Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,10

of girls do. Once I walked into the girls’ bathroom on a day Tina had really dressed up, in a new emerald blouse and dark green bell-bottoms, and two girls who were always fawning over her in public were talking about her. “Who does Tina think she is? It’s school, not a fashion show.” “Well, she’s not happy unless she’s showing off.” When I came out of my stall, they shut up, and I said, “You were saying?” and drew a line between them and me with the edge in my voice, even as I wished I could say something more cutting. Later, they came up to Tina in the cafeteria like a two-headed monster and said, “Love your outfit,” in a really phony way. But Tina handles catty girls better than me. She’ll say something like “Did you pick out that blouse yourself? Oh, interesting . . .” and it will sound like a compliment until you realize she didn’t say anything positive. She’s basically a genius.

We found Candace standing off to the side, retucking her white T-shirt into her denim cutoffs. She looked pinched and tense, and I realized her boobs looked different.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” I asked her.

“I taped them,” she said. “My brothers said it would hurt if I had to run and I was only wearing a bra. I really hope we don’t have to run.”

“Taped them?” Tina asked. “And that’s less painful?”

Candace put a palm over each of her boobs and shifted them. “I didn’t ask for these,” she said. “But they’re my responsibility.”

“For once, I’m happy to be flat,” I said.

“No you’re not,” Candace said.

I flipped her off, because it was true.

“What is Lynn wearing?” Tina used her chin to subtly gesture to Lynn Bandis, who was so built that rumors had gone around school that she’d signed a contract with Hugh Hefner to be a centerfold in Playboy as soon as she turned eighteen. She had on some gold shorts that looked like they had been spray-painted onto her body, and a crop top that exposed most of her torso as she did graceful stretches. Compared to her and Tina, I probably looked like the squat round Kewpie doll my dad had won for me at a carnival once. I’d thrown it away because it gave me nightmares.

“More than she has to,” Candace said. “Girl could walk around naked and no one would be upset about it.”

“It seems unfair,” I said, watching as Lynn touched her toes. Her best friend, Marie Quinn, who was wearing shorts similar to mine with a tight red T-shirt, mirrored her stretch. Marie wasn’t as pretty as Lynn, but boys liked her almost equally. They seemed like a set, Lynn and Marie, but where Lynn could be aloof, even icy, Marie had a quick sense of humor and never seemed tongue-tied around guys. “I don’t think Lynn ever went through an awkward stage. She was just born like that.”

“That had to be weird for her mom,” Tina joked.

“You look cute,” Candace said, snapping the waistband of my shorts. “Your butt is as nice as hers, if that’s how Mr. McMann is picking the team.”

“Bobby wouldn’t do that,” I scolded her, in the same grave tone I used with Randy, a seven-year-old monster I babysat.

“So it’s Bobby now?” Tina asked.

“Yes. And he’s not like that.” As I said it, I realized how much I wanted it to be true. Because if he was like that, what if the butts he picked didn’t include mine?

For all I or anyone knew, Coach McMann could have been some kind of hyperattractive psychopath. But even though he’d made me think some really unwholesome thoughts, the more I thought about him, the more I believed he was wholesome, like a sexy Mister Rogers.

“Oh God, Susan, you’re hot for a teacher,” Tina said.

“Like you’re not here for the same reason,” I said.

“Sure, it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot, but I really think it’ll be fun,” Tina said. “Especially since I knew you’d end up here, too, the way you were undressing him with your eyes.”

We were all so busy giving each other shit and sizing one another up that we almost didn’t notice Coach McMann had arrived. Without saying anything to us, he set his equipment bag down on a bench and began walking across the field. His face was set in a puzzled frown; he seemed to be surveying the park as if he might be able to flip it over