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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game II: Playing to Win, Ch. 18 (mf rom)
Date: Sun,  1 Dec 2002 11:10:04 -0500
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I hope all my American readers had a great Thanksgiving, and you're kicking 
back, ready for the next installment.

Enjoy.






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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is
the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded
for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to
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(Copyright 2002, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 18 -

MY HOMECOMING DATE



Mrs. O'Toole called in for Molly on Tuesday, too.  Josh told me that
Molly was feeling better, but she didn't want to come to school
limping so badly, so she wanted to wait until Wednesday.  I had the
feeling that she also didn't want to face Joey or Jilly, either, and
I couldn't blame her.  All the Bulls were walking around the school
hallways like puffed-up peacocks, telling tall tales of glory and
conquest to any fool that would listen.

Josh also said that he wanted us to meet again at his house, after
dinner.  He was hoping that Molly would talk to all of us about what
she wanted to do.

Jake and I got over to Josh's house around 7:00.  Tessa and Austin
were already there, and Andrea pulled up and parked behind Jake's
car, just as we were knocking on the front door.

Josh and Molly were sitting in the family room together.  They had a
fire going in the fireplace, and it warmed and cheered the room, a
nice change from the rainy, cold evening.  Molly was wearing a heavy
sweatshirt and baggy cotton pants, almost like pajama bottoms.  She
kept her arms crossed, hugging herself, as if she was cold.  Fuzzy
slippers with bunny faces were on her feet.

Mrs. O'Toole came in and offered sodas and chips, and then
discreetly left us to work on how we were going to get Molly back to
school safely.

Andrea came in, after hanging up her jacket, and walked over to the
couch, where Molly was sitting, and put her arms around her, hugging
her.  I could see Molly tense up a little at the touch, but then she
relaxed, and gave Andrea a weak hug in return.

"How are you feeling, Moll?" I asked.  Her right eye was a rainbow
of colors, red and blue and black and purple, but there was not much
swelling.  She gave me a small, sad smile, a smile that only barely
touched her eyes, but she only gave me a slight shrug in reply.

We all settled down on the floor, loosely surrounding Molly and Josh
on the couch.

Josh began the discussion.  "We need to set up a schedule among us,
so that Molly will be accompanied by a friend all day at school, from
class to class."  He glanced at a pad of paper in his hand.  "Molly
and I have listed the classes that she has with all of you guys, and
I think this can work.  I'll bring her to school with me, and I can
be with her to her first class.  Tessa, if you could meet her after
her first period class, you can walk with her to second period, since
you're in the same class.  Then, Sean can pick her up and take her to
math.  Okay?  After math, Tessa will meet her again, and I will take
over from her.  Andrea and I will stay with her during lunch, and
then Andrea will walk her to the next class.  Jake, can you meet them
then?"

And so it went, until we had Molly accompanied for the whole day.
All during the discussion, Molly just sat there, silent and looking
inward, paying us little mind.

"Okay," continued Josh, "that will work for the whole day.  Andi and
Tessa will come home with her, and that will be that."  He handed out
tentative schedules for each of us.

"This weekend will be harder, because of Homecoming, but if we need
to add people to help out, I'm sure we can find some."

"Molly?"  Tessa touched her friend on the knee to get her attention.
"Are you going back to cheerleading practice at all this week?"

Molly shook her head slowly.  "I... I don't know," she whispered.
"Do you think I should?"

"Yes, I do," said Tessa emphatically.  "I'll stay there with you,
and get you home afterwards."

"And I can be there, too," said Andrea.  "I think you should, too,
Moll.  The activity will do you some good."

"Okay," said Molly quietly.  "If you think I should..."

"There will be a lot of kids and adults around for the parade and
the game on Saturday," said Josh, "but I'm kind of worried about
after the game.  Jake and I are on the team, so we can't be with her."

"That's okay," said Andrea.  "Tessa and I," and she looked over to
see Tessa's nod of confirmation, even before she finished her own
thought, "we'll be there, right by her side.  Okay, Moll?"

Molly looked at her and nodded, even though she looked a little
scared, just thinking about it.

"And we'll bring you straight back home," finished Tessa.

"But right after that, we might have a problem," said Andrea.
"We've got appointments to get our hair done for the Homecoming
Dance.  Josh, will your parents be home then?"

"Hey," I said, "why don't you see if you can get an appointment for
Molly at your salon?"

