Bridgeport Academy » COMPLETE

31

The Bridgeport sports staff was so evil that they made everyone go to sports practice on Blacker Sunday (called that for obvious reasons). Everyone hit the field with stale-martini breath, eye shadow still smeared on their upper lids, and pink tongues, courtesy of two big swigs of Pepto to calm their gurgling stomachs.

Robyn sat on the hockey bench with her head between her legs. She had a hickey on her neck, and she was certain it wasn't from Chris. She'd tried to cover it with her concealer stick, but the big purple welt was still there. Really, she felt too shitty to care. She wanted to curl back up under her thick cashmere blanket and suck her thumb. She eyed Kae and Alex sitting on the grass, stretching, looking as if they hadn't had a sip of alcohol last night. Since when were they such good friends?

Coach Johnson blew her whistle and called the girls up to scrimmage. Of all things to do at a post-Black Saturday party practice, they were actually going to play? Why couldn't everyone do a couple of laps and go back to bed?

"Robyn Fenty, Alex Crane, you'll play centers," Coach Johnson instructed. 

A collective gasp rose up from the bench. Everyone's heads swiveled back and forth, from Robyn to Alex. Robyn heaved herself up from the bench, feeling bloated and disgusting. She watched Alex storm off to the middle of the field. Frustration suddenly welled up inside of her again. How dare Alex not tell her about Mr. Jordan!

As soon as Coach Johnson dropped the small silver ball, Alex whacked it, following through so roughly she hit Robyn's left shin guard. 

Robyn backed up in pain and anger. She tore after Alex, who was now a few steps ahead of her, dribbling the ball. The sod was mushy under her feet, and her black and white Nike cleats dug fiercely into the ground. Alex's skirt rose so that you could see the bottom of her maroon panties and skinny butt. Robyn caught up to her and stuck her stick in between Alex and the ball. Then Alex's hands twisted and she whacked the ball with the rounded side of her hockey stick, sending it careening away from Robyn, toward one of the midfielders on Alex's team.

"Foul!" Robyn screamed, stopping in her tracks. "Coach Johnson! That was a foul!"

"I didn't see it," Coach responded. "Keep playing." She gestured to the other girls, who had taken the ball and swept it down toward one of the goals.

"Oh my God!" Robyn threw her stick to the ground in disgust. "She hit the ball with the wrong side of the stick!"

"Whatever," Coach Johnson said. "It's only practice, and I didn't see it."

Robyn turned to Alex, green eyes narrowed. "They don't teach field hockey in New Jersey, do they?"

"Go to hell," Alex finally muttered.

"Ooh, the big comeback from class prefect, Alexandra Crane. I thought you had great debate skills! I thought you could talk your way out of anything!"

"Girls," Coach Johnson warned. "Play. Alex, your team just scored a goal."

Alex stepped around Coach to face Robyn. "What is it, Robyn? What's the huge thing you have against me? If anything, I'm the one who should be angry at you, not the other way around!"

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you're a manipulative bitch, that's why!" Alex screamed.

The other players gasped. Coach Johnson tried to step between them, but Robyn shot her a look of warning that said, Stay away. Coach Johnson turned and began walking briskly toward the field house.

Robyn turned to Alex. "You take that back. I'm not manipulative."

Alex barked out a laugh. "No? So what's this whole Kae-and-Chris thing about? How is that not manipulation?" She shot a look over at Kae, who was standing perfectly still, stick poised, watching them from her midfield position.

Robyn glanced at Kae too. Great. Just great. A comment like that wouldn't help sway Kae to stick up for her at DC. She glowered at Alex. "You don't know anything."

"I don't have to know anything," Alex shot back. "I know you and how you operate. From what you did to Jas."

"Jas?!?" Robyn's mouth dropped open.

"That's right." Alex's voice was hushed. She stepped closer to her former friend, so close that their noses were almost touching. "Why don't you just come clean? You set Jasmine up to take the rap. You made it so you wouldn't get in any trouble."

Oh, this was something. "I set it up? Who's to say you didn't set it up?" Robyn yelled. Tears sprang to her eyes. "I didn't even talk to Jasmine before she left! I was called into DC, I left, and she was already gone!"

"Oh, yeah. That's a good one-"

"Why would I set Jasmine up? We were friends!"

Alex stepped back and glared at Robyn confusedly. They both stared at each other for a few long seconds before Alex's shoulders relaxed a bit. "You're serious, aren't you?" 

Robyn nodded fiercely. 

"And you think that I got Jas in trouble?"

"Well I didn't, so you must have," Robyn explained, but Alex could hear her resolve weakening.

"I didn't have a chance to talk to Jas, either. She was gone before I could."

Robyn looked down. "Really?"

"Yes."

The other players held their breath.

"I don't get it," Alex surmised.

"Jasmine just...took the blame for us, on her own?"

"I guess. But why would she do that?"

"No clue."

Robyn began to laugh. "That's really fucked up."

Alex slowly began to giggle too. "God, I totally thought you did it."

"And I thought you did it!"

"I thought you were going to transfer rooms on me, just to avoid having to talk about Jas!"

Behind them, Coach Johnson ran up with Mr. Steinberg, the boy's soccer coach, in tow. When she saw Robyn and Alex laughing and then hugging, she stopped short in confusion. "I swear they were ready to kill each other."

"Girls," Mr. Steinberg sighed hopelessly, shaking his head.