I could swear Kali blushes. “Yeah, I’m cool. You ready?”
“I was born ready.” The songbird trills out a high note to prove it. “Which poem are you doing?”
“Made up a new one.” Kali hands Cassandra an extra small.
“Thanks! I can’t wait to hear it.” She skips away.
After dispensing with several more volunteers, we’re down to one. Vicky arrives by herself, sporting dark sunglasses, maybe to shield her from the glare off her gold tracksuit. Crossing her arms in front of her, she shows us her profile. Without her peeps, and in the middle of this festooned field, she looks like a cat floating on a pool chair, nervous and slightly ridiculous.
Kali tosses a shirt at her. “Designer, for you.”
Vicky tosses it back. “There’s no way I’m putting that on.”
“No shirt, no service.” Kali chucks the shirt back at Vicky.
Principal Swizinger, standing only a few feet away, lasers Vicky with her eyes. This time, Vicky hangs on to the shirt, and her scowl morphs into a smile. “This is going to be so . . . gay.”
Kali’s wide nostrils flare and her mouth tightens, as if she’s trying to keep her tongue from letting loose. I jerk my head toward one of the orange cones. “Team Four.”
Vicky picks her way across the grass toward the cone.
“Psh.” Kali lobs her gaze to the sky. “So did you fix Alice?”
“I ran into some complications.”
“What complications?”
“I lost my nose,” I say in a tight voice.
“Looks like it’s still there to me.”
I shake my head, forcing my tears back into their corners. “I’m toast.”
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Kali bumps my arm with hers, and I’m so grateful for her sympathy, I nearly lose it.
“Oh, great, Kali, you made it.” Hope with the blond crew cut holds out a megaphone to her.
“Talofa. Sorry I’m late.”
“Let me show you the buttons.” Hope leads Kali to an adjacent table. The two consult while I regain my composure.
“Did I miss anything?” In front of me, Drew runs a hand through his blond hair.
“Oh, hello.” A pang of guilt hits me again at his guileless face, with his blue eyes enlarged by his glasses and his clear skin. “You’re with your friend Parker, Team Seventeen. Grab a shirt.”
Drew gamely pulls the Day-Glo tee over his black ensemble. He shades his eyes as he scans the field for his friend. “Wait. Can I be with her?”
My eyes travel to where he’s pointing. Fifty feet toward the school, Vicky clutches her purse like she’s on a New York City subway. Before I can reply, Drew skips away. The chain linking his pants to his wallet slaps him on the back of his thigh with each stride. Kali notices, and frowns at me.
I smash my clipboard to my chest. If I had it to do over again, would I choose differently? Undecided. Vicky might be a shark out of water right now, but once we get off the field, Kali’s chum number one. Kali deserves to live her life on her own terms.
A cloud passes over the sun, and the change in temperature chills my skin. In some way, I feel responsible for Kali’s predicament. If I hadn’t come to school, Vicky would not have seen an opportunity in me. I’m like a strange magnet whose verypresence seems to screw with people’s compasses, shifting them in new directions. I couldn’t have foreseen the trouble I would cause here. But it doesn’t erase any of my guilt.
A bus rumbles onto the field, then parks. The happy faces of dozens of kids stare out the windows.
Kali fiddles with the megaphone, then holds it to her mouth. “Sup, everyone.” Her friendly voice booms across the field. “We’re makin’ Thanksgiving baskets with the kids. Teach ’em about veggies, like radishes and sh—”
The principal clears her throat loudly and gives Kali a severe look.
