Cut it out!” J.P. yelped. “Let me go!” said Liz, as George grabbed both of them by the shoulders and yanked them into a side corridor after math class. Despite their complaints, neither of them looked too upset.
“I just want to know how you did it,” George said. “And don’t even think about saying ‘the poltergeist did it.’” He gave J.P., whose mouth was already open, a warning look. “Come on, tell me the truth.”
Liz spoke first. She seemed to be the most embarrassed. “We got a ride over here at 5 this morning,” she said, “and J.P. got the cow out.”
“You got a ride? With who?”
Liz shrugged, but her face turned red. George decided to let it be.
“How did you get past the barbed wire?”
“There’s a spot where the wire’s loose,” J.P. said. “Liz held it up while I led the cow through. Aw, come on, George. You have to admit it was a pretty cool joke.”
George remembered Mr. Bickerstaff’s angry expression. If someone from the county office decided to make a stink about this, no pun intended…“No, I don’t think it was,” he said. “You might have gotten the school in trouble.”
“Who cares?” Liz retorted. “I hope they do shut us down. Then I could go back to a real school with a basketball team.” She tossed her ponytail. “And you could go back to a real school with a real wrestling team. So what’s up with you playing cop, George? Why do you care so much?”
George hesitated, not knowing what to say. “Because I have to,” he muttered at last. It was that Truth thing again. Can’t take him anywhere.
The truth wasn’t done with George yet. On the bus heading for the the first wrestling meet of the season, George was talking with the rookies, who were anxious. Mahoney, the red- head he had wrestled the first day on practice, was particularly nervous. George had decided to give him a pep talk. But then he overheard Tyler talking.
“Oh, homeschooler,” Tyler crooned to Brian who was reading his science homework, “You are so going to get creamed.”
“Yeah, we’ll be scraping you off the mats.” said Brock.
“Ready for a good pounding today?” Flynt added.
Brian looked out the window, red-faced, and George felt his conscience prick. He’d been leaving Brian alone, but Brian was his classmate and was just as worried as the other rookies.
“Ignore them,” George muttered to Brian, moving his gear into the seat behind him. “You’ll do fine.”
It was the first thing he’d said to Brian in a long time. “Thanks,” Brian said stiffly. “You don’t need to look out for me.”
Fine. I don’t want to anyhow. George stared out the window. I don’t need to stick my neck out. He can go and get himself beaten up if that’s what he wants…
And I’ll just stand and watch…
… yeah, right.
He sneaked a glance at Tyler and his goons. They were looking in Brian’s direction and whispering to each other. George resolved to be on his guard.
He was worried about Brian. The heavy workouts in practices had put Brian in better condition, but he still looked pretty light. George wondered how Brian would do in his first competitive match.
Guess I could pray for him, he admitted to himself. His rosary was still in his pocket from school, and last year he had started praying before his matches. The ride to this meet was long, and he might as well pray that they both would do well in the competition, and be able to handle whatever Tyler was planning. Even if I never get any thanks for it…
The Sparrow Hills team was taking a beating at the meet. Only George and Tyler had defeated their opponents.
When the announcer called the 103-pound class wrestlers, Brian walked out to the circle as determined as George had ever seen him. But no opponent walked out to meet him.
“The winner of the 103-lb class is Brian Burke: a win for Sparrow Hills!” the announcer blared.
Brian’s jaw dropped in surprise. Tyler and his friends hooted with laughter. Bewildered, Brian sat down, amid a scattering of polite applause. In his confusion, he seemed to forget he wasn’t speaking to George.
“I didn’t wrestle anyone. How did I win?”
“There wasn’t anyone else on the other squad in your weight class, so you won by default,” George explained.
Understanding and shame dawned on Brian’s face. “That’s why they wanted me on the team,” he said in a low voice. “Not because I’m good, but because I’m light.”
What an upset! You won, man!” Tyler chortled to Brian as the team jogged back into the locker room.
Brock and Flynt chimed in. “You are the man, Burke! Way to go!”
“Homeschooler is a hunk!”
George stayed close to Brian as the bigger wrestlers butted up against him on the way into the crowded locker room.
If he hadn’t been watching for it, he might have missed it. Brock and Flynt suddenly turned their playful joshing into gorilla holds on Brian’s arms and started dragging him into a side corridor.
Not wasting a moment, George yanked Flynt by the back of his uniform, and thrust his foot between Brock’s legs, tripping him. At the same time he grabbed Brian and pulled him out of their grasp.
Flynt grabbed for George’s legs in a scuffle of movement but George backpedaled and managed to get Brian behind him. Flynt and Brock got to their feet with looks of surprise on their faces. The rest of the team gave the four of them a wide berth as they confronted each other.
“Peterson!” said Flynt. “What are you doing?”
George didn’t reply. Breathing hard, he looked both Flynt and Brock in the eyes, watching them for any sudden moves.
“Come on, George,” Brock said. “Let us do our jobs. You know the rules.”
“Let’s pretend I don’t,” George growled. “What are the rules again?”