Molly glanced over at me, and then looked down again.  "But I'm not
going..."

"You aren't going to want to spend Homecoming Saturday stuck at home
with your parents, Molly, are you?" I asked.  "You'd probably feel
safer at the dance, with lots of kids around you, than you would by
yourself here.  Besides, I don't have a date, either, so we can go
together."

That earned me another glance, this one with some pain in it.

"That's not a bad idea, Porter," said Josh.  "What do you think,
Molly?"

She took a big breath, and, keeping her head down, said, "If you
think so, Josh, I guess it's okay with me."

And, just like that, I found myself with a last-minute date for
Homecoming.





On Wednesday, we carried out our plan.  Josh walked Molly into
school, and right to her first class.  The rest of us were there,
also, for moral support, and she looked like she needed it.  She was
very nervous, and kept glancing around anxiously, perhaps checking
faces in the crowd for Jilly or Joey or any of the other Bulls.  As
we got to the door of her first-period class, she turned, and with
tears glistening in her eyes, thanked us all.

"I don't deserve to have you guys as friends," she said, her soft
voice wavering.  She turned to Josh.  "And I don't deserve to have a
brother like you, Josh.  I love you."  She looked back at Tessa,
Austin, Andrea, Jake, and me.  "I love you all so much."  With that,
she turned and she walked to her desk in the classroom.

Tessa followed her into the room, knelt down next to Molly, and said
quietly, "After class, you can just wait right here.  I'll come for
you as soon as I can.  Okay?"

Molly nodded.

Surprisingly, the day progressed pretty much as Josh had planned.  I
met Tessa and Molly after second period in the hall, and Molly and I
walked to our math class together.  Looking at us, you would have
probably thought we were just another couple of high-school kids, but
a closer examination would have revealed two flawed, wounded people,
leaning on each other for support and comfort.

By the end of the day, everybody in school knew what we were doing,
and rumors of how Molly got her black eye were running rampant
through the hallways.  Nobody confirmed or denied anything anybody
told us, or asked of us.  Our story was that Molly needed a little
assistance, because she was recovering from an illness, and that was
all we had to say about it.  Even though we heard some pretty
outlandish rumors that day, all the stories and all the attention
paid to Molly and her escorts kept Jilly and the rest of his gang
away from her, all day long.





The next afternoon after lunch, I was walking through the crowded
halls to a class, when I saw Joey Amonte, Vinnie Arilio, and Harold
Barnes swaggering toward me.  Unfortunately, they saw me, too, and
Joey grabbed me and shoved me back against a bank of lockers.  His
forearm was tight against my neck, lifting me up onto my toes.  I
could feel a combination lock digging into my lower back.

"Hello, Porter," Joey said quietly.  He was leaning close to me, and
his nauseating halitosis washed over me like a breaking wave of onion
and garlic water.

"Let me go, asshole," I gritted.

"Asshole?"  He turned to Harold, leaning insolently against the
lockers to my right, blocking the view from casual eyes.  Vinnie took
up a similar position on my left, effectively boxing me in.  Joey
leaned his arm in a little harder, against my throat.  "You ain't in
no position to be tossing out ugly names, Porter."

He had a point there, but I was having a little trouble breathing,
so I couldn't answer him.

"What are you and your pussy friends doing with my girlfriend,
Porter?" he asked.  He loosened his grip just a little, enough for me
to take a ragged breath so I could explain our actions to him.

"What girlfriend?" I said, perhaps unwisely.  "I thought Del Toro
took her away from you."

He popped me back up hard, against the lockers.  His face turned a
mottled red.  Through gritted teeth, he snarled, "You thought wrong,
pussy boy."

"Okay, okay," I croaked.  The lock was starting to scrape the skin
away on my back.

He loosened up again.  I thought maybe he liked having the
opportunity to jack me back up against the wall.

"So?  What the fuck do you think you're doing?  Protecting her?"

On either side of me, I heard both Harold and Vinnie chuckling.
Vinnie gave me a vicious poke in the ribs.

"No, man," I managed, "we're just friends, walking down the hall."

He threw me back up against the lockers, getting some lift with his
legs this time.  I thought my feet were dangling off the floor, and I
knew I was having trouble breathing.

"Wrong answer, pussy boy," he growled.  "Let's try again,
motherfucker."  He let me down again, but kept too much pressure on
my throat.  I couldn't talk.

A voice from behind Joey startled us all.  "Mr. Amonte?"

