“Hey, Toby. If you’re done with your inner rant/identity crisis, you might want to join us. Everyone’s talking about you and Jack, and I want the inside scoop.” Zee put her arm around my shoulder and guided me to our table. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that she knew exactly what was running through my mind. Same old, same old.
“There is no inside scoop,” I told Zee as we took our seats.“We’re going to homecoming together. He kissed me in the hallway. End of story.”
Luckily, before the others could pump me for more information, Jack sat down at our table, and the topic of conversation turned away from our social lives and toward our chances of beating Hillside on Friday. The amount of enmity the people at our table showed for the Hillside Bobcats made the cool, detached way we dealt with terrorist threats look like rhythmic gymnastics.
“We’re going to massacre them! Those SOBs won’t know what hit ’em.” Chip waxed poetic about Hillside’s impending doom. “We’re going to demolish them. They won’t even see it coming, those …”
“They’re totally going down,” Lucy chimed in.
“They’ll forego the rest of their season out of sheer embarrassment.” That one was from Tara.
“We’ll crush ’em.” Chip again.
“Kill them?” Bubbles asked, not quite sure if that was the appropriate response.
“Yeah,” Chip agreed. “And you girls will put their cheerleaders to shame. Next to you, they’ll look like dogs.” Chip was losing a little of his steam now that he wasn’t speaking in terms of violent metaphors.
“Really ugly dogs,” one of the Chiplings assured us.
“So their cheerleaders are ugly, their football players are wimps, and they’re our archrivals because why?” It was either ask the question, or try to join in with the rabble-rousing by making some kind of comment about crushing our enemies’ bones to powder, and I opted away from the melodrama.
Everyone at the entire table paused at my question, and I realized this was one of those times when I just should have kept my mouth shut. Forget orders not to engage the TCIs. I should have adopted a strict No Engagement policy with the football team.
“She’s right,” Jack said, and I got the distinct feeling that I was the only one who could hear the sarcastic undertone to his voice. “We’re going to beat them so badly that next year, they won’t have the cajones to call us their rivals.”
The Chipling sitting nearest Zee, who I inferred was probably her homecoming date, spoke up then. “That’s right, son,” he said, pounding his fist into the table. “Bayport High doesn’t have a rival. Nobody can touch us.”
Eventually, the conversation tapered off, and once I’d actually managed to ingest my food, I decided to make a quick exit before somebody brought up me and Jack again, or before I became possessed by enough school spirit that I felt compelled to actually insult the collective manhood of the Hillside football team.
“I’ll be back.” I lied through my teeth, knowing as I did it that there wasn’t a girl on the Squad who I would fool. “Just going to run to the bathroom real quick.”
Immediately, Lucy and Bubbles stood to follow. Over the past few weeks, I’d come to accept the fact that it was a law of girl nature that for reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, going to the bathroom required as much backup as even the most dangerous reconnaissance maneuvers. The three of us passed Noah’s table on the way to the bathroom, and I knew better than to hope that he wouldn’t notice. Noah’s cheerleader radar wasmore advanced than anything the government could possibly develop. Zeroing in on the incoming hotties, he stood up. For one horrifying instant, I thought that he might have more Toby for Homecoming Queen shenanigans up his sleeve, but ultimately, his flirting impulse won out, and I was left trying to decide which of the two was a lesser evil.
“Hello, ladies.” Noah grinned in a way that he probably thought was suave, but that actually made him look like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I said, trying to put an end to this interaction before he could proposition one of my Squadmates.
Bubbles and Lucy, however, either didn’t catch or chose to blatantly ignore my not-so-subtle hint that we were leaving. The two of them looked at each other and then at me, and before I could stop her, Bubbles offered Noah the same greeting she’d given me the first time we’d met.
“I can put my feet behind my head.”
Noah’s mouth dropped open, and for a moment, he was speechless.
Quick, I thought, while he’s still recovering! “Come on, guys,” I said, grabbing their arms and pulling them forward. “Let’s go.”
“You can put both feet behind your head,” Noah repeated, his voice full of reverent awe. “There is a God.” And with that pronouncement, he fell to his knees and raised his arms heavenward. “Hallelujah!”
Beside me, Lucy giggled, and even though I half expected her to match Bubbles’s overture, just to tease me, she didn’t. Instead, she did something much, much worse. She smiledshyly at Noah, and he grinned goofily back, both of them eerily subdued compared to their normal selves.
“Hi.” Noah climbed to his feet, and instead of dishing out one of his many standard pickup lines (none of which were effective; most of which were severely idiotic), he just offered Lucy an earnest smile.
“Hi,” Lucy returned, ducking her head a little and matching Noah’s grin with another of her own.
My brother and our resident weapons expert were officially having a moment. No good could come of this.
“We have to go,” I said again. I tightened my hold on Lucy’s arm and pulled her forcibly toward the bathroom. Bubbles trailed after us, leaving Noah in our wake. When we made it to the sanctuary of the girls’ room, I turned my full-force glare on Lucy.
“What?” she said innocently.
