October 9th, 2008
JerryAnn, again
When I pull up to the middle school, Cate’s on the picnic bench, waiting. Throughout the day she’s quit as team statistician four times via text, but she’s here now. I smile and wave. She squints.
We trudge into the gym a minute after practice should have started. The gym is silent, the ball cart isn’t on the court, Milo isn’t showing off, and girls sit on the first rows of bleachers whispering, but the whispering stops when we get close.
I set my backpack on the first row of bleachers, sit down, and grab the clipboard for Cate, but she glares at me. I’ve lost Cate’s trust, if I ever had it.
I scan the gym. Where’s Toby? How could he do this to Cate, to me? Of all the days to not show up, why today? Is this because of the parking lot? My brutal shot at his height? This is a million times harder for Cate.
Bethany stands up on the second row and points to the opposite side of the court. “What the…”
All eyes turn. Two guys run out of the boy’s locker room wearing white fuzzy sweatbands around their heads and bright red turtleneck dickeys. The only part of their upper bodies covered is their necks and a square flap of fabric across their front and back meeting at the shoulders. It’s Toby and Milo, whooping and pumping their firsts.
Laughter erupts.
“Cleveland Middle School rocks!” Toby yells.
My mouth hangs open. He’s not like the guys I usually see shirtless. In place of six-pack abs is a solid hairy middle framed with meaty arms. He wouldn’t win a wet T-shirt contest, but he’s strutting around as if he could. He runs toward Milo.
Milo screams. “Grant Middle sucks.” Milo has six-pack abs, sinewy arms, and not an ounce of fat on his tall, thin frame. He passes the ball to Toby, who dribbles it while Milo yells, “We’re gonna kick their butts.”
Toby passes back to Milo. They run toward the team, Toby hitting his chest and yelling like Tarzan. Neither smile.
“Are we gonna win tomorrow’s game?” Toby yells at the girls.
The girls laugh, giggle, shout. I, on the other hand, gawk. I can’t explain my attraction, but it’s hard to look away.
Toby yells, “I can’t hear you. Are we gonna win tomorrow’s game?”
The girls are laughing too hard to answer, and then Cate’s laugh explodes beside me.
Toby, slapping a basketball, yells again, “I said, are we gonna win tomorrow’s game?” There’s a crack in Toby’s expression, a quirk of his lips, laughter in his eyes. “It isn’t fair that Milo and I didn’t get uniforms.”
Milo agrees by making a series of muscle poses.
“So I got us these. Whadda ya think?”
“You look hot!” Bethany yells from the stands.
Milo break dances while Toby sways his hips, moving his thumbs in circles in front of him. I don’t realize how much I’m laughing until the laughter subsides and Cate meets my eyes, a question in hers. “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”
It takes me a minute to catch my breath. “I laugh all the time.” Sigh. “You make me laugh.”
Cate shakes her head, smiling. “Not like that, I don’t.”
Toby and Milo run for the locker room and then, within seconds, reenter the gym wearing regular shirts. Practice begins as usual…but better. The girls more frequently take shots and play with more confidence.
Practice goes late, but only because the girls buzz around Milo and Toby. Eventually, the gym quiets, and it’s just me, Cate, and Toby. I can tell he’s ready to make a beeline to Rose’s classroom.
I step in front of him, cutting him off. “Toby.” After I say his name, I realize I have no idea how to express my gratitude for what he did.
Cate runs up to him, wraps her arms around Toby’s waist, and gives him a full-on hug. If I had feelings, I would cry happy tears, sad tears, and jealous tears all at the same time, but instead, the moment Toby looks up toward me, I mouth the words, “Thank you.” Before Toby can return the hug, Cate pulls away.