As I stepped out of the room, Gwen grabbed my arm (another little pet peeve
of mine that I'd have slaughtered anyone else for). "You're going out in
public like that?"
"What? You got a problem with my lucky jersey?"
"Well, I'm not too fond of that either, but I was talking about your hair! It's a mess! C'mon, Rina! You've got such great hair! Do something with it!" Trust a cheerleader to point out something like that, and make it her solemn vow to fix it for you.
"Ouch! Watch it, will, you? That's attached to my head, you know?"
"Oh, don't be such a baby! There! All done! And you look great!" She held up a mirror.
I did everything in my power to keep myself from screaming. She had braided my hair! I looked like a little pansy or whatever you call those little girl scouts! I reached up and clawed it out with my fingers. "Don't ever do that to me again!" We reached a compromise and left it up in a ponytail.
We headed out of the building and across the street. I was old enough to come and go as I pleased, as long as I was back before 7:30, and didn't go out before 8:00. The boys were outside waiting for me when Gwen and I showed up.
"Hey, Rina! Who's your friend?" called Randy. He sounded less than thrilled. The boys didn't know Gwen because I wasn't allowed out of the foster home unsupervised until after she had found her family. Alison and Roy were great parents from what she told me, and even though she said Ellen was annoying, what I wouldn't do for a big sister, or even better, a big brother.
"Hey guys! This is Gwen."
Gwen looked at the expressions on their faces, which seemed to say Oh man! Another girl! and said, "I'm just here to watch." Still, they'd have let her play if she wanted to, unless they wanted a fat lip. Now you're starting to see how I deal with people, huh? But that's the only reason I'm allowed to play with these guys.
About a year before then, on the day after Gwen found a permanent home, I was kind of lonely. She was the only one in the foster home who had ever really appreciated me. She was really popular, but I was an outcast. I liked it that way, but naturally, after she left, I got lonely. I needed to make new friends, and Jade realized that. She, as a fellow tomboy, also had a slight understanding of how I functioned. It wasn't much of one, but it was not enough to know that I needed something to do, which would be virtually impossible with the girls there. So she started letting me go out.
The first time I ever left the building alone, I could almost smell freedom in the air. I wished Gwen was there with me, but that couldn't be helped. I saw some boys playing basketball through a fence across the street, and slipped through a hole in it. Once I was inside, I leaned against the fence and watched for a few minutes before they noticed me. They walked over to me, looking tough. "What do you want, Girly?" asked Randy, their leader.
"Mind if I play?" I asked with mock-courtesty.
"Yeah we mind."
"Why's that?"
"Because, Chicki, you're a girl, not to mention a short one, and girls can't handle this court."
"Yeah! I bet you'd get fouled once and run home crying to your mommy!" They all broke out into hysterical laughter.
Now it was personal! "Oh really? Try me." I was seriously fighting the urge to break one of their bones. I had never really talked to a boy before because I'd been in a foster home for girls for so long. I didn't realize that boys liked having their faces remodeled.
"Okay, Punk," said Randy. He was the one who called me Chicki before, too. This guy was really cruisin' for a bruisin'! "You and me. One-on-one. First-to-five. So what kind of handicap do you want?"
I just met him with a cold, hard stare. "I'll spot you four."
He guffawed. "Do you even know what that means?"
"Of course I do. It means that the score at the beginning of the game is 4:0 your favor. It means that you only have to score once to win. I have to score five times."
He shrugged and gave me an arrogant half-smile. "Alright, Squirt. If that's what you want. You take first out. That means you get the ball first." I vowed right then that I'd wipe that smirk right off his face!
The first thing I did was a fancy little whirling maneuver I taught myself in the gym. I got right past him and slam-dunked it. He just stared wide- eyed, and I decided to rub it in a little. I winked at him and said, "Your ball, Big Boy."
He was still in shock when he started dribbling, so it was no problem at all for me to take it from him. One quick swipe, and I was on my way down the court, and finished up in a nice, well-formed lay-up. I snapped him out of it with one of the little retorts that I was famous for. "Come on! The whole reason I gave you this handicap was so that it'd be more challenging!"
After that, it was a little more of a challenge. It tends to be once your opponent wakes up. He started taking the ball and shooting. But he just couldn't get it past me. Gradually, I gained more respect for him as he progressively forgot that I was a girl, and started treating me like any other opponent.
Then the score was four to four. He had the ball, but I was ready. I stole it, and was about to make the shot, when I felt something hit my shins. He had tripped me! I fell flat on my face, and he scored the winning basket.
"Hey! What gives?" I demanded as I stood up and dusted myself off.
"Well, well, well," he said, "Looks like Little-Miss-Carrot-Top isn't as good as she thinks she is. I give you credit for not crying, Freckles, but why don't you go home and crochet with your mom like all the other.oof!" I didn't let him finish. I just snapped. It took almost no time for my fist to find his stomach, and I don't deny that I enjoyed it very much.
The next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the ground, grappling each other by the shoulders. I had a decent grip on him, but his was better and we both knew it. So I released him, and slugged him in the face so that he'd let go. It worked, and I did a backward roll to get out of his range, and from there I sprang to my feet.
"Had enough, Red?" I took up a fighting stance and beckoned, Matrix style as if to say, "bring it on." He charged at me, but he was far enough away for me to prepare. That was only his first mistake. He was going to try and do the wrestling thing again, and so he had his hand way out in front of him. I grabbed it, and gave it a good yank. He went sailing over my shoulder and landed on his back on the ground.
