Before The Boys Say No Part 8

I slipped the plate on my tray and headed out to the floor. Marge had come in with a group of ladies. Her loud mouth carried throughout the restaurant. Dad was at the table, talking and laughing with the group. I waved when she saw me.

"Beatty, come join us, darling," she yelled to me.

"I'm working, Marge," I yelled back.

"How'd your debate go yesterday?"

"I won," I said nonchalantly.

She smiled at me. "I knew you would, honey."

She turned her attention back to the ladies at her table and I dropped off the plate of spaghetti at table three. An older man and woman sat at the table. They were both dressed in suits and seemed stiff in the fun atmosphere.

"You debate?" the man asked me quietly.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," I said politely and was about to walk away, but he stopped me. Oh, great, I thought. He was going to be a talker, and frankly, I didn't feel like engaging in a conversation today.

"I did debate in high school and college. Now, I'm a lawyer."

"Really? I think I want to pursue law, too," I told him.

"He was amazing at debate in school," his wife said sweetly. "That's how I met him."

The man chuckled. "I pretty much won everything," he said. "I was quite prideful in those days. Winning does that, you know. Make you prideful. People don't want to be around pride."

"Yeah, but if you're good, you should be proud," I said. I felt a knot of conviction in my stomach.

"Oh, I agree," he replied. "But if the pride becomes self-serving where you treat people less than you, then it's inappropriate. I'm sure you don't have that problem though."

"Did someone send you in here to talk to me?" I asked suspiciously. I had good instincts about people.

A look of surprise crossed his face. "Why, no. Why would you ask that?"

"I'm not stupid, mister," I replied bluntly. "Everyone on the debate squad has it in for my t.i.tle. Why don't you go back to whoever sent you in here and tell them that I have reason to be proud? I work harder than anyone else--that's why I win. Why don't you ask them why they're so jealous? Maybe that's the problem that needs to be resolved."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked off. They started whispering as soon as I left. I just knew they had been planted in the restaurant to make me change my strategy. I looked back to see my father talking with them at the table. Great. He would think I was overreacting. Sure enough, it wasn't long before my father approached me in the kitchen.

"Bea, how many time do I have to talk to you about your rudeness?"

"You don't understand, Dad. Those people were sent in to try to get me to change my debate technique--"

"Do you hear how paranoid that sounds, Bea? Not everything revolves around your debate."

"It does to me," I said pa.s.sionately. "Debate is everything to me right now, Dad."

He sighed and reached out to touch my cheek tenderly. "Debate this, debate that. I should have known your big mouth would lead you down that path. You were always arguing with me, even when you were just barely able to talk."

"That's because you were trying to feed me lima beans and wouldn't listen to how much I hated them."

He chuckled. "What am I going to do with you, Bea?"

"How about support me, Daddy? Believe me when I tell you things."

His big arms wrapped around me and I snuggled my head into his shoulder. I was never too old to enjoy a hug from my dad.

"You want me to kick that man and his wife out of my restaurant?" he asked with a gangster lisp.

I had to laugh. Dad always made me feel good--at least, when he wasn't trying to get me married off. "No, it's all good. I'll try to be better, Daddy, I promise."

"That's my girl," he said.

I watched to see when the man and woman left. Something was weird about them. I know, I know. I'm paranoid about some things--like boys, for instance. But I had a hunch about the man and woman. I crept out the back door and around to the side of the restaurant. The man was on the phone with someone.

"Sorry, Bill, I tried," he was saying. "She caught onto me. Somehow, she knew."

I couldn't hear anything else when he climbed into the car. I just knew he was talking about me. Who was Bill? One thing was for sure. Debate was getting very interesting this year.

CHAPTER 7.

I can't stand Mondays after a debate tournament. The princ.i.p.al always gets on the loud speaker and announces who has won. If I happen to be in a cla.s.s where other kids know me, they always say stupid stuff, like call me a brainiac or Einstein. After too many of those announcements, the kids start looking at me like I'm an alien.

This year was no different. I had just settled into the back of English cla.s.s. As always, I was one of the first to arrive. I don't think Brody was even aware that he was in the cla.s.s with me. He always arrived late with his friends and was forced to take the empty desks at the front.

Ms. McEnroy was writing on the white board when the loud speaker went off. The princ.i.p.al's voice came on, congratulating the debate team on it's superior performance at the debate tournament. When my name was called as the winner of the tournament, Brody jumped to his feet, clapping loudly.

"That's my girl," he shouted.

His friends looked at him like he had lost his mind. I slunk down into my seat. I was so quiet in the cla.s.s that no one knew who I was. Ms. McEnroy frowned at Brody.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm," she said, "but sit down."

Brody sat back down. I couldn't believe he had done that. For me, of all people. He endured a few jokes from the guys around him, but he seemed to take it in stride.

I waited until everyone had filed out of the cla.s.sroom before I left. Ms. McEnroy caught my eye as I tried to slip past her desk.

"Congratulations, Beatrice," she said warmly. "Looks like you have a cheering section."

I gave her a short laugh and mumbled, "Thank you."

Outside, I got a few "congratulations" from some kids I knew. I wondered how Jared was doing with his Aggie friends. I would find out soon enough in debate cla.s.s.

I waved to Johanna when we met in the hall between cla.s.ses. She grabbed my arm to stop me. "I feel like we don't see each other any more," she complained.

"We don't," I said bluntly. "You dropped me for your new friends."

