Chapter 45: Being Exposed

Becky and I had lunch together as usual; only on this day we were the only ones sitting at the table, being abandoned by admirers who looked upon me with adoring eyes in recent days. I told Becky about the meeting with Coach Nelson and my apology to Buzz. She sympathized with me, saying she knew it had been hard for me to admit that I was wrong. She didn't know how wrong I was and I had only discovered it by accident.

Something she had said the night before, that I was not taking her to Megan's party, that she was taking me, made me think that I had judged Buzz unfairly. Becky was the invited guest because she was a member of the cast. Buzz's motive may not have been as I thought, dating Becky to humiliate me. I may have been mistaken about him. What if he saw Becky's invitation to the party as an opportunity for him to gain access to the thespian crowd? Some of the actresses were the beauties at the school. Also, Megan's party would be one of the premier events of the season? Had I gotten myself stirred up for nothing? No, I decided. Becky was just too cute to pass up. He must have seen her with me and decided that I was not worthy of her attention, I thought. Still, I had not acted rationally. Perhaps I owed him a sincere apology?

"Do you still have to go through with the study date with Gina?" She asked.

"I don't know. I'll find out for sure at Biology class," I said. "Do you want to study together if she calls it off?"

Becky brightened. Her eyes sparkled. "Where can we study?" She asked.

I looked around at the cafeteria crowd. Most were busy talking but I caught a few kids eyeing us, their angry eyes a sea of rage. News had spread fast about what I had done to the star quarterback, stories ranged from me hitting him before he even had his hands on the ball to me grinding his face in the mud after he was down on the ground. Kids who had emulated me, stood up in class when called upon, addressed the teachers as Sir and Ma'am and even had their hair cut short were looking at me with fire in their eyes, clearly hating everything I stood for.

Becky was my only friend. She was standing by me, willing to undergo the same harassment that I was enduring, even accepting my indenture to Gina. "Where can we study if she tells you not to come tonight?" She repeated her question.

"Becky, I'll pick you up on my way home from football practice. I'll have to eat when I get home but we can study in my kitchen," I said, having decided that if Gina insisted I come to her house I would tell her to go to hell.

"Do you mean it?" Becky asked. Just seeing the way she was looking at me was worth whatever punishment Gina had in store for me. We walked along the hallway to our next class hand in hand, ignoring the stares of my detractors.

Cold shoulders were the order of the day, including Gina who wouldn't even look at me before Biology class. Football practice was worse. None of my teammates spoke to me or wanted to be near me, and Coach Nelson never called my number to sub for one of the regular linebackers. I tried to say something to Buzz after practice. I wanted to tell him that I had decided I was wrong about his motive to take Becky to Megan's party but my attempt was met with rebuff. "Shit man, I wouldn't be caught dead at a party with a bunch of actors. I was going to take her to a real party," he said, making sure his friends heard him say 'real party'

Like Gina had done, Becky gave my house a once-over look but unlike Gina, Becky didn't turn up her nose as if to wonder how three people could live in such a small space. We didn't get much studying done that night. As soon as we finished our algebra homework we started talking, me telling her about an extra-credit Civics paper I was planning to write and her telling me about an English assignment that concerned her. The conversation turned to books we had read and which authors we liked. Becky told me the plot of the play she was in and I told her I would come to both performances. We closed our books at nine-thirty, just as the telephone started to ring.

Greg called to say he would go to Mr. Avella's party. He first asked if I was going to dress for the game. I told him that I had managed to convince the coach that he couldn't get along without me. "Do you still want me to take Becky? It may not be pleasant company for her but I'm looking forward to hearing what the business community has to say about you."

"Hold on Greg. I'll see what she wants to do," I said before looking at Becky. "Greg's going to take you to the football game. He wants to know if you will go to Mr. Avella's party. I'll be there but he's not sure you'll want to hear what they have to say about me." She nodded to me.

"She wants to go," I said to Greg.

"How are you holding up?" He asked. I reminded him that I had undergone worse treatment at the military school. Actually, that was an exaggeration. There had been short periods when I had felt like an outcast but it had only been my roommates who had been most critical of my actions, not the entire school. But I had been a year younger and it seemed worse at the time.

We were ready to leave when the phone rang again. Becky started for the door but I pulled her back, making her giggle and take a seat.

"What's the word on Dustin?" Mr. Avella wanted to know.

"He's looking forward to coming to your party, Sir," I said, watching Becky's reaction when it became clear to her who was calling. She rolled her eyes to show indifference but I was sure she was curious.

"It's going to be chilly on Sunday. We may have to curtail our golf until spring," Mr. Avella said.

"Yes Sir," I agreed with him.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sammy?" It was more of an accusation that a question.

"I lost my head, Sir," I said, winking at Becky.

"No telling what the weather will do from now on. I'll drop your clubs off on Saturday morning," he said before ending the call. I offered to pick up my clubs on Friday night but he insisted on delivering them to my house.

"It may be better all around if you don't come to the house after the game. Tell Dustin to come alone," he ordered.

"Yes Sir," I said.

We compared the two telephone calls I had received on the walk over to Becky's house. Greg was sticking by me, interested in how I was holding up while Mr. Avella was abandoning me. "You're lucky to have a friend like Greg," she said.

"I'm lucky to have you as a friend," I said, wanting desperately for her to believe me.

There was one more message when I arrived home that night. "She was there, wasn't she? She's the reason you stood me up," Gina barked at me when I returned her call.

"You ignored me in class today. I didn't know you wanted me to come tonight," I said, trying not to sound defensive.

"I'm going to make you pay," she said as she hung up on me, before I could tell her I had a tape that I wanted her to listen to.

I called Becky to warn her that Gina was going to make my life difficult. "Does that mean you're rid of her?" She asked.

