Punch Like a Girl Read online

  “Uh…it’s my hand.” I’m thrown off by how easy it was to get him to talk to me. “I slipped on the soap,” I lie. “Showering is a dangerous occupation.”

  “Did you hit your head too?” Carmen points to the cut above my ear. Obviously, my concealer is failing.

  “Uh, shaving accident,” I say.

  “Yeah?” Jamarlo links fingers with Carmen and tugs her closer. He glances up and down the hall as if he’s checking out who’s noticing them together.

  “Uh, yeah.” I’m glad he’s got a girlfriend, but he could at least pay attention to me when I’m trying to make up with him.

  Carmen cracks her gum. I don’t want to know where she stashed it when they were making out. “I never got why you shaved your head,” she says.

  Carmen can be tacky and insensitive, like when she told Alena that she would be pretty if she wore more makeup. I also blame Carmen for inviting Matt to her party. But I’ll endure her for Jamarlo.

  “Just a haircut that got out of hand,” I say.

  “Tori likes the tough-girl look.” Jamarlo grins, but his tone has a raw edge to it. “She thinks she can beat up guys twice her size.” He pretends to punch me.

  I pretend to duck. It’s our usual game, even if it feels a bit off. “Size doesn’t matter.” I keep my tone playful, teasing. “You should know that, Jamarlo.”

  Carmen laughs. Jamarlo loses his grin. I guess we’re not back to joking yet.

  “I’m kidding, Jamarlo.” I force a laugh too, but it sounds as if I’m choking.

  “I know that.” His dark eyes are on mine. He frowns.

  “Yeah, well,” I manage to say, “I’ve got to get to class. See you later.”

  He nods, still frowning.

  I duck into World History and head to the back of the room. What just happened? Jamarlo and I may be talking again, but we’re not okay.

  A few minutes later, Carmen enters the room and slides into a seat beside me. I wish she’d sit somewhere else, but I’m not that lucky.

  “Settle down, class.” Mr. Hadley pulls down the screen at the front of the room. “Today we’re going to talk about some of the key passive-resistance movements that occurred after 1945.”

  I usually like Mr. Hadley’s discussions, but today I’m hoping for a long movie so I can think about what happened with Jamarlo.

  Carmen leans over to me and whispers loud enough for others to hear, “So do you and Matt want to come over this weekend? Jamarlo and I are having a few couples to my place since my parents are away.”

  Hell, no.

  My throat goes dry. I swallow hard. “We broke up,” I say. Obviously, Jamarlo hasn’t been sharing info about me.

  Mr. Hadley sits on the edge of his desk. “The best-known movements are those led by Mahatma Gandhi in India, Martin Luther King Jr. in the United States and Nelson Mandela in South Africa. More recently, the 2011 Egyptian revolution used a campaign of civil resistance to overthrow President Hosni Mubarak.”

  “Yeah, but we can fix that.” Carmen winks. “Matt’s a nice guy.”

  Nice guy? My hands clench, but it hurts my sore fingers. I get a flash of our first date, when he took me to the Keg for dinner. Matt insisting on opening the car door for me. Matt raving about my gorgeous hair to the hostess, the waiter, anyone who would listen. Matt trying to order for me. Matt going on about how he’s going to be a vet—he adores animals too—and I could be his assistant. Then, I was flattered that he’d even noticed me. I didn’t know he thought he owned me.

  Mr. Hadley is still talking about nonviolent conflicts. “We’ll be watching a video called A Force More Powerful over the next few classes, but first I want to talk about how Gandhi resisted British rule. Who can tell me what they know about it?”

  As Mr. Hadley tries to extract answers from the class, Carmen starts whispering about how sexy Matt is and how she used to have a crush on him in middle school.

  “Anyway,” she continues, “Jamarlo really wants you to come. Alena and her new guy may be there. Maybe I can hook you up with someone else?”

  “No, thanks,” I say through gritted teeth. Is Alena with her physio guy now?

  Mr. Hadley appears in front of our desks.

  “I assume you girls are sharing your thoughts about Gandhi’s resistance movement?” He taps his pen against my unopened binder.