Joey whirled around, careful to keep a firm hold on me, pressing me
back with his arm.  Standing there was Coach Neville, his glasses
lowered until they were propped on the tip of his nose, and he was
staring at us over the frames.  He wasn't a very big or imposing man,
being a little soft around the middle, but his arms were muscled.
This was particularly evident as he lightly tapped the baseball bat
he was holding in his hand.

"I would suggest that, perhaps, you would like to let Mr. Porter
go," he said, almost nonchalantly.

Reluctantly, Joey let his arm drop.  I sagged back, grateful to be
free of his grasp.  I rubbed my throat, trying to get some feeling
back into the area.

"Aren't you supposed to be going to class?" asked Mr. Neville,
looking at Vinnie and Harold in turn.

"Yes, sir," mumbled Harold, as he turned to walk down the hall.

"Yes, Mr. Neville," said Vinnie.  With a sour look, he turned and
followed after Harold.  Joey took a step toward his friends, but
Coach pointed the bat at him, just touching his chest with the end.
Joey acted as it he had been hit with it, falling back against the
lockers.  Coach pushed against him with the bat a little harder, and
Joey's elbows hit the lockers, making them rattle and clang.

"Where are you going, Mr. Amonte?" he asked quietly.

"I... uh, I was just gonna go to class..." mumbled Joey.

"And what class is that?" asked Coach.

"Um, wood shop," replied Joey.

"Fine," said Mr. Neville, dropping the bat suddenly.  Joey slid
sideways along the lockers, away from Coach and I, watching us
watching him.  Just as he thought he would make it away clean, he
turned to walk away, adjusting his collar.

"Mr. Amonte," called out Coach.  Joey stopped dead in his tracks.
He turned back around with a worried expression.  "I expect to see
you in my office exactly two minutes after the final bell today,"
said Coach.

"Yes, sir," said Joey unhappily.  He waited a moment, perhaps to see
if Mr. Neville had any more to add, and then he turned and stalked
away.

"Thanks, Coach," I said, once Joey had gone.

He just grunted, already thinking of something else.  I headed down
the hall toward my class.

"Mr. Porter?" he called.

I turned.  "Yes, Coach?"

He walked up to me, a concerned expression on his face.  "For
whatever reason you have gotten involved with Mr. Amonte and his ilk,
I would strongly suggest that you sever those ties," he said.

"I wish I could," I said, "but I don't think it's quite that
simple."  If he only knew how complicated it was, I thought to
myself.  Maybe, if he knew, he would have just let Joey beat on me
for a little while.  I wouldn't have blamed him if he had.

When I told Josh about Joey and his buddies bracing me, he was very
concerned.

"We're going to have to double-up on Molly's escorts," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed.  "Maybe we should.  But then again, they didn't
make a run at her."

"That's true, but I think it was just opportunity that made them box
you in.  Now that they did it, even though they weren't real
successful, they might be thinking that they could do it better if
they planned it out."

"Those guys couldn't plan out a picnic in the park," I said.

Josh just looked at me for a moment.  "Like they couldn't plan out
destroying the float last week?" he asked pointedly.

"Yeah, you're right," I agreed, abashed.  "Let's recruit some help."

Between the six of us, we gathered up another eight kids to help.
Josh recruited a couple of friends from the football team, including
Tiny, and I got Eric and Trent to help us out.  Molly always had two
friends escorting her, and everybody else tried to double-up and walk
the halls with friends, too.  Tessa and Andrea, in particular, made
sure they were accompanied everywhere.  The plan seemed to work, as
nobody else was confronted all week.




On Saturday, Josh, Jake, Tiny, and the others from the football team
had to leave early to get ready for the game, so the rest of us all
drove over together later.  We walked into the stadium together, and
Tessa and Andrea walked with Molly onto the infield, so she could
join her fellow cheerleaders.  I didn't see any sign of the Bulls
anywhere, but we kept a sharp lookout all through the game, anyway.

We won the game by a field goal, and everybody started streaming out
of the stands.  Eric and Trent, along with Keisha and Danielle, took
the point for us, watching out for any sign of the Bulls.  Austin,
Tessa and I waited for Molly, and we piled into Tessa's car for the
ride back to Molly's house.  Austin had left his car there, and he
dropped me off at home.  I had a few hours to kill before I was to
meet Josh and Molly, back at their house, for our double-date to the
dance, so I washed and waxed my mom's car, in exchange for being able
to drive it to the dance.

