The Perfect Star

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The Perfect Star Page 14

by Rob Buyea


  “Yes. That’s why I’m not always first to arrive for our broadcast, but you guys needed a male coach on the staff, and I got you one.”

  “But isn’t blackmail illegal?”

  “Depends. I wasn’t asking for money, just cooperation, so there was nothing illegal about the deal I struck with Stonebreaker and those jerk boys from camp.”

  “What was the deal you made with them?”

  “I threatened to turn the video over to school officials and law enforcement if they didn’t leave Scott alone or if the picture that they’d snapped wasn’t deleted.”

  I shook my head. Natalie was way badder than me. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m sure glad I’m on your team.”

  “Trev, I’m your girlfriend. Of course you’re on my team.”

  Sure wish I could kiss you, then, I thought.

  “Hey, lover boy,” Mark called from the school doors. “Let’s go. Coach Magenta’s waiting for you.”

  I turned to Natalie. “You sure you’re glad we’re back to being best friends?”

  She smiled. “See you later,” she said.

  “See ya.” I jogged to the building but looked back before ducking inside. And that was when she blew me another kiss.

  “I saved it for after the game this time,” she said.

  “Good thinking, but maybe one of these times you can plant it instead.”

  She blushed, and I ran into the locker room before I died on the spot. I didn’t know where I’d found the guts to say that, but I was kind of glad I had.

  Come Sunday, it was time to get my butt to the Senior Center for another visit. Magenta and Woods were both in the habit of telling me that Coach was getting better, but he didn’t make it to our game again, and sometimes seeing is believing.

  I woulda told everyone else I was going, but I wasn’t sure what kinda shape I was gonna find Coach in, and I didn’t want to jump the gun by inviting more people if he wasn’t up for it. If he was doing good, they could join me next time. The only Recruit to go with me was Scott. We always went together, but I made it clear we weren’t beating around the bush. The plan was to find his grandpa and get to Coach’s room—but when did things ever go as planned? We got to the center, and there was no Grandpa or Coach anywhere.

  We raced down the halls, searching for them. Had something happened? Was that why everyone had disappeared? I jumped all the way to thinking terrible things, but I couldn’t help it. I had firsthand experience with terrible things. Terrible things happened whenever they wanted to happen. There was no warning when it came to terrible things.

  I charged ahead, looking for anyone, looking for answers. The Community Hall was empty, but suddenly we heard a burst of laughter nearby. We took off again and finally found everyone in the TV room. Mrs. Woods had brought the tape of our Razzle-Dazzle Show, and she had it playing on the big screen.

  “You’re watching our show!” Scott cried.

  “Just finishing it,” Grandpa said. “And we’ve already watched your game from yesterday. Mr. Magenta taped it for us.”

  “You boys looked terrific,” Woods commented.

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing at Coach. Smoky was curled up on his lap, but Coach’s gaze was zeroed in on us. I elbowed Scott to make sure he noticed. Coach was still tired and not talking much, but his eyes said it all. He knew it was us.

  “I don’t know squat about football,” Eddie admitted, “but I’ve always said, if you need the world to know something, put it on Good Morning America with that Connie Stewart. Guess now I can say, ‘Put it on The Razzle-Dazzle Show.’ That Miss Natalie sure is something.”

  “She’s the quarterback of our broadcast,” Scott said.

  “Gavin, you tell her and Miss Randi that Agnes and I were asking about them,” Eddie said, “and we hope they’re having fun stirring up trouble and chasing boys.”

  Agnes huffed. “You don’t need to repeat that last bit.”

  “That’s the important part,” Eddie exclaimed.

  Me and Scott chuckled. “I’ll tell them,” I said.

  We found seats and watched the rest of our show and an episode of Judge Judy with them, and then Woods unlocked the brakes on Coach’s wheelchair. “I can see Coach is getting tired, so we’re going to head back now. We’ve had enough excitement for one afternoon.” She started steering him toward the door, but Coach stuck his hand up for her to stop.

  He nodded in my direction. That was his way of asking for me to do the driving. I was happy, surprised, and scared all at the same time. I walked over and grabbed the handles on his chair and pushed him out the door and down the hall. Mrs. Woods followed us, but she was the only one.

  When we got to his place, Woods had me wheel Coach close to his recliner and put the brakes on. “I’ll need you to help me get him into his chair,” she said.

  I didn’t know how to do that or what I was supposed to do, but I wasn’t gonna say no to her. I walked around to the front of his wheelchair. Smoky hopped down, and Coach leaned on me hard. He was heavy. But that was okay. I was ready to carry him.

  “I thought you’d be watching football today,” I grunted, trying to make conversation while I struggled to move him. “It’s Sunday, you know.”

  Coach groaned as I helped him into his recliner. He leaned back, winded from the exertion. Smoky hopped into his lap again.

  “Valentine,” he rasped.

  I leaned closer.

  “Don’t worry. I need to see how all this finishes up before I go anywhere.”

  I swallowed. “No time soon,” I croaked.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  I nodded. What else can a boy do in that moment, except try to be strong?

