It wasn't until after school during basketball practice that Jim had to interact with Alan van Kassel. He wasn't looking forward to it - at best, the guy was from a rival team, had bragged about using drugs, and had easily knocked him to the floor once. At worst, the guy had possibly tried to run him off the road. That said, he wasn't stupid, and he was reasonably sure that if van Kassel started something, he would be able to help finish it. Coach made the introductions to the rest of the team, who were seated on the bleachers.

"I'm sure some of you remember Alan van Kassel from various games we've played against Sunnyside. He's a junior this year and is finishing high school here in Sleepyside. We're glad to have him on the team."

Someone Jim couldn't identify whispered, "Says who?" And several people snickered. He frowned. Okay, that's not cool.

Coach glanced up at van Kassel. "There is another matter we need to discuss as a team. I won't have this team torn apart by rumors and secrets. Alan? You requested to be the one to talk to the team?"

Alan actually looked like he thought he might be about to walk the plank, but he nodded firmly. "Yes, Coach. I can't expect them to want to play with me if I'm not honest with them."

This turn of events was throwing Jim for a loop. Beside him on the bleachers, Brian's face reflected the same.

"A few months ago when I played for Sunnyside, I did something really stupid. I flashed around a bottle in the locker room and bragged about being on steroids. I - I wasn't. I was - it doesn't matter why, just that I was lying. There weren't any steroids in the bottle. It was some kind of essential oils bottle from my mom. My old coach called me in to his office to talk to some cops, and they took it and some other things, and tested it in a lab. They determined I wasn't on drugs and didn't have any, and they gave me a pretty stern talk about what I did. There isn't any excuse for doing something that dumb. My parents were getting a divorce and I was kind of messed up over it. So ... yeah. You're not stuck with a druggie on your team, just someone who did something stupid and is paying for it."

If someone had thrown Jim a bowling ball and shouted, "Catch!" he could not have been more surprised. Was it true? How stupid did you have to be to pull something like that? Did that situation lead to his being uprooted from Sunnyside? He had to admire a guy who faced things head-on, and Coach had said that he had requested to tell the team the truth himself. That was exactly what Jim would have done if he was going into a situation where he thought a group of strangers might have reason to distrust him. Or, was it a cover? Why was his locker vandalized if this guy was so sorry about everything?

He glanced at Brian. It was clear that his friend was skeptical too.

After Coach's introduction and their new team member's confession, the team lined up to shake hands with their new member before practice started in earnest. Jim and Brian were last in line, and by this time, the Coach's attention was on getting the court ready for their drills.

"We can skip the handshakes. You -" he glared at Jim, "Ruined my life, and you," he pointed at Brian accusingly, "Punched me."

"You were literally in the process of hurting my friend! You ripped his coat and he got cut on the lockers and had to miss a college fair he'd been planning on for weeks! What was I supposed to do, stand there and critique your form?" Brian snapped.

"Belden! Frayne! Van Kassel! We have a game to practice for, if you're done sharing your feelings over there!" Coach bellowed from across the gymnasium. "Finish braiding each other's hair and get over here!"

The three boys broke their glaring match to do as Coach had asked, jogging toward where the rest of the team had already started their drills.

"Are you the one who vandalized my locker?" Jim asked directly.

Van Kassel's sneer dropped for just a second before it was back in place as though it had never left. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you, Frayne? I don't give a crap about your stupid locker, or you!" He flung out his right arm to give Jim a rough shove, but he saw it coming and sidestepped with the grace of a cat. Van Kassel would have fallen to the hard gymnasium floor if Brian hadn't caught his arm and levered him upright.

"That," he said, fixing his sternest Brian Belden glare on the other boy, "-was because we're teammates now. We need to be able to work together on the floor. We just did you a favor by saving you a fight and detention and benching before you've even started. How about you return the favor and knock that chip off of your shoulder?"

Van Kassel's response was to shrug Brian's hand away and sprint ahead of them, leaving Jim and Brian staring in confusion.

Trixie had brought a list with her to school from Moms, who had asked her to pick up some items from town for a special dish she was hoping to prepare for upcoming holiday dinners. She had also given Trixie more money than the items would cost, and told her to spend the rest on something she wanted. Often, on days when Jim and Brian had basketball practice after school, and the BWGs had ridden together in the station wagon, the others stayed late getting their homework done, errands accomplished, and socializing. Honey was at the public library looking through old microfiche newspapers for a report. Trixie had been there with her, but had finished early. Mart and Dan were tutoring other students, and Trixie found herself with time on her hands, money in her pocket, and a very legitimate reason to do some investigating at Crimper's.

She had been going to the store since she could remember, and both of her parents had told her about the old soda jerk fountain the store used to have, making it quite the hangout in their day. The Crimpers had always been kind, remembering their customers by name. Old Mrs. Crimper still worked at the counters sometimes, even though her son and daughter-in-law now ran the store. Trixie got all the way to the counter and looked around. No one was in sight. She glanced at Moms' list in dismay. There were two items she didn't know how to choose without help. She looked around carefully. Items out on the counter indicated that someone had been there and recently. A mug of coffee steamed near the register and a bottle of soda and some black licorice lay as though whoever was purchasing them had just disappeared.

From somewhere near the back of the store, she heard the sound of muffled voices. Curiosity getting the better of her, she moved as quietly as she could toward the sound.

A deep male voice asked, "Can't you even tell me when the boy will be back, Mother?"

Old Mrs. Crimper's voice snapped tartly, "You lost the right to call me that when you spent your son's college fund on your own nonsense and broke Delia's heart!"

"Fine! Mrs. Crimper, I need to see my boy. I have to make him see reason. A boy needs his father! Delia said she wouldn't keep him from me!"

