Don't Bet On Love

by Sheri Cobb South

  “I’m sorry I asked!” Mark stood up, took the ball from Gary, and dribbled it across the floor.

  “Mark, you know Mom doesn’t like you dribbling in the house,” I reminded him.

  “Mom's not here, and you can’t tell her, because you still owe me twenty-five dollars,” Mark answered. Tucking the ball under his arm, he sauntered out of the room.

  “See what I have to put up with?” I said to Gary with a sigh. I sat down on the couch and gestured for him to have a seat. “I just had an idea,” I told him. “Why don't you eat lunch with me and my friends tomorrow? It’ll give you a great opportunity to practice talking to girls.”

  “I don’t know…” Gary removed his glasses and began to polish them absently on the tail of his T-shirt.

  “Why not?” I asked, warming to the idea. “They won’t bite, I promise. Beth loves everybody, and Jan—”

  I broke off abruptly as Gary looked up from cleaning his glasses, and for the first time I really saw his eyes. They were the same chestnut brown as his hair, with long, thick lashes most girls would kill for.

  I must have looked astonished, because he asked. “Molly? What's wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just—your eyes.” I couldn’t seem to tear my own eyes away from his.

  “What about them?” Gary asked nervously.

  “They’re beautiful! Why do you keep them hidden?”

  “What do you mean?” He put his glasses back on, and the spell was broken.

  “That's what I mean,” I informed him. “They’re hidden behind those hideous glasses!”

  Gary laughed. “You don’t like my glasses, huh? I'll admit, they were made for durability, not style. They're sports frames—unbreakable.”

  “Have you ever thought about getting different frames for every day?” I asked. “Maybe something a little less—er—bulky?”

  Gary shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. The lenses are so thick, it takes really sturdy frames to support them.”

  “What about contact lenses?”

  “To tell you the truth, I have a pair at home,” he confessed.

  “Then why don't you wear them?”

  “I used to, except when I played basketball. But then, after the season started, I spent so much time taking them out and putting them back in, it was easier just to wear the glasses and leave the contacts at home.”

  “But basketball season is almost over now, isn’t it?” I persisted.

  “Yeah. I guess I just got out of the habit.”

  “Well, if you want your dream girl to notice you, get back into the habit,” I ordered him. “Immediately! I want to see you wearing those contacts tomorrow at lunch!”

  “Yes, sir!” Gary barked, snapping his right hand up in a salute.

  That made me feel guilty. “Am I awfully bossy?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “But I don't mind. I’ll do anything you say if it’ll get me that prom date with Colette.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Now, remember,” I told Jan and Beth In the cafeteria the next day, “Gary Hadley is going to eat lunch with us, and I want both of you to be nice to him. You know, I think there may be hope for him after all. Just wait till you see him! You're in for the surprise of your life!”

  I was so eager for my friends to see Gary without his glasses that I could hardly eat. Instead, I pushed lukewarm macaroni and cheese around on my plate, looking up every time the cafeteria door opened.

  I'd been doing that for about ten minutes when the door opened once more and several kids came in.

  “There he is now,” Beth said.

  I spotted Gary at the same time. But something was wrong. He was wearing his glasses! I slumped back in my chair, bitterly disappointed.

  “Amazing,” Jan breathed, choking back a giggle. “I never would have recognized him!”

  “Will you knock it off, Jan?” I snapped irritably. “It isn't funny!”

  I was so impatient to find out what had gone wrong that I could hardly sit still while Gary went through the lunch line. At last he reached the front of the line, paid for his meal, and came directly to our table.

  “Hi, Molly,” he said sheepishly, folding himself into the empty chair next to mine.

  “What happened?” I asked as soon as he sat down. “I thought you were going to wear your contacts!”

  “Well,” he began, “there’s a little problem…”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Last time I took them out and cleaned them, I must have left them soaking in the wrong solution,” he mumbled. “When I opened the case this morning to take them out, there was nothing but a sort of film floating on the surface.”

