Starstruck

Chapter 7b: Seismic shift (part 2)

CHAPTER 7

Seismic shift (part 2)

"Hey, M, thanks for coming," Rigel greeted me when I reached the football stadium after class. "I hope it won't be too boring for you--I think we're mostly going to be doing drills. But you can do homework and stuff if you want."

"I'll be fine." I was about to ask him how he knew about Trina and the glue when the coach blew a whistle and he sprinted off to the field.

With a little shrug, I climbed into the stands and sat down. I'd just add that to my list of things to ask later--along with why he really wanted me here today.

There were a few other girls watching the practice, all sitting together at the other end of the bleachers. I toyed with the idea of joining them, then decided it wasn't worth the risk of rejection. Rigel might have asked me here, but that didn't mean I would instantly be accepted into a group several social rungs above my usual one.

Instead, I pulled a couple of books out of my backpack so I could pretend to be working on something, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything except Rigel.

The players were already warming up, running up and down the field. After a moment I decided it definitely was not my imagination that Rigel moved more smoothly than any of the others. He had a strength and grace about him that seemed almost out of place in a high school sophomore--more like something you'd see in a professional athlete. With a happy sigh, I gave myself up to the pleasure of just watching him.

They finished warming up and started drills involving sprinting and throwing and stuff. The ball became a blur when Rigel threw it. Watching Jaworski and Mullins repeatedly dropping passes, I remembered what I'd heard them saying yesterday morning. The coach said something to Rigel and he nodded. It looked now like he was trying to throw softer, so the other guys could catch the ball. It didn't seem fair that he had to lower his level of play for their benefit, but I guess if it would help us win games . . .

Suddenly I saw half the team's heads whip around, so I looked where they were looking and saw the cheerleading squad, including Trina, sauntering up to the field, dressed in teensy shorts and sports bras. They mostly pretended to ignore the players, though a couple of them waggled their fingers at the guys. Then they started practicing, which mostly meant waving their boobs and butts around for the benefit of the team.

Sheesh, no wonder our school sucked at football! I was surprised the coaches even allowed this, as distracted as most of the guys seemed to be. But not Rigel, I noticed with great satisfaction. Whatever attraction he'd felt toward Trina on the first day of school had apparently evaporated once he'd gotten to know her better. Which proved he was smart as well as gorgeous.

Of course, I already knew that. I'd heard his answers in the classes we shared, though he rarely raised his hand. He seemed to know geometry and geology as well as the teachers did, if not better. English was the only class I felt like I might be able to keep up with him, since I'd always been a big reader. Books were so much easier to relate to than people.

As if to prove my point, just then one of the other girls in the stands called over to me, "Hey, Marsha! What did you have to promise Rigel to get him to sit with you at lunch?"

The others laughed, then one said--or rather, yelled-- "You know what they say, nerds are really easy, if a guy just pays some attention to them."

Now the cheerleaders joined in. Donna shouted up from the field, "I bet five bucks he's tired of her in a week! Any takers?"

I kept my eyes on Rigel, who was across the field, doing my best to ignore them, though I knew my face must be fire engine red.