Her face fell. "Sorry about that, Bea," she said in a soft voice. "I was so caught up with Dale that I--"

Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes. A couple of kids jeered as they went by. I grabbed Johanna's arm and pulled her to the side of a vending machine--those evil machines filled with junk food tempting my tastebuds.

"What's going on?" I asked her. I was in a hurry to get to debate cla.s.s, but I could tell she was upset.

"Dale just dumped me. He's taking Missy to Homecoming now."

I patted her shoulder as she fought to keep the tears from falling. Her nose started running and she wiped it on the edge of her yellow sweater.

"You won't have a problem getting a date for Homecoming," I encouraged her. "You're so pretty and smart. Dale Jerry is just an idiot to dump you."

She smiled through her tears. "Thanks, Bea."

"I gotta get to debate, but do you want to meet for lunch?" I asked her.

She nodded. I gave her arm a squeeze and made a dash to the debate room. My b.o.o.bs were shaking up and down. I raised my notebook over my chest so no one could see. I was out of breath when I reached the door. I paused just outside so I could catch my breath before entering. I could hear Leslie's voice inside.

"She's such a drill sergeant. Isn't it hard for you to be on her team?"

"Are you kidding?" Jared's voice answered. "It's easy being on her team. I just do what she tells me."

They were trying to turn Jared against me. I flung open the door and surprised all of them. I couldn't believe Mr. Robarb was listening to all that smack without defending me. Everyone grew quiet as I entered the room. They could tell I had heard them talking.

"What's going on?" I asked in a loud voice, planting my hands on my hips.

"Calm down, Beatrice," Mr. Robarb said.

"How do you expect me to act, Mr. Robarb, with my partner being interrogated?"

"Oh, please," Leslie said with a roll of her eyes. "Why are you always so dramatic, Beatrice? We were just talking."

I looked at Jared with accusing eyes. Was he turning on me too? His eyes were wide and he swallowed, making his adam's apple bob up and down in his throat.

"Jared, do you have any second thoughts about being my partner?" I asked him.

"Nope," he said. "I gave my word and I'm seeing it through."

I nodded. I cast a look at the others. After four years of being on the team, I couldn't call any of them friend. Maybe that man at the restaurant was right. Maybe my pride was getting in my way of making friends. Then, again, who was I kidding? I didn't like anyone on the debate team. They were the biggest babies and fakes I had ever met. They talked behind each other's backs all the time; why would I think they wouldn't talk about me when I wasn't around?

I tossed my backpack on a desk and sat down. Jared came over and took the seat in front of me. I had to admit, I appreciated his show of loyalty to me. We didn't say a word to each other throughout cla.s.s period, even when Mr. Robarb congratulated us on winning the tournament.

I was the first to leave cla.s.s when the bell rang. I was hoping to miss seeing Brody across the courtyard. He always waved to me when I came out of cla.s.s and I felt uncomfortable with the looks from all the kids around us. Unfortunately, my backpack fell to the ground. And it wasn't zipped, so of course any loose papers went flying on the ground.

I had almost scooped them all up when I heard Brody call my name. At first, I pretended not to hear as I lingered over the last couple of loose papers on the ground. He persisted in calling my name even louder. I had to acknowledge him.

I raised up to give him my usual wave and was horrified to see him coming straight toward me. I looked around to see if there was an excuse I could use to dart off. There wasn't. So I had to endure the curious looks, especially from his friends, when he reached me.

He threw his arms around me and gave me a hug. "You didn't tell me you won your debate tournament," he laughed.

I pulled back from him and self-consciously tucked my hair behind my ear. "Oh, you know, it was really busy at the restaurant."

He c.o.c.ked his head to one side and looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. His eyes grew serious. "Are you dating that guy that came in yesterday?"

The question threw me. It was the last thing I would have expected to come out of his mouth. "Tony? No. I just met him at the debate tournament. I was really surprised he came by my work."

"I'm not," he said softly. "I told you that you're pretty."

Yes, the heavens opened and a chorus burst forth from the bright lights as everything inside me wanted to scream. I know my mouth hung open from his comment.

"Brody? What are you doing?"

Lanie's voice yelling across the courtyard brought me crashing back to reality. The bright lights and chorus were just a figment of my imagination. I thought I saw Brody almost roll his eyes. He muttered something under his breath and flashed me a smile.

"Gotta go, Bea. When are we working together again?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, you're hardly at the restaurant now."

He grimaced. "I know. I miss it."

"Brody!" Lanie was now striding toward us.

"You better go," I said hurriedly.

I took off in the opposite direction as Brody turned to face a not so happy Lanie. I kind of felt sorry for him. Lanie always expected her boyfriends to be at her beck and call.

I looked for Johanna at our lunch table and was half surprised to see her there. I'd eaten alone for the past couple of weeks and had kind of gotten used to it. I slid onto a chair and unwrapped a sandwich I'd brought. Johanna's salad was untouched in front of her.

"You not hungry?" I asked as I sank my teeth into the bread.

"Not really," she said, her eyes fixed on Dale Jerry's table.

Dale was flirting with Missy. He kept casting looks over at Johanna, though, to see if she was watching. The weasel was trying to make her jealous.

"You know what, Johanna? The more you look at him, the more you seem desperate. Who wants to date a desperate girl? No one. Trust me, I know from experience."

Johanna looked at me and suddenly started giggling. "You are so funny, Bea."

"Funny looking, you mean."

"You aren't funny looking."

"Then tell me why I can't get a date."

"You already know why. You scare them off--"

"With my big fat mouth," I finished her sentence.