Center of Gravity Read online

  As soon as I’m outside, I take a deep breath. And then I head down the long staircase to the lawn. I don’t think about Dad coming up to say good night to me until I’m on the bluff.

  I don’t think he will. If he does, I’ll be in trouble, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I need to know why Jay Jay left that message for me in the window.

  * * *

  “You saw it!” Jay Jay looks up from where he’s sitting, on an upturned milk crate. The other boys are with him, all three of them. They’ve lit a fire in the broken shopping cart.

  “Yeah,” I say, suddenly shy. “I wasn’t sure if it was for me. The letters were backward.”

  “Oh, shoot,” Jay Jay says. “Sorry.”

  “Who else would it be for?” Oscar asks at the same time.

  Jay Jay points to a milk crate across the fire from him, next to Marvel. I sit down and say, “So what’s going on? I thought the campout was tomorrow.”

  “It is. We need to strategize,” Jay Jay says.

  “Tomorrow’s mega important,” Oscar adds.

  The first round of the tournament. I wish that I’d had more time to practice with them. What if I choke and make them lose a spot in the finals?

  “We only need to be in the top ten on the first day,” Petey says. “I really think we can do this.”

  He seems surprised. Like maybe he didn’t think so before I joined their crew. I want to be as good as they think I am. Good enough to make a difference. “Do you guys know the other kids?”

  “Just Aaron’s new crew,” Jay Jay says. “The others are from other centers. We’ve never played them before.”

  “You can beat Aaron’s crew, though?”

  “We can,” Oscar says. “Right. We can?”

  “We have to.” Marvel uses a straightened-out wire hanger to poke at the fire.

  “Wait,” I say. “You’ve never played against them?”

  “We just practice,” Jay Jay says.

  Everyone gets quiet, and I squirm on my milk crate until I finally can’t hold it in anymore. “What will you guys do with the money, if we win?”

  Jay Jay, Oscar, and Petey all look up at me.

  “When we win,” Petey says. “We’ll buy bus tickets and get the hell out of here.”

  “But where will you go?” No one says anything, and I can’t help it. I need to know. “I mean, do you have somewhere to go?”

  It’s the boys’ turn to squirm. Obviously, they’ve talked about this and they have things they don’t want to say to me. But if I’m going to help them get money, I think I should know what they’re going to do with it. Shouldn’t I?

  “Just tell her,” Marvel says.

  Oscar leans forward. “We don’t have to tell her anything.”

  I am really getting tired of Oscar’s attitude problem. “And I don’t have to help you win.”

  “We have an uncle who lives in Michigan,” Petey says. “We’ll use the money to get to his house.”

  “You don’t need a thousand dollars for that.”

  “We’ll give our uncle the rest,” Petey says. “So he’ll let us stay.”

  I try to imagine my dad’s brother, my uncle Henry who lives in Boise, not letting me stay with him if I told him that someone was abusing me. I try to imagine even worrying about that.

  “But, I mean, you could get to him for a lot less, right?” I ask.

  “What are you trying to say?” Jay Jay asks. “If you want to keep your share, then we’ll just give Marvel back his spot.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then what?” Oscar asks. “This is just like Aaron all over again.”

  I reach into my back pocket and pull out the little slip of paper I’d taken from the babysitting flyer that afternoon. “This is what I’m talking about.”

  “What is it?”

  “Some lady,” I say. “She’s looking for a babysitter on Thursday afternoons.”

  “You want to babysit instead of practicing next Thursday?” Jay Jay’s voice is thick with disappointment, like he’s wishing he’d never asked me to hang out with him and his friends in the first place, and my stomach falls to my knees.

  “She’ll probably pay me at least ten dollars a week,” I say. “That’s a hundred and twenty dollars by the time school starts again.”

  “Three months,” Petey says.

  “Well, just for that money. We could find other ways. All I’m saying is that we don’t have to win the tournament. It would be awesome, but just in case.”

  “You don’t think we can win?” Marvel asks.

  “I don’t even know the other teams or if they’re good,” I answer. “None of you do.”

  “What other ways?” Jay Jay asks.

  I try to keep my breathing even, but my heart is pounding. “I don’t … I don’t know, what about all those people who I see jogging and walking their dogs in the morning? We could have a lemonade stand.”

  “A lemonade stand? Are you serious?” Oscar asks. “No one makes any money with a lemonade stand.”

  “We could,” I say. “Seriously, there were so many people out there this morning. Lila does this coupon thing. I bet she could get us some Kool-Aid and plastic cups cheap.”

  Oscar rolls his eyes. “We need to practice, and she’s talking about Kool-Aid.”

  Jay Jay looks at me across the fire. “We could mow lawns.”

  Oscar makes a noise, like he’s disgusted.

  “What about the tournament?” Petey asks.

  “Of course we’re doing the tournament.” Jay Jay sits back again. “It can’t hurt to have a backup plan.”

  “Just in case,” I say.

  “You’d really give us your babysitting money?” Petey asks.

  I’ve been so caught up in having an idea that the boys might like, that I haven’t really spent any time thinking about what it really means.