  A few people laugh.

  Carmen chomps on her gum and says nothing.

  I sink low in my seat. I like Mr. Hadley, so it feels rotten to be scolded by him.

  “I thought so. Pay attention, girls.” He wanders to the front of the room, explaining how Gandhi opposed the British by declaring a law unjust and then purposely breaking it, letting himself and his followers suffer arrest, physical abuse and even prison. “The idea was that, ultimately, the oppressors would get the message and do what’s right.”

  Yeah, sure. I snort.

  Because I’ve seen assholes suddenly change their ways so many times. In the meantime, more people get hurt. The way I see it, it’s not okay to sacrifice anyone.

  Mr. Hadley dims the lights and puts on the video. As I watch Gandhi’s nonviolent struggle, I can’t stop thinking about Matt, Neanderthal, Melody and Jordan. According to the video, violence is not the ultimate form of power.

  I wish that were true.

  After the video I’m left wondering, what if the oppressors never get the message?

  Sometimes you have to stop them, any way you can.

  BAiL

  to abandon a crappy situation

  After my shift at the shelter, I’m supposed to meet up with Alena at a bus stop in our neighborhood. Dad has this crazy idea that I can’t drive his car with a broken hand. We’re heading to soccer, me to watch and her to play, even with her sore knee. I’m not looking forward to sitting on the sidelines.

  The bus comes, but Alena doesn’t. When I phone her, it goes to voice mail. I wave the driver on and worry. I couldn’t find Alena at lunch either. Is she avoiding me?

  I sit in the shade of the nearest house to get out of the sun. The short grass prickles my bare legs, making them itch. My cast is hot. I phone Alena four more times. Her voice mail pisses me off. Maybe she forgot about me.

  Alena keeps me waiting ten more minutes. She arrives breathless, running with a hop and a skip to favor her strong leg, her soccer bag slung over her shoulder and a brace around her sore knee. Her hair is in a high ponytail, and her cheeks are flushed.

  “Sorry.” She smiles like she means it. “I got home late and I’ve been rushing ever since.”

  “What’s wrong with your phone?”

  “Nothing.” Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “I was on the phone with Daniel, the guy from physio, for an hour!”

  I can tell she’s bursting with news, but first I want to know if she’s been avoiding me.

  “Where were you at lunch?” I try to keep my voice light. “I looked for you in the caf and outside.”

  She squeezes my good arm. “I met Daniel at the burger place near Mill Pond.”

  “Oh,” I say, knowing how obsessed Alena can get when she’s into a guy.

  “It’s halfway between our schools. He goes to the Catholic school.”

  The same school Matt goes to.

  “I missed the whole afternoon. He bought some bread at a corner store and we went to Mill Pond Park to feed the geese. It was wonderful!”

  I open my mouth to rant about how bread is bad for geese, but I don’t want to start another fight. So I just say, “Well, you could have told me.” How long does it take to send a text?

  “I know. Sorry—again! I just forgot about everything. This guy is different than any other guy I’ve met. He’s… special. You know?” She tucks her arm into mine and beams. “My father is mad that I forgot to walk the dogs. Don’t you be mad at me too.” Alena has two pugs that stay locked up in the house until she comes home.

  “It’s all right,” I say, even though it isn’t. She hasn’t asked about my hand since the ho
spital.

  I’m about to tell her that Casey spoke to me for the first time yesterday, and that she’s still speaking today, but Alena starts going on about how glad she is that Jamarlo and I are talking again. “He and Carmen told me all about it! I hope this means you’re back to your old self again.”

  “Uh, sure,” I say, even though I’m not sure at all.

  “Good.” Alena checks the time on her phone. “Do you think we’ll be late for the game?” She peers down the street for the bus. “Daniel said he’d come to watch me play.”

  “That’s great.” I try to sound happy for her. It’s just that guys aren’t always who you think they are.

  “I might invite him to the anti-prom. Wouldn’t it be fun to go with someone—like on a date, I mean?”

  Not that I want to go, but she used to be begging me to go with her.

  “Yeah,” I say. “You’d have a great time.”