"Yes, I guess it does. I hadn't thought of it that way. Talking to you has made me feel better about it," I said. Becky just laughed. "See you tomorrow," she said.

I wondered what Gina was talking about when she said she would make me pay. She hadn't been specific. Was she angry because I had stood her up, because I had almost every kid at school mad at me for putting a hit on their quarterback or because I had disappointed her father? Or, was she still trying to comprehend what I meant when I asked if Aaron really sucked his own cum out of her pussy? I was not to find out until the following night.

Thursday passed without serious incident. There were angry stares but what I anticipated, to be called apple-corer boy at any moment, didn't happen. I went through the day, classes, lunch with Becky, football practice, study and walking Becky home after her play practice, all the time waiting for Gina to strike. Until Priscilla called at the end of the day I wondered if Gina had lost her nerve.

"I'm sorry Sammy, I had to do it," Priscilla said, her voice shrinking with each word.

"What did you do?"

"I gave Aaron the tape," she said. "Did Gina retaliate?"

"No, she hasn't yet. When did you give it to him?"

"I gave it to him yesterday. I'm so sorry, Sammy. He was becoming demanding. He said he was going to tell our boss. I had to do something. You should have seen him today, Sammy. He was meek and apologetic. We got him good, Sammy. Can you come over?"

"Gee Priscilla. I don't dare. I'm in enough trouble with the football coaches," I said. I was already putting two and two together. Aaron listened to the tape on Wednesday night and told Gina about it. She got cold feet and that's why she hadn't spread the word that I was the apple-corer boy. "I could kiss you, Priscilla. Thank you!"

"It was your idea to make the tape. I could kiss you too. Are you sure you can't come over?"

It was tempting but I told her no.

Everything changed on Friday morning. During second period one of my former admirers broke the silence when we were the only two students in our English class. "You made the headlines, Kovel," he whispered.

"He's talking about the bulletin board posting," Miss McGovern, our English teacher informed me. By the end of the third period when the newspaper article was removed from the bulletin board every kid in the school had read it, except me. Becky told me about it at lunch. By that time the stares of hatred had changed to quick glances filled with pity.

"Apple-corer boy was highlighted and 'Sammy Kovel' was written in the margin," Becky told me a lunch.

"I haven't seen that one," I mused. Daniel Olsen told me that one of the newspaper articles referred to me as the 'Apple-corer boy, ' but it was one of the ones he couldn't find. I was still getting curious stares from other sophomores but none of them ventured near enough to inquire if I was really the subject of the article.

To add to my notoriety, many of the students had copies of the school newspaper, which was the first issue that school year. Becky read to me from Greg Dustin's article.

"Listen to him talk for five minutes and Sammy Kovel will take you through a variety of subjects ranging from the unique cadence of Kipling to the intricacies of computer science. During two meetings with the subject, this writer was entertained with poetry and educated with five ways to make a first down on third and eight. Sammy Kovel describes himself as a hard-nosed football player with an appreciation for orchids. He credits the military academy where he attended his freshman year with what he calls his military bearing."

"Stop," I said, holding my hands over my ears, too embarrassed to listen to any more of the article. Becky wouldn't take mercy on me.

"It says here that once you're wound up it takes hours for you to run down. Is it true that you recited, 'The Sick Child, ' while the writer was making out with his girlfriend on a dark night?"

"He didn't write that," I said, trying to take the newspaper away from her.

"I made that up but you did it. He was too busy to hear you or it would be in the article," she said, laughing at me. Others were reading the article and glancing at us.

Getting through my last two classes of the day was pure agony. Teachers and students were grabbing side long glances at me, like I was a caged animal on display. I tried my best to be invisible, taking notice that Gina was absent from biology class.

Since I had a few hours free before the game I hung around school waiting for Becky to get out of class. Greg Dustin was doing the same, waiting for Trisha.

"You make it a habit of blind-siding, don't you?" He said when he spotted me, his accusation catching me off guard.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, dumbfounded by his expression, which was not pleasant.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were the apple-corer boy, not the all-American boy as I portrayed you?"

Greg was really mad. His usual calm exterior was interrupted with a complex mixture of wrinkles and veins. I didn't know what to make of him. I considered a variety of answers I could give him and settled on one.

"You were interviewing me. I didn't know I was supposed to supply you with more information than you asked. From what I heard of the article, you inserted your own observations rather than what I told you anyway."

"You mean the part about winding you up?"

"Yeah," that's one of the things I heard.

"Why didn't you tell me, Sammy?" He was not exactly calm but the blue vein had disappeared.

"I didn't think it would ever come out. Gina said she was going to expose me but I thought she would spread the word, not put that article on the bulletin board for everyone to read."

"Damn it, Sammy. Had I known you were the apple-corer boy I could have used it in my article. Her posting the article on the bulletin board made mine loose its zip."

"Is that the reason you're pissed? Not because I'm the apple-corer boy?"

"I'm not pissed at you, Sammy. I'm pissed at myself for not asking the right questions. I guess I'm pissed because I didn't break the story."

I told him why Gina had posted the article on the bulletin board, well, the part about her having sex with an older guy and it being recorded on tape. "It should never have gone this far. I never intended for her to hear the tape but the older guy must have played it for her because the article was her way of retaliating. Now I have to decide if I want to retaliate," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Give a copy of the tape to her father," I said, smugly.

When Greg learned that I had been uninvited to Mr. Avella's post-game party he decided he would decline his invitation. We made plans to meet after the game. "We'll find something to do," he promised.

Becky and I walked to my house, me telling her how angry Greg was that he was not the one to break the 'apple-corer boy, ' story. I shared my evening meal with her because I didn't want to eat too much before the game. We planned on having something to eat after the game.