Playing the Field

by Janette Rallison

  This is where having an older brother to confer with would have come in handy, but I was older-brotherless. Kirk was the lucky one. By the time he got to junior high, I’d have girls all figured out and be able to tell him what to say in any situation. Kirk would probably be so cool he wouldn’t even have to practice a walk. Coolness would just be second nature to him.

  I trudged down the hall to my first class and hoped I’d have some inspiration before I talked to Serena again.

  I didn’t see Tony until we were heading to algebra class. I handed him the note. “Here,” I said. It was the best I could do to prepare him.

  He read the note then crumpled it up and threw it into one of the hallway trash cans. “Rachel broke up with me.” He didn’t sound very concerned about this turn of events.

  “Oh?” I asked. “And what exactly is your reaction to that?”

  He shrugged. “In some ways it makes things easier. I was afraid if I broke up with Rachel and then asked Anna out, it might make me look, you know, mean or something. But since Rachel broke up with me, it’s not mean of me to ask out her friend.”

  Nope, this was definitely not something I’d tell Serena about. I could just imagine what her reaction would be if I reported back to her how Tony took the news.

  Me: He was grateful Rachel broke up with him, because now he can ask Anna out without looking mean.

  Serena(with a shocked expression because it is suddenly clear to her that Tony and Rachel were never even remotely close to Romeo and Juliet): He what?

  Me: Yeah, and then he started humming as we walked to algebra class.

  I’d just have to think of something else to tell Serena. “After he got the news, he was very thoughtful,” I’d tell her, because after all, Tony must have been thinking about something as he walked humming down the hall.

  * * *

  Serena never asked me how he took the news, though. By the time school was over, Tony and Anna were walking around in the halls together, so I guess it was apparent to everyone he didn’t take the news very hard. While we were walking to my house, Serena told me she wasn’t mad at Tony and Anna, she was just extremely disappointed, and she had nothing else to say about them. This was fine with me. I didn’t want to talk about them either. I asked her about horses, and she told me about some horseback riding trips she’d taken with her family in the Superstition Mountains. “Have you ever been there?” she asked.

  The Superstition Mountains were about a half an hour drive from our house. Dad and I hiked up them at least once a year. I knew Serena was specifically asking if I’d ever done them on a horse but I decided to ignore this fact and answered, “Sure. They’re great.” I’d been purposefully vague about my horse experience since our first conversation.

  When we got to my house, the first thing I did after we walked in the door was to call, “Mom, we’re home.”

  After a moment Mom appeared in the hallway. “Hi, kids. There are some snacks in the kitchen. I’m right in the middle of Dr. Nebonski’s chest X-ray diagnosis, so I’ll be in the office.” She went back down the hall and I had to stifle the urge to call after her saying, “Hey Mom, come back here. You haven’t had a chance yet to notice how polite Serena is.”

  Instead I set my stuff down on the couch. Mom would be back later. I was sure of it. I was sure because I’d suddenly noticed how clean the house was. Mom never cleaned the house when Tony came over. She’d be back.

  Serena sat down on the couch and pulled her algebra book from her backpack. While she was arranging her notes, I went into the kitchen and put some popcorn in the microwave.

  I’d just got a couple of bowls down from the cupboard when I heard Kirk come into the family room.

  “Hi. You must be Kirk,” I heard Serena say.

  “Are you going to marry my brother?” he answered.

  I popped back into the family room. “Go away, Kirk, and don’t bug us. We’re studying.”

  He said, “You’re not studying, you’re eating.”

  “You still have to go away.”

  He picked up my algebra notebook. “I just want some paper to make airplanes.”

  Before he could rip out any of my assignments, I rushed over and grabbed the notebook away from him. “Find your own paper. I’m using this.”

  He stood planted to the ground and gave me his stubborn stare. I returned his stare with my move-right-now-or-I’ll-hurt-you stare. He still didn’t move so I said, “Do you want me to tell Mom you’re bothering us while we’re studying?”

  He turned and stomped off in the direction of our bedroom.

  I glanced over at Serena to see if she was upset at having her marriage plans questioned. She was smirking and looked like she was trying not to laugh.

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “It’s okay. I think he’s cute.”

  Most people think Kirk is cute. None of these people have to live with him, though.

  I went back into the kitchen and brought out the popcorn. A few pieces of it had burned because, I had been banishing Kirk from the family room instead of watching it. I hoped Serena didn’t mind too much.

  We decided the best way to study for the test would be to go over questions from each of the assignments to make sure we still remembered how to work them. We were about half way through with this when Kirk made his next appearance. He had a half a dozen paper airplanes and took them with him behind the love seat in the family room.

  “What are you doing in here, Kirk?” I asked him. “You’re not supposed to bother us.”

  Kirk didn’t answer. He just made jet noises and launched one of his airplanes toward us. I caught it mid air. “Kaboom,” I said. “Your plane has been shot down.” Without even looking at it, I wadded it up and tossed it back at the love seat. “Now go play somewhere else.”

