How To Be A Perfect Girl (14 page)

“You’d better believe it.”

“Well, ok then Private, I guess you have a
point. But anyway, I just don’t know why I said those things. It
was like—“

“Like you were channeling Avery,” Porter cut
in.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Please continue.”

“That’s about it. I just don’t know why I
was so mean; I mean, she looked really hurt by what I said! It’s
like I’m becoming—like I’m becoming—“ Val took a moment to compose
her thoughts, “—like I’m becoming like everyone else here.”

“Not everyone at Palm Lake is like that,”
Porter argued, “I mean, there are at least—“ he paused a moment,
counting on his fingers, “—a dozen kids going here who aren’t
totally horrible.”

Val giggled again, “Probably a few more than
that.”

“The exact numbers don’t matter. What
matters is that you felt bad about saying what you said, and that
you’re not going to do it again. Right?”

“Right.”

“Well then, nothing to concern yourself
over. Think of it this way; Avery wouldn’t have felt bad, and she
certainly wouldn’t have apologized. So if you apologize, you’re not
as bad as her.” Porter frowned, “By the way, don’t tell her I said
that.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks. Val—“Porter looked like he really
wanted to say something; he shook his head, “Never mind. I think
next period’s starting soon.” As if to confirm his statement, the
bell rang.

“See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll teach you how a real
football player throws.”

“I’m not that bad!” Val insisted.

“Oh, you’re horrible. But it’s endearing,
really.” Porter winked, “Now, you’d better be on your way.”

The rest of the day was tedious; Val was
anxious for it to be over. Even though Student Gov was getting
ready to start campaigning for offices, Val had a hard time getting
excited about it; her mind was too preoccupied by other matters.
When she returned home, it was to find both parents waiting for
her, with disapproving looks.

“Val—“Mom began, ”Val, how could you--?”

“
Your Principal called me
at work and mentioned you’d bullied some poor girl,” Dad added,
“And that she left the school in tears.”

Valentina felt immediately defensive, “I
didn’t bully her. All I said was the truth.”

“Alright,” Dad folded his arms, “What did
you say?”

“Well she was talking
about how this one kid—Dylan—how he’s so great and cute and I just
couldn’t take it. Cause Dylan’s a jerk! So I said that—“ Val
struggled to come up with a way to phrase what she was trying to
say that would seem less mean, “—I said that Dylan wasn’t as
attractive as she thought he was, and that kinda led me to say that
maybe if
she
were
more attractive she’d have a better perspective on the whole
thing.”

Mom gasped, “What did you say, exactly?”

“I think I said something like, kids like
Noah, who’s kind of a nerd, would be the only type of guy who would
ever show interest in her.”

Mom exhaled loudly, “Val, this is serious.
You can’t say things like that; insulting other girls can destroy
their self-esteem and screw up their whole lives. Do you
understand?”

Val looked at the carpet, “Well yeah—but
it’s true!”

“True from your
perspective,” Dad corrected. “I’m sure it’s not entirely true. And
even—
even
—if it
is, such things are not for you to point out. You have been
blessed, Valentina, with good looks, but do not make the mistake of
thinking looks are everything. In reality they’re very little. Far
more important is what’s on the inside.”

What a cliché,
“Yeah, I know. But, I mean, I didn’t hit
anyone.”

“No,” Mom agreed, “And that’s good. But you
made that other girl so mad that she hit you, and that’s not good.
How would you feel if someone said the things you said to her to
you?”

“I’d know they weren’t true,” Val
argued.

Dad sighed, “It’s clear you need some time
to think on this. So until you apologize to that girl, no more
study groups and no soccer.”

Val groaned, “But tryouts start Wednesday!
And I need to study to get good grades.”

“Study groups can be great,” Dad replied,
“But you can get just as much done by yourself as you can with
them. Especially when you spend most of the time joking
around.”

“But we don’t!”

“Sure you do; it’s only natural. We’re
alright with it, but the temporary moratorium is part of your
punishment.” Dad looked Val in the eye, “Now, do you accept your
punishment?” It was a game he’d played since Val’s childhood;
making her agree to the punishment, as if that somehow made it less
severe.