I took a shower, scraped off my peach fuzz, got dressed up in my
suit, and drove over to pick up Josh and Molly.  We were going to
pick up Josh's girlfriend on the way to the dance.  I hopped out of
my car, and ran up the front walk and rang the doorbell.

Mrs. O'Toole opened the door for me.  "Come in, Sean," she said in
greeting.  "Josh and Molly will be down in a moment."  She gestured
me in, toward the family room.  "Can I get you something to drink?  A
soda, perhaps?"

"No, thanks," I replied.  "How's Molly doing this afternoon, Mrs.
O'Toole?"

"She seems to be in a good mood," she said.  I could hear a little
relief in her voice.  "These past few days were hard on her, but I
hope the worst is behind her now."

"With any luck," I agreed.

Josh came trotting down the steps.  "Hey, Seanster.  What's going on?"

"Nada," I answered.

"I heard Moll fumbling around up there.  She'll probably be ready in
another hour or two," he said with a smile.

"Oh, you boys," admonished Mrs. O'Toole.

"I'm just kidding, Mom," said Josh.  He rolled his eyes at me.  He
grabbed the television remote and started flipping through channels,
looking for a diversion while we waited.  I settled back on the
couch, content to watch the images flick on and off.

After a few minutes, we heard Molly coming down the stairs.  Josh
shut off the TV, and I got up to walk over to the bottom of the
staircase.  She saw me, and stopped for a moment, five steps up.

Molly was wearing a long, light blue dress with a high empire waist,
a darker blue ribbon tied in a bow just below her breasts.  The dress
had half-sleeves, coming to just below her elbows, ending in an
explosion of lace, matched by frilly lace on the hem around her
ankles.  I knew she still had some faint bruises on her upper arms,
and I was sure she had deliberately chosen this style of dress, so
that she could hide them.  It didn't matter at all.  It was a
gorgeous dress, and she looked spectacular in it.  It looked like she
had tried to get the yellow stripe out of her hair, and the
hairdresser had helped by streaking the rest of her hair with a pale
golden color that enhanced her strawberry-blonde natural color.  Her
hair was tied up in an elaborate ponytail, and, despite her too-thin
face and arms, she looked beautiful.

She smiled hesitantly at me, and then continued down the stairs.

"Molly, you look absolutely fabulous," I said with a smile.

Her eyes got a little misty.  "Thank you, Sean.  For everything,"
she whispered.

In her high heels, she was almost my height.  I held out my arm, and
she slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow, allowing me to guide
her into the family room, where her mother and father were waiting,
cameras in hand.

"Dad, please," she begged.  "No pictures."

"Sorry, honey," he replied with a grin.  "Parents' prerogative.
It's in the parent's handbook that we got when you were born,
sweetie.  It allows us to reserve the right to embarrass our children
at any time."  With that, he raised the camera, zoomed in on Molly
and me, and snapped the first of what turned out to be about 20
photographs of Molly, Josh, and me, collectively and individually.

We finally managed to escape, and Josh hopped in the back seat as I
opened the passenger door for my date.

"Thank you, Sean," she said quietly, as she slipped into the car.

We picked up Andrea, and Josh had to endure another photography
session with her parents before we could continue on to the school.

"Is there no cure for this?" Josh asked as we finally got on our
way.  "Couldn't they stop making film, or something?"

"I think it's a lesson," said Andrea with a laugh.  "They're passing
on some of their parenting skills to us.  Those pictures will be in
the mail to grandparents all over the country by the end of next
week, I'll bet.  And, in about 20 or 25 years, our parents will be
sitting by the mailbox, expecting pictures of their grandchildren.
We'll be the ones taking the pictures, and our kids will be the ones
complaining."

"And on it goes," grumbled Josh.  "Future generations cannot escape."

"I guess not," I said.  "After all, it's in the handbook."  We all
laughed at that.  Even Molly smiled a little.  It was a good sign.

We pulled into the parking lot at school, and joined a big group of
kids heading for the gymnasium, where the dance was being held.  As
soon as we entered the giant room, we circled the perimeter, looking
for our group.  We found them on the far side, where they had taken
over about 20 folding chairs for us.  Eric and Keisha, Trent and
Danielle, Jake and Jaimie, and Tiny and his date Erica Frost were
already there.  Shortly after we joined them, Austin and Tessa came
in, followed by Jorge and Kristina, with their dates for the evening.
It hurt a little to watch Kristina walking across the dance floor
with another guy.  On the other hand, she probably wasn't happy to
see me here with Molly, even knowing the circumstances.  It was a
lose-lose situation for her and me, but we had no choice but to
accept it for the moment.  I hoped she understood.