  I’m the only girl on my team not in uniform. The only girl not warming up.

  We arrive just as the Screamin’ Demons start running the perimeter of the field. Alena quickly introduces me to Daniel, blushing and giggling the whole time. Daniel is six feet tall and muscular, with wavy brown hair and stubble. Exactly Alena’s type.

  “What do you think?” she whispers when we leave to join our team.

  “He seems like a nice guy,” I say. He kept his eyes on my face—not like some guys, who talk to my chest.

  “I know!” She squeals and then hurries to catch up with the rest of our team.

  When they form a circle to do stretches, I wander over, trying not to think about how I’m letting them down.

  “Are you sure you can’t play?” a defender named Marla asks. Last game, she worked my left side, and she was good at digging the ball out of the corners and shooting it up the out-of-bounds line to the midfielders.

  “Sorry.” I shake my head, feeling worse.

  “We’re gonna get creamed.” Nong, our center-forward, scowls. “They’ve got twelve players so far.”

  I glance up the field, where the Green team is warming up. We usually have eleven players on each team, so they’ll have one substitute and we’ll have only ten players.

  “At least it’s not the Babes in Blue,” Alena says. I notice she doesn’t call them the Blue Bitches in front of everyone else.

  “We can hold our own.” The coach appears beside me—she’s just finished attaching the nets to the goalposts. “Just get to the ball first and shoot at the net.”

  No kidding, I think.

  I hang with the Screamin’ Demons while they take turns shooting at Alena in net. She only stops about half the balls because of her wounded knee and because she’s too busy smiling at Daniel on the sidelines, where he’s now sitting with Jamarlo and Carmen. Apparently, Carmen knows him, but she knows everyone.

  The ref blows the whistle. It’s a woman tonight, the one who rants against any jewelry, especially stud earrings.

  All the girls head onto the field. I go over to hang with Jamarlo, Carmen and Daniel. Even though I’m not sure where I stand with Jamarlo, it’s better than hanging with the coach while she yells useless advice. As the only Screamin’ Demon on the sidelines, I don’t need the reminder that I’m as useless as our coach.

  Under the shade of the trees, Jamarlo and Carmen lean against the chain-link fence with their legs entwined while Daniel sits upright beside Carmen, his eyes on Alena. They’re behind the row of parents, grandparents and younger siblings who line the field, shouting advice. Alena and I have discouraged our parents from coming.

  Jamarlo nods curtly as I approach, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.

  “Join the party,” Carmen says, her fingers hooked into his dreads.

  I perch next to Daniel, thinking I can at least make sure he’s good enough for Alena.

  As the game starts, Jamarlo and Carmen won’t stop talking about the anti-prom—apparently, Daniel hasn’t heard of it. Their talk is thick with innuendos about how he should ask Alena to go with him. They tell him that it’s being held at an underage club, Carmen is one of the organizers, it’s for grade elevens, and it only costs ten dollars to get in.

  They’re practically drooling with excitement, but it seems frivolous. Who cares if there’s going to be an alternative-fashion contest? They’re ignoring the soccer game in front of them. As I watch the goals pile up against the Screamin’ Demons, my guilt grows.

  When the anti-prom talk finally dies down, Carmen nods toward my cast. “Joel told me that you punched a Dumpster.” She gives me a sideways smile. “Is it true?”

  Jamarlo laughs. “I bet it is.”

  My face heats up. “You know my brother?” I ask Carmen.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” She giggles in a way that makes me not want to know what she’s done with Joel.

  Then everyone stares at my cast as if they’re contemplating my stupidity, waiting for me to explain or deny it.

  “Tori used to go out with Matt Bucknam,” Carmen tells Daniel. “From your school?”

  Blood rushes to my head. I want to stuff a sweaty soccer sock into Carmen’s big mouth.

  “You’re that Tori?” He looks skeptically at my shaved head. “He used to talk about your gorgeous hair.”

  “It’s even more gorgeous now,” I say. How do I stop this conversation?

  “He still raves about it, even after he broke up with you.” Daniel turns back to the game—and Alena.