  Would I give them money to run away with? What if I did and something terrible happened to them? Would it be my fault?

  “She wouldn’t,” Oscar says when I wait too long.

  No. He’s wrong. I know it as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “Yes. I would.”

  “Why?” Marvel asks.

  Because I saw you limp, I think. Because I want you all to like me. “Because I want to help.”

  Petey puts a marshmallow on the end of a hanger for Marvel. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  “No,” Oscar says. “We need her to practice with us.”

  “The community center is closed on Sundays,” Jay Jay says before I can respond. “We could try the lemonade stand idea on Sunday. See how it goes.”

  “Well, we’re practicing next Thursday.” Oscar crosses his arms over his chest, like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do.

  “Marvel could practice with you for a couple of hours.”

  “No,” Jay Jay says before Oscar can open his mouth. “We need you.”

  “Fine,” I say.

  Jay Jay sticks a marshmallow on his own hanger. “Good.”

  “I’ll ask Lila about getting us the stuff to set up a lemonade stand Sunday.” Oscar rolls his eyes, but Jay Jay nods and Petey just stares into the fire.

  “We just need to make it to the finals,” Oscar says. “That’s what we should be focused on.”

  “We are,” I say. “I am.”

  “Good.”

  “But—” All the boys look at me. I don’t want it to be me, but someone has to ask. “Does your uncle know you’re coming?”

  Marvel looks up at Petey, and I wish I could suck the question back in. He doesn’t know the answer. And I know, somehow, I know without being told, that Petey might have lied to me, but he won’t lie to his brother. Just like my dad won’t lie to me.

  “Not yet,” Petey says. “Not until we’re on our way.”

  Not until they’re away from their mom. There’s more that I want to ask. Does their uncle know about what their mother does to Marvel? Does he
know that after a bad night, his nephew limps around the community center? If he does know, why doesn’t he come get them?

  “Can’t you just tell him about your mom?” I ask.

  Petey inhales deeply. “If we tell him, he might say no.”

  I blink at that honest answer. “Well, then…”

  “If we just show up, he might let us stay. At least long enough for me to make another plan.”

  “Won’t your mom try to get you back?”

  “Jeez,” Oscar says. “Just shut up.”

  Jay Jay changes the subject. “How are we going to handle tomorrow?”

  Only two of us can play at a time during the tournament. We’ll have to choose starters for the first game. They’ve made such a big deal about me practicing with them and how much they need me that I expect someone to say that Jay Jay and I will play in the first game.

  “Me and you first,” Oscar says to Petey.

  There isn’t any non-jerk way to say What do you mean I’m not playing in the first game? Or to point out that I’m their best player. But more than that, Petey’s too close to the problem. If I were him, I’d choke, and I think there’s a good chance that will happen tomorrow.

  I shake my head, and Oscar says, “What?”

  “It should be me and Jay Jay.”

  “Full of yourself much?”

  “She’s right,” Petey says.

  “Seriously?” Oscar asks.

  “Me and Tessa first, then,” Jay Jay says, cutting Oscar off.

  I exhale slowly. Please, God, don’t let me be the one who chokes.

  TEN

  During the half-hour drive to the Boys and Girls Club, I hope Lila will pull in and drop me off. Instead, she parks her car and cuts the engine.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I know you’re upset your dad can’t be here.”

  “It’s okay.” I can’t look at her. It’s her fault he has to have a new job. It’s her fault we’re in California at all.

  And it’s also her fault that I have new friends and that I’m about to meet Andre Whittaker and play in a foosball tournament with Jay Jay and Oscar and Petey.

  I want her to not make me think about this. Why can’t she just drop me off and go home until I call for a ride?

  “Mrs. Sampson is coming,” she says. “She told me last night.”

  Jay Jay’s grandmother will be in the stands? “Oh.”

  “I thought I’d keep her company.” Lila shrugs one shoulder. “I needed to get out of the house. Is that okay with you?”

  I don’t want to be happy that I’ll have someone there, cheering me on, even if it’s just Lila. But the fact is that I am. And I’m surprised that she asked my permission. I get out of the car without saying anything except, “Okay.”

  The indoor basketball gym at the Boys and Girls Club has been set up with a dozen foosball tables. The wooden stands on both sides of the court have been pulled out and are filled with parents and grandparents waiting to watch their kids play.

  A hard knot of panic rattles around my sour stomach as I scan the crowd looking for the boys. It settles some when I see Oscar standing with his mom, who is standing next to a tall, very thin older woman. Jay Jay is on the other side of her, with Petey and Marvel.

  The older woman spots Lila and waves her over.

  “There’s Mrs. Sampson,” Lila says. She doesn’t move yet, though. “Are you ready to kick some foosball butt?”

  “Uh … yeah.” Actually, I am. I start toward the boys, and Lila comes with me.

  Marvel runs to me as soon as he sees me.

  “What—?” He’s wearing something that looks like a cross between pajamas and a Halloween costume. A one-piece suit that covers every inch of him in soft brown fur. He pulls up a hood that has bear ears and a black nose. “What are you wearing?”