  “You mean…?”

  Gary nodded sadly. “I vaporized them.”

  “I can't believe you did that.” I squawked.

  “It’s easier than it sounds, Molly, believe me,” Beth spoke up. “Something like that happened to me once.”

  “You wear contacts, too?” Gary asked her.

  She nodded. “For about a year now. So does Jan. It’s unreal, isn’t it? I mean, all the care that goes into those things.”

  “And once you take the contacts out, you have to put on your glasses, anyway,” Gary added.

  “Exactly!” Beth agreed, glad to find a kindred spirit. “People with perfect vision just can’t understand.”

  Since I was the only person at the table with twenty-twenty vision, I knew that comment was aimed at me. Without warning, I felt a small stab of resentment against Beth for making me feel like an outsider while she monopolized Gary’s attention. But the feeling vanished as soon as it had come, making me ashamed of myself. After all, I had invited Gary to join us so that he could practice talking to girls, and that’s exactly what he was doing.

  Now that the ice had been broken, things went well for the rest of the lunch period. Beth was prepared to think the best of Gary from the start, and even Jan, who was considerably more cynical, managed to unbend enough to ask him about the outlook for next year’s basketball team. By the time Beth and Jan left the cafeteria, they had won my undying gratitude. As for Gary, a mere two days earlier I never would have thought it possible that he could talk so easily with two girls he hardly knew.

  “You were great!” I told him after Beth and Jan were gone. “See? Our basketball practice yesterday really paid off. You kept the conversational ball bouncing back and forth…”

  I chattered on for quite a while before I realized that I was talking to myself. Gary’s attention had drifted to a point across the cafeteria from where we sat. Following his lovesick gaze, I wasn’t terribly surprised to discover Colette Carroll sitting in the midst of a group of Carson High's most popular kids. It was kind of touching, in a way. I couldn't help wishing that somebody—not Gary Hadley, of course, but somebody—would look at me like that.

  “Gary? Are you listening?” I asked, knowing the answer perfectly well. “Gary?!”

  Gary turned and looked at me as if he'd just remembered that I was there. “Did you say something, Molly?”

  “Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “It wasn't important.”

  Gary was absent the next afternoon because he had an appointment to be fitted for new contacts. After a week of playing fairy godmother, I thought I would be ready for a break, but oddly enough I sort of missed him. During algebra class I decided to take the opportunity to have a few words with Colette myself on Gary’s behalf. When the bell rang, I waited for her, and we left the room together.

  “What do you think of Mr. Mitchell?” I asked as we walked down the hall, referring to our algebra teacher.

  “I try not to think of him at all,” Colette replied with a grimace. “I’m terrible at algebra. If I didn’t need the math credit, I wouldn't be taking this stupid class.”

  “I know the feeling,” I said, a little surprised to find that I had something in common with the divine Colette Carroll. “But if you ever need a tutor, I know a guy who’s really good.�
��

  “Oh, really?” Colette asked, looking interested. “Who?”

  “Gary Hadley,” I said casually.

  Colette’s delicately arched eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown. “Who?”

  “Gary Hadley,” I repeated. “He’s in your history class.”

  Colette's brow cleared. “Oh, now I know who you mean! The tall, gawky guy with the dorky glasses.” She gave a short laugh. “I'll keep him in mind, if I ever get really desperate!”

  As I watched her make her way down the hall, a sudden surge of anger flooded through me. Of course, she hadn’t said anything about Gary that I hadn't said myself. But somehow it was different now. At that moment I wished I could turn Gary into a real dreamboat, just to show Colette what she was missing!

  Gary was back in school the following morning, this time without his glasses. I saw him in the hall, but he walked right past me without speaking. I guessed he had something on his mind—or, rather, somebody. Colette Carroll, most likely.

  “Gary?” I called after him.

