YOUR SECRET ADMIRER Page 8

  Well, she still had two days to figure something out.

  She started forward, swinging the ball back, sliding a bit on her final step, and letting it go. Even as it left her hand, she knew she was sunk. The ball sped up the lane, and passed to the left of the pins without touching a single one.

  Her fist hammered the air, and she stomped her foot.

  “Tough luck,” Susan said, beaming. “You owe me a Coke.”

  After changing into their street shoes, they put the balls away. They carried the score sheet and bowling shoes to the counter.

  “Hi, Mel,” Susan said, and handed him the score sheet.

  He squinted at it. He was a skinny, wrinkled little man who chewed gum and smoked a cigarette at the same time. The cigarette jerked up and down. Janice watched, expecting it to fall out. But it stayed tightly pinched between his lips as he rang up the total on his cash register, took their money, and gave them change. “So long, ladies,” he said, squinting through the smoke.

  “See you,” they said.

  They went to the snack bar for the Cokes. Janice paid.

  “You had to buy them last time, too,” Susan pointed out.

  “But you lost three times in a row, before that.”

  “I’ve improved. Now I’m unconquerable.”

  They carried their drinks to a row of seats behind the lanes.

  “Has anyone asked you to the dance yet?” Janice asked.

  “Are you kidding? Me? El chunko?” She sucked her straw, and Janice watched Coke shoot up the clear plastic. Susan took her mouth away. The level of Coke dropped. “How about you?”

  “Glen asked me.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I hit him with my clarinet case.”

  “Good gripes. You’re really asking for trouble with him. You lied to him, you broke his arm, now you’ve whacked him with your case.”

  “He just won’t leave me alone,” Janice said.

  “Have you told your parents about him?”

  “No. I can’t!”

  “Boy, I would.”

  “Maybe I should.” Then she shook her head and drank some of her Coke. “I can handle it myself,” she said.

  “Between Glen and your letter nut, that’s a lot to handle.”

  Janice shrugged. “Anyway, about the dance. What’ll we do? Do you want to go stag, like before?”

  “Yuck! Are you kidding.”

  Janice tried to keep from smiling as Susan gave the answer she expected.

  “What, did you forget about last time? You had that freak who wanted to test the back seat of his Datsun. I got stuck with Arnold Onion-breath. That was the gross-out of all time.”

  “Suppose you had a date?”

  “With Glen? No thanks. He’s your problem. You wouldn’t catch me a mile from that jerk.”

  “Who said anything about Glen? I was thinking about Freddy.”

  “Freddy?”

  “Yeah. You like him, don’t you?”

  She shrugged.

  “He likes you a lot.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Do you remember, back when I showed you the first letter and you said it might have been from Freddy?”

  “Yeah. Because he’s always hanging around you.”

  “Who is always with me when he’s hanging around?”

  “Me?”

  “Right. He hasn’t been interested in me. It’s always been you he liked.”

  Susan frowned. She lowered her mouth to the straw, but seemed too distracted to suck. “I guess it’s possible,” she admitted. “Even if he does like me, though, how do I get him to ask me to the dance?”

  “We’ll think of something.”

  “And quick.”

  “Yeah.” Janice finished her Coke. She looked at the wall clock. “I’d better call home, and tell Dad we’re ready to go. Back in a minute.”

  She went alone to the pay telephone, and dialed Freddy’s number. He answered right away. “All set,” she said, and hung up.

  Then she phoned home. Her father answered. She asked him to come to the bowling alley in half an hour.

  Back at the bench with Susan, she said, “Dad’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Okee-doke.” Susan finished her drink.

  They went outside, and stood in the light of the building’s front entrance.

  “Do you really think Freddy likes me?” Susan asked.

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Has he ever told you anything?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, he always asks about you. That’s about all, but I can tell he’s really flipped over you. Look how he followed us to the movies last week.”

  “Do you really think he followed us?”

  “You, actually.”

  She grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Sure.”

  Down the street, Janice saw the dim, wavering beam of a bicycle light.

  “Tomorrow when you see him…”

  “Hey!” Susan blurted.

  “You have to let him…”

  “Hey, that’s him! That’s Freddy on the bike!”

  “You’re right!” Janice cried out, trying to sound surprised.

  He kept pedaling. When he was close, he said, “Oh, hi!”

  “Hi, Freddy,” Susan said.

  He dismounted, and wheeled his bike over the curb. “Waiting for someone?” he asked.

  “My dad,” Janice said.

  “Where are you going?” Susan asked him.

  “Nowhere much. I just like to ride around, you know? You see all kinds of weird stuff at night.”

  “Like us,” Susan suggested.

  “Oh, you’re not so weird. But a lot of other stuff is.” His foot knocked the kickstand into place and he stepped away from his bike. He pushed his hands deep into the front pockets of his pants. “So.” He smiled. He looked nervous. “You two were bowling, huh? Who won?”

  “Da-duh!” Susan raised her cupped hands like a winning boxer. “Two out of three,” she said.

