Chapter Two
Elise Fulton approached. Her kinky dark hair jutted out in every direction. She wore a black skirt, a pink shirt, and pink leggings, with high heels.
"Hey, what's up?" Elise said. The locker popped open. Noticing her friend Lucile smiled.
"Hey, girlie."
"Are you excited about the play on Friday?" Elise asked.
"I was excited until I found out my Dad will be there," Lucille admitted.
"What's wrong with that?" Elise asked.
"He makes me nervous. "He's all about sports and he couldn't care less about the theater," Lucille said.
"I'm afraid he'll show up with a foam finger, be painted up in our school colors, and start chanting," Here we go, Lucille. " Here we go," I'm sure it won't be as bad as you're thinking," Elise said.
"I hope you're right," stated Lucille.
They parted ways and headed to their respective home rooms. The usual silence of the early morning filled Mr. Baker's room. The teacher Mr. Baker, with broad shoulders and a stern expression on his face, read a romance novel. The principal's voice came over the PA system.
"Good morning Ravens," began Principal Weaver. "As many of you know, our girls' basketball team will be battling those Youngstown Billy Goats for a Conference Championship and a playoff berth. The game is at Youngstown at 7:30 pm this Friday. Also on Friday at 7:30 pm, the Drama Club will be performing their rendition of The Tell-Tale Heart. Also, we're having fish sticks for lunch.
That concludes our morning announcements."
The bell rang and the day began. At lunch time the cafeteria was all a buzz with basketball fever. Banners cheering the team on hung from the ceilings. The word on almost everyone's lips involved tonight's game, except members of the drama club and a couple of sports-hating nerds, seated alone at the table removed from the rest of the students. They compared Calculus scores and wore pocket protectors. They each had a swirly apiece waiting for them after lunch, promptly to be administered to them by the school hood, Travis Wolfe. The drama club had its little meeting table; there were six of them including Lucille and Elise. Four of the six wore black turtlenecks and the heavy-set girl Rose, wore mime make-up. She mimed her words, never speaking.
One girl was tall and thin; her nose was long and pointy. When she laughed it sounded like the neighing of a horse. Her name was Colleen.
"Can you believe the school is going so batty over a stupid basketball game?" Colleen asked.
"I don't know if I'd call it stupid," said Lucille. Colleen looked at Lucille.
You hate basketball," Colleen said.
"I don't hate it," protested Lucille.
"Are you becoming a basketball sympathizer all of a sudden?" Colleen asked.
"No," said Lucille. "She's still my sister."
"That's nothing to brag about," Colleen stated. "She's a snob and is probably a slut to boot!" Lucille's cheeks grew hot; she clenched her fists. Her blood boiled as the cliché went. Then Lucille socked Colleen in the eye. Dalia noticed the scene from an adjacent table and said nothing.
Later Colleen and Lucille were dragged into the principal's office. Bob sat in a chair next to his wife. Principal Weaver leaned against the desk.
"What possessed you to attack a fellow member of the drama club?"
"She was insulting my sister!" Lucille explained.
"I am afraid that I will have to suspend you for three days and you will not be able to perform in the school play this Friday," Principal Weaver told her.
"That's not fair!" Lucille protested as her cheeks burned and her eyes filled with tears.
Principal Weaver shrugged.
"I'm afraid I don't have any other option."
On the way home while Bob drove, he looked at his daughter in the rearview mirror.
"I'm sorry you don't get to perform in your play but I am proud of you for sticking up for your sister." Later that night, Lucille was reading when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
"Come in," Lucille called out. It was Dalia.
"Hey," Dalia said. Lucille put down her book.
"Mom and Dad told me you were sticking up for me today," Dalia said. "Thanks."
"No problem," Lucille said.
"I didn't think you liked me," Dalia admitted.
"We're twins," Lucille said. "Of course I like you; I love you. Looks like I can go to your game on Friday." Dalia shook her head.
"I'm not playing in the Championship game; I'm protesting your suspension. If you can't act in your play, then I'm not playing in the Championship."
"You don't have to do this," Lucille insisted. Dalia gave a half smile to her sister.
"I do have to do this," No, I do have to do this." The sisters hugged as tears rolled down Lucille's face. When they pulled away, Lucille noticed Dalia was a little misty-eyed.
