The Islanders (11 page)

Lucas slowly pulled his legs back, never looking up at Jake.

“Thanks, killer,” Jake said. He turned his back on Lucas and leaned against the railing. Then he bent low and, to Zoey's amazement, kissed her on the lips. She pulled back in surprise.

Jake's eyes flared angrily, but she could tell he didn't want to say anything in front of Lucas.

“Let's go sit down, Jake,” Zoey said tersely.

“No, I like it up here,” he said, waving his arm expansively. “Up here I can look out and see the water. Sitting back there I found my view was obstructed by a piece of garbage. I hate looking at garbage, don't you, Zoey?”

Zoey shot a glance at Lucas, who was still sitting, staring calmly at nothing. Was Jake trying to pick a fight or just showing off?

Jake leaned his back to the railing, releasing Zoey. He stared straight down at Lucas. “I don't think Zoey likes garbage, either. I don't think anyone on the island likes garbage. You hear me, killer?”

Lucas took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you have a problem with me, Jake, don't drag Zoey into the middle of it.”

“In the middle?” Jake demanded. “No, she's not in the middle. No one's in the middle. See, there's all of us on one side, and then there's you on the other, killer.”

With a look of resignation, Lucas got to his feet. “Go ahead, Jake. Get it out of your system. You want to take a shot at me? Fine. Here's your chance.”

Before Zoey could open her mouth, Jake's fist flew through the air, catching Lucas in the stomach and doubling him over. A second blow caught the side of his face and knocked him down onto the steel deck.

“Cut that out!” Skipper Too's angry voice blasted from the P.A. system.

Jake danced back on his toes, fists ready, daring Lucas to get up.

And somehow, before she knew what she was doing, Zoey
was on her knees, wrapping protective arms around Lucas's hunched back.

“Get away from him!” Jake roared. “He had it coming.”

“Don't do this, Zoey,” Lucas whispered, gasping for air.

Aisha and Nina rushed forward to grab Jake's arms and pull him back.

Zoey dug in her ferry bag for her little packet of Kleenex, pulled them all out, and pressed the wad against the flow of blood from Lucas's nose.

Skipper Too appeared, shoving Jake back and shouting, “I'll ban you from this boat, Jake, damned if I won't, if you don't get back there and sit down.”

“That son of a bitch killed my brother!” Jake yelled hotly.

“I said sit down! By God, I'm the captain on this tub and you'll do what I tell you.”

Jake backed away several feet. “Come on, Zoey. Leave that creep to bleed.”

“Oh, shut up, Jake. Shut up!” Zoey cried.

“Go,” Lucas said, trying to push her away. “Don't be stupid. I'm fine. I've taken worse.”

“Zoey, damn it!” Jake yelled.

Zoey helped Lucas back to a sitting position, dabbing at him with her Kleenex in a vain attempt to keep the blood from staining his shirt. She could see Jake storming back to the others,
shooting bitter looks of betrayal at her. Aisha and Nina seemed stunned, uncertain what to do as they stood halfway between Jake and Zoey.

As Zoey watched, Claire reached out and let her fingers settle on Jake's arm. Then her hand curled around his arm. It could have been a gesture of support, or comfort, or . . .

It all happened so quickly. No time to think. And now she knelt at Lucas's side, feeling very, very far away from the only friends she had.

“ALL RIGHT, LINE UP, GIRLS,”
Coach Anders said, giving a blast on her whistle that made Aisha wince. “Line up here on the sidelines. That's right. No, a
line
, not a gaggle.”

Aisha jostled Zoey, who was on her left. “No gaggling,” Aisha said under her breath, trying to get Zoey to laugh. Zoey could only manage a wan smile. Not that Aisha expected more, after the terrible scene on the morning ferry.

Aisha had handled that badly, she felt. She should have gone to Zoey, shown her some support. Zoey had looked so stricken and abandoned. And it wasn't like Aisha was on Jake's side.

Of course she wasn't on Lucas's either.

Why were there suddenly sides, anyway? Zoey was going to have to patch this up with Jake and quit feeling sorry for Lucas or it was going to put Aisha in a difficult spot.

“We are going to get right into it this year,” Coach Anders announced, taking wide, swaggering steps along the line of girls
in their gym shorts and Weymouth High T-shirts. “This,” she held up a white-and-black ball, “is a soccer ball.”

The class groaned in unison. Across the soccer field, a class of guys was running, one after another, toward a high jump, and, one after another, knocking the crossbar down.