  He turned quickly at the sound of my voice, and those gorgeous eyes, still so unexpected, hit me with their full force. “Oh, hi, Molly,” he said. “I didn’t see you.”

  “So, how was your visit to the doctor?”

  “Okay,” he answered, falling into step beside me. “Did anything interesting happen while I was out?”

  I decided not to mention my brief encounter with Colette. “Are you kidding? Does anything interesting ever happen around here?”

  “Last night I had a brilliant idea,” Gary announced. “Since I missed history yesterday, I could ask Colette if I can borrow her notes! Think that’ll work?”

  “I don’t see why not,” I said without enthusiasm.

  He smiled dreamily. “I’ll bet even her handwriting is beautiful!”

  I was getting pretty sick of hearing about how perfect Colette Carroll was, and I was sorely tempted to tell Gary a thing or two about his precious Colette. But I bit back the nasty remark on the tip of my tongue. It would only hurt his feelings if he knew what she’d said. Besides, he was bound to find out sooner or later that she had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever.

  “That’s what I’ll do,” Gary said decisively as we started down the stairs. “I’ll go right up to her before class starts and—aaaggghhh!”

  I watched in horror and several kids shrieked as Gary lost his balance and tumbled headlong down the stairs, his books flying in all directions.

  “Gary!” I cried, hurrying down the stairs to where he lay in a tangled heap at the bottom. Dropping to my knees beside him, I asked, “Gary, are you all right?”

  “Well, I’ve been better,” he said, cautiously sitting upright on the bottom step.

  “What happened?”

  “I kind of missed the first step. I guess I didn't see it.”

  “Didn’t see it?” I echoed indignantly. “But you just got new contacts! Where did that doctor of yours get his degree? Mail-order med school?”

  “I'm not wearing my contacts,” Gary answered, rubbing the back of his head. “They won't be available for two more weeks.”

  I stared at him. “You mean you've been running around school half blind? How have you managed?”

  “Not too great,” he confessed. “Once I almost went into the girls' rest room by mistake, and then I got chewed out for not paying attention in class when I couldn’t see what was written on the blackboard.”

  “But if you can’t see any better than that, why on earth didn’t you just wear your glasses?”

  “Well, you said they were ugly, and you seemed to think it was so important to make a big impression on Colette, and—”

  “Oh, you’ll make a big impression on her when you show up at school in a body cast!” I said sharply. “What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?”

  I guess I came down pretty hard on him—too hard, maybe. But as long as I was scolding Gary, I didn’t have to analyze the feeling of sheer terror that had come over me when I saw him fall, or my overwhelming sense of relief when I knew he hadn't been hurt.

  “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Gary mumbled. “Guess I was wrong.”

  I had started to gather his scattered books, but something about the tone of Gary's voice made me turn back. With his disheveled hair and long-lashed brown eyes he looked so much like a sorrowful little boy that all my anger melted away.

  “Just take it easy, okay?” I said, smiling “You don’t want to break a leg this close to prom night. How would you dance with Colette?”

  “Dance?” Gary looked horrified. “Do you mean I’ll have to dance?”

  “That’s what people usually do at a prom you know,” I pointed out.

  “Well, yeah, but I don’t know how,” he confessed. “I thought maybe we could just sit on the sidelines and watch.”

  “If you try that with Colette, you’ll find yourself sitting alone while she dances with everybody else.” I said firmly. “Look, since you don’t know how to dance, I’ll teach you. Come over to my house Saturday morning at about eleven, okay? There's nothing to it, I promise. You’ll be surprised at how easy it is.”

  “I have a feeling you'll be the one who’s surprised”—Gary sighed—“but if you say so, I guess I’ll be there.”

  He rose stiffly to his feet, and I frowned, noticing the way he winced. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m positive,” he said, taking the books I held out to him. “Come on. I’ll walk you to class so you can see for yourself that I’m still in one piece.”

  “But shouldn’t you go home and get your glasses?”