The music was already blasting across the room.  I turned to Molly
and said, "Do you want to get out there and dance?"

She gave me a weak smile, and said, "I don't think so, Sean.  I'm
not quite ready for that, yet."

"Okay," I said, and I ushered her into a chair, and sat down next to
her.  Her hands were limp in her lap as she watched the few kids who
were brave enough to chance the dance floor as they hopped and
gyrated to the beat of the records.

"Why don't you go ahead and dance?" she asked, after a few moments.

"Nah," I said.  "I'm content to sit here with you, and not embarrass
myself out there."

She favored me with a small smile.  "I've seen you dance, Sean.  You
don't embarrass yourself."

"Yes, I do," I insisted.  "It's just not very obvious, I guess."

Slowly, little by little, more and more kids made their way out to
dance.  Most of our group ended up dancing, though they mostly stayed
on our side of the gym, and, by some sort of psychic and unspoken
agreement, at least two couples stayed on the sidelines, with Molly
and I, at all times.

I was comfortable, sitting there with her, watching the dancers.
For one thing, it gave me a chance to see my fellow students all
dressed up, and doing something other than trudging down a school
hall.  I saw Becky across the room, waving her head back and forth in
time to the music, and, through the crowd, I caught glimpses of Jen
Davies and Sam Loggins dancing together, Toby and Ashley were out on
the edge of the crowd and holding hands, and Anthony and Ayesha were
jumping and jiving to the music.  Even through all the bodies on the
floor, though, there were two people that my eyes kept being drawn
toward.  Close by, Kristina Mendoza, dressed in a very short, svelte
black dress, sinuously moved around her partner, a sophomore from the
Junior Varsity soccer team named Paco Ochoa, one of Jorge's friends.
Across the room, dancing in and out of my sight, was the pale-haired
Kayla Lehigh, slim and ethereal in a white dress and white stockings,
as she slipped almost magically through the other dancers, unaware
that she was drawing my vision in her direction.

With an effort, I tore my eyes away from the dance floor, and turned
to Molly, who was still passively sitting there, gazing at the
dancers.

"Would you like me to get you something to drink?" I asked.  I
didn't know why, by my throat was dry.

She smiled at me and nodded.  Since Eric and Tiny were sitting
nearby with their dates, I gestured to them to stay put until I
returned.  Eric nodded once, and Tiny gave me a thumbs-up, so I
walked off, along the perimeter of the crowd, toward the refreshment
table.  I decided that a stop in the men's room was in order, so I
pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Bent nearly double over the counter was a kid I barely recognized.
His hair was freshly trimmed, he was clean-shaven, his shoes were
shined, and he had on a cheap, new suit.  He was holding a tiny straw
to his nose, snorting up a line of white powder laid out on the
countertop.  I took a left turn and hustled into one of the stalls
and closed the door quickly, before Joey Amonte had a chance to look
up to see who had come in.  My hands were shaking as I sat down,
nervous and scared as hell.  What the fuck was he doing here?  And
why was he all dressed up?  It worried me, worried me a lot.

I heard him snuffle and snort, finishing up his intake of cocaine.
The sink started running, and I heard him ruffling some paper towels,
no doubt cleaning up the evidence of his habit.  He started whistling
as he slammed the crumpled paper towel into the wastebasket, rattling
the swing top, and I heard the door open, and then close onto silence.

I stayed there for a few moments more, until I heard the door open,
and a rush of sound from the gymnasium came barreling in, to be cut
off as the door swung closed again.  Two guys walked over to the
urinals, talking about where they were taking their dates when they
left the dance.  I flushed the toilet, for effect, and opened the
stall door, stepping to the sink to wash my hands and splash some
cold water on my face.  Think, Sean, I told my reflection in the
mirror.  Think.

But nothing of any brilliance came to me.  I opened the door and
peered out, hoping that Amonte had moved off, away from the
restrooms.  I didn't see him, or anybody else I didn't really want to
see, so I walked over to the refreshment table, picked up two Cokes,
and threaded my way back to Molly.

I had to talk to Jake, and fast, without Molly's knowledge.  This
was the last thing she needed right now.





(Continued in Chapter 19)




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