“Let them know they’re all invited to dinner tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“We’re grilling out. Bob has friends coming over,” Melissa admitted.
I nodded.
“Thank you. I’ll see if they want to come. I’ll text you with a firm number,” I assured her.
Paul and I made our exit.
“You realize that Moose and Coach Haskins would never pass up a home-cooked meal,” Paul told me.
“I know, but they’ll have to put up with a bunch of eleven-year-olds.”
“Bob is full of energy,” Paul agreed.
◊◊◊
Dinner was fun. Bob had three of his buddies over, and I told them how I stole the Millennium Falcon off the
Rob rubbed me the wrong way. He was a cocky little bastard, one of those guys who had an even better story, no matter what anyone talked about. Rob told me he was a runner, and that if I wanted to, he would take me on his usual run tomorrow. Moose shook his head ‘no’ because he could tell I planned to run the man into the ground. I told Rob that I wasn’t sure what tomorrow held, so I would wait to run.
It was true, I had no idea what they planned to do with us. If it was like Elite 11, they might try to kill us. I certainly didn’t want to run before that.
When it was time, we all drove to the welcome party. It gave me a chance to meet all the other players. I took Bob with me and introduced him as my host-family brother. He was beaming with pride.
Unlike Elite 11, the players seemed to be wary of not just me, but also each other. I guess everyone had figured out that there would be actual cuts. They all seemed nice enough, but you could tell they’d put on a mask to cover their worries.
The actor in me found it fascinating.
◊◊◊
There were a few girls at the party. One of the players, Dave Gordon, had the best-looking girl there with him. The funny part was that he seemed to think she liked him, but I got the impression that she just tolerated the boy. There was another girl who watched them like a hawk. She was a wallflower who disappeared into the scenery. She would move in the background every time they did, as if she was stalking them.
I eased over and stood behind her.
“Do you think they’re really a couple?” I asked.
The poor girl dropped her drink and jumped back, nearly knocking me down.
“Shit!” she cried.
Suddenly, everyone had turned to stare at us. With the glare of light on her, she scurried off like a cockroach you find in your bathroom sink at 2 a.m. I waited a few minutes and then went to find her. It took a while, but I spotted her sitting on a bench outside.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Why are
I sat down next to her and took a moment to get a closer look. She was one of those girls boys joked about that if you put a sack over their head, you’d do them. The poor girl must have hit every ugly branch when she fell out of the tree. She had a hot body, though. Yes, men are pigs.
“You okay?” I asked again.
Her dramatic sigh had me impressed.
“My brother is such a dick,” Miss Wallflower began.
I had a bad feeling I might have just made a mistake. It was becoming clear she needed to talk, and, for whatever reason, girls seemed to want to tell me their life story.
“He hit the genetic lottery. Meanwhile, I’m this,” she said, waving her hands around theatrically. “Do you remember that movie? The one with Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger?”
It took me a moment.
“
“Exactly. A guy at school had the nerve to tell me that my brother and I reminded him of them.”
I barked out a laugh.
“It’s not funny. My brother got the good looks and athletic build. He thinks everyone loves him. In reality, he’s a self-righteous prick.
“Do you know what he did to me?” she asked.
I shook my head ‘no.’
“My best friend!” she declared and then gave me the stink eye. “Yes, I actually had a friend. Notice I said ‘had.’ My brother invited her to accompany him tonight. I’m sure the only reason she did it was that everyone puts up with my brother because he’s a good baseball player. Her social status will sharply increase after this.
“What a bitch! I can’t believe she’d do that to me,” Miss Wallflower said.
“Which one is your brother?” I asked.
“Dave Gordon.”
Now it made sense.
“I’m David,” I said, offering her my hand.
“Mr. Ed.”
“Come again?” I asked.
“Everyone calls me ‘Horse Face’ or ‘Mr. Ed.’ I decided to just own it. Screw ’em.”
“How about I just call you ‘M.E.,’” I suggested.
“Whatever,” she said, and then launched off on another tangent. “Did you know that man is the only species who has sex face-to-face? Well, there’s one kind of monkey that does it that way, too.”
“I … uh … guess that’s good to know.”
“Do you think anyone will ever want to have sex with me face-to-face?”
“No, probably not.”
She started to laugh.
“Thanks. I needed that.”
“Are you about ready to go back in there and spy on your brother?” I asked.
