Hell's Belles (10 page)

“Look at the bright side,” said Dad, snapping on the turn signal. “You're halfway there if you decide to be Frankenstein for Halloween.”

Annie would have laughed, but the mention of Halloween made her think of the dance, which made her think of Tyler, which made her . . .

Miserable!

Dad stopped at a traffic light and reached over the driver's seat to hand Annie a sheet of paper. “Dr. Borden gave me this,” he said. “It describes what you need to do for the next few weeks.”

Annie glanced at the neatly typed list. It went over the standard instructions for taking painkillers as needed and using crutches to get around. Then there was a section headed in bold capital letters: “RICE.”

“So what does the good doctor prescribe?” asked Dad, turning left when the light changed to green.

“Rice,” said Annie.

“Rice?” Dad frowned. “Weird. Well, then maybe we should stop at Panda Garden on the way home. I actually wouldn't mind some General Tso's chicken.”

“Not actual rice,” grumbled Annie. Although a spring roll and some hot and sour soup sounded pretty good. “It's an acronym for rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“Ah. Sounds effective.” Dad shot her a grin. “Although nowhere near as appetizing as General Tso's.”

In spite of her mood, Annie laughed. “Fine, then. Panda Garden it is.” She eyed the plastic boot. “But do you mind if we get it to go? I really don't feel like stomping around in public in this hideous thing.”

“Done and done,” said Dad, turning in the direction of the Chinese restaurant.

The thought of a delicious meal cheered Annie somewhat. She loved Asian food, but for her, the best part was the fortune cookies. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what wisdom the little white slip of paper might offer her tonight:

She who skates in anger fast, ends up in a plastic cast.

Annie was just finishing her second helping of vegetable fried rice when the doorbell rang.

“I'll get it,” Dad said.

But Annie was already reaching for her crutches. “Let me,” she said. “I've got to get used to these stupid things.”

She adjusted the rubber tops of the crutches under her arms and began the slow, wobbly drag to the front door. When she opened it, her breath caught.

Flowers! Lots of them, wrapped in pretty tissue and a big yellow bow.

And peeking out from behind the enormous bouquet were a pair of familiar blue eyes. “Jesse!”

“Hey, Annie.” Jesse stepped into the hallway, handed her the flowers, and gave her a lopsided smile. “How's the ankle? What did the doctor say?”

“Bad sprain,” she murmured, bringing the bouquet to her face and breathing deeply. “No big deal, except I'll be in this awful boot for two weeks.”

“Oh, man.” Jesse gave her a sympathetic look. “That really sucks. So you won't be able to skate?”

Annie shook her head and inhaled again. She'd never been given flowers from a boy before, and she had to admit, it was nice.

“Does it hurt?”

Annie was so busy admiring the cheerful mix of daisies, roses, and tulips that for a second, she forgot all about the dull ache in her ankle. “Yes, but icing it helps a lot.”

“Yeah. That'll keep the swelling down.”

Dad appeared in the hallway, holding a Chinese food container. “Hi, Jesse!” When he spotted the gigantic bouquet, he looked almost as impressed as Annie. “Can I interest you in some crispy beef and broccoli?” he offered. “We've got plenty.”

“No, thank you,” said Jesse. “I've already eaten.”

Dad's eyes went from Jesse to the flowers to Annie. He had a goofy grin on his face when he said, “Uh, I should probably go find a vase.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Annie already knew where she was going to put them — on her bedside table so she could fall asleep admiring them and see them the minute she woke up in the morning. “Jesse, these are the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen. Thank you so much!”

“Uh, well —”

“You're really very sweet to think of this,” she said softly. Annie was debating whether it would be weird to give him a kiss on the cheek. They were friends, after all, and this was such a thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, between her armful of flowers and her unwieldy crutches, there was really no graceful way to do it. If she leaned toward him she'd probably fall and sprain her other ankle. And maybe one of his in the bargain.

“You're welcome,” said Jesse, looking uncomfortable. “But . . . they aren't exactly from me.”

Annie blinked. “Huh?”

“The whole team chipped in for them. See?” He reached into his pocket and handed her a little card:

Get well, Anne R. Key! Love, Coach Ritter and the Liberty Belles

“I have to go by your street on my way home,” Jesse explained. “So I volunteered to drop them off.”

“Oh.” Annie wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.
Why couldn't I have sprained my jaw instead?
she thought.
Then I wouldn't have been able to open my mouth and humiliate myself.
She was sure her face was pinker than Holly's favorite fishnets.

“Well, that was nice of you. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

They stood there, with Annie feeling like a colossal idiot, for what seemed like a thousand years.

“I, um, I guess I should, er, get these into some water,” Annie stammered at last.

“Right,” said Jesse. “Well, take it easy on that ankle. I'll see you at school tomorrow.”

And then, to Annie's great relief, he left.

Dad returned with the vase just as the door closed behind Jesse. He was just opening his mouth to comment, but Annie spoke first. “They're not from him. They're from the Belles.”

“Oh.” Dad looked genuinely disappointed. “Well, then I guess I can call Westminster Abbey and tell them we
won't
be needing that date I just booked for your wedding?”