Flynt rolled his eyes. “Everybody gets the initiation. This little shrimp missed his. He’s got to get it sometime. It’s only fair. Come on, get out of the way.”
George didn’t move.
“Look,” Brock said, apparently trying to reason with him. “There’s two of us and one of you. How do you think you’re gonna stop us, anyway?”
“Let’s find out,” George said. “And see if Coach notices.”
Flynt and Brock hesitated, and looked at each other. Then grudgingly, the two big wrestlers backed away. “We’ll get him, Peterson. You can’t stop it,” Flynt warned.
It was only after he saw them disappear towards the showers that George turned to Brian.
“Are you okay?” George asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Brian mumbled. He looked at George with a curiously rueful expression.
“Thanks,” he said, finally.
“No problem,” George grunted.
“Why did you stop them?” Brian said, a touch of the old anger creeping back into his voice. “Why didn’t you just let them do whatever it was? I mean, I’m grateful and all, of course, but…if it’s going to happen, I’d rather just get it over with.”
George bit back an angry retort. When he got control of himself, he spoke again in a softer voice. “Brian, you don’t understand,”
“What don’t I understand?” snapped Brian.
“They’re going to do something worse to you, because you squealed on them.”
Brian closed his mouth.
George swallowed. “You were right about the porn,” he admitted. “And I don’t think you should get beaten up for that. I mean, you did the right thing. I didn’t.”
His face was red. When he looked back, Brian was regarding him with a new respect.
“I don’t know what to say,” Brian said at last. “Except—thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” George muttered.
Okay, so maybe once in a big while I do get thanked.
So I’m the mascot with nothing to do except show up,” Brian said as they watched another meet at Sparrow Hills.
Despite their rough start, the Sparrow Hills squad had done consid
erably well as the season went on. Now they were heading for the playoffs with a strong standing. And Brian was right: his contribution had been a series of default wins in his weight class.
George was too busy watching Mahoney to answer. Come on, kid, do it…do it…yes! George yelled as the referee’s hand came down. Pin! Mahoney was on his way to being one of the better wrestlers on the squad.
“You always get points and no penalties,” George finally said to Brian. “Way to go, Mahoney!”
“Thanks for the pre-match pointers, George!” the red-faced rookie said as he came off the court.
“Any time,” George said, ignoring Tyler’s glare in his direction. He turned back to Brian. “I lost the team points in my first match—I totally fumbled that double-leg takedown.”
“But you still wrestled,” Brian muttered. “I want to pull my weight.”
“You are pulling your weight.”
“I don’t like being the token featherweight on the team any more than I like being a token black kid on someone’s quota.”
“Brian, you know I’m sorry I ever said that.”
Brian shrugged. “I don’t want special privileges. That’s not why I tried out for the team.”
George was distracted again. Another rookie, Marshall Vickson, was up next. George had been working on takedowns with him during practice and he wanted to see how the rookie did.
“Looks like we got this meet in the bag,” Tyler said, coming down the bleachers. “Lucky they got us pros on the squad, right, Peterson?”
“Yep,” George said, his eyes on the match.
“I see you’ve been doing a lot of assistant coaching,” Tyler said, easing himself into the seat next to George. “That’s great.”
“Thanks,” George said, not at all fooled, and concentrated on Vickson’s struggle to get a grip on his opponent.
“You know, on the Sparrow Hills wrestling squad, it’s usually the squad captain who does that,” Tyler said lightly.
“Really? I had no idea.” I thought the only thing the team captain had to do was throw his weight around, George silently added.
Tyler put his arm around George’s shoulders as though they were friends. “Peterson, I know you’re not the kind of guy who sets out to make trouble, so I’m just going to tell you this once: try to take anything that’s mine, and you’re dead meat. And I mean anything.” He paused and added significantly, “When you see my babe at school, tell her I said hi.”
Allie was getting annoyed with Tyler. He was calling her at school all the time, asking to see her, and she had so much more homework now that she couldn’t hang out anymore with Tyler and his friends after school.
“Brother!” she exclaimed, snapping her cell phone closed after a lunch-hour call. “Every time I turn around, I get another call from him!”
“Then why don’t you just turn your phone off?” George asked. They were only ones left in the classrooms—the others had already gone to the cafeteria.
Allie frowned. “Is it bothering you?” He had seemed out of sorts around her recently.
“Yeah, it bothers me. You should break up with him.”
“Break up with him?” she repeated. “Why?”
George looked out the window. “It’s not like you’re going to the same school with him,” he muttered.
Allie stared at him. “So what? You think I should only date guys I go to school with?”
That got him. George flushed red. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what were you saying?”
“Nothing.”
Allie tossed her phone from hand to hand. “Maybe you want me to break up with Tyler so you can ask me out?” She was enjoying making George blush.
“No! I’m not that dumb.”
“Not dumb enough to go out with me?”
“No!”
“Then what’s your problem?”
“You just don’t seem to like Tyler very much.”
Allie opened her mouth and closed it again. Finally she said, “We’ve been dating for nearly five months. He’s taking me to the Halloween dance. I like him okay. Not that it’s any of your business!”