  “I’ve got them right here.” He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out his glasses, and inspected them for damage. “How about that?” he remarked, grinning at me as he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose. “These things really are unbreakable!”

  “Do you mean to tell me that after watching Gary Hadley trip over his own two feet and tumble down a flight of stairs, you volunteered to teach him to dance?” Jan asked incredulously when I reported the episode to her and Beth at lunch. “Don't you think that sounds a little dangerous?”

  “Not really,” I answered. “Not as long as he wears his glasses, anyway.”

  “Then you think Colette might actually go to the prom with him?” Beth asked eagerly.

  I shook my head. “Not a chance.”

  “Then why bother with the dancing lessons?” Jan put in.

  I hesitated for a moment before answering. I’d been asking myself the same question for the past two hours. Finally I said, “I can’t tell Gary he’s wasting his time on Colette, especially when he’s risking life and limb just to get her to notice him. It would break his heart.”

  “I don’t know, Molly,” Beth said, frowning. “It might be best to level with him right away. How do you know you’re not setting him up for a bigger disappointment later on?”

  “I've thought about that,” I replied. “But I promised Gary I'd help him. I can't go back on my word no matter how hopeless it seems. Besides, I feel kind of responsible for him.”

  Jan spoke up. “Can I tell you what I think?” I had to smile at her question. Nobody had ever been able to stop Jan from speaking her mind before. “I think you’re taking the whole thing too personally, Molly. Gary’s seventeen years old—he’s not a little kid. He’s certainly old enough to take care of himself. In my opinion, you ought to be thinking about getting yourself a date for the prom instead of playing cupid for Gary Hadley.”

  Beth and Jan left the cafeteria fifteen minutes later, leaving me to finish my lunch alone. As always, Jan had made a strong case for her point of view. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was getting too personally involved. That would explain why I’d overreacted, first to Colette's remarks about Gary and then to Gary’s fall. As for my own dateless state, I couldn’t have cared less.

  Gazing across the cafeteria, I saw Colette at her usual table, presiding over a group of the school’s “be
autiful people.” She looked chic and lovely and totally oblivious of the fact that a sweet, clumsy boy had nearly broken his neck in a misguided effort to impress her. I had to admit that Beth was right, too. There was a big difference between building Gary’s confidence and raising false hopes.

  Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice when Eddie and Steve sat down on either side of me until Steve spoke.

  “Scouting her out, huh, Molly?” he asked. “How’s our man doing, anyway?”

  “Well, he’s improving,” I said slowly. “Of course, that's not saying much—there was plenty of room for improvement. There still is, for that matter.”

  “So Mark isn't counting his money yet?” Eddie asked, grinning broadly.

  I shook my head. “No. I wouldn't count mine, either, if I were you. But I’d say the odds are definitely in your favor.”

  Steve chuckled. “I tried to warn him, but you know what Mark’s like once he gets an idea into his head.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, dismissing Mark with a shrug. “But listen, guys, I’ve been thinking. Let's assume that you two win the bet and Mark pays up. Then what?”

  They both looked completely blank.

  “What do you mean?” Steve asked.

  “What happens to Gary?” I asked earnestly. “He's really crazy about Colette—you know that. If she turns him down, he could really be hurt. How about calling off this stupid bet?”

  “No way!” Eddie said. “You're thinking like a girl, Molly.”

  “Yeah, Molly,” Steve added. “Gary's tougher than that. Guys just aren't that sensitive about that sort of thing.”

  “Well, I guess you know him better than I do,” I said. But I wasn't at all sure they did.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  No matter how confused my feelings were, the fact remained that I still owed Mark money for that traffic ticket. Until I paid him off, I’d have to continue with Gary’s tutoring. So when Saturday morning rolled around. I collected my allowance from Dad and paid Mark his weekly installment of five dollars. I spent the next hour or so searching through my collection of cassettes for appropriate dance music, and by the time Gary arrived, I was prepared for our lesson.