Southern Girl

by Lukas,Renee J.

  Coach Drysdale had little time for or interest in the girls in P.E. who did not have basketball aspirations. She was all about The Green Machine. So she treated every P.E. class as a basketball practice. “Next time, I wanna see if anyone can get that ball away from Aimes.” She called everyone by their last names, an old habit from her military service. With that, she gave Jess a quick wink, blew her whistle and shouted at everyone to get out of there.

  In the girls’ locker room, Jess pretty much kept to herself, sitting on one of the benches and quietly changing clothes, averting her eyes as naked bodies were lathered with soap in the showers nearby. For three years now, she’d kept a deodorant stick in her worn-out gym bag, refusing to take a shower in that locker room until they installed partitions between showers. It didn’t matter much, because the P.E. class and basketball practice were held the last period of the day. So she could always go home and shower. Still, the end of every P.E. class was a race to throw her regular clothes on over her underwear before someone less modest walked by.

  “Hey, ya big star,” Kelly teased, coming over to Jess’s bench. Kelly Madison was the kind of friend who patted you on the back with one hand while stabbing you with the other. She dressed like the typical eighties teen, with big hair that required numerous cans of hairspray to maintain. She was probably single-handedly responsible for much of the depletion of the earth’s ozone.

  Jess winced. Whenever Kelly called her a “star,” she could feel Kelly’s snake-like jealousy slithering up her spine.

  “Don’t call me that,” Jess said.

  “Don’t you ever take a shower?” she squeaked.

  “Hell, no. I don’t want anybody lookin’ at my ass.”

  Kelly squeal-laughed, throwing her head back. “You’re too funny.”

  Kelly was probably the next most talented member of the team. But she lacked the passion for the game that Jess had. Her biggest goal was finding Mr. Right. She would spend hours applying mascara and lip gloss to achieve this goal. Her white, button-down Oxford shirts were always neatly pressed and starched with collars standing up high and stiff. Her brown, blond-streaked, curled hair was scrunched and sprayed so much it felt like a scouring pad whenever she whipped her head around and accidentally lashed Jess’s face. Most of the other kids in their high school considered her quite pretty.

  “You know I heard the coach has two artificial knees,” Kelly said in a hushed tone.

  “What’re you talkin’ about?” Jess made a face.

  “They say she sets off metal detectors everywhere she goes.”

  “Really?”

  Kelly glanced around the locker room. “Well, I don’t believe gossip, you know. It’s just what I heard.” As usual, her words didn’t match her face; her eyes were wide as saucers, which seemed to say this was true, Pentagon-level information. She hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and left.

  Jess was nearly finished stuffing the rest of her things into her gym locker. She wondered why she was friends with Kelly. They were on the team together, but when it was time to talk about something other than sports, Jess wasn’t sure how much they actually had in common. She could be fun sometimes. But as she listened to Kelly gossiping about other kids, even the coach, some of her comments stinging, Jess knew she had to be doing the same about her too. Ever since her experience with Brittany, Jess had had a sixth sense for duplicity. So she rarely let her guard down around Kelly Madison.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next day began, as usual, with biology class, taught by Coach Millis Purvis. For some reason, all the male coaches taught biology or science. No one knew why. Maybe they thought football and basketball were sports that required superior knowledge of human anatomy. But when it came time to talk about reproduction, animal or even plant, they were embarrassed. And when they talked about electrons and minerals, they were lost.

  Millis Purvis was no exception. He tended to shout like a military sergeant to compensate for his short stature. He fooled no one by parting his hair next to his ear in the hopes that he would appear less bald. He too liked to call everyone by their last name. A lot of the guys on the school’s athletic teams were used to his gruff manner and his habit of calling the class names like “sissies” and “losers.” But it upset some of the girls.

  Jess sat near the back, drawing pictures in her notebook while Mr. Purvis painfully waded through a lecture on the reproductive system.

  “The sperm fertilizes the egg…” He drew x’s and o’s on the chalkboard, much like he did for the football team. It was a diagram to help the sperm team penetrate the egg team.

