"Probably, you should just remain at school. April," she told me. "The game is at four, right. Brenda?"
"Yes, Mama. She can hang out with me," she said.
Actually, that idea excited me. I wanted to hang out with the junior and senior girls. Just listening to them talk about themselves and their social lives was entertaining. I had done it a few times before and felt like a fly on the wall, hearing about this one's romance and that one's breakup. They had no inhibitions when it came to talking about their sexual behavior, either. Girls who had shared experiences with the same boy made shocking comparisons, rating this one and that one for his love powers, as they called it. I noticed how Brenda ignored them and made no comments at all, even when some of the girls told her some boy had expressed interest in her.
"I can fix you up any time you'd like." Shelby Ohm told her. Brenda glanced at her and shook her head.
Brenda wasn't that close with any of the girls in her class. She rarely attended any of their parties. Her social life was built completely around her sporting events. Occasionally, on weekends, she joined two other girls who were her teammates and went on hikes or long bike rides.
She went out on a date once in a while, but she hadn't met anyone she said she liked or with whom she would go on a second date, and as far as I knew, she had yet to go out on a single date this school year. She did attend pep rally dances, and Mama was hoping she would attend the junior prom. She talked about it with Brenda often, recalling her own highschool social life. She loved to show us her pictures, especially the ones taken during her prom. Although Brenda listened politely, she didn't seem to be at all excited about it. Her only interest in boys these days, in fact, was in beating them at various sporting events. On more than one occasion, I heard boys teasing each other by saving. "Brenda Taylor could whip your ass," in whatever sport they meant.
I heard them say other things about her, too, nasty things, and some even teased me with comments like "What's your sister do for sexual excitement, sit on fire hydrants?"
I fled from their laughter and smiles, my heart pounding. How I wished Brenda had a romance and could wipe those smirks off their faces. I wished it for her more than I wished it for myself. In my heart of hearts. I thought I wouldn't ever have a boyfriend until I lost weight. I made the mistake of telling that to Jamie Stanley once. She thought a moment, and then, as if she were afraid I would have a boyfriend before she did, she said. "You probably will never lose weight. You're afraid of having a boyfriend."
Was I?
Could such a thing be true? I wished I had someone I could ask. I was afraid to ask Mama, afraid I would make her think less of me, and I had never had any such conversation with Brenda.
Despite all the distraction and worry- that hovered about me all day. I knew I did well on the social studies quiz. I was as attentive as could be in Mr. Leshman's class as well and tried to look repentant and sorry. He had my written apology on his desk, but he said nothing more about it. The only interest any of my classmates had in my unfortunate episode was to hear how mean Dean Mannville had been to me. I could see they were disappointed in my description, and soon no one wanted to know anything more.
Brenda let me sit with her and her two teammates with whom she usually sat at lunch. Nicole Lawford and Natalie Brandon, both girls almost as tall as she was. The importance of the upcoming tame was all they talked about. They had to win to stay in contention for the league title. Their entire
conversation was about the best and the weakest server on their team and how they would try to work off one another for offense. Although it was boring to me and nowhere near as interesting as the usual locker-room gossip. I tried to look interested.
At the end of the day. I joined Brenda again in the gym and followed her to the locker room. None of the other -iris took much notice of me. I sat on a bench and watched Brenda change. Although she hadn't said anything more about Daddy, I was sure she was thinking the same thing I was: Would he appear at the game with Mama and Uncle Palaver?
I watched Brenda and her teammates limber up for the Death Match, as they called it, and then, with them. I observed the arrival of the opposing team. The girls on that team seemed bigger and older. I knew from listening to Brenda and her teammates talk that they, like our team, were undefeated. I was caught up in the excitement and for a while didn't think about Daddy at all.
The crowd of supporters for both sides began to arrive at about three-thirty, and the gym started to fill up quickly. I was nervous about finding good seats for Mama. Uncle Palaver, me, and maybe Daddy. It was hard to save that many spots in the bleachers. Finally. Mama arrived with Uncle Palaver at her side but without Daddy. My heart did a flip-flop, happy to see Uncle Palaver but so disappointed in Daddy's failure to appear.
"Look at her!" Uncle Palaver exclaimed as soon as he saw me. "You grew a foot since I saw you last."
"Did not," I said. "At least not upward.'
He laughed and hugged me. I looked carefully at Mama to scrutinize her face. She was smiling, but there was an emptiness in her eyes that chilled my spine.
"Where's Daddy?" I asked her.
"We'll see him later," she replied, and glanced quickly at Uncle Palaver, who slapped his hands together as we sat, him in between us. He rubbed his palms, and when he lifted them apart, there was a girl's wristwatch in his left palm. It had a circular face with little hearts that popped in and out.
Mama laughed.
"I'll be doggone," Uncle Palaver said. "What's this?" He plucked the watch out of his palm and held it up. "Must be yours," he said, turning to me. "Try it on." It fit tightly on my wrist, but I pretended it didn't matter.
"Thank you. Uncle Palaver," I said.
He sat back and pulled in his jaw. "I didn't give it to you. I have no idea how it got there," he said.
We heard a whistle blow. The teams were introduced. Brenda looked our way and saw Daddy wasn't there. I noticed the way her shoulders hoisted when she turned away. Anger had replaced pain and disappointment. What she was able to do, however, was place all that fury into her game. When she spiked the ball over the net, it looked as if it would drill a hole in the floor. The crowd watched her in wonder, and the applause began to build and build, our side's cheering voices drowning out the
opponents' supporters. In awe and amusement, Uncle Palaver watched Brenda play.
"Don't get on that girl's bad side." he said when she stopped the opponents' lead player from delivering a return. The ball bounced off the poor girl's head and she fell on her rear end. The laughter embarrassed her and affected the rest of her game. Brenda was intimidating.
We had a hard-fought but sweet victory, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was all because of Brenda. I could see the pain in Mama's eyes because Daddy hadn't been there to see her play. Uncle Palaver tried his best to make up for it, lavishing praise on Brenda. He tried to cheer her up by plucking a watch for her, too, this time out of her own closed fist.