Make Her Smile

Chapter 5; Loser.

The dodgeball just didn't feel right resting in her hands. The ball felt as if it were never supposed to be there, as she was incapable of doing anything with the ball in any case. The ball was foreign to her; it didn't set right, and it didn't fit right in her hand, as to be used as a sort of weapon.

A weapon, Kate thought, snorting. I don't think so.

James, on the other hand, felt like the ball belonged there. It remained in his right palm, just as a football would. It was almost like his hand was built around a ball, so that it fit just right. He gripped the ball, and aimed it at the last male on the opposing team.

"David, you fool!" James shouted at his friend. "I can't believe you couldn't dodge that!"

"I know, I know!" he laughed, hunching his shoulders over and walking towards the players who were currently out. "It was a light toss, too! I should have caught it!"

"But you didn't," James laughed back.

David kicked up his leg in anger, earning a few giggles from his teammates.

James picked up another ball that had accidentally rolled onto his side from the other. It was warm in his hand, as if it were just held by someone else. He glanced up at David, knowing instantly it was his. David grinned at the boy, and motioned towards the last player left on his own team.

"Kick her xss," he mouthed to James.

He smirked inwardly, and turned his eyes to the girl who stared back at him with a blank stare. Her face was as blank page, a clean slate. Dimmed eyes were filled with nothing at all, and her face was pale. Her hair was flat, all but a few flyaways that were cast out in a few directions near her forehead. Shoulders were hunched, and a ball was clutched limply in her hand.

She looked pitiful.

James' mind went blank, and he forgot he was even playing the game. His team was screaming at him to throw the ball at the girl and be done with it, but he let them become silenced in his ears. All he could hear was his heartbeat pulsing loudly, or so it seemed. His body was numb; he couldn't feel a thing, and he was just like a body that had just had the life sucked completely out of it. His own eyes took on a glazed appearance, and it surprised him. In the back of his mind, it surprised him, though he didn't know it because he felt nothing but silence.

The girl smiled at him shyly.

James wanted to return it. But he just couldn't.

"C'mon, Jimmy!" one of the girls on his team screeched. "Hit her right in the face!"

This, however small an outburst it was, was just enough to snap him out of it. The ball in his hand was tight in it once more. He remembered what he was supposed to do. He remembered who he was supposed to eliminate.

He took a few steps towards Kate; the ball flew from his hands and in an instant, the game was over.

The ball in Kate's hand fell out of it, and a small, muted cry escaped her lips. "Ah," she said, her hand reaching up to caress her left cheek; it didn't hurt at first, but then the shock set in and it hurt more than the actual pain did. The rubber ball had caused her physical pain as well, but the mental pain she felt overpowered it in that one moment.

"Class is over," the substitute said, blowing his whistle. "Let's go, everyone."

A small cheer rang out through the gymnasium, students applauding James and bragging to the other team that they had won the match. Smiles were shown all around.

"Good job, Jimmy," David told him on his way out the door, towards the boy's locker room.

"Thanks," he replied. But he didn't really mean it.

His eyes darted around him, searching for those blonde, identifiable highlights that he knew so well. His heart was pounding through his chest as his vision settled on the girl who had lost the opposing team the game. She wiped her eyes; it must have hurt harder than James had thought.

She was lagging behind all of the other students, who were already out of the gym and taking showers. Her legs were short, and she had a slow pace. James had a fast pace, but he slowed it down so that he could observe what was going on.

"Hey," the substitute called to Kate.

She turned slightly toward him.

"Are you all right?" he asked; he sounded pretty concerned. "That last hit looked like it hurt pretty badly."

"I'm okay," she said, sniffing, and turning back around with a small wave as she pushed open the doors and walked out of the room.

James wondered if she really was.

Kate walked into the locker room and walked over to one of the showers, where she began to strip down into nothing. As she unclipped her bra, she overheard a few other girls talking from a few feet away from her.

"Can you believe her?" one asked, motioning towards Kate. "She so wore the same bra two days in a row. That is so gross."

"I know; what a complete loser. Is she, like, too poor to buy another one? Ugh. What a loser."

Kate took off her bra and stared down at it in her hands. After a moment, she put it into the pile of her other clothes and turned on the shower. Soft, warm rain washed down on her, pouring down her face in smooth currents that felt like rivers. For that, she was thankful; no one could tell that a tear had slipped its way out.

"Hey, come on, Jimmy," David called to him, turning around as he reached the bottom of the steps outside the gym's entrance. "It's time to go home; man, I'm so glad the day's over. I think I'm gonna pass out, or something. This is going ta sound kind of weird, but I think I need a nap--"

"Hey, Dave?"

David paused. "Yeah?"

"I can't take you home today," James told him, almost a little nervously. He scratched the back of his neck, and averted his gaze. "I've got to meet with Mrs. Irving after school. About my grades."

"Ouch," David winced. "That sucks."