"Are you crying?" Lucille asked.
"No!" Dalia lied. "I just got something in my eye. Since we've got nothing to do this Friday night, how about we go bowling and see a movie?"
"Sounds good," Lucille said. "How about we see something sporty?" Dalia shook her head.
"How about we go see a drama?"
The next day Dalia walked into Coach Molly's office, with her uniform folded neatly in hand.
"I will not be playing in the championship," Dalia said, placing the uniform neatly on Coach Molly's desk. "May I ask why?" Coach Molly inquired.
"I'm not going to play in a game when my sister is not allowed to star in the play," Dalia answered. "You're our leading rebounder and top defender; we need you in that game," Coach Molly pleaded.
"I've made up my mind," Dalia insisted. "I'm not playing.
"We're gonna miss you out there," Coach Molly said.
"If we make it to the playoffs, will you at least join us for that game?"
"Sure," Dalia said.
"See you in the playoffs," Coach Molly said.
Friday night came and Flo dropped her daughters off at the bowling alley. They rented shoes, picked out the right balls, and headed to their lane. Dalia entered their names while Lucille put on her shoes.
"How do you think the game is going?" Lucille asked. Dalia shrugged.
"Who cares? How do you think your play is going?"
"Who cares?" replied Lucille.
"You're up first," Dalia said. Lucille stood up to bowl. She bent her knees and threw the ball.
"Two much wrist action," Dalia offered. She got two consecutive gutter balls. Dalia got up to bowl. She got nine pins down on the first one and a spare on the second one thrown.
"You're a natural," Lucille told her. "I stink."
"Don't get discouraged," Dalia said. "Remember to keep your wrist up and straight, and to aim the ball toward the middle arrow." Lucille followed her sister's advice making the game more competitive. Although Dalia won both games they played, it was an enjoyable time for both girls.
"You had me nervous out there a few times," Dalia admitted.
"I had a great teacher," Lucille said.
The following Monday, Elise approached Lucille while Lucille was at her locker.
"Hey did you hear about the play?" Elise asked.
"No," answered Lucille.
"Colleen took your place and suffered from terrible hives as a result of stage fright," Elise answered.
"How did she take it?" Lucille asked.
"She's been trying to hide her face all day," Elise said.
"Oh, and did you hear about the principal?" Elise asked.
"No," Lucille replied.
"A bunch of students egged his car," Elise answered.
"Why did they do that?" Lucille questioned.
"Youngstown creamed our team so some of the students got together and retaliated. Because of Dalia not playing, they feel it cost them the Championship," Elise confessed. Lucille stifled laughter.
"They put sugar in his gas tank; they also punctured one of his tires," Elise continued.
"I bet he's on the warpath," Lucille said.
"Definitely," agreed Elise.
Homeroom was filled with chuckling and snickering until Dalia walked in there. Rachael, a teammate and former best friend of Dalia's, growled when Dalia tried to sit next to her.
"This seat's NOT for traders." Dalia pulled up an extra seat next to her sister. Lucille mouthed the words
"I'm sorry," expressing great sympathy with her eyes.
At lunchtime, Lucille looked all around for Dalia but she was nowhere to be found. Lucille noticed Colleen, eating alone, and slouched over in the corner. Lucille started to head over there, then decided against it. Lucille headed to the bathroom. She heard crying from one of the stalls. Lucille knocked.
"Hello? Dalia?" Lucille asked.
"Go away!" ordered Dalia.
"It's me, Lucille." The door swung open and Dalia wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders.
"I'm an outcast," Dalia sobbed.
"Everyone ignores me; no one will let me sit with them. I feel like a leper."
"I'm sorry this is happening to you," Lucille said. "I'm sure this will all smooth over in no time; you'll be back on the fast track to being popular again in no time."
"I don't think this is going to blow over anytime soon," Dalia lamented. "I don't think I'm going to play basketball next year; my heart's not in it."
"But you've got to," Lucille protested. "Basketball is your life." Then the bell rang. Dalia wiped tears away. "Got to get to class," she said. Lucille's heart sank; her sister was in this mess because of her. If she hadn't hit Colleen her sister would still be popular.