Red - Jack Ketchum [18]
“Isosceles. And equilateral. Right?”
“Right, Jack.”
As she walked back to the blackboard past his desk she was tempted to pat him on the head like the good little doggie he was. She resisted that temptation.
~ * ~
When the class broke for recess Peggy still hadn’t come back from the girls’ room. Genevieve went to her desk and opened her folder, flipped a few pages. Notes, doodles, the usual. She stopped at a drawing. It was not a bad rendering. Done in black felt-tip pen. A small house, like a dollhouse — but empty — within a small, equally empty room. Something canted in the angles of each.
She closed it just as Peggy came in, head down, hands shoved into the pockets of her oversized hoodie.
“You okay, sweetie?”
“Yeah. I just need to get my stuff.”
She watched the girl gather up her folder and her books and backpack and thought no you’re not. You’re not okay at all.
You, Peggy Cleek, bear watching.
~ * ~
Brian was tired of shooting these damn hoops. Despite what his father might think he wasn’t tall enough or fast enough to be really good at the game no matter how long and lean he’d gotten or how many free throws he landed. Nor would he ever be. His competition on the playground was proof of that if he ever needed any. He drifted over to the tetherball pole. A game in progress.
Cyndi was hitting clockwise and Walter counter-clockwise. A bunch of kids were hanging around watching. Walter was easily a foot and a half taller than she was, but Cyndi was a tiger at competition and practically a grasshopper at jumping. Tiger and grasshopper. Kung fu tetherball? At first Walter looked to have the advantage, lazily and confidently using his height to fist-pop one over her head. But it wasn’t too long before Cyndi got under the ball and stayed there. And soon she was whipping his ass easily. Outmaneuvering him every time. The girls were giggling. The boys were split — about half of them cheering her on and the other half solemn.
Their macho at stake along with Walter’s.
Meanwhile Cyndi kept pounding the ball toward the sky while Walter stumbled around flustered missing most of what she was whacking at him and minutes later it was over. The ball clunked against the pole and wound down.
Cyndi had barely broken a sweat. Walter looked bushed. He slunk away to the water fountain.
This was the same kid who used to call him chubs in the second grade, the same kid who gave him a bloody nose in the third. Brian felt no pity.
“Who’s next?” she said.
“Me,” said Brian.
Why not? It didn’t look like any of the other guys were going to risk it.
“Your win, your serve,” he said and stepped to his side of the pole.
At first he thought he had her. He returned, she returned, he returned again. She hit a good one over his head but he stepped in and slapped it, fast, and damn near hit her in the face. He wouldn’t have exactly wanted to do that but he wouldn’t have minded either. But she ducked just in time. And Cyndi was nothing if not agile. She waited for the next go-round and then started slamming it, darting all over the place and pretty soon he was helpless.
Thunk.
“Damn, you’re good.”
She smiled. “Why thank you, Mr. Cleek.”
He smiled back at her. “My father’s Mr. Cleek. I’m Brian, remember?”
“Why thank you, Brian.”
He turned and threw her a little wave as he walked away. Cyndi liked him. Had for a while. He could practically feel her eyes on his back.
As for him, he was probably as pissed off as Walter was. Maybe more so. But he wasn’t about to show it. No way. Let her think he’s cool with it. Hey, you lose one every now and then. No problem.
He walked into his empty classroom and at his desk pulled out his backpack and from it, his pack of Trident Wild Blueberry Twist gum. Unwrapped a stick and chewed it awhile until the flavor began to fade. Then he walked over to Cyndi’s desk right beside his where she’d left her oversized Hello Kitty purse. He unzipped it and found her hairbrush and worked the gum deep into the bristles, pressing it flat with his thumb. Returned the brush to the purse and zipped