“I know, you think because you're seniors you shouldn't even have to take gym class. Or else you think maybe it should just be aerobics or some such thing. Wrong.” She stopped, dropped the ball to the grass, and put her foot on it. “Now, the school board did not approve my proposal to get you girls into weight training, but this will be just as tough.”

“Oh, good,” Aisha said under her breath. “It's important to be sweaty and bruised by the end of third period.”

“Did you have something to add, Ms. Gray?” Coach Anders demanded.

“No, ma'am.”

“Fundamentals!” Coach Anders shouted. “It's a game of fun-da-men-tals. And we are going to work on those fundamentals again and again until every woman here can thread this little ball through a field of opponents, get within scoring distance, and nail that goal.”

A collective sigh of depression went through the group.

“Now, where are my balls?” Coach Anders demanded, looking down the field toward the gym.

Aisha snorted. Several girls giggled. Even Zoey cracked a smile.

Their coach's eyes flashed angrily, but she showed no sign that she understood what was funny. “There we go,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. “Come on. Let's get moving!”

“Sorry, Coach, but one of them had a leak and I had to put on a patch.”

Why was that voice familiar? Aisha wondered. She turned to look, but her view was blocked by Claire and several of the other girls.

“Women,” Coach Anders announced, “meet our new equipment manager.”

He ran up, wearing black shorts and a rugby shirt, carrying a large sack of balls slung over his shoulder.

“His name is Christopher Shupe. He'll be taking care of the balls, bats, nets, and so on. Mr. Forbes, who you may remember from last year, has moved to Florida.”

“Hi,” Christopher said, waving his hand to everyone and grinning directly at Aisha.

“It's a nightmare,” Aisha muttered wonderingly. “Everywhere I go, there he is.”

“Christopher was also on his high school varsity soccer team,” Coach Anders went on, “so he's going to help us out with a few pointers.”

Of course
, Aisha thought darkly.

“Chris, why don't you pick out a volunteer, and we'll demonstrate some of the fun-da-men-tals.”

Gee, I can't even begin to guess who he's going to choose
, Aisha thought sarcastically. After all, the entire world, including her own mother and her gym teacher, was conspiring to get them together.

Christopher sent her a dazzling grin, then walked up, pointed his finger, and said, “All right, I sort of know Zoey, here. Maybe she'll give me a hand.”

Zoey?

“Um, I'm really not . . . you know, very sporty,” Zoey said lamely. “Wouldn't you like to get Aisha?”

Christopher shook his head. “No. No insult intended, but Aisha has somewhat large feet. I'm worried she might trip over herself.”

Aisha felt her jaw drop open. She snapped it shut.
Somewhat large feet?

“I'd never noticed before,” Coach Anders said, looking down thoughtfully at Aisha's feet.

“I wear size nine,” Aisha cried in protest. “That is not large!” Well, maybe nine and a half, but still . . .

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Coach Anders said heartily.

“I don't have big feet,” Aisha repeated. “This is amazing.
The first day of school and I'm being insulted. I can play soccer as well as anyone here.”

“Are you interested in playing soccer?” Christopher asked. “Because desire goes a long way, as I'm sure Coach Anders will agree.”

“Desire is half the battle. The other half is fun-da-men-tals.”

“I have the desire not to have people think I can't play soccer,” Aisha said hotly.

“Great. We were thinking of putting together some intramural teams,” Christopher continued. “You sound so enthusiastic, Aisha. Meet me after school—we'll get together and see if we can get this thing started.”

“Excellent,” Coach Anders said, nodding vigorously. “I know you two will get the ball rolling, so to speak. Ha, ha.”

Christopher just smiled.

“I'm so glad we're back in school,” Nina said, wrinkling her nose at the food on her tray. “I don't get nearly enough tamale pie in my life.”

Zoey looked at her own tray. “Oh. Right.”

“You need to snap out of it, Zo,” Nina chided, leading them toward a table. “You're walking around in a trance.”

“Sorry,” Zoey said. “I guess I'm distracted.”

Nina shrugged. “Guys fight all the time. If they were left on their own, that's all they'd do. Don't take it so seriously.”

They found an empty table, round with four orange plastic chairs. “It's not the fight, Nina. It's the fact that Jake thinks I betrayed him.”

“I'm not eating this,” Nina said. “These people need to make some kind of arrangement for those of us who don't eat dead cow. Jake will get over it.”

“You really think so?”

“Well, not if you keep being nice to Lucas. But if what you want is to keep things together with Jake, you have to make a choice.”