Annie laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah. Tell them my engagement's off, so if Prince Harry's looking for a girlfriend, I'm still totally available.”

“Not a chance,” said Dad, taking the bouquet so that Annie could hobble back toward the kitchen. “If you married a prince you'd have to move back to England and I'd miss you way too much. Speaking of England,” he continued, “I'm going to call your mum now and let her know what happened.”

“No!” Annie cried out. She knew Mum would somehow blame Dad for Annie's injury. She didn't want to subject him to the inevitable argument. “I'll call her myself.”

“Well, don't put it off — she's your mother and she deserves to know,” Dad said, giving her a serious look.

“I'll tell her,” Annie promised.

But not tonight. She'd had more than enough drama for one day.

The next few days were a challenge.

The discomfort in her ankle kept Annie awake most of the night, since every little twist or turn made the injury ache. And although Annie wasn't exactly a fashionista, the ugly gray plastic boot clashed with pretty much everything in her wardrobe. As far as accessories went, crutches were the worst. After five days of use, the skin under her arms was rubbed raw from leaning on her crutches.

The good news was that she wasn't in it alone. In addition to Lexie, every Liberty Belle who attended Liberty Heights High made it her business to be available to help Annie get around school with as little difficulty as possible.

“You know I only volunteered to help you hobble around because it gets me out of class five minutes early, right?” Lexie's hazel eyes sparkled as she stuffed Annie's backpack into the locker and dug around for
Wuthering Heights.

“Oh, I know.” Annie leaned on her crutches and smiled. “In fact, the whole reason I injured myself was so that you could skip out of classes early.”

Lexie laughed. “That's what I call a true friend. And if you ever need me to break an arm or crack a rib on your behalf, I'll be happy to do it.”

Annie shook her head. “Don't even joke about that,” she said in a serious voice. “This may only be a sprain, but it hurts like crazy. Not to mention all the inconvenience.”

“Speaking of that,” said Lexie with a sly grin. “Here comes your next escort, right on schedule.”

Annie turned to see Jesse walking down the hallway. She felt a wave of embarrassment remembering the whole awkward flower incident, but it didn't last. He was her friend, and silly things like that didn't matter between friends.

She couldn't help but notice how cool he looked in a faded Dead Kennedys T-shirt. His eyes were the same blue as the distressed denim of his baggy jeans.

“Inconvenience never looked so good, huh?” teased Lexie.

“Stop it,” Annie whispered, a faint blush on her cheeks. “It's only Jesse.”

Lexie gave a slow, appreciative nod. “Yes, it is.”

“Lex! Cut it out. He's just a friend.”

“Right.” Lexie rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Jesse arrived and gave them a solemn look. “I just want you to know that I'm missing five minutes of a very important lecture on the trade policies of the Roosevelt era,” he announced in a serious voice. Then he flashed a huge smile at Annie. “So basically, I owe you big time!”

Lexie giggled and handed him Annie's English notebook and the Brontë novel. Then she flounced off to catch up with a few of her arty friends from manga club before class.

Annie felt even clumsier than usual, planting and hopping her way down the hall beside Jesse. The rubber tips of her crutches squeaked on the polished floors.

“You haven't been around the rink much,” Jesse observed, holding the door at the end of the hall open and waiting for her to hobble through.

“What would be the point?” Annie said, sighing. “I can't skate.”

“No, but you could still hang out. You could ref scrimmages, or keep score, or just cheer your teammates on.”

Annie stopped hobbling and looked at him. It had never occurred to her to show up at the rink and watch practice. Instead, she'd been sitting home on the sofa, icing her ankle, and sulking.

“You're absolutely right, Jess. I guess I thought it would be too depressing to be there and not be able to skate, but it sounds like I could actually be useful.” She shook her head. “I'm such an idiot for not realizing it myself.”

They arrived at her English classroom just as the bell rang. Annie pressed herself against the lockers while a flood of students gushed into the hall. When the room was empty, she hopped inside and went to her desk. Jesse followed, placed her books on the desk, and then held her crutches while she arranged herself in the seat. Her foot stuck out in the aisle, but there was really nowhere else for her to put it.

Jesse went to prop the crutches against the back wall of the room. Then, to Annie's surprise, he came back and sat, facing her, on top of the desk in front of her.

Tyler's desk.

“I hope I didn't sound like a jerk about you missing practice,” he said, looking guilty. “I just thought it would be better for you to be there, keeping busy, than home all alone. Besides, the team really misses you.” He paused. “And, ya know . . . I guess
I
—”

“Dude. You're on my desk.”

Annie looked up to see Tyler standing behind Jesse, and he didn't look happy. Annie hadn't even noticed him come in. Strange, as usually she was aware of his presence the minute he came within a hundred feet of her, like she had some sort of built-in tracking device.

But just then, she'd been too involved in what Jesse had been saying.

And what
had
Jesse been saying? That her teammates missed her. And that
he
. . . He
what?

“Go ahead, Jesse,” she blurted out. “Finish what you were going to say.”

“It was nothing,” said Jesse, shaking his head and sliding off the desk. Then he stepped aside so that Tyler could take his seat.