  “Congratulations.”

  “We always play best two out of three,” Janice explained. “ ‘The loser buys Cokes. That reminds me… I have to go back inside for a minute. If Dad comes, tell him I’ll be right back, okay?”

  She pushed through a glass door of the bowling alley and headed for the restroom. She felt sneaky and glad. If only she could stay with them to watch the results! No way. For the plan to work, they had to be left alone.

  She used the restroom. When she came out, she checked the clock and saw that only four minutes had passed. Not long enough. She took a seat and watched a group of women bowlers. They all wore slacks and white pullovers with Alley Kats inscribed on the back. One, a chubby woman with short straight hair, kept throwing strikes. Janice watched her, amazed, for the next ten minutes. Then she went outside again.

  Freddy and Susan were holding hands. They quickly let go. Both smiled at her and looked guilty.

  “What took you so long?” Susan asked.

  Janice shrugged. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Not here yet.”

  “I ought to get going,” Freddie said. He climbed onto his bike and knocked back the kickstand. “Be seeing you.”

  “So long,” Janice said.

  “See you,” said Susan. She had a special look in her eyes. She watched Freddy pedal away, then turned to Janice. “I don’t believe it,” she said, smiling. “I just don’t believe it. He’s taking me to the dance.”

  “Great!”

  “I don’t believe it. Me.” Her smile faded. “It would be neater if you had a date, too.”

  “I’d just as soon go home right after the game, anyway. Especially since Glen will be around. If I did go to the dance, he’d probably cause trouble.”

  “It won’t be nearly as much fun without you.”

  “Sure it will. You’ll have a great time.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Janice fastened the wide, w
hite belt around her waist, and looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit it—she didn’t look bad. The uniform fit perfectly, since Mom had taken in the pants. It was snug enough to make the most of her figure, but not too tight for breathing. The dark blue went nicely with her eyes.

  She tried the cap on, and decided not to wear it until she had to. Carrying the cap, her clarinet case, and handbag, she started downstairs. Her father, in the living room, snapped to attention and saluted. Janice saluted back. “Do I look okay?”

  “What time is take-off, General?”

  “Dad!”

  He grinned. “You look great.”

  Mom came in from the kitchen. “Oh, how nice.” She walked in a circle around Janice. “Did I take in too much?”

  “No, they’re fine.”

  “They look a little tight.”

  “They’re fine, really.”

  “Let’s get the show on the road,” Dad said.

  They went out to the car. The night was chilly, with a strong wind tumbling leaves down the street.

  “This is real football weather,” Dad said as he opened the passenger door. Janice climbed into the front seat. She unlocked the driver’s door as Mom got in behind her.

  “Will you be warm enough without a coat?” Mom asked.

  “Sure. I can’t wear one, anyway, in the stands.”

  Dad got in. He started the car. “First game of the year,” he said. “Who’s going to win?”

  “Us, of course.”

  “I hear that Ranford has a mighty tough team this year.” He started driving.

  “I hear there’s a dance after the game,” Mom said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t mention it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll go.”

  “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” Mom said. “We can certainly pick you up afterwards.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What is it?”

  Sometimes, Mom was a real pain. Why couldn’t she just let it drop?

  “Janice?”

  “I just don’t feel like going, that’s all.”

  “Isn’t Susan going?”

  “Yes.” The uniform was beginning to feel much too tight. “She’s got a date, though.”

  “Oh, how nice. Who’s the young man?”

  “Freddy Miller.”

  “Oh, Ted and Margaret’s boy. I hear he’s quite smart.”

  “I guess.”

  “Are you reluctant to go to the dance because you don’t have a date?”

  The uniform felt very tight. She felt as if it were strangling her.

  “You shouldn’t let that stop you,” Mom said. “You went without a date to the Get Acquainted Dance last month.”

  “It was awful.”

  “This one might be wonderful. Maybe you’ll meet a nice young man.”

  “I doubt it,” she muttered.

  “You’ll never know unless you give it a try.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “You really—”

  “Frances,” Dad interrupted, “if she doesn’t want to go…”

  “These can be the most marvelous years of her life, Hal, but not if she insists on sitting home like a lump.”

  “These can also be the toughest years,” Dad said. “I know. I stayed home from many a dance when I was her age, and I don’t regret it. I’m sure it saved me from all kinds of hassles and embarrassments. If she wants to come home after the game, it’s her decision. She’s only fifteen! It’s not going to cast a shadow over her whole life, missing one dance. Especially a dance she doesn’t want to go to.”

  Mom didn’t like the lecture. Janice could feel her stiffen. That’ll teach her, she thought. Then she regretted it, and felt bad for causing the argument.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Mom put an arm across her shoulders. “It’s okay, honey. Your father’s right. This time.”

  “I would go if I had a date. I really would. It’s just so awful, going alone.”

  “I guess so. Nothing is much fun alone.”

  They dropped Janice off at the school’s front entrance, then drove away to find parking for the game.

