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removed his helmet. He was barely sweating, as if he'd been out for nothing
more than a brisk walk. I was sweating like a pig and resembled one that had
rolled in mud.
>Not that it matters how I look, I told myself. I watched Kelly approach
Adam, her notebook open and her pen poised to write, as if she were covering a
real story.
äI got a lot of pats on my back and thumps on my helmet, and surprisingly,
many of them were from guys on the team.
a Meanwhile Kelly was gazing up at Adam with large blue eyes, as if every word
he uttered was fascinating. She kept tossing her head and laughing at what he
said. Both of them were enjoying the conversation.
¬"Jane," Pablo said, "how come you never interview us the way she's
interviewing Adam?"
¬ "Yeah," said Billy. "I could get into that kind of questioning."
À"I could get into that kind of answering," I countered, "instead of grouchy,
three-word grunts."
Billy shook his head and laughed. "He's not answering--he's flirting. I've
seen that look a million times before. It's how Adam handles girls."
4So what does that make me?à I wondered, and began to remove my equipment.
"I'll clean this stuff up for you, Josh, and return it tomorrow."
º"Nah, I'll take care of it," he said, taking the pads from me. "You go jump
in a hot shower."
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ØI glanced down at my throbbing arm, glad I had worn a long-sleeve T-shirt. "I
need one. Thanks for reffing."
z"You know, Jane," he said, "you make our team captain crazy."
x"There's not much I can do about that, is there?" I replied.
Adam glanced up then, as if he sensed we were talking about him. There was a
look of uncertainty on his face. Josh laughed quietly.
0"What's funny?" I asked.
""He is. You are."
p I shrugged and waved at Adam with my left hand. "If you still think we
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/Faazy/Desktop/EBOOKS/New%20Text%20Document.txt[5/2/2010 8:45:32 PM]
writers have it easy, let me know if you ever want to write a column," I
called, then headed for the locker room.
ÐI would never say writing was a piece of cake, but it sure left you feeling,
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and smelling, a lot better.
63
Seven
"We're not going through your playground years again, are we?" Grandpa asked
later that afternoon when I hobbled through the door with Marnie.
²"Got any red bandages with stars on them?" I asked, then dropped down on a
kitchen stool.
. "Good thing the wedding isn't this week," Marnie told Grandpa. "She'd be one
colorful maid of honor. We should probably get some ice on her right arm."
¨"Better yet, stuff me in the freezer," I suggested. I was starting to hurt
all over.
ÈGrandpa got out several plastic bags and filled them with ice. "What was the
final score?" he asked.
h"Marnie and company won fourteen to ten," I replied.
"And Jane made her point, one to eleven," Marnie added, grinning.
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¬"We hope I did. Postgame tomorrow, when I start asking the guys questions,
we'll see."
v But as it turned out, Tuesday's away game wasn't a good test because Tilson
won a solid victory. In fact, I'd never seen our offense and defense play so
well. Naturally, the guys were happy to talk about the game. The most negative
thing I could ask was why they hadn't played like this before. Adam's
performance was outstanding. As the guys walked to the team bus, there was
some quiet joking that I might have to prep him for the next game.
Ä By Tuesday afternoon most of my sore muscles had disappeared, but I wore
jeans and a long-sleeve cotton shirt that day and the next. I was mapped with
bruises, and my right arm was a thing of wonder, black and blue and violet.
Ü"I bet Daniel would find those colors inspiring," Marnie remarked when she
took a peek at my arm on Wednesday.
N That afternoon I was working late in the newspaper office with Tom and
Kelly. At our staff meeting earlier we'd decided that if Kelly did a piece on
Adam, she'd have to be fair and do features on the best athletes of every
school sport. That was more work than she'd counted on, not to mention the
fact that half of the candidates were girls and some of the guys were short
and had acne. Kelly decided to withdraw the idea.
ÄNow she sat two monitors down from me, struggling with another feature on the
school cafeteria. As
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Ô usual on deadline day, Tom was checking over the work that was already
completed and on disk. That evening we'd send it over the Internet to a small
commercial press. Our two thousand copies would be dropped off by lunch the
next day.
ê My column was done, but I was struggling with Vinny's, trying to edit it so
that it was still his work but actually said something interesting. I had my
feet propped next to my computer, a pile of printouts on my lap, and was
leaning back in my favorite chair, staring into space--a position that
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