  “I broke up with him,” I snap before I can stop myself. “Matt’s a liar!” What other lies is he spreading about me?

  Jamarlo gives me a sideways look.

  Daniel just keeps watching the game.

  “Whoa,” Carmen says. “Someone has issues.”

  I clench my jaw, remembering when I broke up with Matt. It was the week before Carmen’s party. Matt and I were watching a B-rated horror flick in the den. He grabbed my phone when it buzzed to see who was texting me.

  “Give it back!” I reached for it, tired of him checking up on me, nosing into my life, even telling me what to wear.

  Matt pushed me down on the couch. “What are you hiding?” His knee pressed into my groin. His eyes flamed.

  “Get the hell off me!” I yelled. Mom and Dad were out, and Joel was in his room with the music cranked.

  “You texting other guys?” He yanked my hair backward so that my shoulders arched off the couch. “What else are you doing with them?”

  I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Who was this monster?

  Then Joel’s footsteps sounded in the second-floor hallway. Matt let me up. He apologized like it was nothing. He called it an accident.

  I kicked Matt out of my house and my life. After that, I thought I could forget we ever went out.

  “Just so you know, Matt might drop by later with his new girl,” Daniel says. “She’s into soccer too.”

  “Good to know.” I nod. Then, as soon as I can, I make some excuse and bail. I want to avoid Matt and Melody, just step sideways out of my life and escape them, but they keep hounding me.

  As I leave, I send Alena a quick text. Sorry, I had to go. Somehow, she’ll have to understand.

  On the way home on the bus, I’m upset about everything that’s gone wrong today—Alena ditching me, Jamarlo ignoring me, Carmen gossiping about me with my brother, Matt and Melody threatening to show up.

  I find Joel sprawled on the leather couch in the den, watching men’s soccer, with a plate of cheese nachos perched on his stomach.

  “Why did you do it?” I yell.

  His eyes stay on the TV screen. “Do what?” He stuffs three nachos into his mouth at once.

  “Tell Carmen that I punched a Dumpster!”

  His eyes flick to me and then back to the screen. “You did punch a Dumpster.” He sounds puzzled.

  “I know! But you don’t need to tell people about it!” My brother may be able to solve math equations faster than I can, but his sensitivity skills are at rock bottom.

  “W
ho cares what they know? It’s not like you have anything to hide.” He turns up the volume.

  I leave the den wanting to hit something, but it’ll only hurt my good hand. When I head to my bedroom, Mom and Dad cut me off at the stairs.

  “What was the yelling about?” Dad crosses his arms and frowns. Beside him, Mom puts a hand on the railing, blocking my way.

  “Nothing. Joel is just being an idiot, as usual.” I wish he were leaving for university in September so I could have high school to myself.

  “You look upset again. What’s wrong now?” Mom asks.

  “I’m fine.” Everything is wrong, but I don’t want to talk about it.

  Mom and Dad exchange a look.

  “I just want to go to my room. I’m tired.”

  “That’s one of the things we’re worried about,” Mom says.

  Dad clears his throat. “Your mother and I want you to slow down a bit. Exams are soon, and you’re doing community service every day. It might be too much for you.”

  “You’re the one who made me do community service in the first place, and now you want me to stop?” I shake my head, amazed.

  “No.” The fine lines around my mother’s mouth deepen. “We want you to slow down.”

  I plant my good hand on my hip. “Well, you can forget it. Casey waits for me to arrive each day. Manny’s about to lose a tooth. The others made me promise to play tag with them.” I push past my parents. “I’m not going to let any of them down.”

  As I turn the corner in the upstairs hall, I glimpse Dad putting a hand on Mom’s arm.

  “Leave her for now,” he says.

  Damn right. I shut the door to my room and flop backward onto my bed. This time, I won’t let my parents tell me what to do.

  SEiZE

  to take by force

  It’s a scorching Friday afternoon, and I’m walking past cozy bungalows to the playground at Mill Pond Park. The bigger kids from the shelter are paired with the younger ones, walking hand in hand, with Jia at the front, Francine at the back and Sal and me midway.