All the girls he had met over the years spoke easily about themselves. Sighing, he turned left on Oak Avenue, realizing it was time to get some ideas from his dad.
About fifty feet from home, Scott saw Destiny walking toward him, dressed in shorts and a pink halter top. Her black hair blew freely in the breeze. She waved enthusiastically while he grunted, “Man, this girl never quits.”
Destiny was now applying her makeup according to her skin tone. She was also using less hairspray. Because she was looking more attractive, the tension between Brett and Adam had increased. Both of those boys were interested in her.
“Hi, Scott,” Destiny said as she reached his house at the same time he did. She glanced at the bag of seeds. “Are you helping someone with their lawn?”
Scott shrugged and didn’t reply. He made his way to the front door. “Did you need something?”
“I came over to talk to you.”
Scott placed the bag on the lawn and sat on his front steps.
Destiny joined him. “I was just wondering how you know so much about makeup.”
“I took art classes.”
“What does that have to do with makeup?”
“It’s just another form of art.”
“I never thought of makeup as art.” When Scott didn’t reply, Destiny asked, “Do you think I look better now?”
Scott studied the subtle application of her makeup and her naturally windblown hair. “Yes.”
As soon as he gave his response, Scott regretted it. She moved closer, touching her shoulder against his, gazing steadily at him. He quickly moved his attention to the vacant lot in front of his house. He knew that look. It was the same one Briana had just given him and he knew Destiny wouldn’t turn her head.
He added quickly, “All the guys think you look better too.”
“I don’t care what they think. I only care what you think.”
“Some of them might care about you,” he replied as he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing in that direction, he spotted Derek, tossing his football from hand to hand, studying Scott and Destiny sitting on the steps.
Derek cut across Felicia’s lawn, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, Scott, we’re playing basketball at three instead. Can you make it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you then,” Derek replied, completely ignoring Destiny.
Scott knew his friend wouldn’t want him hooking up with Destiny. Derek and Destiny had dated several years ago, and the boys had an unspoken agreement about dating ex-girlfriends. It would definitely put a damper on their friendship.
While Destiny watched Derek stroll away, she scrunched up her face with disgust. “He might be the best-looking boy in school, but he’s a jerk.”
“You’re talking about my friend.”
“Whether or not he’s your friend, he’s still a two-timing jerk.”
Scott didn’t reply. In eighth grade, when Destiny found out that Derek was dating others, she basically let Derek and all the students in the cafeteria know exactly what she thought of him. After that incident, Derek and Destiny never spoke again.
*****
Derek gripped his football as he made his way to the park the following morning. He was usually the first one there, but today, he was fifteen minutes late. Derek rubbed his forehead. Even though he woke up with a severe headache, his dad always insisted practice in the backyard must continue. According to his old man, someday he may have to play a football game with a pounding headache. Derek growled. His dad always had a way of rambling on about accuracy and precision. Scott wasn’t helping either. Yesterday when he walked home with Scott after their basketball game, Derek had asked him about Destiny, wanting to know if they were dating. Scott simply mentioned they were only friends. Then Derek asked why his right-hand man was missing their football games every Thursday. Scott gave him an odd look, one that Derek had never seen before, and then played the comedian.
Scott had joked, “I’ve been preoccupied by Mrs. Whitfield’s maple tree. I trimmed it incorrectly and nearly killed it. I had to rub the leaves and speak to it gently just to revitalize the tree.” Then Scott stuffed his hands into his pocket and added, “You wouldn’t believe it, Derek. Yesterday I checked the tree, and it was back to normal. Boy, was that a relief. I didn’t want to have to tell Mrs. Whitfield that I killed her tree.”
That final sarcastic comment blew Derek’s patience and he glared at his friend and said, “Shut your damn mouth or you’ll be seeing my fists.” Something was going on in Scott’s life and Scott wanted to keep it private. Why not just say it straight out instead of making up a damn story?
That was nearly twenty-four hours ago, and for some reason, Derek was still angry as he crossed Elm Avenue and entered the park. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead. The day was already hot and stifling, but at least this park didn’t smell.
Before the basketball game yesterday, Scott had thrown manure on the recently planted grass. Then taking his weed eater, Scott cut the grass below the picnic tables, between the cracks in the basketball court, and alongside the restroom wall. When the guys arrived to play basketball, the smell nearly drove them out. Only Randy appeared unimpressed by the improvement of the park, calling Scott a nerd for smelling up the park before their game.
Ignoring his headache, Derek strolled through the grass to his friends who were tossing the football around. It wasn’t easy being the leader of this group. He had to be tough, and he couldn’t worry about whether or not the guys liked him. Derek narrowed his eyes and waved his hand in an impatient gesture. “Why haven’t you guys started playing?”
The guys looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They knew he was in one of his bad moods and itching for a confrontation. That meant they’d be sticking together when he jumped all over the player who made a stupid mistake.
It only took twenty minutes into the game for Derek to become annoyed. He enjoyed adding cuts to the passing routes and told Jess to run a slant and then cut quickly to the right. Derek threw the ball to the intended location, but his pass sailed into nothingness because Jess ran a slant and cut to the left.
Derek yelled, “What the hell are you doing, Jess? This is the second time today you’ve gone in the wrong direction.” Derek watched Jess brush his palms against his shirt as he walked back to the line of scrimmage. Sure the guys hated his seriousness of the game, but they wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t hound them.
Matt moved beside Jess, followed by Scott, Karl, and the rest. Matt said, “Take it easy, Derek. You’ve been wound up since you got here and taking your anger out on Jess.”
Inhaling slowly, Derek’s head pulsated, threatening to explode any minute. He should have known he’d have no patience to deal with his friends today. Derek snarled, “If you guys can’t even follow a basic play, we’ll never make it to state this year.” He glared at Brett. “Give me my damn football.”
Without hesitation, Brett tossed the ball to him. Before leaving, Derek
