Mom exhaled loudly, “Val, this is serious. You can’t say things like that; insulting other girls can destroy their self-esteem and screw up their whole lives. Do you understand?”
Val looked at the carpet, “Well yeah—but it’s true!”
“True from your perspective,” Dad corrected. “I’m sure it’s not entirely true. And even—even—if it is, such things are not for you to point out. You have been blessed, Valentina, with good looks, but do not make the mistake of thinking looks are everything. In reality they’re very little. Far more important is what’s on the inside.”
What a cliché, “Yeah, I know. But, I mean, I didn’t hit anyone.”
“No,” Mom agreed, “And that’s good. But you made that other girl so mad that she hit you, and that’s not good. How would you feel if someone said the things you said to her to you?”
“I’d know they weren’t true,” Val argued.
Dad sighed, “It’s clear you need some time to think on this. So until you apologize to that girl, no more study groups and no soccer.”
Val groaned, “But tryouts start Wednesday! And I need to study to get good grades.”
“Study groups can be great,” Dad replied, “But you can get just as much done by yourself as you can with them. Especially when you spend most of the time joking around.”
“But we don’t!”
“Sure you do; it’s only natural. We’re alright with it, but the temporary moratorium is part of your punishment.” Dad looked Val in the eye, “Now, do you accept your punishment?” It was a game he’d played since Val’s childhood; making her agree to the punishment, as if that somehow made it less severe.
“I suppose,” Val started up the stairs to her room, “But how will you know when I’ve apologized?”
“When you tell us; we’ll trust you,” Mom smiled kindly, “We don’t believe you’re a bad person, Val. You just said some things today that you shouldn’t have. Once you do what you need to in order to fix that, then you’ll have our respect again.”
Chapter 11
Tuesday morning, Val woke up so late she missed her first class. Dad gave her an earful as he drove her to school, “You know algebra isn’t your best subject, Val. You can’t afford to miss even a single day.”
“I know, I know.” Val let him lecture; she stared out the window, answering only when necessary. Dad parked as close to the front doors as the drop-off lane would allow; “Have fun,” he smiled.
“Right,” Val rolled her eyes, “Thanks for the lift, dad.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Dad drove off.
Val checked her phone’s clock; it was almost passing period. She headed to the girl’s locker room and deposited her bag before changing into the freshly laundered gym clothes she’d brought home over the weekend. She walked down the stairs and exited through a pair of doors less than a hundred feet from the football field. Only a couple of Val’s classmates were there before her; they had opened the bag of footballs, and were throwing one around as Mr. Sharp watched. Valentina stood far off enough that it was obvious she didn’t want to participate.
Val heard Porter greet someone from behind her, “Hey there. How are you?”
Whoever it was didn’t respond; Val jumped at a poke to her ribs; “Hey oblivious, I was talking to you.” Porter flashed his familiar grin, “Or were you ignoring me?”
“I’d never ignore you,” Val returned the smile. “I just thought you were talking to someone else—“ she took a step away from Porter, so that she could look him in the eye without craning her neck, “Sorry.”
Porter laughed, “No need to be sorry. So, how are you?”
Val shrugged, “Alright, I guess. I missed my first class, and my dad gave me an earful for that, so I could definitely be better. How about you?”
“Getting ready for my favorite class of the day, so I’m doing great.”
“This is your favorite class of the day?”
Porter nodded, “Of course. I love football, and when most of the class has never played it before in their life, it makes it easy to show off.”
Mr. Sharp called to the class, bringing them in around him. “Ok, time for class. First things first, let’s do a quick lap around the field to warm up.” The class groaned; “Winner gets extra credit,” Mr. Sharp added, as if anyone needed extra credit in his class. Everyone knew he gave out A’s to all of his students, no matter how good or bad they were. Still, Porter caught Val’s gaze and mouthed, “Race you.”
Val took off while the rest of the class was still milling about, probably waiting for a final go-ahead from Mr. Sharp. It felt good to run; Val let her mind go blank as she jogged around the first corner. She was halfway down the long end of the field when Porter passed her; he stuck his tongue out, “I thought you’d be a little faster than this,” and then took off at a full sprint. Val kicked up her speed in an effort to catch back up with him, but Porter’s height gave him too much of an advantage. He finished several seconds before Val, who slowed to a jog and walked up to Mr. Sharp as Porter struck up a conversation with him.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” the coach was saying. “She could use the extra practice.”
“What’s that?” Val asked, panting slightly.
Mr. Sharp pointed a football at her, “Porter suggested I let you two take this period to work on your passing.”
“Oh, ok? Do I get a say in this?”
“Nope,” Porter joked, “You need some one-on-one instruction, and besides, the rest of the class is gonna be learning how to hike the ball. Do you really want to have to do that?”
“Um—“ I guess not, “No, not really.”
Mr. Sharp sighed, “Pity for you, Porter.”
“Huh?” Val shot the teacher a confused look; he whispered something to Porter she couldn’t hear. “What did you say?” Porter was laughing uproariously.
