Playing the Field (15 page)

Mom watched me. “What are you doing,
McKay?”

“Moving Kirk out of this room and away from
my stuff.”

I thought Mom would protest. I thought she’d
order me to put all of Kirk’s stuff back. In fact, I’d already
prepared my arguments against doing it. But Mom didn’t stop me. She
just looked down at Kirk sympathetically and sighed. “I guess it
really is about time for the two of you to have separate rooms.
Then maybe you won’t be at each other’s throats all of the
time.”

“What?” Kirk wailed, and then, “but this is
my room!” Then he stomped his feet up and down.

Mom’s look of sympathy disappeared. She hated
it when Kirk threw temper tantrums. “Come on. You can help me get
the office ready for your things.”

“No!” Kirk wailed even louder. “Make McKay
put my stuff back! Make him!”

Mom pulled Kirk out of the room and down the
hallway. I could hear him screaming all the way there.

I kept moving things into the hallway. With
every coloring book and Nerf missile I dropped into the pile, I was
closer to freedom. By dinnertime I had all of Kirk’s things out of
the room.

Chapter 12

I studied for the test silently, sprawled
across my bed. I knew how to do all of the practice problems. That
was a relief, but I couldn’t bring myself to be happy about it. I
couldn’t feel happy about anything. I called Serena’s phone three
times. She didn’t pick up.

The next day at school I tried to find Serena
in the hall, but the one time I saw her, she was with Brian
Vanders. They stood together outside algebra class, and she was
smiling up at him. She looked at me for a second when I walked
past, then returned her gaze to Brian and laughed at something he’d
said.

It was hard to concentrate on the algebra
test. I read off the first problem to myself 4x - y = 2 - 2(y/2 -
x) I got half way through working out the equation, then glanced
across the room at Serena to see what she was doing. She was
writing, a serious look on her face. I finished the problem then
went to the next, x2 + 7x = -12. I glanced over at Serena again.
Did she really like Brian? If so, were they going to hang out
together outside of algebra class every day? The thought made my
intestines feel like they were having a tug of war.

I read the last question. If this and that
and blah blah blah, when would two trains meet in Boston? If only
all of my problems could be answered so easily.

After I finished the test, I stared at my
desk. I tried to recheck some of the harder problems on the test,
but the numbers didn’t seem to mean anything. I peered over at
Serena for a while longer. She’d finished her test too and was
brushing off some eraser marks from one corner of her paper.

Look at me, I told her silently. Just glance
over here so I know you’re thinking about me.

She put her test squarely in the middle of
her desk and turned her attention to the clock hanging on the
wall.

She’d probably ignore me forever. I wondered
if every algebra class from here on would be this way. It almost
sounded like a story problem. If McKay looks at Serena at a rate of
once every 2 minutes, and class lasts for 55 minutes every day, how
long will it take before he goes absolutely insane? I had to talk
to her. I couldn’t go through this intestine stretching experience
every day. I had to find a way to explain to her the note to Tony
didn’t mean anything. It happened before I got to know her. It was
just talk. It was because Tony was blowing kisses at me and picking
out names for our firstborn son. The problem was, I didn’t know how
to tell her any of that.

I looked down at the pencil in my hand. Maybe
it would be best to write it down in a note. That way I could make
sure I said everything exactly the way I should. But then the more
I thought about it, the more I thought a note was a bad idea. Maybe
Serena would show it to Brian, and they’d both laugh about what a
loser I was. Maybe Serena would make it into a paper airplane and
throw it back at me.

Tony walked with me to my locker after class.
“How did you do on the test?” he asked me.

“I think I did pretty well.”

“Me too,” he said. “What time did your trains
meet in Boston?”

“Five-thirty.”

“Dang. Mine met at four-twelve.”

I opened my locker and got my sack lunch
out.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you,” Tony said, “I’m
going out with Anna now.”

“Great.” I slammed my locker door shut.

“I found out some bad news for you though.
Anna told me Serena and Brian are going out now.”

