“Gosh, Allison,” said Karen breathlessly. “You’re quite a little fireball!”
Allison pretended to laugh. “Sometimes it’s fun to play rough.”
“Well, just don’t get carried away,” Karen warned.
“Same to you,” Allison muttered under her breath as she jogged back to the locker room.
She quickly showered and dressed, managing to ignore Shirley the whole time and leave for the next class without her. At least the next class was art, something she liked. After that she could join up with Heather again. And then, at last, they could all go home.
Allison sighed in relief as the last bell of the day finally rang. She and Heather gathered what they needed from their lockers, then trudged out to the parking lot. The fog had lifted, and now the sun was shining brightly.
“Hi, girls,” said Andrew as Heather and Allison waited by the jalopy. He opened the door for them. “Game days are the only days I can give you girls a ride home, Allison,” he explained as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “The rest of the time I have practice after school, but Grace picks up Heather on those days and you can ride with her. Or if you want, there’s always the bus—but it does take forever.”
Allison just nodded.
“Are you okay, Allison?” Andrew asked.
“Just tired” was all she said.
“Sure, I bet it was a drain. Your first day and everything.”
Allison nodded again, trying not to remember how Andrew had looked at Karen.
“How was it having every class with Shirley?” Heather asked.
Allison just groaned.
“When I was a little boy, my father used to say that what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.” Andrew looked at her knowingly.
“Then I should be able to sprint a hundred miles and lift a ton,” Allison replied with a sad sigh.
“That bad, eh?” Andrew said with a note of sympathy.
Allison swallowed the lump in her throat. If only he knew. Her troubles with Shirley Jenson seemed like nothing. Shirley was a piece of cake compared to the gorgeous Karen Brown. But how could she explain to Andrew, or even Heather, that it was Karen who was making her life perfectly miserable right now?
“Are you just about ready?” James called up the stairs. “We should be on our way pretty soon.”
Allison stared at herself in the mirror again. Maybe she should have changed her clothes. But then again, she liked this outfit, even though it was the same thing she had worn to school today. Why should it matter when her jacket would just cover it up anyway? Besides, Andrew wouldn’t be able to see her sitting up in the stands. Why was she so worried about all of this in the first place?
“Allison?” James called again.
“Coming.” She told herself to quit fretting as she ran down the stairs.
“We don’t want to miss the kick off.”
“What’s that?” asked Allison as they got into the car.
James began a long-winded explanation about football as he backed out of the driveway. It sounded a little like soccer, but Allison was unable to follow everything—first down, interception—what difference did it really make?
They picked up Grace, Heather, and Winston. Allison was relieved to end the football lecture and hop in the backseat next to Heather and Winston, but Winston and James began the subject again.
“Heather, do you understand football?” Allison asked.
“A bit. Andrew has tried to explain it to me, and I’ve gotten so I can imagine all the guys moving up and down the yard lines. But there are a lot of rules, and I must admit it seems just a little silly sometimes.”
Allison laughed. “But everyone seems to be very excited about it. I guess I’ll have to learn to appreciate it.”
Heather smiled. “Perhaps for Andrew’s sake . . .”
Allison stared at Heather, trying to understand if there was more to what she was saying. “For Andrew’s sake?”
“Yes, he was very excited that you were finally going to see him play, Allison.”
“Really?” she asked, her hopes soaring.
“Of course, you silly. You know how much Andrew thinks of you.” Heather reached over and squeezed Allison’s arm.
Allison wanted to hug Heather and thank her over and over, but instead she just said, “That’s nice to know.” Heather giggled.
They arrived in plenty of time for the kick off. Grace, James, and Winston sat in the general admission area in the center of the grandstand, while Heather and Allison sat off to one side on the perimeter of the student section. Allison wasn’t sure she wanted to sit right in the middle of a bunch of kids she didn’t really know yet, and Heather seemed more comfortable along the edge of the boisterous crowd.
“Does Caroline come to the games?” Allison asked as they waited for the game to begin.
“She doesn’t care much for football,” said Heather. “I’ve invited her before, but she usually says no. I think she doesn’t like to be away from home very much.”
“Why is that?”
“Her brother was taken as a prisoner of war in Germany. He never returned with the other soldiers.”
“Oh dear,” said Allison with a sigh. “I didn’t realize that any of our boys were still there.”
“You don’t hear much about it. But Caroline’s parents learned that some U.S. prisoners are still in Siberia.”
“Do you think her brother is still alive?”
“Caroline is good at keeping a positive outlook, but I’m not sure what I think. I hope he’s okay. Anyway, that’s why she worries about her parents.”
“So that’s why she stays home.”
War never seemed to completely go away. Even today she had been warned that the high school still performed regular bomb drills and not to be surprised if they had to duck under their desks at a moment’s notice.
Allison looked down to where the bright lights glared on the big green field below them. With its neatly marked white lines, it didn’t look all that different from a well-kept soccer field. In the stands kids were calling out to one another, laughing and shouting with anticipation. It was strange to think she might actually get to know them all by name someday.