“Nothing,” Porter assured once he was back in control of himself, “So, let’s go over there so we don’t get in anyone’s way,” he grabbed a football from the bag and led the way to the far end of the field; a couple of their classmates hadn’t finished the pre-class jog. “What you need to know about throwing a football, is that it’s not about how hard you throw it. It’s—“
“It’s not?” Val interrupted.
“Nope. Think about it—you could throw the hardest pass ever, but if it doesn’t get where it needs to go, what’s the use?”
Val shrugged, “I guess that’s a good point.”
“When I watched you passing last time, you were flailing around a lot,” Porter continued, “Which I think was because you were trying too hard to throw a really hard pass. I’m gonna stand a few feet away, and I want you to pass the ball to me without worrying how hard you throw it. Just get it to me.” He took five steps away and turned around.
Val did her best to throw the ball according to Porter’s instructions; she lightly tossed the ball towards him, without any flailing or excess theatrics—the ball fell to the ground only a few feet from her.
Porter laughed, “You need a bit more power than that.”
Val’s cheeks reddened; from across the field, Mr. Sharp yelled, “Good try!” The entire class turned to see what he was commenting on, making Val even more embarrassed.
“Here, try again.” Porter retrieved the football and tossed it to Val. “Add a little more power than that; you had the right idea, just not quite enough zip.” He backed away, and gestured for Val to try another pass.
She tried to remember the motion she’d just used, and repeated it faster. To her surprise, the football launched toward Porter; he stuck out a hand and caught it. Val gave a quick whoop, and thrust both hands in the air in celebration.
“Good job,” Porter said, “It wasn’t the best pass I’ve ever seen, but—“
“Don’t take this away from me,” Val giggled, “I’m gonna be the next big quarterback.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Porter smiled; he set the footba
ll down and hoisted Val into the air.
“What are you doing?” Val asked in a panic.
“Victory lap,” Porter replied as he started to jog around the field, still holding Val. It wasn’t very comfortable, but Val had to admit he had an entertaining sense of humor.
Porter let her down on the far end of the field, “Sorry, you’re heavy.”
Val huffed, “First you tell me I’m anorexic, and then you say I’m heavy. I probably only weigh like half of what you do.”
“I doubt it,” Porter’s expression matched the sentiment, “How much do you weigh?”
“Like a hundred, one-oh-five.”
Porter whistled, “You’re a small little thing.”
“I’m not a ‘thing’,” Val assumed an angry expression.
“You’re right,” Porter nodded, “Anyway, let’s get back to it.”
They spent the rest of the period passing the football back and forth; by the end of class Val was beginning to understand why some people might see football as fun. It was certainly more interesting passing the ball back and forth when the passes tended to go where they were supposed to; Val had a couple that fell straight to the ground, but other than that she noticed a definite improvement.
Lunch came quickly, with the next two periods seeming to rush by; Val spent them trying to figure out Porter’s behavior. It’s almost like he’s flirting with me, she thought, and wasn’t sure how she would feel about that if it were the case. Val was planning on sitting with the Trio, despite what had transpired yesterday, when she saw Aiden and Noah sitting by themselves in a corner.
Neither of the boys looked up when Val approached; she cleared her throat, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Aiden replied cautiously. A few awkward seconds of silence passed; “Aren’t you afraid to be seen with us or something?”
“No, of course not,” Val glanced at the wall, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for Alex. He can be mean sometimes, but he’s really a nice person.”
Aiden laughed, “Right. I’m sure he’s got a heart of gold. You know, when he’s not busy enforcing the pecking order as he sees it.”
Val crossed to the side of the table opposite the pair and sat down, “Yeah, I know he hasn’t exactly been the nicest to you, but he’s always been nice to me—“ She defended.
Noah whispered something Val didn’t quite catch; “I’m sorry?” she said.
Aiden looked back from Noah to Val, “Sorry, I’m not gonna repeat it.”
In a rare display of courage, Noah locked eyes with Val and spoke audibly, “I said he’s nice to you because you have tits.”
Val’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?”
Noah seemed to have exhausted his courage; he blushed and looked at the floor.
“You can’t just say something like that and not explain,” Val pressed, “What did you mean?”
Aiden jumped to his friend’s defense, “I think he just meant that Alex is nice to you because of how you look. He may not have chosen the most eloquent phrasing, but he does have a point.”
“That’s not true,” Val argued.
“Really,” Aiden huffed, “Did you forget that I was there when Alex first befriended you? And for a while after?”
“No.”
“Then how can you honestly believe me to believe that your friendship isn’t based on looks? I mean, he literally told you that you were too attractive to talk to me—“ Aiden trailed off, his point made.
“Yeah—“ Val swallowed back embarrassment caused by the memory, “But he’s nice to his friends too—“
Noah laughed; it was a harsh, angry laugh. Aiden shrugged, “Everyone’s nice to their friends, Val. I don’t judge based on that, I judge based on how someone treats the people they see as beneath them. And in that regard, Alex is—well, not the best person in the world.” A wild look crossed his face, “You are, though.”
Val was taken aback by the compliment, “I’m the best person in the world?”
“Well, I—I mean, you still talk to me even though no one else does, and you’re nice to just about everyone,” Aiden smiled in a fruitless attempt to smooth over the awkward situation.