  Jess looked up and laughed at the scribbles and the coach’s blood- red face. She bet he wished he were teaching history, especially the Civil War, so he could talk about bloody body parts instead of plain old naked body parts.

  More x’s and o’s…

  Jess leaned over to Kelly, who was trying with great difficulty to take notes.

  “Is this reproduction?” Jess whispered. “Or are we gettin’ ready for the Super Bowl?”

  Kelly hid her laughter behind her notebook, so Jess was the only one Mr. Purvis could see. He shouted, “Jess Aimes! You just bought yourself a one-way ticket to the office!”

  Jess sometimes got away with more in classes because teachers didn’t want the reverend or his wife to come to the school, but Coach Purvis was not a particularly religious man and he was not impressed by Jess’s father’s profession. He seemed to enjoy demonstrating how unimpressed he was by calling her out whenever possible.

  Jess gathered up her books, gratefully leaving the boring class and sauntering down the hall. No teacher could scare her. She smirked at the case of trophies won by The Green Machine. The boys’ team didn’t come close to the number of wins the girls had. Jess relished that.

  She made her way to the office, which was empty.

  “Hello?” she called. “Anybody here?”

  No answer.

  “This is bullshit,” Jess muttered to herself, glancing at the clock on the wall behind the desk. She hadn’t been sent to the office before, but she’d heard that they expected you to work as an assistant while you were there. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s assistant.

  Jess rang the little bell on the front desk. Finally there came a rustling sound down the hall.

  “Shit!” A girl with long, dark hair dove to the floor to pick up the mess of papers she’d dropped in her haste to answer the bell.

  Jess paused a moment, marveling at the girl’s supreme clumsiness. She decided to help her, grabbing a few papers. “I should tell you,” Jess said, “I’m not gonna be anyone’s assistant just ’cause I got called in here.” She had to set the ground rules, after all.

  Their knees touched, and they looked up at the same time.

  “It’s you,” Stephanie said.

  It’s Stephanie. Jess’s friend from the past was all of a sudden there, with the same big gray eyes and the same smile. Because she was older, her features were more defined, like those of a young woman now. Jess wasn’t prepared for the shock of seeing her again, older, face to face. Of course she had to have grown up. But in her mind, Stephanie had been frozen in that photograph on her dresser.

  All the blood drained from Jess’s face and her breath caught in her throat as she fixed her gaze on those gray eyes…

  Stephanie sat back on her heels, with an amused smile. “It’s okay. I don’t need an assistant.”

  Principal Eileen Edwards, a brassy old bookworm, marched in. “What’s this mess?”

  “It’s my fault,” Jess answered quickly.

  “Well, clean it up.” The principal went by, making a small Chanel breeze in her wake.

  Jess’s mind went blank. She picked up papers absently, unable to process her shock. She thought of small talk she could make, but nothing seemed adequate. More papers kept appearing as she grabbed them—they seemed to multiply—until the bell rang. The minutes leading up to that were kind of a blur. If anything else wa
s said, she didn’t remember. Grateful for the bell, she ran out of the office as fast as she could.

  Once in the hall, Jess zigzagged through crowds of students, bumping into shoulders like bumper cars. Her heart pounding thunderously, she couldn’t remember where she was going or what she was doing. Her swagger was gone.

  Chapter Twenty

  In the cafeteria, trays slid down the line as cooks slapped various shades of sludge on plates. Jess was headed to her usual table with her tray when she caught a glimpse of the leaves blowing outside the windows. Reds and golds floating sideways reminded her of the passage of time, how everything, everyone, grows older. It was still surprising to realize that Stephanie was now, like herself, older. Her reverie was interrupted by the sight of her teammates buzzing about something extra important today.

  “You got a date yet?” Kelly asked.

  “For what?” Jess sat down with her tray.

  “The Promise Dance, dummy. Do you even go to this school?” Kelly shook her head as if Jess were a lost cause. “Bryan Preston asked me.”