"Yeah, I know," James said.

David sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "All right, I guess I'll just get a ride home with Kyle, or something."

"Okay, I'll see you later, then."

"Yep." David waved to his friend, and walked quickly towards the parking lot. "I just hope he's still here," he muttered underneath his breath, willing his stride to go just a bit faster.

As David walked out of sight, James let out a long, well-deserved sigh. Running a hand through his hair, which was becoming a bit long for his taste, he took a seat down on the second step outside the building. He glanced behind him, checking to see if she was there yet, or not.

James had lied to David; he really didn't have to meet with a teacher after school. It was just something he had to tell his friend, so that he wouldn't have to wait with him to meet with . . . well, her. You see, James didn't feel bad about hitting her in the face with that cold, hard, rubber ball; it was just something that had happened without him even thinking twice about it. The ball had slipped out of his hand, and had hit her face-- of all places, James had thought-- and she'd been too close to tears for his comfort.

But what he was going to do was wait for her; he would at least give her that. Because somewhere, way, way deep down, he did feel kind of bad. But he shoved that thought into the very back of his mind so that the memory didn't even bother him in the slightest.

A few girls came out of the gym, and then two boys exited after them. Still, no sign of that girl. She was nowhere to be found.

James, after ten minutes of waiting, stood up and, with a light huff, began to walk off. He was a bit annoyed, to be perfectly honest; how slow could this girl possibly be? It was because of his annoyance that he had gotten up and started to leave, and even if she did come out, he wouldn't even look back at her. She'd had her chance for ten minutes, and that was all she was going to get.

And then, a door slammed.

The boy turned his head, though only slightly as to catch her out of the corner of his eye. Her face was pale, and her hand was cupped lightly on her cheek. She shifted her backpack from her left shoulder to her right, and sniffed once again. Her hoodie was tight around her middle, and it showed off that access fat that she had retained her entire life. Her eyes were steady on the pavement beneath her feet as she walked slowly down the steps.

James told himself he wouldn't wait up for her, but he did anyways.

She looked up at him after meeting him at the foot of the stairs, and for the first time that day, her eyes weren't cloudy or misted. They were bright, full, intoxicating. James almost stepped backwards, but he caught himself.

"Does it hurt?" he asked after a moment, pointing to her cheek. Both of them were very, very still.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It was worse at first. I think I'm okay now." The hand that was on her cheek fell down at her waist, where it was supposed to be, exposing a patch of red, puffy skin. It looked as if it had been burnt in some way, and James nearly cringed.

"Oh, man," he said in a slightly hushed tone, "I'm really sorry about that."

"It's all right," she told him. It sounded genuine. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her gaze back to her shoes; they were white beneath a thin coat of mud.

"So, I just wanted to let you know that I didn't mean to hit you so hard; it just sort of happened, and--"

"It's okay," she repeated. "I don't mind."

Maybe it was just James, but he didn't feel that what she had said was as truthful as what had been said before.

"Do you, um, need a ride home?" he asked. He sounded unsure of himself. He coughed, and tried it again. "My car's just parked back there, if you did need one. If you don't, that's fine, too." There, he thought, better.

"Actually," she said, "um, my friend's giving me a ride home. But thanks." She turned away from him and started walking towards the parking lot.

She was probably fifteen feet away when James called, "Kate, I'm sorry!"

Kate turned back around to face him, and gave a small, sort of forced smile, and a sort of forced wave. Then she turned back around and kept walking away until she turned a corner and disappeared.

James was stunned; what had just happened? He had been turned down by one of the most unrecognized girls in his school, by one of the most boring girls. Things like that didn't happen to James, whether the girl was popular or unpopular; people loved him. People loved James. So why didn't this girl? This one, insignificant girl that didn't matter to anyone now mattered to James because of the mere fact that she was different. Different in a bad or good way, he couldn't comprehend at the moment. But all that mattered was that Kate, however normal she might seem, was far from it.

By definition, she was the most average girl in the school, possibly the state, for all he knew. But, in all actuality, she was . . . abnormal. She was elusive, and it scared James.

But, of course, he wouldn't let anyone know that. Not even himself.

"Hey, Kate!" Laura called. "I've been waiting for fifteen minutes! Where were you?"

"Just talking with someone," Kate replied, her eyes glued to her feet as she stepped slowly towards Laura's car. "Sorry it took me so long."

"Well, okay," she said after a moment, "but just don't let it happen again. I don't like waiting, you know."

"I know," Kate told her. Her eyes were sad as she opened up the passenger's side door and let herself inside. She looked so downcast, and she felt it, too. She folded her hands in her lap and gripped each of them so tightly together that she couldn't cry. She wouldn't let herself; she'd already cried over James once, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of doing it again. She had made a promise to herself that she wouldn't.

As much as she wanted to, she wouldn't. She would never let herself show her feelings in front of anyone ever again.