7
KEEP SMILING
CLEO
I LEAN BACK IN MY BUS SEAT AND TEXT MY DAD.
Just on our way to St. Clare University. Game starts at 7:00. Hope to see you there!
Driving all the way to Monarch is tough for him after a full day of work, but the SCU campus is only a half-hour drive from his place, so fingers crossed. I stash my phone away. My weekly message-in-a-bottle to my dad is sent out with more hope than expectation, but I’m an optimist.
Jinx is beside me on the bus. She’s biting her fingernails and staring out the window. This very un-Jinx-like behaviour means that she’s nervous. When I look around me, there are a few tensed faces. It’s a big game, since St. Clare is in first place and we’re in second. Winner takes first.
But stressed out is no way to go into a big game. We need to loosen up.
Anyone want to hear about my second dinner at Marjorie’s? I call out.
Oh god, yes, Jinx exclaims, and there are cheers of agreement. Everyone loved hearing about our first dinner: the huge mansion, Marjorie’s feisty personality, and my whispered insults.
Unfortunately, it was Mats’s night to shine, I confess. Who knew that he has an encyclopedic knowledge of oldies music? Marjorie broke out the record player and made us dance.
Oh my god! You and Mats danced together? I need all the details, Jinx squeals.
Is this fake dating turning into real dating? Gilly asks. Mats was right; I was so horrified at having to spend more time with him that I told my friends almost the moment I left Barb’s office.
Absolutely not, I reply, but without my usual disgust. I hate to admit it, but I don’t actually hate Mats anymore. I’ve tried hard to maintain my resentment, but he’s not the cold, emotionless robot I pictured.
There’s a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth when he’s trying not to smile. And I see that twitch whenever Marjorie says something outrageous, or even when I whisper insults. As Mats said, the more I get to know him, the harder it is not to see him as a fully dimensional person. However, I can still resent him for being a know-it-all who happens to be right.
Guys, it wasn’t slow dancing! We weren’t touching or anything, I explain, even if there’s a teeny tiny part of me that wished it had been. I shake my head to get rid of that insane fantasy. There’s no way Mats and I could ever work out, especially since my brother can’t stand him.
Jinx, pull up ‘Do You Love Me’ by The Hollies, I command. When she starts the music, I jump into the aisle and show off the Twist and the Mashed Potato, which Marjorie actually demonstrated for us. I was worried she was going to throw out her hip, but she was surprisingly spry.
Soon I have my teammates laughing at my exaggerated moves.
Now try to imagine the super-serious Roy Matsumoto shaking his leg like a potato masher, I tell my giggling audience. But, for the first time, I feel a stab of guilt. Mats was such a good sport about dancing while Marjorie and Geraldine called out directions to us.
Is a potato masher a real thing? Lisa Doiron asks.
Fuck yeah. Geraldine even brought one out to show us, I huff between dance moves. How does TayTay sing and dance at the same time?
I can’t believe it, Jinx says. I always thought he was dark and brooding.
Of course, his best dance was the Jerk, I swallow down my guilt for the sake of team laughs, then fling my arms up and down to the music. Mats’s best dance was actually the Watusi, where he rotated his hips around in a way that had Marjorie fanning herself.
By the time the song ends and I collapse back in my seat, everyone is loose and happy. Coach Burton gives me a nod. Sure, I act like a fool sometimes, but I’m not just showing off. Burty told me that this year’s team is really gelling, and she thinks it’s because of my leadership style. My strength is reading the room. I’m the biggest cheerleader for my teammates, and I make sure everyone’s included. I’ve been on clique-y teams where half the team doesn’t like the other half, and they totally suck.
We head into the arena in a happy bubble of chatter and excitement about the big game. We play hard, but the game ends up in overtime, and SCU wins.
In the dressing room, Cori Freedman is slumped on the bench, half-undressed and staring into space. She’s our backup goalie, but she started tonight. And she’s taking the loss hard.
I sit beside her. You played your ass off. I should have scored on that glorious chance in the third, and we wouldn’t have gone into OT.
She doesn’t even look my way. I let the winning goal in. It was my chance to show Coach I can handle the pressure. Otherwise, Knudy will have to start every game.
Knudy would like nothing more than to start every game, but it’s good for her to get a rest once in a while.
What about that glorious pad stack you made at the beginning of the game? We wouldn’t even have gotten a point if they’d scored on that shot. That was a save for the ages, I say.
