Toaster Notes From My Best Friend the Dating-Optimist (A Christian Romance)

Chapter Five

The next day at school I have to carry my camera around with me. I have to take pictures of the boys' basketball game after school today. I could just leave my camera in my locker, but I'm too afraid someone will take it. The best way to ensure it's safety is to carry it around with me.

I drag my backpack, my camera, my lunch - a peanut butter sandwich -, and my math textbook into room 137, where we meet every Tuesday for yearbook. The yearbook team consists of ten kids - including myself - and two teachers. Four of the kids are in grade twelve. There are three of us in grade eleven. Two in grade ten. One grade nine.

I sit at a desk next to Arnold, a boy in grade ten. He - like me - did yearbook last year, unlike the other grade ten, one of the grade elevens, and the grade nine.

Mr. Fairfax rises from his desk and sits on the top of it, facing us.

"So, what have we gotten done since last week?" His face is calm, but he's probably stressed. The yearbook has to be sent to the publisher in two weeks if it's going to be done in enough time for everyone to get theirs.

Two weeks, and we're still not done. All but one of the 'Clubs' pages are done, which is good. However, the tennis page isn't done. The soccer page isn't done. The dance team page isn't done.

The basketball page isn't done. This is unfortunate, seeing as men's basketball is what our school is best at.

A few of my companions raise their hands with updates. The tennis page has been finished. The soccer page only needs one more picture, which can be snagged at the game tomorrow. The dance team page will be finished by Thursday.

I wait for news on the basketball page. It doesn't come. I'll need to get a lot of pictures at tonight's game.

"Okay, so all that's left is the chess club page and the men's basketball page. Chess club doesn't need to be in the yearbook, so if we can't get pictures that's fine. Basketball, however, is a different story." I tense at Mr. Fairfax's words.

There's a lot of pressure there.

"Rory," He begins. I gaze up at him through my lashes.

"Yessir,"

"The basketball page isn't done yet."

"I know."

"The game tonight is canceled"

"Okay." That's unfortunate. I sit up straighter in my seat.

"I need you to go on that trip with the team next week."

"To . . . where, sorry?"

"Scotland. Edinburgh, actually."

"Uh . . . but Mr. Fairfax . . . exams are only a few weeks away, I really need the time to-"

"I'm sorry Rory. I need you to go. We need those pictures. The team's doing great this year, and we won't have another chance to get pictures after that tournament. All of your expenses will be covered, of course, so you don't need to worry about that."

I gulp. Exams are two and a half weeks away. I need to start studying next week.

"And no," he says bitterly. "Someone else can't go in your place.You signed up to do this page. You have to get it done."

Ouch. That was a bit harsh. I wasn't even going to ask if someone could go in my place.

With that, the bell rings for fifth period. Thank goodness I already had history. I stand up, a little bit indignant.

After science, I head to photography. On my way, I notice the basketball team in the gym, warming up. So apparently the game isn't canceled after all. It's supposed to start in half an hour.

I go to photography for a few minutes before I leave for the gym.

The team is still practicing when I get there. I survey what's going on.

Numbers twelve, fifteen, thirty, five, and seven are running some drills. The rest of the team is on the bench.

I snap a few photos of the guys running drills, mentally comparing them to the drills our team does. Somewhat similar, but not the same.

I watch as number five jumps for a shot. He lands - and crumples. He bounces right back up as Coach walks over to him.

"You alright?" She asks. 'Five' - as I have begun to call him -  nods, fighting to stand straight.

"Fine, ma'am." He swings his leg back and forth a few times before giving a resolute nod - apparently to himself - and continuing to practice.

    I take a few more pictures as the game starts. Five has an aggressive look on his face the whole time. I watch numbers twelve and thirty glance at each other, and then at him.

As if he can tell they're watching him, Five spins around.

His face contorts in pain.

He makes his face blank immediately. He narrows his eyes at his teammates, jerking his head to the side.

That's when I notice the white C on the left side of his jersey. He's the captain.

Twelve and Thirty do as he says and run down the court after the ball. Five stands still for a second.

He meets my gaze.

A millisecond later, he turns and re-inserts himself into the fray.