Delia! That was Alan van Kassel's mother's name, Di had said! Was this Alan van Kassel's father? Dan had said that he had heard her explaining to the school secretary about her divorce!

Trixie crept closer, too intrigued to even consider how terribly she was eavesdropping.

"If your boy wanted to see you, he would! He has your phone number, Jeffrey. It used to be his. If he hasn't called you, then that's probably because he's upset with you!"

"Okay, then have Delia call me! She can't do this to us, this family! Our son had a scholarship lined up for basketball! He wouldn't have needed the college fund anyway if that kid hadn't been a rat and got him into all of that trouble!"

"I can't speak to any of that, Jeffrey. I shouldn't even be talking to you now! If Delia comes back and finds you here, she's going to be upset with me too! Give them time. You're the one who made mistakes here. If you truly love your son, you'll give him the time he needs. I don't want to have to say this to you, Jeffrey, but you can't come back here. I don't want you in this store unless Delia and Alan tell me that they're all right with it."

There was a loud thud, and for a moment, Trixie was worried that this Jeffrey had done something to Mrs. Crimper, but then she heard the old woman huff in frustration and exclaim, "Now just look what you've done! You've put a hole in the wall, you idiot! I am not going to lie to my daughter and grandson about this! Get out, or I'm calling Sergeant Molinson to make sure you get out!"

At this point, Trixie knew she had to make her presence known in such a way that they wouldn't suspect her of listening in. She felt her face burn a little bit with the realization that she had eavesdropped so badly. She moved back to the middle of the store and called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

The back door opened, and Mrs. Crimper and a tall, broad-shouldered blond man stepped out of the back room. Trixie pasted on her best smile.

"Oh! Hello, Mrs. Crimper! I didn't see anyone up front, and my mother sent me with a list -"

Mrs. Crimper called her by name when she saw her. "Hello, Trixie dear! How can I help you today?"

Trixie handed Moms' list to the woman and smiled. "Moms is making some kind of special recipe for the holidays. I had time after school, so I told her I'd get what she needs."

Mrs. Crimper took the list and studied it. The blond man scowled at Trixie and at Mrs. Crimper.

"Can I at least get my soda and licorice?"

Impatiently, Mrs. Crimper waved her hand at him. "Oh, just take it!"

Jeffrey grabbed his items and exited, letting the door slam behind him. Trixie winced at the loud bang it made.

"How awfully rude!" Trixie exclaimed.

The older woman smiled, shaking her head. "Some people are just determined to go around acting as though they were raised in a barn. Now! It looks to me like Helen is planning to cook a goose?"

"That's right! Mart has been reading a lot of Dickens and wanted to try goose this year. I'm awfully afraid our house is going to be filled with terrible puns about cooked geese! How could you tell?"

"I've cooked a few geese in my day, literally and figuratively! Also, in the top corner it says, 'deep pan for goose grease.' She's going to want a good meat thermometer and I know just the pan! Heavens, all of the zesting that will be going on! How's your cheese grater?"

Trixie had never before been required to report on the health of her personal cheese grater, and she had to think hard. "Old and dull. It belonged to Moms' grandmother."

Mrs. Crimper led her to a wall containing various types of graters. "If you're having a traditional holiday goose, you'll be zesting lemons and limes until you immunize yourself against scurvy!"

At that moment, the door opened to admit Alan van Kassel. He scurried toward the counter and ducked under, coming up on the other side with a Crimper's store apron on. "Sorry I'm late, Grandma! Practice ran a bit over! What's this about scurvy? Are you cooking a goose again this year?"

Mrs. Crimper dropped Trixie's items so far on the counter. "It's all right, Alan. You know you don't have to work until you're done with school and practice. And no, we won't be having goose this year, not unless Trixie's mother wants to make two instead of one! My goose-cooking days are far behind me!"

Alan still hadn't looked up from her purchases on the counter, and he called back to his grandmother, "But you used to cook one every Christmas! You used to make me zest!"

He looked up, saw Trixie, and it was like a thundercloud had descended from the sky to personally darken his expression. His lighthearted banter with his grandmother ended abruptly and he glared at her.

Oblivious to the change in the mood, Mrs. Crimper came back in with the rest of what Trixie would need for her mother. "Alan dear, please start ringing Trixie up for me, would you? Oh, let me introduce you! Alan, this is Trixie Belden. She goes to your new school. Trixie, this is my grandson, Alan. He's on the basketball team!"

Her tone of voice was that unmistakable proud parent or grandparent, bragging on their kid.

"I believe Trixie is good friends with Diana, as a matter of fact. Have you two met?"

Alan glared woodenly at Trixie. "I heard you and Diana had a falling out."

Hating the lie she'd gotten herself stuck in, Trixie nodded. "We did."

Mrs. Crimper watched the exchange. "Oh, dear. I just hate to hear that you and Diana have had a disagreement! I hope you girls can get past it and become friends again." She elbowed her grandson aside gently, and continued to ring Trixie's items up. "Alan, I'm certain that Diana and Trixie will be friends again in no time. There's no need for that sullen expression!"

"Sorry, Grandma. I'll just go stock the sodas, okay?"

"All right," she said, her expression worried. "I'm sorry about Alan's comment, Trixie. I'm sure he didn't mean it at all the way it sounded."

Trixie had her doubts, but she mustered a smile for the kind older woman. "I'm sure he didn't. Thank you so much, Mrs. Crimper! I'm sure Moms will be happy!"

She exited the store, bags in hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. No wonder Jim hates lying so much! I didn't think this would be such a fiasco! Gleeps, I just want to go home and get to the clubhouse!