  She walked down a corridor toward the band room. It was spooky seeing the place so deserted. Half the lights were out. The only sounds were a few far-off, muffled notes from kids tuning up in the band room.

  She walked quickly.

  When she heard footsteps behind her, she looked back. She saw the white cast on the boy’s arm.

  “Wait up,” Glen called.

  Janice waited, her heart suddenly slamming.

  Glen came up close. “How you been, sweets?”

  “Okay, till now.”

  “Missed me?”

  “Like I miss my dentist.”

  “Dentist, huh? I still owe you one for that. And I owe you one for the busted arm. If you’re real nice to me tonight, maybe I’ll forgive you.”

  “I’m not going to the dance with you.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “I’m going home after the game. My parents are here, and I’m leaving with them.”

  “Not if you know what’s good for you.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Turning away, she walked toward the band room.

  “See you later,” Glen called.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  In the band room, Janice took a white plume out of a cardboard box. She watched Marilyn to see how to attach it. A looped wire at the plume’s base fit into a metal slot on top of the cap. She slid hers in. It wiggled a bit, but she left it.

  She put together her clarinet. Leaving the case and her handbag behind, she followed the others out to the field.

  At the back entrance to the football stadium, the band assembled. The whistle blew. The drums began a quick beat that Janice could feel all the way inside her chest. She began to march.

  Through the gate. Across the dirt track. Onto the football field. Knees high, toes pointed down. Under the goal post. Out to the center of the field where the high stadium lights made her squint.

  A tinny voice boomed from the loud speakers. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, join the Webster High School Charger Band in a salute to our country.”

  She clipped the music flip-folder into place just in time for “The Star Spangled Banner.” When they were done, the drums kicked up and she marched with the band straight across the field to the bleachers. As Janice climbed the stairs, she scanned the crowd. She saw Susan and Freddy. Not her parents. Not Glen. Not Mike.

  During the game’s first half, she spent a lot of time scanning the stands for Mike. In a way, she didn’t want to spot him, especially if he was with Brita. She knew from Susan that Mike had planned to attend. Susan hadn’t mentioned Brita, but that meant nothing. She had probably skipped that part to spare Janice’s feeling.

  At the start of the second quarter, Glen walked by. He had a big slice of pizza. He waved it at Janice.

  “You aren’t going with that yuck, are you?” Marilyn asked.

  “If I was marooned on an island with him, I’d start swimming.”

  Marilyn laughed.

  Mr. Chambers stood. “Get up the fight song!” he yelled.

  A moment later, they were playing. On the field, the huddle broke up. The players rushed toward the scrimmage line, and Mr. Chambers stopped the music with a quick slash of his baton.

  When the scoreboard showed ten minutes remaining before halftime, Mr. Chambers stood again.

  “Here goes,” Marilyn said.

  They followed him down from the stands, and along the track to the far end of the field. During the final minutes before halftime, they stood in formation just behind the goal post. Janice watched the game; the Webster Chargers were slowly battering their way through the Ranford defense. With each play, they got closer.

  The scoreboard showed three seconds left. Janice checked her music, once again, to be sure she had the fight song up.

  “Heads up!” someone yel
led.

  Down the center of the field, heads turned away, dashed two players. The one in the lead was from Webster. The other, Janice realized, must be guarding him. She wished they would watch where they were running. They couldn’t, though. The ball was in the air. The first boy reached up for it. Janice heard him gasping for breath. A gun sounded.

  As if startled awake by the gunfire, the front rows of the band broke apart. Marilyn lurched against Janice. They both jumped aside.

  Snarling, the Charger leaped for the ball and missed. The other boy slammed into him and tore him down. They tumbled among the band members, legs flying.

  “Holy smoke!” Janice muttered.

  As the boys got up, Mr. Chambers began prancing alongside the band. “Quick! Back in formation! Anybody hurt? Let’s go!”

  Janice rushed back into place.

  The whistle blared. The drums started their thunderous beat.

  Too quick. This is all too quick, she thought, and started to march.

  The drums began the lead-in to the “Charger Fight Song.”

  Her music folder was gone! It must have dropped from her clip when Marilyn bumped into her.

  She tried to play from memory. After hitting a few wrong notes, however, she gave up. For most of the halftime show, she marched to her positions, kept the mouthpiece in her mouth, and moved her fingers over the keys and stops. But she didn’t blow. A few of the band members glanced at her oddly. Thank heavens nobody in the stands could tell that she was faking it!

  At last, they formed what the announcer called “the Charger band’s famous Block W,” and began the loyalty song. Janice knew this one by heart. She played along with the band. Hearing the beautiful, sad music all around her, and the quiet murmur of voices singing along in the grandstand, she felt very fine. It didn’t matter now, flubbing the other songs. This was the one that counted. In her mind, she heard the words of the final verse as she played it:

  In bright or stormy weather

  As all the years go by

  We’ll raise our song together

  For love of Webster High.