  “Isn’t he the guy who eats paste?”

  “Shut up,” Kelly said. “That was years ago. You could be happy for me.”

  “I’m thrilled. You want your fries?”

  Just then Fran Dilger sat down, bursting with news, checking with Kelly first. “Have you told her yet?” Fran was a bright-eyed girl with auburn hair who was a fixture in their social circle. Her height had earned her a spot on the basketball team for the past two years alongside Jess. Sometimes Jess envied how excited Fran could get over the smallest things, like the new chairs in the cafeteria this year. She’d said she liked how they curved at the top and cradled your back like a hug. She was also one of those people who ended her sentences not with periods, but smiley faces, an all-around happy, bouncy—sometimes unnerving—person. “Did you tell her?” she repeated.

  “No,” Kelly replied. “She wouldn’t care anyway. She don’t care about anything important.”

  Jess chewed a burger that didn’t taste like a burger and picked at the fries on Kelly’s plate.

  “Alex Thornbush is in love with you!” Fran delivered the news to Jess as though she were telling her she’d won the lottery. Jess knew that for girls like Fran a boy was a bigger prize than a basketball championship.

  “Who?” Jess asked, holding a fry in midair.

  “Only the captain of the football team!” Kelly shouted, turning to Fran. “I swear, she don’t care about anything that matters.”

  “Oh yeah,” Jess replied, suddenly distracted by the sight of Stephanie walking into the cafeteria, flanked on each side by two cheerleaders. She must be on the squad this year, Jess thought. “I think I know him.”

  “You think?” Fran laughed. “You’re breakin’ that boy’s heart. He was squawkin’ about you all through study hall.”

  “No kidding.” Jess wasn’t impressed.

  “Then you know,” Fran continued, “I was the popular one because I talk to you. So he asked me if you ever talk about him, if you might like him…I said I didn’t know for sure but I would ask you. So whaddaya want me to tell him?”

  Jess caught Stephanie’s eyes while she moved through the lunch line. She was transfixed by those eyes; they always seemed to look through her. She’d almost forgotten. The school and everything in it was different now because Stephanie was there. She ducked her head, taking an unnatural interest in the contents of her lunch tray. Minutes later, when she looked up again, Stephanie’s eyes were fixed on her. As she pivoted and came toward their table, Jess felt herself turning into a glowing ball of radiation.

  “Jess?” Fran said. “Give me something I can tell him.”

  Jess had forgotten what Fran was talking about. “Tell who?”

  Kelly shook her head at Fran and laughed. “Told you.”

  “Hey, Jesse,” Stephanie said shyly.

  “Jess,” she corrected. She could hear Kelly whispering across the table.

  “Oh,” Stephanie said. “I used to call you that.” There was an awkward pause. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Jess thought she was going to die. “Yeah, I do.”

  Stephanie smiled. “We moved back.”

  “That’s great.” Her voice was expressionless.

  One of the cheerleaders behind Stephanie was getting bored. “Can we go now?” she whined.

  “Well,” Stephanie said. “See you around?”

  “Yeah,” Jess replied.

  She watched as Stephanie, sitting at another table, talked with her friends. All kinds of foreign, bizarre emotions took hold of her—jealousy toward the girls sitting with her, anger that she hadn’t been able to speak more than a syllable, humiliation at what she must have looked like. If only life had a rewind button.

  “You know her?” Kelly bristled.

  “I used to.”

  “She’s new, and she’s already a cheerleader.” Kelly’s eyes darted to each of her friends, the jury, whom she always expected to agree with her. The judge handed down her verdict: “She’s too new to be so popular.”

  Fran glanced over at Stephanie. “She is pretty.”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed, not appreciating Fran’s dissension. The verdict was final and not to be challenged.

  Jess heard them talking as if she were underwater. The heat boiling inside of her wouldn’t go away, and she feared it showed on the outside. She glanced at the cheerleader table again and caught Stephanie looking back at her again. She had always had such intelligent eyes. Jess wondered what she thought of her now. Somehow that was very important. Jess ran a hand through her jagged bangs, all of a sudden wondering what the top of her hair was doing.