Everyone seemed happy and excited; even the night air felt as if it were charged with electricity. Allison watched with amusement as the school mascot, dressed as a pirate, leaped around the field in crazy antics. Just behind Allison and Heather the pep band played zippy show tunes. Both football teams were in uniform and down on the field doing warm-up exercises.
“Heather, do you know what Andrew’s uniform number is?” Allison asked.
“It’s thirty-two. Can you see him?”
“Yes, he’s right in the middle. They’re doing jumping jacks. They look sort of silly in their knickers and padded shoulders, not to mention their yellow helmets. They remind me of some science-fiction film about creatures from outer space.”
Heather laughed. “I suppose so. It’s funny hearing you describe it. Grace has gotten so she understands football pretty well, so she usually just tells me what they’re doing, the plays they’re making, field goals, and stuff like that.”
“Maybe we should go sit with Grace and Dad,” offered Allison.
“No, this is more fun,” Heather said. “Do you see anyone you know?”
“I see some faces that look a teeny bit familiar, and—oh no, there’s Shirley. I hope she doesn’t come sit with us.” Allison looked the other way, hoping to avoid Shirley’s eye as well as Heather’s frown. She knew that Heather was still trying to be nice to Shirley. “And now I see Karen Brown down on the field with the other cheerleaders.”
“Karen seemed nice,” said Heather.
Allison bit her lip. “I suppose so. She sure is pretty. . . .”
“Is she a friend of Shirley’s?”
“Shirley is hoping she will be.” Allison wanted to change the subject. “I’m surprised you’re not in the pep band, Heather. Or don’t they use flutes?”
“I suppose they do,” said Heather. “But I don’t think I’d care much for it. They have to march at half time.”
“I’ll bet you’d do just fine,” Allison said.
Heather began to laugh. “I could just imagine me turning left when everyone else turned right and never being able to get back into step. Besides, I prefer orchestra. Hey, I got a letter from John today. You know he’s been writing ever since camp, but Grace always had to read his letters to me. Now he’s gotten his hands on a Braille typewriter at his college, and I can read them myself.”
“That’s super, Heather. Was it a romantic letter?”
Heather smiled. “It depends on what you think is romantic.”
Just then the announcer began to speak, introducing the starting lineup of the visiting team. Then when he started to introduce the home team, the Port View fans began to clap and cheer. Allison found herself joining in and liking it. When Andrew’s name was announced, she actually put her two fingers in her mouth and let out a loud whistle. It was a trick that her friend Patricia had taught her back at Oakmont Academy and something that Miss Snyder, the boarding school’s headmistress, always frowned upon as unladylike.
“Wow, Allison!” said Heather with admiration. “I didn’t know you could whistle like that. You’ll have to teach me how.”
The coin was tossed high in the air, and it was determined that the Port View Pirates would kick off to the visitors.
“Why isn’t Andrew playing?” asked Allison with concern as she watched the ball sail through the air toward the visiting team.
“Because he’s the quarterback,” Heather explained as she listened intently to the announcer. “He plays on the offense team. Since we’re kicking off, you see our defense team. When we get the ball, Andrew will go out.”
Allison nodded, impressed with how well Heather seemed to understand what was going on only by using her ears. Allison tried to follow what was happening down on the field. It didn’t resemble soccer at all. There were several more rules and a lot more stopping and waiting and reorganizing of themselves. She wished they could just get on with it.
“When does Andrew get to play?” she asked after several of these starts and stops.
Just then the students in front of her began to cheer wildly, and the band behind them made lots of noise. Allison looked down at the field but only saw a pile of bodies. The ball was nowhere in sight.
“Right now, I think,” Heather said. “I’m guessing that we just got the ball.”
Allison watched with wide eyes as both teams switched players. “There he is!” she shrieked. “Andrew is on the field. They’re all lining up again. Now that guy in the middle is putting the ball between his legs and throwing it backward. Andrew has it, Heather! He’s walking backward, and all of his guys are running all over the place. He’s throwing the ball, Heather! He threw it really far down the field—and another one of our guys caught it and he’s running, but the other team has almost got him.”
Allison stood up and screamed. “Run! Run!” Everyone else was yelling, too. The player made it to the goal posts. “He did it, Heather!” yelled Allison. “He scored! Andrew threw him the ball and then he scored!”
“I know, Allison!” Heather screamed above the rest of the noise. “Isn’t it swell?”
Allison whistled loudly, then turned and hugged Heather. “This is the greatest!” she shouted. “I never realized how much I like football.”
Heather laughed. “And if you keep it up, you might be able to get a job as a sports commentator!”
Allison laughed, too. “Now they’re lining up again. What do they do now?”
“Hopefully they’ll kick the ball over the goal post and make an extra point.” Even as Heather said the words, the little brown pigskin ball sailed over the goal posts, and the crowd cheered again.
Allison watched Andrew and the others running to the sidelines. It almost seemed as if Andrew was looking for them up in the stands. She was still standing and waved down at him. He didn’t wave back, but she thought she saw his eyes light up—or maybe she imagined it—and it made her feel warm in the cool night air. She remembered what Heather had said in the car. Allison glanced down at Karen as the cheerleaders led another victory yell. Sure, Karen was pretty, but perhaps Allison had overreacted today. Andrew wasn’t the kind of guy to fall for a pretty face. What Allison and Andrew had was much more than that. At least she hoped so.
