Inspiration 21

http://goo.gl/1eLv66

Oh, the lies and deceptions mount. As do the attractions and temptations. How far will they have to go? Who will get hurt? Who might find love?

On stormy afternoons, the football players worked out while the basketball players and soccer players shared the gym and ran drills. Cherie Reynolds both loathed and loved indoor practices. She hated the little pansy drills, but she loved the down time to chat with her cousin, Lydia Gautier, who was a freshman, and her best friend, Setera Marceau, another sophomore. The girls also spent time flirting with the male athletes during indoor practices.

On this rainy afternoon, the topic of conversation was the new boy. "He is hot!" observed Setera. "Smart too. He's in my algebra II class. He gets all the answers right. Darren McAlpin calls him a suck-up."

"Yeah," agreed Cherie. "He's cute, but I don't like the company he keeps. He's gravitating to the skinheads. Momma told Daddy she's afraid he's trouble waiting to happen. His dad works offshore, and his mom's dead. Nobody supervises him while his dad's at work." She stopped long enough to look toward the boys who were taking shots at the basketball goal. "I overheard Daddy telling Parker he thinks the skinheads are part of the same group Kyle got mixed up with once, and they're responsible for the attacks on minority businesses and could even be trafficking drugs."

Satera shook her head at Cherie. "My dad's a detective too. He would skin me if he caught me eavesdropping like you do."

Cherie shrugged. "Daddy would like to get an undercover cop in, but he doesn't have anyone young enough."

Lydia said innocently, "Maybe he just likes his hair short. He's too cute to be a criminal."

"I hope," said Cherie. "You know, Daddy worries Uncle Raif could be a target because Dupree's his son-in-law. These people don't like anybody who's not white. Remember Darrell McAlpin?"

The other two girls nodded.

"Daddy's white," said Lydia.

"I know, but Lindsay married a black man, and three of Uncle Raif's grandkids are bi-racial."

"That's so closed-minded," said Lydia. "Dupree's a good person." She pointed toward a bald boy talking to Scott. "Better than people like that."

"I agree, and Roxanne, Lucy, and Marley are the best. Heck though, even Setera could be a target."

"Why?" asked Setera. "What did I do?"

"You have a Native American grandmother."

"That's crazy."

"I agree," concurred Cherie.

The coach blew her whistle. "Girls! Some give-and-goes! Now! Stop gossiping and make a triangle."

Cherie, Lydia, and Setera started their drill. The ball got past Cherie and rolled into the boys' basketball quadrant. Scott snagged it, dribbled it, and slam dunked it.

Cherie snatched the ball from under the net. "Give me the ball, asshole!"

"Whoa! What did I do to you?" asked Scott, backing up with his hands raised.

"You dribbled my soccer ball. How would you like me to kick your little basketball?"

"Basketballs aren't for kicking."

"And soccer balls aren't for dribbling on a court. Only with the feet. Like this." Cherie showed off her foot skills as she dribbled back to her quadrant of the gym.

"What's the matter, Ball?" taunted the bald guy Lydia had indicated earlier. "Ain't got the balls to take that one?"

"She's got a temper," said Scott.

"Yeah, but she's hot!" said the other boy running toward Scott. "Too bad her momma's the principal and her daddy's a cop."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A real badass, Raiford Reynolds. He's sort of a legend around here. Her brother's a cop, too. My oldest brother had a fight with him when they were still kids. Father and son are partners." The boy watched the girls in their drill. "Her daddy used to be chief of police. He retired but came back to work. Couldn't be idle. Mrs. LaFontaine is her sister. Mr. LaFontaine used to be one of us. Wussed out. When's practice gonna be over? We have a meeting."

"Don't know. I'm trying to make starting center for next season. That's kind of important, or would you rather have the nigger do it? It should only be about half an hour longer. Just chill and wait, Darren. We won't miss the meeting."

Finally, practice was over. Scott held up a finger to Darren McAlpin. He called, "Hey, Cherie."

"What?" Cherie asked.

"Sorry I bounced the ball. I think I might get starting center though. Can we start over? I'm new here. I need friends."

"Like that?" Cherie pointed to the boy who waited on the bleachers.

"What's wrong with McAlpin?"

"He's trash. If you want to be friends with me, you won't hang out with trash."

"Aren't you being a little judgmental?"

"Maybe, but his group is bad news."

"So, rescue me. How about a date?"

"I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, Justin, right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think your momma approves of him. After all, he wasn't invited to dinner."

"My momma doesn't approve of skin-heads either."

"Whatever. I think you'll change your tune before I graduate. I don't give up easily."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Grow your hair back out. Oh, good luck on making center. I'm already center-mid." Cherie disappeared into the girls' locker room.

Scott stared after her. He shrugged and joined Darren McAlpin without a shower.

Cover by Christopher Chambers.

The three "sirens" and the two "bad boys": Cherie, Lydia, Satera, Scott, Darrren