"My name's Rina. Get it right, Funnyboy!" And from that point on, I've been one of the guys.
"What? You got a problem with my lucky jersey?"
"Well, I'm not too fond of that either, but I was talking about your hair! It's a mess! C'mon, Rina! You've got such great hair! Do something with it!" Trust a cheerleader to point out something like that, and make it her solemn vow to fix it for you.
"Ouch! Watch it, will, you? That's attached to my head, you know?"
"Oh, don't be such a baby! There! All done! And you look great!" She held up a mirror.
I did everything in my power to keep myself from screaming. She had braided my hair! I looked like a little pansy or whatever you call those little girl scouts! I reached up and clawed it out with my fingers. "Don't ever do that to me again!" We reached a compromise and left it up in a ponytail.
We headed out of the building and across the street. I was old enough to come and go as I pleased, as long as I was back before 7:30, and didn't go out before 8:00. The boys were outside waiting for me when Gwen and I showed up.
"Hey, Rina! Who's your friend?" called Randy. He sounded less than thrilled. The boys didn't know Gwen because I wasn't allowed out of the foster home unsupervised until after she had found her family. Alison and Roy were great parents from what she told me, and even though she said Ellen was annoying, what I wouldn't do for a big sister, or even better, a big brother.
"Hey guys! This is Gwen."
Gwen looked at the expressions on their faces, which seemed to say Oh man! Another girl! and said, "I'm just here to watch." Still, they'd have let her play if she wanted to, unless they wanted a fat lip. Now you're starting to see how I deal with people, huh? But that's the only reason I'm allowed to play with these guys.
About a year before then, on the day after Gwen found a permanent home, I was kind of lonely. She was the only one in the foster home who had ever really appreciated me. She was really popular, but I was an outcast. I liked it that way, but naturally, after she left, I got lonely. I needed to make new friends, and Jade realized that. She, as a fellow tomboy, also had a slight understanding of how I functioned. It wasn't much of one, but it was not enough to know that I needed something to do, which would be virtually impossible with the girls there. So she started letting me go out.
The first time I ever left the building alone, I could almost smell freedom in the air. I wished Gwen was there with me, but that couldn't be helped. I saw some boys playing basketball through a fence across the street, and slipped through a hole in it. Once I was inside, I leaned against the fence and watched for a few minutes before they noticed me. They walked over to me, looking tough. "What do you want, Girly?" asked Randy, their leader.
"Mind if I play?" I asked with mock-courtesty.
"Yeah we mind."
"Why's that?"
"Because, Chicki, you're a girl, not to mention a short one, and girls can't handle this court."
"Yeah! I bet you'd get fouled once and run home crying to your mommy!" They all broke out into hysterical laughter.
Now it was personal! "Oh really? Try me." I was seriously fighting the urge to break one of their bones. I had never really talked to a boy before because I'd been in a foster home for girls for so long. I didn't realize that boys liked having their faces remodeled.
"Okay, Punk," said Randy. He was the one who called me Chicki before, too. This guy was really cruisin' for a bruisin'! "You and me. One-on-one. First-to-five. So what kind of handicap do you want?"
I just met him with a cold, hard stare. "I'll spot you four."
He guffawed. "Do you even know what that means?"
"Of course I do. It means that the score at the beginning of the game is 4:0 your favor. It means that you only have to score once to win. I have to score five times."
He shrugged and gave me an arrogant half-smile. "Alright, Squirt. If that's what you want. You take first out. That means you get the ball first." I vowed right then that I'd wipe that smirk right off his face!
The first thing I did was a fancy little whirling maneuver I taught myself in the gym. I got right past him and slam-dunked it. He just stared wide- eyed, and I decided to rub it in a little. I winked at him and said, "Your ball, Big Boy."
He was still in shock when he started dribbling, so it was no problem at all for me to take it from him. One quick swipe, and I was on my way down the court, and finished up in a nice, well-formed lay-up. I snapped him out of it with one of the little retorts that I was famous for. "Come on! The whole reason I gave you this handicap was so that it'd be more challenging!"
After that, it was a little more of a challenge. It tends to be once your opponent wakes up. He started taking the ball and shooting. But he just couldn't get it past me. Gradually, I gained more respect for him as he progressively forgot that I was a girl, and started treating me like any other opponent.
Then the score was four to four. He had the ball, but I was ready. I stole it, and was about to make the shot, when I felt something hit my shins. He had tripped me! I fell flat on my face, and he scored the winning basket.
"Hey! What gives?" I demanded as I stood up and dusted myself off.
"Well, well, well," he said, "Looks like Little-Miss-Carrot-Top isn't as good as she thinks she is. I give you credit for not crying, Freckles, but why don't you go home and crochet with your mom like all the other.oof!" I didn't let him finish. I just snapped. It took almost no time for my fist to find his stomach, and I don't deny that I enjoyed it very much.
The next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the ground, grappling each other by the shoulders. I had a decent grip on him, but his was better and we both knew it. So I released him, and slugged him in the face so that he'd let go. It worked, and I did a backward roll to get out of his range, and from there I sprang to my feet.
"Had enough, Red?" I took up a fighting stance and beckoned, Matrix style as if to say, "bring it on." He charged at me, but he was far enough away for me to prepare. That was only his first mistake. He was going to try and do the wrestling thing again, and so he had his hand way out in front of him. I grabbed it, and gave it a good yank. He went sailing over my shoulder and landed on his back on the ground.
"My name's Rina. Get it right, Funnyboy!" And from that point on, I've been one of the guys.