  Gav called me when he got home from the Senior Center. I never even knew he was going, but he explained why he didn’t tell any of us. I understood.

  “So how is he?” I asked, referring to Coach.

  “Better,” Gav said. “He’s better, but he’s not the same….” His voice trailed off.

  My eyebrows scrunched. “How so?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s not like he’s getting confused more often, but he’s sleeping more. And he’s weaker, too. He’s just not the same.”

  “Do you think the rest of us should visit?” I asked.

  “You should. I can’t promise you’ll get to see Coach, but Agnes and Eddie were asking about you and Kurtsman.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll tell Natalie we need to get over there.”

  Gav grew quiet. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Gav, what’s wrong?” I said, sensing there was more. “Why’d you call?”

  “Just got a bad feeling about Coach, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” I understood bad feelings. Mine wouldn’t leave me alone. If anything, they were happening more and getting stronger. I was having nightmares about us moving now. And it didn’t help that Mom and I weren’t talking. It was the silent treatment all over again, except Mom wasn’t being mean about it. I was the mean one. Mom was only trying to give me time and space, but she could give me all the time and space she wanted. That wasn’t going to change how I felt.

  “I guess there’s not much I can do except visit him when I get the chance,” Gav said.

  “He’s getting better, Gav. You said so yourself.” That was me trying to say something comforting, but it didn’t fool him.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  We hung up, and I sat there in the quiet, thinking about Gav and Coach, and then I heard Mom’s voice coming from her bedroom. She was on the phone, giggling and carrying on. There was only one person who could make her laugh like that.

  I had a bad feeling. A bad feeling.

/>   NATALIE KURTSMAN

  ASPIRING LAWYER

  Kurtsman Law Offices

  BRIEF #13

  November: Kids Klub #2

  Monday’s Razzle-Dazzle Show was nothing more than a weekend recap, definitely not the great things Mrs. Woods seemed to have no doubt we’d achieve, but it would have to suffice, because that was all the energy I could give to the show presently.

  Here was the problem: Secretively I was immersed in two important cases. The first involved Scott. I wanted to find time to meet with Mr. Allen to inform him of the bathroom bullying Scott had endured at camp. I had told Stonebreaker I wouldn’t hand over the video, but I’d never said I wouldn’t tell. Getting Stonebreaker in trouble was not my motive, though I wouldn’t have objected to that; rather, I simply wanted to make Mr. Allen aware so that he could keep an eye on Scott and also so that Mr. Allen had knowledge of that backstory before we went into our game against North Lake—in case this Stonebreaker bozo did anything egregious that violated our agreement.

  My second case required a return trip to Kids Klub. I needed to know if Robbie’s father had responded to my letter. As you can see, I was engaged in serious work, but unfortunately, none of it was appropriate for The Razzle-Dazzle Show. As previously stated, this was one video of Scott’s that I couldn’t put on our broadcast, and there wasn’t anything for me to report about Holmes—yet.

  “Natalie,” Randi called, getting my attention after we’d finished with the show and were packing up. “Gav went and visited Coach yesterday, and he said Agnes and Eddie were asking about us. We need to go and see them.”

  Add that to my list of things to do, I thought. “I can’t go today or tomorrow,” I said, “but I’m free on Wednesday.”

  “I have PT on Wednesday. How about Thursday?”

  “That will work. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “Great. See you later,” she said.

  “Bye.”

  Everything I’d told her was true. I’d made arrangements with Father to get dropped off at Kids Klub that afternoon, and I hoped to meet with Mr. Allen the next day after school. I’d purposely chosen Father to be my driver because he never asked too many questions, other than about my school day. Mother would’ve been interrogating me, wanting to know where everyone else was.

  FYI: The answer to that question was “in the dark.” No one could know I was potentially stirring up more trouble with Holmes.

  All went according to plan. Father was easy. It was the first grader I was on my way to see that had my hands all sweaty. I could go toe-to-toe with the best of them; I could stare down a giant. Yet I was a bigger jumble of nerves than I would’ve been if I’d been going to see the president.

  True, I’d had a heart-to-heart with Robbie the last time I’d visited, and he’d been eager to help me, but now I worried that he might be upset with me for taking so long to return. Nevertheless, the only way to find out was to face the music. I walked into the cafeteria where Kids Klub took place and found Robbie in his usual spot. He was busy reading his joke book again.

  I reached inside my bag and pulled out a different joke book I had picked up at the local bookstore. I was prepared. I held it in my hand and walked across the floor.

  “Hi, Robbie,” I said. When he looked up, I showed him the book. “I thought you might like to read some new jokes.”

  “Are they any good?”

  “Why couldn’t the toilet paper cross the road?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  “Because it got stuck in a crack.”

  He laughed. “That’s a good one,” he said, taking the book from me. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I sat down next to him, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Robbie found another joke he liked and told it to me. We laughed. Then he went back to searching for more. I leaned over. I found a funny one on the bottom of the page and pointed. He read it, and we laughed again.