“Really?” My intestines began an Olympic
version of a tug-of-war.

“Yeah. He asked her this morning. Lousy
break, huh?”

“Yeah. Lousy break.”

“But there are a lot of other cute girls
around. You’ve just got to get out there and start playing the
field if you want to win the game.”

I didn’t answer him. I didn’t know what to
say. The last thing I wanted to do at this moment was to start
chasing another girl. My insides hadn’t recovered from the last
one.

* * *

That afternoon we played the South Mesa Toros
for game four. I was especially glad when I got to the ballpark. I
knew once I stepped onto the field, I wouldn’t think about anything
except the game. And I didn’t think about Serena at all—well,
except for the few times I glanced at the bleachers and noticed she
wasn’t there watching me play.

I hit a beautiful triple in the first inning.
We won 8 to 5, which meant we only had three more teams to beat,
and we’d win the district fall ball title. Our team was jazzed. As
we got ready to go home, the guys on the team did a lot of yelling
and back slapping. Tony and I did several verses of our “You the
man” song. I felt great. I was the man of all men.

* * *

The next day at school I was no longer McKay
the man. I was McKay the guy who’d messed up with Serena, and not
only was she still giving me the major cold shoulder, but I noticed
Rachel threw some icicle looks at me too. She turned away sharply
from me whenever I walked by her in the hallway. I wondered who
else knew about my note to Tony and was also mad at me. And how
long did girls stay mad once they got that way? Thinking about all
of this made me yearn for the good old days when I was flunking
math.

At the end of algebra class, Mrs. Swenson
handed our tests back. I got an 86, which was a B+. It was the best
grade I’d received on a test all year. She actually congratulated
me as she handed it to me.

My parents would be thrilled about this. I
watched Serena tuck her test into her algebra book and leave the
room without even a glance in my direction. Somehow my B+ didn’t
seem as great without being able to tell her about it.

When I woke up the next morning, I still had
a sinking feeling every time I thought about Serena. I knew I had
to talk to her soon. I was going to offer a real apology, and
Serena was going to listen to me. Then, if she still wanted to be
mad at me—well, fine, she could be mad, but it wouldn’t be because
I hadn’t tried to patch things up.

The only problem with this plan was that it
was Saturday, and I wouldn’t be able to go to school and see her.
This was probably the first day in my entire school career I woke
up and wished the weekend was over. I stewed around all morning
while I did my chores and thought of the things I ought to say to
Serena and how I should word everything to best defend myself. By
the afternoon I had quite a speech worked out. I was half afraid
I’d forget it by Monday, or at least that I’d lose my nerve and not
be able to talk to Serena at school. So I did a very brave thing.
After I’d finished the last of the vacuuming, I got on my bike and
rode over to her house.

I stood on her porch for a few moments and
went over bits and pieces of my speech. I hoped Serena’s father
wouldn’t answer the door. I’d never met him, and I was afraid he’d
be the overly protective type who didn’t like boys visiting his
daughter. Maybe Serena had told her parents all about the note
incident, and now neither one of them liked me. Finally I rang the
bell.

Serena’s mother answered the door with a
smile. “Hello, McKay. Serena’s already left.”

“Oh,” I said blankly. “Left?” I had been so
prepared to offer some sort of defense on the doorstep that I just
stood there looking at Mrs. Kimball, not sure what to do next.

When I didn’t leave right away, Mrs. Kimball
said, “I’m sure you could catch up with her. She’s right down the
street.”

She seemed to think I ought to know what she
was talking about, and I didn’t want to admit I didn’t. “Oh,” I
said again, and then, “Well, thanks.” I got back on my bike and for
the first time noticed a bunch of kids down the street on bikes. I
couldn’t tell who they were from a distance, but I slowly rode my
bike in their direction anyway.

I hadn’t planned to give my speech in front
of anyone but Serena, and when I gave it to her she was supposed to
be giving me her full attention. She was also supposed to have a
sort of wistful look about her that would let me know that she was
sorry we’d ever had this fight. I didn’t want to talk to her while
she was with a group. I pedaled my bike a little slower. Maybe my
speech could wait until Monday.

