Read Online Driver's Ed by Caroline B. Cooney - Free Book Online Page A

and who scrunched them down. Hair. Whose fell out of the ponytail and whose bangs were sweaty wet.
    â€œRemy!” bellowed the coach. “Pay attention! This is
basket
ball!” As if she had been playing soccer.
    A teacher paused carelessly in the door, his timing stating clearly that JV games were worth no more.
    Remy’s father, loaded down with videocam and baby brother, and her mother, burdened with diapers,snack, bottle, toys, juice, and blanket, trooped in. Mom shouted hello to other parents, kissed little brothers and sisters, greeted older brothers and sisters, noticed who had grown and who’d had haircuts and who was wearing new shoes.
    â€œRemy! This is
basket
ball!”
    Remy forced herself back into the game.
    Morgan and Lark walked into the gym and climbed the bleachers to the top.
    Morgan, like any boy, never had been, never would be, at a girls’ JV game. Morgan, however, was at a girls’ JV game.
    Right away there was a call against Remy.
    â€œAre you blind?” her father screamed. His hobby was Helping the Ref. In the first quarter he still had a clean mouth. “What are you, a shoe salesman? You got two eyes?”
    Remy’s teammates looked at her long and sadly. Their fathers had clean mouths. Their fathers did not embarrass the entire team and school. Their fathers sat next to Remy’s, though, and egged him on.
    If Remy’s team was ahead, Dad was sometimes able to remain calm. If they were getting shellacked, Dad would kick the bleachers and shout things about the ref’s family background. Frequently Dad informed the ref that his brain was located in another part of his body.
    Not in front of Morgan, Remy prayed. Come on, God, do your thing. Keep Dad’s mouth shut. Let me make a basket. Let Morgan be here with Lark because Morgan arranged it, not because Lark did.
    L ark and Morgan sat beneath a huge banner made by the cheerleaders, proclaiming, WE WILL CRUSH YOU !
    Lark was happy. She had been asked, she knew, in the role of escort, to make it possible for Morgan to attend. If he came alone he would be obvious, but if he wandered in with Remy’s girlfriend Lark, nobody would think anything of it. It was important, when you were getting interested in a girl, that nobody should be able to tell.
    Of course, every girl could always tell, but the boys thought they were being crafty and invisible.
    Mr. Marland whistled with two fingers in his mouth. He sounded like a freight train ripping through the building.
    Lark did not know how her parents would behave in public. They never came to anything, even teacher conferences. They had basically skipped Lark’s life. She didn’t mind. She had made her own.
    And her own game involved looking out for herself, since nobody else was doing it. Nickie Budie’s voice, when he’d called Thursday afternoon to arrange a pickup time, had been a warning signal. He was a Future Criminal of America if there ever was one, and what had seemed like an amusing adventure suddenly sounded tricky, THICKLY SETTLED was nice, but not getting caught was nicer.
    Lark hoped Remy would play well in front of Morgan, although Remy didn’t play well in front of anybody else, so why would she rise to this occasion? Rumor had it once the season started, Remy wouldn’t be kept on Junior Varsity, a form of humiliation few suffered.
    Lark herself competed only in sports without spectators. Never in this world would Lark be a fool in front of a crowd. Field hockey and softball were okay because nobody ever came. Basketball was different. By thethird quarter, and definitely the fourth, the gym would begin to fill. People arriving for Varsity would want to see how the younger girls were doing; what their potential was.
    She glanced at Morgan. Yes, definitely a boy deciding what the potential was.
    â€œB lue ball!” the ref shouted.
    â€œA blind man can see it’s White!” bellowed Mr. Marland.
    Morgan loved