  I confess that I had gone to see if Robbie’s father had received my letter and given Robbie a written a response, but sitting side by side with Robbie and laughing over silly jokes was worth my trip. To see him smiling and happy was what was important.

  I decided not to mention his father. If the best I could do when it came to Mr. Holmes was help his first-grade son, then that was fine by me. I slid closer, and we continued with the jokes until it was time for me to leave.

  “Robbie, I’ve got to go now.”

  Hi shoulders slumped. “You do?”

  “I’m afraid so. My father just texted to tell me he’s here. Thanks for letting me hang out with you this afternoon.”

  No response.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll come and visit again.”

  “Really? You promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.” I mussed up his hair, and then I got to my feet and started toward the exit. I only made it halfway before—

  “Natalie, wait!”

  I stopped and turned around in time to see him scurrying to his backpack. When he pulled out a folded envelope, I gasped.

  He came running over to me with it. “I almost forgot, but don’t worry, nobody else saw it.”

  “Thank you, Robbie.” I slipped the envelope into my bag. “I’ll be back soon,” I assured him.

  “Bye.”

  I smiled, and then I turned and hurried out the door, passing Brian on my way to the parking lot. He was headed inside to volunteer. I waved hello but didn’t stop for small talk. No time. I needed to get to the office ASAP so that I could read Mr. Holmes’s response.

  Mr. Allen wanted to meet with me on Wednesday. I guessed the pressure of the football team going undefeated was finally getting to him and he probably wanted to talk about it. I understood. It wasn’t easy. That’s why Gavin and me were putting in extra time now. The Warriors were down to this weekend’s game, and then it was Stonebreaker. Other than Gavin, Trevor, Mark, and me, no one else on the team knew about the beast. Coach Magenta was a firm believer in one game at a time, so she didn’t want us telling the guys anything about the Titan’s ferocious linebacker until North Lake was next up on our schedule. All I knew was I had to learn to catch if my secret-weapon play was ever going to be called. I was hauling in about 50 percent of Gavin’s passes now, but that was with no one else around and no defense breathing down my neck—and no Stonebreaker looking to maim me. Add that stuff to the mix, and I was going to have trouble breathing, forget catching a pass.

  “Scott, how’re you doing?” Mr. Allen asked.

  “Good,” I said. “How’re you doing, Mr. Allen?”

  He chuckled. “You know, Scott. I don’t see you in here that much anymore. I miss our chats.”

  “Is that why you invited me down here?”

  He chuckled again. “Always to the point. Scott, I heard about what happened at camp with that Stonebreaker kid.”

  I gulped. “You did? Trevor told you?”

  “No. Actually, Natalie told me. Apparently your phone recorded the incident and she saw it when transferring files to her computer.”

  “It did?”

  “Yes. I didn’t see the video, and Natalie assures me that no one else has, but she felt the need to tell me about it because she wanted me to check on you and make sure you were okay. She was concerned.”

  “Oh.”

  “Scott, I did contact the principal at North Lake to tell him what had happened. Brutus Stonebreaker has been suspended from their next game. I intend to push for more, but politics has gotten in the way, since he’s their star player.”

  I gulped again. “Mr. Allen, don’t push for more. Stonebreaker needs to be on the field when we play them. If he isn’t, then people will always say we only won because he was missing. The team won’t get the credit we deserve and neither will Coach Magenta. Pleas
e.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said, even though I was already shaking on the inside. Stonebreaker was going to be out for blood after getting suspended.

  “Okay,” Mr. Allen agreed. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now tell me about football,” he said.

  This was the part I’d been waiting for. I skooched forward in my chair. “Well, we’ve got to win this weekend, and so do the Titans—without Stonebreaker, but they should—and then we’re going to have a huge Thanksgiving showdown. The Titans are undefeated, too. They’ve got a very tough team this year. It’s going to be epic.”

  “Yes, everyone’s certainly getting pumped up,” Mr. Allen said. “Here’s what I’ve been thinking. If you guys pull off another win this weekend, then we’re going to hold a historic pep rally before the epic Thanksgiving showdown.”

  “Really? A pep rally?” I exclaimed. “With cotton candy and stuff?”

  “You guys win, and I’ll make sure we have cotton candy,” Mr. Allen promised.

  “Oh boy,” I squealed. I was so excited, I spilled the beans and told Mr. Allen all about my secret-weapon play even though it was a secret, but he crossed his heart not to tell anyone. I told him how my play was progressing and what I was scared about. And then Mr. Allen gave me some great advice.

  “Scott, every person who’s brave enough to attempt something great, whether it’s writing a book or giving a presentation, running for public office or serving as principal, singing a solo or catching a pass, will battle self-doubt along the way. There will always be that little voice whispering negative thoughts. That’s normal, but you can’t listen to it. You must quiet it. Do you know how to do that?”

  “Plug my ears?”

  Mr. Allen laughed. “You need to remind yourself that even if you do fail, it will be okay, because the trying is the important part. You’ll become better and will ultimately succeed as a result of what you’ve learned from failing, so don’t be afraid of it. And after you’ve tried once, you’ll know you can do it again.”

 

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