Then again, I was already here. I might as
well go down there and see what Serena was doing. I could pretend I
was in this part of the neighborhood and casually go by. Then if
Serena wasn’t busy, or surrounded by a lot of people, I might stop
and say hi.

When I got closer, I saw what was going on.
The group of kids, which consisted mostly of half a dozen guys from
our school, had turned a couple of empty lots into a bike jumping
course. They’d built up some mounds of dirt and were riding their
bikes over them. The lowest mound was probably only a foot and a
half off the ground and the highest was three, so they didn’t look
dangerous or spectacular, but the guys made a big deal about it
anyway, whooping it up as they went over.

Personally speaking, Tony and I had gone over
bigger jumps back when we were ten years old and going through our
stuntman phase. For a full year Tony and I were determined that one
day we’d go to Hollywood and become professional stuntmen. We
figured it would be best to get an early start on learning stuntman
skills, so we’d jumped our bikes, practiced falling down the
stairs, leapt off of Tony’s deck, and worked on an assortment of
other stuntmanlike activities. My Mom finally put an end to our
Hollywood ambitions when she caught us lighting newspapers in the
street so we could run through them. I was grounded for a month and
had to live with the threat that if I ever, ever tried to be a
stuntman again, Mom would lock me in my room until I was old enough
to pay for my own medical insurance.

So anyway, I was not overly impressed by this
bike jump course, or with the jumpers, especially since one of them
was Brian Vanders. I stopped in the street a little way from
everybody and watched them for a minute. I saw Rachel standing by
one of the boys, talking with him, but I didn’t see Serena at
first. Then I noticed her sitting on a half wall at the back of the
lot. She had probably originally been watching Brian do jumps, but
now she was watching me. She gave me a long look, not smiling but
not glaring either. It was just a long look, then she turned her
attention back to the group of boys.

Tony, I suppose, would have known exactly
what that look meant and whether it would have been better to stop
now and try to make amends with Serena or whether that look meant
it was better to stay on my bike and keep going. But I wasn’t Tony,
and I didn’t know. I figured since she’d seen me, I’d better stop
and talk to her. I didn’t have to issue my apology right now. I’d
just say hi and be friendly.

I rode my bike up to where Serena sat, but
didn’t get off.

“Hi, Serena.”

She glanced briefly at me. “Hi.”

I took a deep breath and tried to look
casual. “How did you do on your algebra test?”

“I got an A.”

I waited for her to ask how I’d done, but she
didn’t. “I got a B+,” I said.

“Good. I guess you got all you wanted
then.”

I cleared my throat. “You know that’s not all
I wanted. I mean, of course I wanted to raise my math grade and
everything, but, well, you know what I mean.”

Serena raised her eyebrows at me. “No, I
don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that I never meant what I said in
that note to Tony.”

“Oh, really? Then you must have written that
stuff because you were practicing your handwriting skills, right?”
Her eyebrows were still raised.

“No, Tony was giving me a hard time about you
so I just . . .” I tapped my handlebars nervously. This was not at
all what I’d planned on saying. “I never meant I didn’t like you. I
just meant I didn’t like you, like picking-out-names like you, and
besides, that was before I even knew you, you know?”

She looked straight at me. “McKay, most of
the time you make absolutely no sense.”

Just then Brian rode up to us. He looked me
over suspiciously, then turned and smiled at Serena. “Did you see
that last jump?”

“Yeah.” Serena beamed back at him. “It was
great.”

“I was airborne for probably five seconds.”
He took a deep breath as though thinking about this great
accomplishment took a vast amount of energy.

Serena still smiled adoringly at him. “That
must be really hard.”

“You have to be in good shape.” He looked
scornfully over at me. “It’s a lot harder than hitting a baseball
around.”

“Like you’d know,” I said back to him.

“Hey,” Brian said, “if you think jumping is
so easy, then why don’t you try it?”

“I have tried it.”

“Then show us,” he said.