could say that I shouted.
“Pardon?” said Kendra. Pardon sounds like a polite thing to say, but it was not. She looked surprised and disgusted, as if I’d just tossed her a leaking lunch bag or something.
“I said, wow, how did you get the part?”
“
How did I get the part
. No offence,” said Kendra, “but why are you talking to me?”
Why was I talking to her? Why would anybody talk to her? That is what I was tempted to say, but it was too risky for day one at a brand new school. Instead, I clenched my face into a smile. The smile hurt.
Sienna looked at Kendra, then at me. “Yeah,” Sienna said. “Why are you, like, following us around?”
“Just ...” I said. “Just.” Still smiling, I turned away.
“This is her,” Kendra whispered behind me. She was probably imitating my stupid, phony smile, but I didn’t turn around to see.
My face was hot as I walked away, but I was determined to have a better joining-in experience immediately, as an urgent antidote. A game of Capture the Flag was happening on the hill that sloped down from the school toward the basketball court. The hill was the perfect place for Capture the Flag. It was all landscaped with a million beautiful shrubs, so there were lots of good ambush spots, and lots of places to hide flags. I watched as kids ran between bushes, and ran around bushes, and got tagged, and sat on the ground in invisible jail. Then a guy came streaking out of the rhododendrons, a black hoodie flapping in his hand. He was being chased, but the chaser couldn’t catch him. The first guy ran and ran, then stopped and made victory arms. It was Devo. He had captured the flag, and the game was over.
As they headed to the bottom of the hill to start another game, I followed, prepared to join in. I intended to ask somebody about it. “Can I play,” I would say, but no—that sounded childish. “Can I join you?” would make me sound about forty-five years old. “What team should I be on,” sounded better. I was still examining this phrase for flaws, though, when everybody started running. The game was on. I was about to miss my chance. Should I just pick a team myself? Mom’s voice played in my mind, telling me to just join in. Her voice was sympathetic, but a bit impatient too. So I did just join in. I ran with Devo’s team into enemy territory.
I ran for all I was worth between and around and in and out of bushes. I sort of wanted to get tagged, because I thought I might meet kids in jail. Jail could be a bonding experience. No one tagged me though, so I kept on running. And then I saw the black hoodie, lying in the dust under a bright red bush. The enemy flag. It was a cool hoodie with a heart and crossbone logo and it looked more expensive than any piece of clothing I owned. I bent down and snatched it by the cuff. I had captured the flag: this would be even better than jail for my social advancement.
I turned to start my run back to home territory. Devo stood in front of me. Why was he doing that? I was on his team. He was going to wreck my victory. He was going to get me tagged. Because suddenly there were kids all around. I stepped to the left. Devo blocked my way. Then he just stared. He stared, deciding what he wanted to do with me. “Excuse me,” he said, pointing to the black hoodie, “but we need that for our game.” He said this very politely. He said it too politely, as if he was making fun of the whole idea of politeness. And what was he suggesting? That I was
stealing
the hoodie?
The game seemed to have stopped. Everybody was just standing around us watching. I held out the hoodie.A slow second later, Devo lifted his hand to take it. I knew I should just say that I wanted to join the game. But I could not say it. I turned and walked up the hill. Holding the black hoodie, Devo headed down the hill and everyone else came straggling from the bushes after him. One of the girls trailed the yellow sweatshirt that was Devo’s team flag.
“Pardon?” said Kendra. Pardon sounds like a polite thing to say, but it was not. She looked surprised and disgusted, as if I’d just tossed her a leaking lunch bag or something.
“I said, wow, how did you get the part?”
“
How did I get the part
. No offence,” said Kendra, “but why are you talking to me?”
Why was I talking to her? Why would anybody talk to her? That is what I was tempted to say, but it was too risky for day one at a brand new school. Instead, I clenched my face into a smile. The smile hurt.
Sienna looked at Kendra, then at me. “Yeah,” Sienna said. “Why are you, like, following us around?”
“Just ...” I said. “Just.” Still smiling, I turned away.
“This is her,” Kendra whispered behind me. She was probably imitating my stupid, phony smile, but I didn’t turn around to see.
My face was hot as I walked away, but I was determined to have a better joining-in experience immediately, as an urgent antidote. A game of Capture the Flag was happening on the hill that sloped down from the school toward the basketball court. The hill was the perfect place for Capture the Flag. It was all landscaped with a million beautiful shrubs, so there were lots of good ambush spots, and lots of places to hide flags. I watched as kids ran between bushes, and ran around bushes, and got tagged, and sat on the ground in invisible jail. Then a guy came streaking out of the rhododendrons, a black hoodie flapping in his hand. He was being chased, but the chaser couldn’t catch him. The first guy ran and ran, then stopped and made victory arms. It was Devo. He had captured the flag, and the game was over.
As they headed to the bottom of the hill to start another game, I followed, prepared to join in. I intended to ask somebody about it. “Can I play,” I would say, but no—that sounded childish. “Can I join you?” would make me sound about forty-five years old. “What team should I be on,” sounded better. I was still examining this phrase for flaws, though, when everybody started running. The game was on. I was about to miss my chance. Should I just pick a team myself? Mom’s voice played in my mind, telling me to just join in. Her voice was sympathetic, but a bit impatient too. So I did just join in. I ran with Devo’s team into enemy territory.
I ran for all I was worth between and around and in and out of bushes. I sort of wanted to get tagged, because I thought I might meet kids in jail. Jail could be a bonding experience. No one tagged me though, so I kept on running. And then I saw the black hoodie, lying in the dust under a bright red bush. The enemy flag. It was a cool hoodie with a heart and crossbone logo and it looked more expensive than any piece of clothing I owned. I bent down and snatched it by the cuff. I had captured the flag: this would be even better than jail for my social advancement.
I turned to start my run back to home territory. Devo stood in front of me. Why was he doing that? I was on his team. He was going to wreck my victory. He was going to get me tagged. Because suddenly there were kids all around. I stepped to the left. Devo blocked my way. Then he just stared. He stared, deciding what he wanted to do with me. “Excuse me,” he said, pointing to the black hoodie, “but we need that for our game.” He said this very politely. He said it too politely, as if he was making fun of the whole idea of politeness. And what was he suggesting? That I was
stealing
the hoodie?
The game seemed to have stopped. Everybody was just standing around us watching. I held out the hoodie.A slow second later, Devo lifted his hand to take it. I knew I should just say that I wanted to join the game. But I could not say it. I turned and walked up the hill. Holding the black hoodie, Devo headed down the hill and everyone else came straggling from the bushes after him. One of the girls trailed the yellow sweatshirt that was Devo’s team flag.
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