Val sighed, “Tell that to Jenny. Anyway, I’ve got—some homework to do,” she tried to make it sound like more than just an excuse to leave the table—and the conversation. She grabbed her bag and with calm, controlled steps made her way out of the cafeteria and to the library.
There was only one open table in the library, right next to the computers. Val took a seat as she tried to figure out if there was anything she could work on.
“Hey stranger,” Derrick leaned out from behind a nearby computer. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Val smiled, “Hey Derrick. Yeah, it has been a while, hasn’t it?” She got up and moved to sit at the computer next to him.
“So,” Derrick said, “How’s life?”
Val shrugged, “Normal, I guess. Porter taught me how to throw a football today.”
“Cool cool. So that’s his game?”
“Huh?” Val didn’t understand.
Derrick smiled mischievously, “Nevermind. So why haven’t you ordered any salads recently? I know a certain delivery boy who would love another twenty dollar tip.”
Val giggled, “I don’t really order salads from pizza places. No offense, but it just never seems like a good idea.”
“You did that one time though,” Derrick pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s cause Mckayla and her brother wanted pizza, and I didn’t want to be rude and not get anything. Mckayla and I, we—we haven’t hung out in a while.”
“Why not?”
Val sighed, surprised by how sad she still was over the whole series of events, “Just drama, that’s all.”
Derrick faked a gagging noise, “Ugh, drama. Thank god I’m not a girl.”
“Tell me about it. If I could just live in a world where there was no drama or mood swings or emotional outbursts, I’d do it in a minute.”
“I have a simple solution for that,” Derrick laughed, “Become a guy. There’s still a little drama, but not nearly as much as for girls. Of course, Porter wouldn’t like that—“ Derrick frowned as he finished the last sentence.
“Hang on, why not?” Val asked.
“Cause of, uh, Keenan—and you’re dating him and, um—yeah,” Derrick stumbled.
“Does Porter like me?”
“Of course he does.”
“No, I mean like—like me like me,” Val clarified.
“Nope. He sees you as a friend, and that’s it.” He said it quickly; the bell rang before Val could press him further. “Well, gotta go,” Derrick left in a hurry.
In chemistry, Keenan’s behavior surprised Val. She didn’t know what had changed, but Keenan sat next to her, and without Jenny to stop him, kept up a constant stream of whispering the whole class.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Yeah,” Val laughed, “A couple times.”
“It’s so true though—“
Val glanced at the clock, five minutes left, “Keenan, what’s up with you?”
“What?”
“I mean like, why are you suddenly so—I don’t know, just so complementary?”
Keenan shrugged, “I have a right to complement my girlfriend, don’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“If you don’t wanna be complemented, you can just tell me,” Keenan joked.
“No, it’s fine. I just—you’re complementing me a lot.”
“Well there’s a lot to complement. Like your hair, your green eyes—“ Keenan paused—Val could feel his breath on her cheek, “and don’t even get me started on your lips.”
Val blushed as their table-mate looked up from his notes at her. “I think we’re disturbing Travis.”
“Oh well,” Keenan move in closer, “He’ll get over it.”
Val wondered what he was trying to do; did he seriously expect her to kiss him in the m
iddle of class? “Still—let’s press pause on this for now.”
“Ok, whatever you want,” Keenan conceded, “You do look very beautiful, though.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Phillips wrote the homework problems on the board; Val copied them down, and finished just before the bell.
“Are you done for the day?” Keenan asked.
Val shook her head, “No, I have to give a speech in Student Gov.”
“Ewh,” Keenan put his nearly-empty notebook away, “You sure you wouldn’t rather hang out with me?”
“I would,” Val admitted, “But this is kind of important. Maybe we can hang out Friday—“
“Why so long?”
“Cause I have soccer on Wednesday, and hopefully Thursday too.”
Keenan sighed, “Then I’ll wait. You’re worth it. Friday?”
“Yeah,” Val bit her lip, “I think my parents are supposed to be gone at some point, so we won’t have to pretend to be studying or anything.”
“Cool. I’ll text you to figure out an exact time.” Keenan pecked Val on the lips before disappearing into the crowd of students filing out of the building.
With a start, Valentina realized she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to say in Student Gov; she was planning on running for Freshman class president, and that meant she would have to give a speech. Based on what the speeches in Walker had been, it would be an exercise in promising things that everyone knew would be beyond her power, maybe I could tell them I’ll hire a personal limo for every student, Val thought as she entered the cafeteria. She giggled quietly at the thought as she found a place to sit next to Alex.
“What’s funny?” the blonde boy asked.
“Nothing,” Val replied.
“Gotta be something,” Alex reasoned. “Oh well. Do you know what you’re going to say yet?”
“Unh-uh. I guess I’ll just have to make it up as I go.”
Alex smiled, “I have a better idea. Be completely honest. At the very least, we should get a good laugh out of it.”
Val frowned; that would be tantamount to throwing away the election. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Alex gestured to their friends sitting nearby, “Val, do you realize just the five of us are almost a majority? Voting for class president is only done within the class.”