By half time the Pirates were leading, twenty to thirteen, most of the points a direct result of Andrew’s fine throws. Now Allison knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was definitely a football fan!
“Do you want to get any cocoa or anything for half time?” Allison asked. “I’m starting to get a sore throat from yelling so much. I’ll have to try to whistle more during the second half.”
“I don’t think I want to fight the crowd down there, but if you don’t mind I’d love something to warm up on,” said Heather. “I can save our seats.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind me leaving you alone,” Allison said. “I’d like to stretch my legs a little. I’ll hurry back.” She trotted down the stairs and toward the concession stand.
“Hi there, Allison!” called Shirley, waving from where the cheerleaders stood. “Come here and meet some of my friends!”
Allison smiled and waved, wishing there were some gracious way to avoid this. But then again, it made no sense to be unfriendly, and she didn’t want people to think she was stuck-up.
“Hi, Allison,” said Karen. “So what do you think of our little team?”
“I think they’re great,” Allison said honestly. “And Andrew seems to be having a pretty good night!”
“I’ll say,” said Karen. “Isn’t he something?”
“You know Andrew?” said a tall brunette cheerleader with interest. “I’m Beverly Howard. I don’t think I’ve met you. . . .”
“This is Allison O’Brian,” said Karen before Shirley had a chance to jump in. “Beverly is a sophomore.” Karen turned to Beverly. “Today was Allison’s first day at Port View. She’s good friends with Andrew and Heather—”
“Allison’s my best friend,” interrupted Shirley importantly. She stepped right next to Allison. “We have every class together, don’t we, Allison?”
Karen and Beverly both looked from Shirley to Allison. Allison didn’t know what to say. “I’m here with Heather,” she said lamely. “I just came down for some cocoa. But it was nice to meet you, Beverly.” She turned to Karen and smiled. “And nice to see you again.” To Shirley she said nothing. “I better get those cocoas. Hope we win!”
The girls told her good-bye, and Allison got in the concession line. That Shirley Jenson—best friend indeed! she thought. She knew she had to work on her attitude toward Shirley, but at the moment she was just too steamed. She would have to think about that later.
She carried the hot paper cups of cocoa back into the stands. Now she was almost beginning to see the humorous side of Shirley’s little act. It would make a good story to tell Heather, and they could laugh about it together. As she started up the steps, she was actually chuckling to herself, but her laugh disappeared when she saw Shirley waving at her, sitting right next to Heather. Allison took a deep breath. Forgive and forget, she told herself as she handed Heather her cocoa.
“I hope it’s still hot,” Allison said. She glanced at Shirley. “Did you change seats?”
“Yes, I thought you two looked lonely up here.”
“No, we’re fine,” Allison said coolly.
“But you’re certainly welcome to join us,” said Heather warmly.
“It looks like they’re ready to kick off again,” said Allison. She sipped her cocoa and looked down at the field, determined that Shirley not ruin this for her. “The other team is kicking to us this time, Heather. Do you think Andrew will catch it?”
“Probably not,” Heather said. “But you never know.”
By the last part of the fourth quarter
the other team had made quite a comeback, and now the Pirates were down by a few points.
“Oh dear,” Shirley moaned. “I think we’re going to lose.”
“Don’t say that!” Allison said. “We still have two minutes to make a goal.”
“That’s right,” Heather added. “We won’t give up hope!”
“Well, it doesn’t look very hopeful to me,” Shirley muttered.
Allison blocked Shirley’s negative words out and focused down on the team. “Come on, you guys, you can do it!” she yelled along with the rest of the crowd as they started another play. But Andrew only threw a short pass, and they didn’t move very far down the field.
The clock steadily ticked away, and it was looking less hopeful all the time. Both Allison and Heather were standing now, along with everyone else in the student section. Allison quickly glanced at Shirley, then noticed with irritation that Shirley was actually sitting and nonchalantly filing her nails. It figured!
Allison looked down on the field again. The team was lined up and ready to give it another shot. “Come on, Andrew,” she whispered. “You can do this.” Her teeth were clenched, and every muscle in her body felt tense, as if it might somehow help their team.
The fans were yelling now—encouraging them to make a goal. The guy in the middle, whom Allison now knew was called the center, hiked the ball to Andrew. As usual, Andrew stepped back, getting ready to pass. Even though Andrew’s teammates were spreading out all over the field, the other team’s defense seemed to be all over them. No one was open!
Suddenly, Andrew acted like he’d thrown the ball and began to run, but Allison could see that he had only tucked it under his arm. The crowd went wild! Andrew ran toward the left where the field was open. Soon there were several players from the opposite team chasing him, but Andrew kept running. He was fast—his knees flying high in the air as players dove after him. Finally, just when Allison was sure she could stand the tension no longer, Andrew crossed the goal line, and the crowd went absolutely bananas! Allison too. She leaped into the air and hugged Heather.
Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2 Page 6