  Kirk poked his head over the love seat. Making even bigger jet noises, he threw two more airplanes toward us. I caught one, crumpled it up, and hurled it back at Kirk, but the other landed by Serena, and she picked it up gingerly.

  “Come on,” I told her, “show me your best pitching form.”

  Instead of crumpling it up, she unfolded the plane. “What is this?”

  I hadn’t even bothered looking at the airplanes, but now as she uncreased the paper I recognized my handwriting. “Ohhh,” she said in a teasing voice, “A note from Tony.”

  At first I thought she was joking. How could Kirk have gotten a note from Tony to make into a paper airplane? Then it hit me with a terrible thud of realization. I’d taken notes out of my math folder and put them in my dresser—my dresser that Kirk thought he could dig through whenever he pleased. I reached for the paper, but Serena held it away from me. “Oh no, you don’t. It’s about me, and it’s just getting good.”

  The thud of realization suddenly grew into a feeling very similar to being run down by a large truck. I didn’t remember what I’d ever written about Serena, but whatever it was, I didn’t want her to see it. I lunged for the note again, but she jumped off the couch.

  “Give me that note,” I said.

  She held onto the paper and read out loud, “I’ve noticed she and Rachel giggle a lot when I walk by now.” She looked up from the paper at me. “We do not.”

  “Give me that paper,” I said in the most serious voice I could manage.

  Serena went on reading out loud, “She must like you. You must like her.”

  I lunged for the paper again. This time I got it, but I could tell from the look on her face she’d read the next part anyway. Her expression was a cross between wanting to cry and wanting to hit me.

  “You don’t like me?” she asked, but it wasn’t really a question. “You just wanted me to help you in math?”

  “No—I mean, well, I wanted you to help me with math, but I didn’t mean, I mean—” I didn’t know what I meant, but she didn’t give me time to explain anyway. She picked up her books from the couch and shoved them into her backpack.

  “I didn’t mean that I
didn’t like you,” I said weakly.

  “Then why did you write it?” She flung her backpack onto her shoulder.

  I hadn’t thought about that note since I wrote it. Under the spotlight of the moment, I didn’t remember what exactly had been going on or why I had worded things that way. “I don’t know,” I said. I looked down and saw the words I’d written on the note, I don’t like her. I just want her to help me with my math. “I’m sorry, Serena.”

  By this time Serena was walking to my front door. “Oh give me a break, McKay. You were just using me to help you get a better grade in math and you know it.” She swung the front door open, but paused before she stepped outside. “And you know what else, suddenly I understand why you’re best friends with Tony Manetti.” She slammed the door as she left.

  I thought about going after her and trying to explain things, trying to apologize again. But what could I say to fix this? I stared at the front door and wished I could kick it. This was not just a little social blunder. It was an earthquake. How did a guy go about trying to put things back together after an earthquake?

  I needed time to come up with a really good apology. Or I at least needed enough time that Serena would cool off and accept a partially good apology. And I wasn’t even sure I could come up with that. At this point I was only sure of one thing, and that was that Kirk was responsible for this earthquake, and therefore should suffer for it.

  I walked back into the family room to face him. He was still standing behind the love seat with a paper plane grasped in his hand. He had no idea what had just happened, and I could tell he wasn’t exactly sure whether he was in trouble or not. I sent him an angry glare to clear up the matter in his little mind. “I’ll kill you,” I said, “slowly and painfully.”

  He yelled, “Mom!” and took off toward the back of the house. I didn’t chase after him. Instead I went to our room and started putting all of Kirk’s things out in the hallway. I’d cleared out all of his guns, swords, and Star Wars figures before Mom walked in. She had one hand on her hip, and one hand holding onto Kirk’s hand. He stood as far away from me as he could and sniffled.

  “Did you tell your brother you’d tear his legs off?” she asked.

  “No, but if I had thought of it, I would have.”

  “See! See!” Kirk pointed at me wildly. “I told you he was going to hurt me.”

  “He’s not going to hurt you,” Mom said sternly.

  “Yes, I am,” I said, “because he’s ruining my life.” I walked over to my dresser, opened the top drawer, and pointed at the now empty space that my notes used to be in. “He got into my stuff and made paper airplanes out of my personal, private notes. He threw one I’d written about Serena to her, and she read it. Now she’s mad at me, and it’s all Kirk’s fault.”

  Mom looked down at Kirk. “Oh, Kirk, you didn’t.”

  Kirk had three of his fingers in his mouth—half sucking on them, half biting down. He’s done this ever since he was a baby whenever he gets nervous or scared.

  Mom kneeled down to be on his level. “You know you’re not allowed to get into McKay’s things.”

  Kirk bit on his fingers some more and didn’t say anything.

  Usually when I see Kirk like this, I feel sorry for him. But not this time. I picked his cowboy boots out of the closet and dropped them into the hallway.

  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. Lo
usy 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.