  Suddenly everything came rushing back—the rippling river, Stephanie defending her when the class laughed at her, the swings under a storm and the ominous news that she was leaving…The cafeteria turned into a merry-go-round, spinning with memories and hot flashes and other unidentifiable but equally frightening things. Jess had never liked the faces of horses on merry-go-rounds, especially those with their teeth bared as if preparing to attack…

  She had to get some air. To make everything stop. She bolted out of her seat and dashed to the girls’ restroom where she could splash some cold water on her face. She rose up from the sink and saw herself in the mirror. The person staring back was a stranger. The cool, confident girl from earlier in the day had been reduced to a shaking leaf ready to fall in the breeze. What was happening?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You got Coach Purvis?” Ivy laughed as they shot hoops on the driveway. They had had a strained relationship ever since Jess made fun of her sister for wearing dresses and liking boys. But things had begun to thaw one fateful night. It began with Jess, hunched over her Algebra II book at the kitchen table. Ivy had come downstairs for a late night snack.

  “Hey,” Ivy said, rubbing a green apple against her nightshirt.

  Jess didn’t answer; her face was practically pressed against the pages of her textbook.

  Ivy came closer, looking over her shoulder. “You’re a month into the school year, and you’re only on page one?”

  “Don’t start,” Jess snapped.

  “Well, look…”

  Jess held up her hand as if to block her. But Ivy ignored her and pulled out a chair. “What’s going on?”

  Jess exhaled and raised her head from the book. “Don’t get all judgmental.”

  “You could try not judging me for a change.” Ivy got that huffy look she’d become known for within the family. “I may not be a sports…person…but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with other things.”

  “Okay,” Jess said. “I’m going to fail Algebra II.”

  “I can help with that.” Ivy scooted her chair closer to the table, getting almost excited at the possibility of doing math problems. Jess wondered if she’d been adopted. “What chapter are you on?”

  “None,” Jess replied.

  “Huh?”

  Jess br
oke into a laugh. “That’s the problem. I got this weird teacher, Mr. Blount.”

  “Oh yeah,” Ivy said knowingly. “I didn’t have him, but I hear everyone loves him.”

  “I don’t.” She flipped several pages at a time, as if she didn’t care.

  “What does he do?” Ivy asked.

  “He hasn’t let us open our books yet,” Jess explained. “He talks in a real abstract way about math. He says shit like math is all around us. He even pointed to this girl in the front row and said math was in her hair.”

  Ivy sat back. “Let me get this straight…he hasn’t done any problems yet?”

  “Yeah.” Jess was almost in tears. “He’s givin’ us a test tomorrow and said we’ll understand the problems automatically if we’ve been listenin’ to his lectures. It’s supposed to all come together. I’ve been listenin’, but nothin’ is coming together.”

  Ivy nodded, as if everything had come into focus. “He’s right,” she said.

  Jess’s face fell. Of course she’d side with the teacher, no matter how weird.

  “No,” Ivy insisted. “I mean, math is all around. But y’all have been taught to do problems on a board your whole life, so tryin’ to come at it, like you said, so abstract is gonna freak everyone out.”

  She did understand. “So what am I gonna do?”

  “What’s the test on?” Ivy asked.

  Jess showed her the chapters, and her sister went to work on the blank notebook pages, explaining how to do the actual problems. It was after midnight, but they plugged along until Jess understood. Her older sister saved her life that night.

  Ivy yawned. “You good now?”

  Jess checked the clock. It was almost two in the morning. “Yeah, thanks.”

  As Ivy got up to leave, Jess turned around in her chair. “Thanks, Straight A’s.”

  But the smile on her face indicated she’d meant it as a term of endearment now, not as an insult. So Ivy smiled back. Their relationship seemed to have crossed into another realm of bonding that night—until Ivy said, “You owe me big-time now.”