Rivals

Rivals Page 13

Classes ended for the day. Maggie changed and headed out to the practice field, watching the football players go through their drills. Her first day back to school had been a little different from Brent's. She had made plans to see all her friends at lunch, but when she got to the cafeteria not a single one of them was there. Maggie was a high school senior. She knew exactly what that meant.

Perhaps even worse, not a single boy had looked at her all day. Which was unusual, but she'd kind of expected it. Most of the cute boys were complete brain-dead twits and they looked for girls who were just as stupid as they were - girls they could take advantage of. Maggie was used to being stared at, especially when she was wearing her field hockey uniform which showed off a serious amount of leg, but she knew the football players weren't looking for a girl who could run faster than they could and beat them up without trying if they got a little too affectionate.

So they were ignoring her. It wasn't just that they didn't say hi. They never had before. But they weren't whistling at her. They weren't making rude comments to each other about her body. And they made an all-too-obvious show of not meeting her gaze for so much as a second. As if she wasn't a girl at all. As if she were some weird species of sea creature that was probably slimy to the touch.

So when one of them threw a pass that went a little too long and the ball bounced crazily across the grass toward her, she dashed over and grabbed it before Mark Hockenberry, the starting quarterback, could reach it.

He stared at her in confusion, then glanced back at the other players. "Little help?" he asked, when she just stood there smiling at him, balancing the football on her index finger.

"Sure," she said. She pulled her arm back and threw the ball at Hockenberry as hard as she could.

Because he was a jock and because he had a reputation for never flubbing a pass in his entire athletic career, he made the mistake of trying to catch it. She'd known he would. The ball hit him in his armored sternum and knocked him backwards across the lines painted on the grass. He slid ten yards before he came to a stop. And lay there, groaning.

Maggie frowned. She hoped, sort of, that she hadn't hurt him.

But then he sat up and held the ball in the air. The rest of the team cheered and rushed over to help him up and pat him on the back. And still, they didn't so much as glance at Maggie.

"That was unnecessary, Maggot," someone said behind her.

She whirled around and saw Jill Hennessey standing there, with Dana Kravitz close by but just a few steps behind. Maggie and Jill were not exactly what you would call friends. They were both on the field hockey team, and they had worked together to win a lot of games. But they never went out for pizza together after a victory. More tellingly, they did not have each others' numbers in their respective phones.

"It amused me, Pill. And I crave amusement. What do you want?"

"Not a thing for myself," Jill told her. "However. An associate of mine had a question that I thought you could answer. If you'd like to earn a little goodwill from the student body."

By which, of course, Jill meant her circle of stuck-up friends. They were the only ones, in Jill's opinion, whose goodwill mattered.

"Whatever," Maggie shrugged. "Shoot."

Dana Kravitz looked over her friend's shoulder at Maggie. She looked scared.

Maggie kind of liked that.

"It's only of passing interest, but this associate of mine, who shall not be named, wanted to know something about your brother. She was curious - just curious, mind you, we are not brokering any kind of social arrangement here - whether he's seeing anyone."

Maggie laughed out loud. "What, my little dweeb brother? Be serious. I doubt he's ever seen a girl with her shirt off. Oh, I suppose there's Lucy Benez."

"Who? You mean the cripple?" Jill asked. "He's dating that?"

"She's painfully obvious about being in love with him. But I don't think they've even held hands in a romantic fashion." Maggie smiled wickedly. "Not that I would know. I don't exactly keep tabs on his love life."

"No, of course not," Jill said. She turned around. "Alright, Dana. You may go now. Maggot and I have practice in a few minutes. I'm sure you have some batons to twirl to keep yourself entertained until I'm done."

Dana Kravitz nodded primly and fled the scene.

"You really are a vicious animal, aren't you, Pill?" Maggie asked.

Jill hefted her stick in the air. "I'm a competitor."

Coach Peters blew his whistle and the girls' field hockey team lined up for orders. Maggie had been on the team since freshman year and though she'd never been a star player the others had learned to rely on her. She was great on defense, usually serving as the team's sweeper, and she was always willing to smack an opponent in the shinguards at the right moment, even if it meant taking a penalty.

The coach had always liked her, she thought. She put everything she had into the game. She honestly loved it, in a way she loved very few things. Yet as he walked down the line toward her, his face was scrunched up with worry and he had trouble meeting her eyes. Just like the football players.

"Maggie, you can go change," he said, finally. He was speaking in a voice barely louder than a whisper. She was used to him shouting commands at her - she liked it when he did, because things made sense when you were out on the field with your stick in your hand and somebody was telling you what to do. Now he sounded apologetic and she felt very lost.

"Why? What's going on?" she asked.

He grimaced and looked at the rest of the team. They were disciplined, winners all, and they looked straight ahead. Of course, Jill couldn't resist the urge to whisper something to the girl who stood next to her, who started to laugh and then controlled herself. Coach Peters shot a nasty look at Jill and then put his hand on Maggie's shoulder.

She shrugged it off. "I want to know what's going on," she repeated.

"Do you want to maybe talk to the principal? Because I need you to understand this wasn't my decision. But there's no way we can let you play this season. It wouldn't be fair to the other grils - or the other teams, for that matter. Not now that you're... enhanced."

"I'm not taking steroids!" she insisted. "This is ridiculous!"

"I'm sorry," he told her. "The decision is final."

She grabbed her stick hard enough to make the fiberglass creak and then took her mouthguard out of her pocket. "Here," she said, and shoved it in the coach's hand. "I wouldn't want anyone to think I was stealing school property. You can have my stick if you can find it."

"It's in your hand," the coach said, looking puzzled.

She spun from the waist and flung it into the sky. It would probably land in the next town over. "Whoops," she said.

"Maggie!" he said, suddenly angry. "What did I teach you about self-control?"

"I can't remember. It must have been the day I wasn't paying attention - the same day you gave us the speech on how everyone should get a chance to play." She pushed past him and walked down the line of her former fellow players, trying to get a reaction out of any of them. Hoping at least one of them would protest, or even just say they felt bad. The only one who would look at her was Jill.

"Maybe they need someone in the pep squad," Jill suggested.

Maggie told her exactly what she could go and do.