“I suppose,” Val started up the stairs to
her room, “But how will you know when I’ve apologized?”

“When you tell us; we’ll trust you,” Mom
smiled kindly, “We don’t believe you’re a bad person, Val. You just
said some things today that you shouldn’t have. Once you do what
you need to in order to fix that, then you’ll have our respect
again.”

Chapter 11

Tuesday morning, Val woke up so late she
missed her first class. Dad gave her an earful as he drove her to
school, “You know algebra isn’t your best subject, Val. You can’t
afford to miss even a single day.”

“I know, I know.” Val let him lecture; she
stared out the window, answering only when necessary. Dad parked as
close to the front doors as the drop-off lane would allow; “Have
fun,” he smiled.

“Right,” Val rolled her eyes, “Thanks for
the lift, dad.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Dad drove
off.

Val checked her phone’s clock; it was almost
passing period. She headed to the girl’s locker room and deposited
her bag before changing into the freshly laundered gym clothes
she’d brought home over the weekend. She walked down the stairs and
exited through a pair of doors less than a hundred feet from the
football field. Only a couple of Val’s classmates were there before
her; they had opened the bag of footballs, and were throwing one
around as Mr. Sharp watched. Valentina stood far off enough that it
was obvious she didn’t want to participate.

Val heard Porter greet someone from behind
her, “Hey there. How are you?”

Whoever it was didn’t respond; Val jumped at
a poke to her ribs; “Hey oblivious, I was talking to you.” Porter
flashed his familiar grin, “Or were you ignoring me?”

“I’d never ignore you,” Val returned the
smile. “I just thought you were talking to someone else—“ she took
a step away from Porter, so that she could look him in the eye
without craning her neck, “Sorry.”

Porter laughed, “No need to be sorry. So,
how are you?”

Val shrugged, “Alright, I guess. I missed my
first class, and my dad gave me an earful for that, so I could
definitely be better. How about you?”

“Getting ready for my favorite class of the
day, so I’m doing great.”

“This is your favorite class of the
day?”

Porter nodded, “Of course. I love football,
and when most of the class has never played it before in their
life, it makes it easy to show off.”

Mr. Sharp called to the class, bringing them
in around him. “Ok, time for class. First things first, let’s do a
quick lap around the field to warm up.” The class groaned; “Winner
gets extra credit,” Mr. Sharp added, as if anyone needed extra
credit in his class. Everyone knew he gave out A’s to all of his
students, no matter how good or bad they were. Still, Porter caught
Val’s gaze and mouthed, “Race you.”

Val took off while the rest of the class was
still milling about, probably waiting for a final go-ahead from Mr.
Sharp. It felt good to run; Val let her mind go blank as she jogged
around the first corner. She was halfway down the long end of the
field when Porter passed her; he stuck his tongue out, “I thought
you’d be a little faster than this,” and then took off at a full
sprint. Val kicked up her speed in an effort to catch back up with
him, but Porter’s height gave him too much of an advantage. He
finished several seconds before Val, who slowed to a jog and walked
up to Mr. Sharp as Porter struck up a conversation with him.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” the
coach was saying. “She could use the extra practice.”

“What’s that?” Val asked, panting
slightly.

Mr. Sharp pointed a football at her, “Porter
suggested I let you two take this period to work on your
passing.”

“Oh, ok? Do I get a say in this?”

“Nope,” Porter joked, “You need some
one-on-one instruction, and besides, the rest of the class is gonna
be learning how to hike the ball. Do you really want to have to do
that?”

“Um—“
I guess not,
“No, not
really.”

Mr. Sharp sighed, “Pity for you,
Porter.”

“Huh?” Val shot the teacher a confused look;
he whispered something to Porter she couldn’t hear. “What did you
say?” Porter was laughing uproariously.

“Nothing,” Porter assured once he was back
in control of himself, “So, let’s go over there so we don’t get in
anyone’s way,” he grabbed a football from the bag and led the way
to the far end of the field; a couple of their classmates hadn’t
finished the pre-class jog. “What you need to know about throwing a
football, is that it’s not about how hard you throw it. It’s—“

“It’s not?” Val interrupted.

