Chapter 55

Now this is the way to start a week. School first thing Wednesday morning. We should do this more often, get Monday past that blah reputation.

I knew Kenny had come back, but he wasn't at the bus stop, so I didn't have to deal with him. Everyone was pretty subdued about starting school again, everyone but Mikee and Kelly. They were pumped and ready to go. Behind Kelly's back, Mikee pointed at her sister and flashed me a high sign. I guessed that Kelly was becoming more her old self.

The ride to school was pretty quiet except when Robbie got on the bus. "Are you ready to be educated?" she yelled, before sliding into the seat with Tami and me. The responses she got were rude and semi-pornographic.

Tami and I had art third period. Not by choice. It was a required subject. It hadn't been so bad in o-four, but now it sucked. Last year we got a lot of early art history: Rembrandt, Da Vinci, Michelangelo. Plus our own pathetic attempts at drawing and painting. But now Mr. Kincaid was onto abstract art, an art form that he thought was the height of human endeavor, but which, I thought was a waste of paint and canvas. Fifty minutes of listening to why Pablo Picasso was the greatest artist ever definitely fell under the cruel-and-unusual punishment provision of the constitution.

Afterward, Tami and I escaped to the middle school. Thursday was the first meet of the season, and since the girls hadn't practiced, officially at least, for two weeks, Miss Calloway had made arrangements that we could be in the gym all day to supervise anyone who had a free period. Since I got almost all A's and Tami got A's and B's, none of our teachers minded our missing today and tomorrow except Mr. Kincaid.

It was a pretty slow day. The girls showed up in ones and twos and worked on their routines. All of them managed at least one trip to the gym. Most did two of three. Traci showed up four times.

Thursday was a lot like Wednesday, except that after art we caught a ride to the middle school with Mr. Mulino, who had a meeting, instead of walking.

Our first meet was at Stoner Middle School, about seventy miles away, so the bus loaded a little before three. The girls were all excited. They all looked good in their practices, and I had visions of a state championship. Kelly had looked especially good. She still worked her routines hard, but now she wasn't trying to murder them.

Tami and I sat together and talked the first hour on the bus. She actually liked some of the art that Mr. Kincaid had showed us today. I'm sorry, but a square girl with three breasts isn't art, she's a circus freak. And I never liked the freak show. We also talked about college. I was thinking Stanford. She was thinking Harvard.

"You going to go talk to her?" Tami asked in an unexpected change of direction.

"Who?"

"Your sister."

I looked behind us. Traci was sitting by herself, staring out the window a few seats away from the rest of the team.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, and Tami gave me a look that told me I'd just asked a stupid question. But if it was a stupid question, shouldn't I know the answer?

"She's nervous. Haven't you ever been nervous before a game?"

I shrugged.

Tami sighed. "Go," she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

I shrugged again, but got up and walked back to Traci. I sat down in the seat in front of her and hung over the back of the seat. "Hey brat. Why so quiet?"

She looked at me, then back out the window. "Just thinking about the meet."

"Everyone's worked real hard. You realize that if we lose today, it's all your fault."

"It is?"

Okay, wrong approach. "Trace, do you know how we get scored?"

"Sure," she said, looking at me again. It was the same stupid question look Tami had given me. "The judges score us up to ten points for difficulty and grace and mistakes and things."

"No, I mean the team."

Traci shook her head.

"Each school can put up to six girls on each event. They add the top five scores, then they add all the events together.

Traci shrugged. "So?"

"So, how many girls are supposed to compete on beam today?"

"Five. Kelly, Rachel, Stephy, Maria and me."

"How many on bars?"

Traci gave me another stupid-question-look. "Five. Kelly, Stephy, Susie, Miranda, and me."

"So what happens if you totally screw up and get a two on bars and beam?"

"We lose."

"No, we have four points more than if you weren't here."

Traci thought about it.

"So as your coach, I have a goal for you. I want you to try and get at least two points on bars and two points on beam."

"That's easy."

"If you think it's so easy, do better. But that's your official goal."

I started to get up.

"Tony."

I looked back at her. She was almost smiling.

"You're not the worst brother."

I thought about Kenny. "Second worst, maybe."

The meet was incredible. All perfect tens. We scored two hundred out of a possible two hundred and the TV people said we'd be on ESPN. It was...

It was not that good.

Stoner scored one hundred and fifty-three point two. And beat us by over twenty points. I thought our girls were good, but they were just better. They did harder tricks and did them better. And they had six girls on each event, which gave them a cushion.

There were two high points. Kelly scored a thirty-three all together and won the all-around, beating Stoner's two all-arounds by more than two points. And Traci got a six on beam and a four point three on bars. Not bad for a girl whose been in gymnastics two months.