“Jake picked that fight,” Zoey said.

Nina picked at the fruit cocktail on her tray. “Isn't it supposed to be
my boyfriend, right or wrong
?”

Aisha dropped into one of the vacant chairs. “Did you see what happened in gym class?” she demanded of Zoey. “That jerk played me like a fiddle.”

“Like a fiddle?” Nina echoed, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Okay, like whatever. He totally manipulated the situation. Zoey will tell you.”

“Zoey, what's Aisha talking about?” Nina asked.

“Christopher,” Aisha answered angrily. “How many jobs
does he have, anyway? Now Toni LaMara is calling me
Big Foot.
That's the kind of thing you don't want getting started. I told her I'd spread the rumor she slept with George Amos.”

“Toni slept with George Amos?” Nina asked.

“No, of course not. Eew,” Aisha said. “Don't gross me out. But she won't be calling me Big Foot again anytime soon.”

“I guess this is some of that ultrasophisticated, worldly-wise stuff you seniors understand,” Nina said.

Aisha hooked a thumb at Zoey. “She still depressed?”

“I'm not depressed,” Zoey said. “Not exactly. I'm just trying to figure out what to do.”

Aisha shrugged. “You have to pick a side and stay there. Which one do you want, Jake or Lucas?”

“It's not that easy,” Zoey said.

“
Joke
has more muscles,” Nina said. “Especially between his ears.”

“But Lucas is kind of sexy,” Aisha reflected.

“He's done time, Eesh. He's a guy who's had a mug shot, and probably had a number stenciled on his clothes. He probably has a tattoo that says
Born to Raise Hell
on his chest,” Nina said. “No, he's more Claire's type.”

“He's not good enough for your best friend, but he'd be just fine for your sister?” Aisha said, laughing.

“They used to be tight, don't forget. Besides, it would be
so much fun if Claire brought Lucas home to meet our dad. He loves Benjamin. He wants to pay Benjamin's way through college. He'd chew porcelain if he thought Lucas was going out with his precious Claire.”

“Hmm. Then Benjamin would be free, I could ask him out, and that would so blow Christopher away,” Aisha said.

“You and Benjamin? No way. Incompatible,” Nina said dismissively. “Totally wrong.”

“I can't believe I took Lucas's side against Jake,” Zoey said, shaking her head.

“Your nurturing instinct just took over. Apologize to Jake, blow off Lucas, get on with your life,” Nina said.

“Tell Jake you can't stand the sight of blood, so you just lost it when he punched Lucas,” Aisha advised. “He'll believe that. Besides, you two have to work it out; you're one of the Solid Couples.”

“Really,” Nina agreed. “You and Jake are pillars of Weymouth High society. People count on you. You're the very stable, slightly boring couple that other couples look to and say, Gee, why can't we have the kind of dull, predictable relationship Jake and Zoey have?”

Zoey smiled, in spite of the fact that she knew Nina was deliberately trying to goad her. “You're such a keen observer of other people's relationships, Nina. I guess it helps not to have
one of your own to distract you.”

Nina clapped a hand to her chest. “Ooh, straight through the heart.”

“I'm not going to blow my relationship with Jake,” Zoey said, trying to sound firm and decisive.

“I
am
going to blow my relationship with Christopher,” Aisha said. “Whatever it takes. He cannot just barge his way into my life.”

“I'm going to become a lonely, shriveled-up old lady,” Nina said.

“Don't look,” Aisha said urgently, leaning forward over the table. “It's Lucas.”

“Is he coming this way?” Zoey asked, forcing herself to keep her gaze rigidly locked on Aisha.

“Yes. No. Wait a minute,” Aisha said, throwing repeated glances across the crowded lunchroom.

“I'll call him over,” Nina said.

“Nina!”
Zoey cried.

“Kidding. Jeez, don't wet yourself.”

“He's sitting down,” Aisha said, leaning back with a sigh.

“I haven't seen Jake anywhere since homeroom,” Zoey said.

“You'll see him on the ferry after school,” Nina pointed out. “Just have a talk with him. He'll have his testosterone under control by then.”

“He may not talk to me,” Zoey said glumly.

“Then go to lip lock,” Nina said.

Aisha nodded sagely. “Lip lock. That will do the trick.”

“Slippery lippery.”

“Mouth to mouth.”

“Tongue twistage.”

“Molar mining.”

Zoey sighed. “I'm so glad I'm a senior now. Our conversations are so much more intelligent than they were last year.”