BLINDSIDED

This was the first time Rod had seen the new student up close, but she didn’t seem to be aware of him as she rushed past and continued down the corridor at a rapid pace. On the other occasions, he had barely caught a glimpse of her as they passed in the crowded hallway between classes. She seemed always to be in a perpetual hurry, or at least she was the two or three times he had seen her. She was probably one of those brainy students who set in the front row and knew the answer to all of the questions. Jefferson High had its share of attractive girls, but this one was exceptionally pretty.

After watching her for a few more seconds, Rod turned all the way around and walked backward for a few paces watching the sway of her hips in the short skirt. A mane of light brown hair reached below her shoulders and swung back and forth in a smooth rhythm that matched the graceful way in which she walked. He wondered if she was a gymnast or perhaps on the dance team. He had glimpsed her face for no more than a second, but it reminded him of Caroline‒ whatever her name was‒ the top-seeded tennis player that had taken Wimbledon by storm back in July. When she darted through the door into the chemistry lab, he collided with someone and spun all the way around.

“What are you doing, A-Rod?” Dylan Gaither asked, giving him a wiseass grin that made his face look like a carelessly carved jack-o-lantern. Something had evidently amused Dylan, but he couldn’t imagine what it was. Colliding with someone in the hallway wasn’t funny, or at least not funny enough to get you invited to appear on Saturday Night Live.

“I’m trying to make it to class without bumping into every idiot that can’t see where he’s going.” Rod was unable to keep his irritation from showing despite the fact that Dylan was his best friend.

Dylan poked him in the ribs with his index finger. “Dissing the visually imparted isn’t politically correct, my friend. I saw what you were doing, so don’t try to deny it.”

Rod tried to grab Dylan’s probing finger, but he danced out of his reach. “What did you see me doing?”

“I saw you eyeballing Dani Baby Tomerlin.”

“And . . .”

“That’s dangerous behavior, A-Rod, considering the fact that we have the biggest football game of the season coming up. Your brain is going to turn to mush, and you won’t be able to remember any of the plays.”

“What kind of problem does Dani have that makes her dangerous? Give me a hint. Is it STD, leprosy, or a boyfriend on steroids?”

“Now that you mention it, I think she has leprosy.”

“Come on, Dylan,” Rod said, feeling his irritation rising. “I’m going to be late for the meeting. What’s the big mystery?”

“Remember when we were in the fifth grade, and we’d meet in that shed behind Mrs. Truman’s house and swear on Robert Gumby’s ghost before we exchanged secrets?”

“God, Dylan, will you shut up!” Rod said, looking around at the other students hurrying past them on their way to the last class of the day. He relaxed a little after he decided that no one had heard the exchange. What you did in the fifth grade wasn’t the type of information you put on your college admissions application, and you didn’t want someone shouting about it in the hallway between classes. There had been four of them in their club. Marsha and Ellen had moved away, and he had hoped that Dylan had forgotten all of the other things. Apparently he hadn’t.

“Well, this is the same thing,” Dylan said. “Secrets of this magnitude aren’t supposed to be discussed in a public place. Trust me on this and throttle back on the budding romance before you wind up warming the bench Friday night.”

“Come on Dylan. Cut the comedy routine and answer my question.”

“I have a better suggestion. Think about Molly, Rebecca, or maybe Heather, and leave Dani alone.”

“I saw the new girl up close for the first time, and I want to meet her. She’s pretty enough to take your breath away.”

“You don’t want to meet her,” Dylan said. “Losing Hannah to Buck Daniels has left you mentally impaired.”

Rod stared back at Dylan’s amused expression, but his reaction to the insult seemed to amuse him all the more. “Do you have any idea how disgusting that sounds?”

“Believe me, A-Rod. I have your best interest at heart. You’ll get your chance when we play Greenbrier. You have my permission to smear Buck Daniels like a fat bug on a sidewalk. I just hope you don’t burst your heart looking at Dani Baby’s backside.”

The grin widened, and Rod realized that he hadn’t seen that expression since they were in middle school, and Dylan spread a bucketful of dog poop on the principal’s front porch.

“You’re ticking me off, Dylan. Just wait until football practice this afternoon. I’m going to tear your head off on the first play.”

“I’ve watched over you like a big brother since we were in kindergarten,” Dylan said. “It’s evidently been a waste of my time. I predict a bad end for you despite the flawless example I’ve set before you.”

“Drop the clown act and answer my question,” Rod said, but Dylan was already backing away.

“I’ll explain the whole sordid mess later on,” Dylan said, the wiseass grin still in place.

“I’ll beat it out of you if I have to,” Rod threatened. Dylan’s secrecy was disgusting. All he wanted was the answer to a simple question, but Dylan acted as if he was rehearsing for Comedy Central.

“Save it,” Dylan said. “People in love need every ounce of strength they can muster,” Before Rod could say anything, Dylan rounded the corner and disappeared. He’d get his chance while they were dressing out for football practice. The coach usually didn’t come into the locker room until practice was over. Grabbing Dylan around the neck and scrubbing his knuckles on the top of his head might be the way to teach him a lesson.

Rod looked at his watch. There was barely time to get to the study hall. He tried to remember the purpose of the meeting, but that particular detail eluded him. The only thing he could remember was the announcement on the P.A. system informing everyone that attendance was mandatory. He had intended to skip the meeting, but he found out after lunch that everyone had to sign in. The meetings had been going on all day and this was his last chance to attend. He would barely have time to get to football practice after the meeting was over.

And then he remembered what the principal’s secretary had said on the intercom. It was a meeting about bullying on and off campus. Two kids in California had committed suicide after someone had put a video of them on the Internet. Another incident the previous month involved someone on the girl’s soccer team here at Jefferson High. The staff members evidently had their panties in a wad and were overreacting. He had never found out what the incident with the soccer team member involved. Everything had hit the fan when the editor of the local newspaper became aware of the incident and ran an article in the Sunday edition. The article was sketchy because the editor obviously didn’t know many of the details. None of this applies to me, Rod thought, resenting the fact that he was being required to go to a useless meeting when he had more homework than he could finish before the Friday night football game. He had never bullied anyone and had, in fact, stood up for a couple of special education students when some of the girls on the basketball team made fun of the way they talked. There was no way he could get out of attending the meeting, but maybe it would give him a chance to catch a nap and daydream about the girl he had just seen.

He saw Rebecca coming down the hallway toward him with the rapid pace of a speed walker. “How did the meeting go?” he said as she swept past without looking at him.

“Don’t ask,” she called over her shoulder without breaking stride.

Rebecca was one of those people who liked almost everything. If she hated it that bad, he knew it was going to be awful. He saw someone approaching in the distance and thought for a moment that it was Dani. He had already started forcing his way through the crowd when he realized it wasn’t her.

Maybe she would be in the meeting, but if she were, she would probably be surrounded by a dozen of his teammates.

The only thing he had learned from Dylan was that her name was Dani Tomerlin. At least that was a start. Why had Dylan called her ‘Dani Baby?’ When Johnny Epstein broke his finger playing softball, he had rolled on the ground and cried like a little girl. His team members had called him Johnny Baby and the name had stuck. Dani looked confident enough that she wouldn’t be a pushover for some bully looking for a victim. She was not only confident appearing; she was the most feminine looking creature he had ever seen. When he found out who she hung out with, he’d get them to put in a good word for him. He was desperate to meet her, but he didn’t want to rush things and screw up his chances. There was probably a long line of guys wanting to get a date with her. He had learned that when the center snapped the ball, you didn’t wait for someone else to make their play. You grabbed the ball and ran with it.