A Little Friendly Advice. Siobhan VivianЧитать онлайн книгу.
Predictably, there are not many people in the gym. Though every inch of wall space is covered by navy-and-yellow felt banners, proclaiming countless championships in every sport imaginable, most are titles won long before I was born. Akron’s athletic program has been on the end of a losing season for many many years. The crowd is mostly other basketball players from the freshman and JV girl squads, a few family members, and a bunch of little kids who storm the court at every unoccupied second to shoot free throws or run races to the half-court line and back. We have our pick of uncomfortable bleachers. I follow Beth up to the very top row.
“I’m glad you came,” she says, dropping her bag and slumping onto the bench. “After that last fight, no one in Katherine’s family would come to cheer for her. It’s amazing to me how selfish parents can be.” Beth shakes her head dismissively. “She reminds me a lot of you.”
“Really?” I say, sliding next to her and trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
The Akron varsity girls team commandeers the center of the gym for some stretches. Most of the girls are half-assing it, talking and laughing while Katherine calls out counts of ten as sternly as an army drill sergeant. I recognize a few of them from the hallways. Specifically, two tall blondes and a short brunette. They are all wearing lipstick. The brunette catches me staring and points up at me and Beth. The two blondes lean in and all three whisper with curled upper lips, while keeping their eyes locked on us. They are Katherine’s old friends.
I pull my sweatshirt over my head to break their gaze.
“Yikes, Ruby! What’d you do?” Beth pokes my arm.
I wince and twist it so I can see the inside of my bicep. There’s a deep purple blob, speckled by flecks of red.
My throat fills up with a lump that I force down with a big swallow. “Ugh, this is so stupid. Okay. Well. Do you remember that map I used to have in my bedroom? I don’t know why, but I wanted to take a look at Oregon.”
Beth blinks a couple of times.
“You know, in my old house. The U.S. map that hid my super ugly wallpaper?”
I search her face for a glimmer of recognition. If anyone should remember something from my life in painstaking detail, it’s Beth. But then I realize she’s not confused. She knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Ruby,” she says, wrapping my hand inside hers, “I don’t think it’s such a great idea for you to be thinking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like, imagining where Jim might be living or something. Because — and I’m only saying this because I’m your best friend — he’s probably not coming back after how things went down last night. And the more you learn about him, the harder he’s going to be to forget again.” She looks away from me, up at the buzzing lights in metal cages over our head. “You’ve come so far. Don’t let this mess you up.”
“I was just curious,” I whisper. Though I know she’s right. I hardly knew anything about Jim when I was a kid, and it took years for me to get over him leaving. Imagine how tough it would be if he became a real person, instead of a vague idea of what he might really be like.
“I’m just giving you a little friendly advice.” She nudges me with her bony shoulder. “That’s my job.”
The shrill whir of a whistle diverts my attention to the court. Katherine is underneath the basket, wrestling with a girl from the opposing team over a loose ball. Neither wants to let go, so two additional referees add their whistles to the mix. Katherine’s throwing crazy elbows, thrashing for control. Finally, the other girl releases her grip, and Katherine screams a hoarse victory cry into her face. The referee blows a final long blast, flashes his hands in the shape of a T, and the angry Akron coach flags Katherine over to the bench.
But Katherine’s not quite finished, arguing down the ref and acting like his call was insanely unjustified. The brunette tries to lead her away by the arm, but Katherine flails free and stalks over on her own accord. She crashes onto the bench, grabs a Gatorade bottle, and squeezes a thick green stream down the back of her throat. She spots me in the stands, but doesn’t smile.
“Did you see that?” I turn to face Beth, but she’s looking at me all googly-eyed.
“Come on,” she says and kicks the empty bleacher in front of her. When I don’t spring to action she whines, “Ruby! Come on! You know this will make you feel better.”
Sometimes, when I’d get really upset about Jim stuff, Beth would sit me on the floor and French braid my hair over and over again until I calmed down. She hasn’t had to do it in years, and I’m not even that stressed or anything right now, but I guess she wants me to know she’s still there for me, like always. So I slide in front of her and pull out my hair thing. Piles fall down to my shoulders. It still feels damp at my roots from my morning shower.
“Whoa!” she squeals. “Ruby, your hair looks amazing.”
“Really?”
She digs frantically in her bag. “Crap. I don’t have a mirror. Where’s your camera?” Without asking, she digs into my bag and pulls it out. I make a goofy face into the lens, puffing out my cheeks like a chipmunk. Beth snaps the picture and looks pleased. She turns it around. Even though my face looks stupid, my normally flat hair is chunky and wavy, like I’ve spent the day at the beach. It’s almost pretty, which is so not a word I ever use to describe myself.
“Oh, my God! Maybe you and Teddy can finally consummate your marriage tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
She smiles. “You know. A little thing called fourth-grade Halloween, when Teddy was James Bond and you were Princess Diana, marching together in the school parade. Everyone thought you were husband and wife.”
We both giggle. It feels really good. “Holy crap. I forgot about that.”
“Not at all surprising, considering you have a terribly memory.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyhow, I totally predict that you will make out with Teddy tonight.” She crosses her arms and nods her head once, like a genie. “It’ll be great. You’ll kiss all your troubles away.”
“Eww!” I say, and stick my tongue out. There’s something a little daytime-talk-show about trying not to obsess about your deadbeat dad by randomly hooking up with some guy. Plus, it’s not like I have a million other guys I’ve kissed in my lifetime. There hasn’t even been one. And I don’t know if I want my first to be tainted with his memory.
“What do you mean eww?” Beth pokes a finger at my chest. “Ruby, I’m starting to think that you might have a phobia about hooking up. Like a fear of getting close to a guy or something. Because of your parents.”
I actually contemplate her words for a few seconds. But then I notice how Beth’s face is super stony and serious. Too serious. “You’re so full of it.”
She rocks back with laughter. “Then prove me wrong!”
Kissing Teddy might be a good way to take my mind off things. And I don’t get many chances to prove Beth wrong about anything. So I flash a crooked grin and decide to seize this particular opportunity by the lips.
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