The Perfect Couple

29

Monday I got to history early so I'd be sure to catch Alan before he went into the room. I stood in the hall just outside the door, leaning against the wall and pretending to do some last-minute cramming while keeping one eye out for Alan. When I saw him coming, I lazily straightened up.

"Oh, hi," I said, as if I'd just seen him. Indicating my book, I laughed. "I didn't get a bit of studying done over the weekend. You know how it is."

"I sure do." He got a dreamy look in his eyes and I knew it wasn't for me so I quickly went on.

"I hope you haven't forgotten your promise to dedicate your first touchdown pass to me." I tipped my head way back, as if he was seven feet tall and gave him my brightest smile.

For a minute he looked as if he had forgotten his promise, but then he said, "Oh, no. The first one's yours."

"I wonder how many you'll get."

"It's hard to say, but I expect to run up a pretty big score on the Eagles. They do have a good team this year, but not good enough to beat us."

He expected to run up a big score. So, okay, I told myself. Marcus is a team player and what's it gotten him? "It's amazing how you manoeuvre around in the pocket," I told Alan.

He was really responding to me now, his eyes glowing as they looked into mine.

"That's what what makes a great quarterback."

"I play soccer," I said eagerly. "It's a great game, too."

"I suppose." He began to back towards the door.

I couldn't let him go, now that we were really talking, just the two of us.

"Soccer's really a form of football," I rushed on, babbling the first thoughts that came to mind just to keep talking. "It originated in England a long time ago. The ball was handled in those days, but some people thought it would be better to just kick, I head it, so"

Even though I was talking as fast as I could and tossing my head and making a lot of gestures, Just asked Kim had instructed, Alan had lost interest. First his eyes went blank, then they glazed over. I could throw in the second act of Hamlet and he'd still back away. I've lost him when I stop talking about his game and started to talk about my own.

"I can hardly wait for the big football game. Only a few more days now," I said frantically. But it was too late. The bell had rung.

That afternoon my team beat Mary's once again. "Nice game," she said and gave me the traditional handshake. She always observed the rules of sports and ship and I had to admire her for that.

I showered and dressed as quickly as I could and her it towards the bus stop. I was halfway there when I realised I've left my books in the locker room. I ran back as fast as I could and grab them up from the bench. Everyone was gone, or at least I thought they were. Then I heard a sound, like somebody crying. I looked around and there was Mary, leaning against her locker, trying hard to muffle her sobs.

"Mary?" I said.

"Go away!" She sniffled.

I paid no attention. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No." She drew herself up as proudly as ever, even though her eyes were swollen and her nose red. "How can you help me when the best allergies in the country can't?"

I'd seen that people with allergy and I'd seen people crying and I thought I knew the difference. "There's nothing wrong with crying," I said. "Other girls cry. Boys, too."

All of a sudden Mary gave a big sob. "I just can't help it!" She wailed, as if she had to apologise. "I get so lonely sometimes."

She sat down on a bench and I sat beside her. "You sure haven't acted lonely," I reminded her. "I tried to be friendly at first, but"

She shook her head. "You don't understand. I had to act mean because I was beginning to like you."

If that was an explanation, it was the craziest one I'd ever heard. Mary took a deep breath to steady herself. "If you and I become friends, I'll only end up getting hurt, because I'll only move away again." In a rush of words she told me how difficult it was. "We're never invited to hold class office, or join a club. This is the first time I've ever been on a team."

She stood up suddenly. "Please forget we ever had this conversation. I don't know what got into me. I like things just the way they are."

I opened my mouth to say something more, but it was playing she didn't want to talk to anyone. She was staring over my head.

I grabbed my books and ran, but I'd missed the bus. I was plugging home when Becky yelled at me to wait for her. When she caught up with me she told me James, her editor, had kept her late.

"He has me doing just about everything but sweeping the floor," she grumbled. "But will he give me a chance to write a serious article? No!"

"That's too bad," I said, so full of Mary's problem I barely heard what what Becky had said.

"A lot you care," she snapped. "You weren't even listening!"

The trouble with knowing people all your life is that you can't fool them. I told Becky I was sorry and as an excuse for not being more concerned I spilled out the whole conversation I just had with Mary.

"Those poor kids really have it rough. They can never make friends. They never have a school that's theirs. They never get to join a club, or"

Becky had suddenly grabbed my arm. Her eyes were wildly excited behind her big, unfashionable glasses. "That's my feature article!" She cried.

A shook off her arm. "Don't you dare write an article about Mary!" I told her. "She'd never trust anyone again for the rest of her life."

"I won't mention her name or yours, if you don't want me to, but I have to write this story, Kelly. Think of the good it could do. I'll make everyone see how long these kids are and how unfair we've been to them. I even have a solution to their problem. We could organise a welcoming committee to meet them Mr when they report to the registration office. . . ."

She went on and on and I finally began to see that she did have a good idea. I just want her again not to print my name or Mary's. I hoped Mary I would think the article had nothing to do do with what she'd told me.