dad stood outside the car and held up his hands to the gathering crowd. “People, people, calm down. There's plenty of Rodney for everyone.”

What? As I slid down in the seat I heard him continue, “I just spoke to Rodney's agent this morning and there will be a formal autograph session this afternoon. In the meantime, the father of the football star would be very happy to sign your newspapers!”

His smile stretched from ear to ear. At least one Rathbone was enjoying himself.

Any hopes that the advertisement would go unnoticed in school the next day were dashed before I even had a chance to walk through the front doors. Standing on the steps, quite near where my horrible, hated football career had begun, I was met by Rishi handing out newspapers to a throng of students.

I was about to yell at him when my worries were replaced by an unexpectedly pleasant surprise. Fifteen or so girls stood clearly waiting for me. “I like your picture, Rodney,” said one girl who I didn't even know. I think she was blushing. My pulse quickened. My mom had said I looked handsome, but moms always say that.

“Errr, thanks,” I replied.

“Can you sign mine?” asked another girl.

I liked the attention, but then I saw Jessica among the group and my knees buckled. A number of hands helped prop me back up. I regained my composure as our eyes met. My face got hot and I smiled at her.

Kayla stepped between us. My smile sagged. “Don't think some fancy camera work and media attention is going to get you anywhere,” she scolded. “We know what you're all about. Don't we, Jessica. Jessica?”

Jessica stepped around her and returned my smile. “I don't want to be late for class. We'll be at your next game, Rodney.”

What? Really? Wow! I love football! I felt dizzy. The day was actually turning out really good.

For some of us. Kayla, on the other hand, stamped her foot and I noticed her face redden. She turned to follow Jessica but Rishi sprang up in her way. “So you think my camera work is fancy?”

“Grrrrrrgghhhhhhhh!” She roughly pushed past him.

“Yup, she likes me,” he said to me. “Maybe I'll ask her out to Mama's. With all the great PR work I've done for him, I bet the Boss would let us eat for free.”

“For free?” I shouted. “You and everyone else in Ohio will be eating for free! There's no way the G-Men can win a football game, and besides, what ‘great PR'? He hates both of us right now. Remember that little meeting in the locker room on Saturday?”

“Rodney, he's just excitable. Everything's going perfectly.”

“Perfectly?”

“Yeah, perfectly. He just offered us another twenty dollars each to put up more flyers around town. Where else can we make that kind of money?”

I had to admit he had a point, but there was a problem. I knew my mom and dad wouldn't want me hanging around someone like the Boss, and they definitely wouldn't want me taking money from him. I had decided not to tell them . . . for now.

Suddenly Rishi uttered words I never thought I'd hear leave his mouth. “Anyway, Rodney, money isn't everything.” I realized he wasn't joking when he added, “Just look around you.”

I did. Everyone was happy and smiling. A couple of students were still waiting patiently for my autograph. Maybe Rishi was right. Maybe he
did
know what he was doing.

“And don't forget,” he added, “I'm the one doing the heavy lifting around here. You have it easy. I even let you skip yesterday's autograph session. All
you
have to do is win a few football games. Now, which way did Kayla go?”

I didn't notice. For a split second I had locked eyes with Trevor—the one person who had me worried. And judging from the look on his face I had every reason to be concerned. “Talk to you later, Rishi,” I said. If he replied I didn't hear him. I had to take care of something important.

Trevor never walked straight to class in the morning. He would visit his office first, otherwise known as the second-floor bathroom. Today was no different. I followed him up there and watched the door close behind him with a heavy thud.

I'd never been in the second-floor bathroom. Of all the bathrooms in the school, this one had the toughest reputation. I'd heard tales whispered on the bus of the things that had gone down in there over the years. Horrible stories. Stories that convinced me to make the nurse's bathroom my toilet of choice.

But Trevor was in there and I figured Trevor, our best football player, was the one guy who had a slight chance of saving me from the Boss. I hesitated before going in. What if he picked a fight because of all the attention I was getting? After a few minutes I decided it was a chance I'd have to take. I gulped, said a prayer, pushed open the door—and was immediately struck in the face.

Only not by Trevor's fist. It was worse. Perhaps the most awful smell I'd ever inhaled choked me and made my eyes water. Trevor, who was washing his hands, saw me in the mirror. “Like that, Rathbone?” he laughed. “Onion rings. I love 'em, but whooooooo-eeee!”

I pulled my shirt up over my nose. “Good game yesterday. The defense played great.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “I can't hear you through your shirt.”

It was clearly a trick. Without lowering my shirt I repeated what I had said. This time he just shrugged and added more soap to his hands. “I didn't see
myself
in the paper after the game,” he finally answered. “I saw this other guy. Then I saw all these girls lined up to see this other guy. And then, then I got mad, but I remembered what the school psychologist is always telling me, so I didn't punch the other guy. Plus there were some teachers walking around. I figured maybe one day I'd get this other guy alone. And look—what do you know? The other guy is standing right in front of me.”

“Where?” I almost shouted, but Trevor didn't look like he would appreciate that. He had finished washing his hands and was now drying them by making fists. I considered bolting. Then I remembered a trick I had used on bullies in the past. Sometimes the smartest thing is to just pretend you didn't hear their threats. “I think we're playing Mantua next week,” I said, lowering my shirt from my nose. “Think we can win?”

“Rathbone, we never win.”

“But maybe we could start winning.” Wow, my trick had worked. Just for good measure I threw in a compliment. “You're our best player, Trevor. You could really get the team going.”

“I'm quitting.”

The shock made me inhale sharply. After spluttering and wiping my watering eyes, I managed, “What? You can't quit. You're too good.” What I wanted to say was, “You can't quit or the Boss will make Beet Parmesan out of me!”

“Rodney, I played football to impress the girls. Josie won't even speak to me. My heart's not into playing anymore. You know how it is . . .” He looked more depressed than fearsome. “I'm done with football,” he continued. “You even said you'd get me a date. How's that going? Not too good, I bet.”

This was horrible. Every time I mentioned Trevor to Josie she'd go, “Ewww, he's gross,” and start in about the demolition derby date. There was no way I could get her to go out with him.

Trevor stared at himself in the mirror for a few long seconds. Then he turned to me and took a step closer. The mean, scary look was back in his eyes. “Yeah, Rathbone, there's not much point to playing anymore, is there? Looks like there's only one thing left to make me happy.” He cracked his knuckles and stepped closer still.

I'm not sure if it was the threat of Trevor's fist or picturing Cheese lurking outside my bedroom window but my mouth took over. “Trevor, guess what I came in here to tell you?”

He paused.

My mouth continued, “I got you a date with Josie next Saturday night.”

“Rodney, that's the best thing anyone's ever told me. I owe you! I'll do you any favor.” He grabbed my hand and started pumping it up and down. Good thing I'd seen him wash so thoroughly.

“Any favor?” I repeated. “Just try to win next week. Josie said she'd love to see the G-Men win at least one time while she's head cheerleader.”

“Don't worry about me. I'm going to make sure we win. Hey, you're not lying to me now, are you?” His grip tightened.

“I never lie,” I lied. “No, Josie said she couldn't wait.”

His hand released mine and he actually tousled my hair. “Rodney, you're the best.” He turned back to the mirror. “Do you think I need a haircut?” He smiled at himself then made his hand look like a gun and fired it at his reflection. “You know what? It doesn't matter. I look good either way. See you at practice, Rathbone.”

He walked out. As the door clicked shut, reality kicked in. What had I just gotten myself into? There was no way Josie was going out with Trevor on Saturday.

My life was beginning to stink worse than this bathroom!