“Nope. Think about it—you could throw the
hardest pass ever, but if it doesn’t get where it needs to go,
what’s the use?”

Val shrugged, “I guess that’s a good
point.”

“When I watched you passing last time, you
were flailing around a lot,” Porter continued, “Which I think was
because you were trying too hard to throw a really hard pass. I’m
gonna stand a few feet away, and I want you to pass the ball to me
without worrying how hard you throw it. Just get it to me.” He took
five steps away and turned around.

Val did her best to throw the ball according
to Porter’s instructions; she lightly tossed the ball towards him,
without any flailing or excess theatrics—the ball fell to the
ground only a few feet from her.

Porter laughed, “You need a bit more power
than that.”

Val’s cheeks reddened; from across the
field, Mr. Sharp yelled, “Good try!” The entire class turned to see
what he was commenting on, making Val even more embarrassed.

“Here, try again.” Porter retrieved the
football and tossed it to Val. “Add a little more power than that;
you had the right idea, just not quite enough zip.” He backed away,
and gestured for Val to try another pass.

She tried to remember the motion she’d just
used, and repeated it faster. To her surprise, the football
launched toward Porter; he stuck out a hand and caught it. Val gave
a quick whoop, and thrust both hands in the air in celebration.

“Good job,” Porter said, “It wasn’t the best
pass I’ve ever seen, but—“

“Don’t take this away from me,” Val giggled,
“I’m gonna be the next big quarterback.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Porter smiled; he
set the football down and hoisted Val into the air.

“What are you doing?” Val asked in a
panic.

“Victory lap,” Porter replied as he started
to jog around the field, still holding Val. It wasn’t very
comfortable, but Val had to admit he had an entertaining sense of
humor.

Porter let her down on the far end of the
field, “Sorry, you’re heavy.”

Val huffed, “First you tell me I’m anorexic,
and then you say I’m heavy. I probably only weigh like half of what
you do.”

“I doubt it,” Porter’s expression matched
the sentiment, “How much do you weigh?”

“Like a hundred, one-oh-five.”

Porter whistled, “You’re a small little
thing.”

“I’m not a ‘thing’,” Val assumed an angry
expression.

“You’re right,” Porter nodded, “Anyway,
let’s get back to it.”

They spent the rest of the period passing
the football back and forth; by the end of class Val was beginning
to understand why some people might see football as fun. It was
certainly more interesting passing the ball back and forth when the
passes tended to go where they were supposed to; Val had a couple
that fell straight to the ground, but other than that she noticed a
definite improvement.

Lunch came quickly, with
the next two periods seeming to rush by; Val spent them trying to
figure out Porter’s behavior.
It’s almost
like he’s flirting with me,
she thought,
and wasn’t sure how she would feel about that if it were the case.
Val was planning on sitting with the Trio, despite what had
transpired yesterday, when she saw Aiden and Noah sitting by
themselves in a corner.

Neither of the boys looked up when Val
approached; she cleared her throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Aiden replied cautiously. A few
awkward seconds of silence passed; “Aren’t you afraid to be seen
with us or something?”

“No, of course not,” Val glanced at the
wall, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for Alex. He can be mean
sometimes, but he’s really a nice person.”

Aiden laughed, “Right. I’m sure he’s got a
heart of gold. You know, when he’s not busy enforcing the pecking
order as he sees it.”

Val crossed to the side of the table
opposite the pair and sat down, “Yeah, I know he hasn’t exactly
been the nicest to you, but he’s always been nice to me—“ She
defended.

Noah whispered something Val didn’t quite
catch; “I’m sorry?” she said.

Aiden looked back from Noah to Val, “Sorry,
I’m not gonna repeat it.”

In a rare display of courage, Noah locked
eyes with Val and spoke audibly, “I said he’s nice to you because
you have tits.”

Val’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

Noah seemed to have exhausted his courage;
he blushed and looked at the floor.