George got up. She could see his embarrassment had turned to anger. “Okay, sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“Fine! I will!” said Allie, irritated by his quick temper. This conversation was too strange, anyway.
George started out the door and almost ran into Celia.
“Oh!” Celia said. “Sorry! Was I interrupting?”
Allie felt a sinking feeling in her chest as her anger drained away. From the corner of her eye, she saw George going red again.
“Hey, Celia,” he said. “What so you want?”
Celia said, hesitantly, “Well, I wanted to ask you…both of you really…if you could help me out with something?”
“What is it?” Allie said, sitting down at the closest desk. Somehow Celia always made her ashamed of losing her temper.
Celia’s face took on a serious, earnest expression that Allie was quickly learning to recognize. George apparently recognized it too, because he heaved a deep sigh and rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t even say anything yet!” Celia said.
Allie shot him a dirty look. “Go ahead, Celia.”
“You know that idea that James had? About the All Saints Day Party? I really do think it’s a good idea. I think we should do it! It could be a lot of fun. Besides, no one really seems to…well, you know, get along with James, and using his idea would show that we appreciate him. Oh, come on, George!” George had let out a groan at James’ name. “At least think about it! So I need you guys to help me convince the others. What do you think?”
“Well…” Allie said uneasily. “I guess we could try it. Even if it was James’ idea.”
“Won’t that just encourage James in the wrong way?” George said acidly. “Honestly, Celia, he thinks that trick-or-treaters go to hell!”
Celia sighed. “Would it be so terrible to do something that James wanted to do?”
“Personally, I think it’s a waste of time. I don’t know why you keep trying to include him in everything,” George said. “He doesn’t like any of us.”
“Brian thinks the party’s a good idea,” Celia said. “And if you guys are on board, I’m sure we can convince Liz and J.P.”
Allie shrugged. An All Saints’ party was kind of dorky, but not unbearably so; and it was obviously very important to Celia. “All right, let’s do it!”
George was trying to keep a straight face. “And Celia can go as the patron saint of lost causes.”
“Oh, come on, you guys!” Celia said, but she smiled.
“Wait a sec.” Allie had a sudden thought. “When would this thing be, anyway?”
“Halloween night—this Friday at eight, so Liz can still go trick-or-treating at seven.”
“Sparrow Hills always has a big Halloween dance that night,” Allie said, wavering. “I’m going with Tyler.”
“So go with him,” George said grumpily.
“Maybe I could go to both…”
That was enough for Celia. “Okay then!” she said, laughing and grabbing her lunch. She threw open the door. There was a thud and a hoarse cry of pain.
“James! I’m so sorry!”
James was standing in the hallway, holding both hands to his face. His face—what they could see of it—was screwed up in pain, and Celia was apologizing. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were out there!”
“What were you doing there?” George demanded.
“Coming back for my lunch,” James retorted, nursing an angry red bump on his forehead.
“Maybe you better go put some ice on that,” Allie said, trying to be helpful.
“James,” Celia said impulsively, “We were just talking again about your idea for an All Saint’s Day party. We really like it!”
“Yeah!” Allie said, thinking that she sounded phony.
James hardly seemed to be paying attention. “Really?”
he muttered, feeling his bump.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” George said with a fake smile.
James looked at him with undisguised dislike. “And what saint are you going to be?”
Glaring back, George said, “Isn’t that supposed to be a surprise?”
“We can keep our costumes a secret until the party and then everyone can guess which saints we are!” Celia said exultantly.
Great, Allie thought. She had no idea how to dress up like a saint, and if the costumes were supposed to be secret, how could she ask Celia for help? Plus, if she was going to both events, she needed to find a costume that would qualify as a saint, but not look stupid at the Sparrow Hills Halloween dance.
“I certainly hope you will surprise us all, Miss Weaver,” Creepy Boy said, seeming to read her thoughts. “I suggest you look closely at the cloistered orders of nuns for inspiration.”
Allie ignored him and turned to Celia. “Right. So what do saints wear?”
“I’ve got some books you can borrow,” Celia said. “And I have all sorts of ideas for games and things…”
“No,” James interrupted. “It was my idea. I will do the planning. The rest of you can help, according to my directions.”
George, clearly irritated by this, gritted his teeth. Why did those two hate each other so much? Allie wondered.
James waved his hand. “Don’t worry, Georgie, I’ll let you bake some brownies,” he said contemptuously. “The rest of you can take care of the other refreshments. I’ll plan the main event.”
Celia started talking again, and Allie and George, by an unspoken agreement, both ducked out the door and ran down the corridor as fast as they could. Looking at each other, and stifled their laughter until they were inside the cafeteria and had closed the doors. Then both of them burst out laughing, bewildering the other students.
“What is it?” J.P. demanded. “What?”
But George only gasped for breath, and Allie couldn’t have explained it if she tried.
You look happy for a change,” George’s mom said when she arrived to pick him up.
He eased his bike into the back of the car with a practiced maneuver, then slammed the door and got into the front seat next to her. "Hey, Mom, where can I get a priest’s cassock?”
Catholic, Reluctantly (The John Paul 2 High Series) Page 12