  “I’m the mascot.” He stands on his toes and points toward the back of the stadium. “Do you see him?”

  I follow his finger. “Who?”

  “Andre Whittaker.”

  And then I do see him. He’s wearing his uniform, and I see him shake a boy’s hand and say a few words. That kid moves away and another steps forward. A line has formed behind him, waiting to shake Whittaker’s hand.

  Marvel takes my hand and pulls me toward the soccer player. I look back over my shoulder at Lila, and she waves at me.

  “Petey, come on!” Marv calls out, and the other boys join us as we get in the back of the line.

  * * *

  A team from the Long Beach YMCA sends two girls to play against us in the first round. So much for throwing off the other team with a girl player, I think. The girls wear matching barrettes braided through with purple ribbons that hold back their hair behind their right ears. One of the girls has a waterfall of dark-blond hair falling down the left side of her face, and she reminds me so much of Megan that for a minute I can’t breathe.

  Somehow everyone but me knows that the next thing to do is reach across the table and shake hands with our opponents.

  “Good luck,” I say to the girl who takes my hand when I finally offer it and squeezes a little too hard. I try to pull mine back, but she holds on even tighter.

  “You too,” she says in a way that clearly means You’re going to need it.

  “Each game will play until one team scores ten,” Andre Whittaker says into a microphone.

  Ten. We’ve only ever practiced to five. Megan and Denny and I always played to five. I look at Jay Jay, but he doesn’t seem worried.

  A man and a woman hold huge television cameras. The man focuses on Andre Whittaker. The woman scans the players. I duck my head when she swings our way, suddenly shy about being filmed.

  A girl in a Third Annual Los Angeles Foosball-Palooza T-shirt stands near our table with a ball in her hand. She spins it around her palm and waits until Andre says, “Play ball!”

  The ball drops, and the girl across from Jay Jay gets control immediately. Before I can react, she slams the ball past our offense and into our goal. Five seconds in and we’re already losing.

  The girls high-five each other, and Jay Jay looks at me.

  You didn’t stop it either. But I don’t say that. I feel Oscar glaring at my back.

  Our table’s tender takes the ball again and drops it. This time, I’m more alert. Like someone’s poured ice water over my head. Jay Jay gets control of the ball. He lifts an eyebrow as the girls bounce on their toes and keep their eyes on the table.

  He passes the ball back to me, and I tap it across to the far side and back up to him. When the girls are settled in to block a shot there, he suddenly shoots it across to his offense on the other side of the table and scores.

  I breathe easier with the score tied up. For the next several minutes, our game stays that way. I block two attempts by the girls. Jay Jay doesn’t even try to shoot against them. I feel like I’m playing our side by myself, and I can’t take a minute to look up at him to see what’s going on.

  “Get your head in the game, Jay!” Oscar calls out from behind us.

  “I’m trying,” he says under his breath as he crashes his front line of offense forward, trying to block a shot that makes it back to me.

  I tap the ball back up to him, all the way against the side nearest us. He finally seems to get himself together and shoots through the girls’ defense and scores again.

  I have about ten seconds to be relieved that we’re ahead before the girls score two in a row, one right after the other. Jay Jay misses the block both times and worrying about what’s going on with him divides my attention too much.

  Petey, Marvel, and Oscar behind us aren’t making it easier. I hear them groan when the score goes 2–3.

  Petey says, “Are you kidding me?”

  We should have played against Aaron’s team last week. All of Jay Jay’s practice has been against his friends. He is completely thrown off by these girls and their more aggressive style.

  And we should have practiced playing t
o ten. A 2–3 score should be a half-over game, but it’s not now. We’ve barely started.

  A boy at the table next to ours calls, “Time out!” and I look at Jay Jay and do the same thing.

  “Time out! Time out!”

  The girls lift their hands in the air, then huddle together while the tender picks the ball out of the middle of the table.

  “I’m sorry,” Jay Jay says. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Let’s switch. Let me take the offense.”

  “You’re killing it in defense, though. What if I can’t—”

  “You can.”

  “I’ve never played defense.”

  “Yes, you have. You did the first time I saw you play.”

  Jay Jay’s eyebrows shoot up. “With Marvel!”

  “Just block the goal.”

  The girl holding the ball says, “Time.”

  Jay Jay and I switch places, and I wrap my hands around the offensive controls. I breathe out slowly, trying to stay calm. The girl across from me, the one who looks like Megan, snorts a little burst of laughter and I look up at her.

  We need eight more goals, and we need to block at least six from them. For now, though, I focus on getting one more past their keeper, to tie the game up again.

  Megan sometimes could sneak one past Denny when he got too sure of himself. When he was positive he had us beat, he’d lose enough of his focus to drop his guard, and Megan could send a ball right through, dead center. No tricks or anything.

  I win the drop, and the girl across from me moves her front line back toward her. For a split second there’s an opening, just like Megan sometimes had against Denny. Right up the middle, when the other team is sure I’m going to try to sneak it in from the side and even more sure they can block it.

  I shoot as hard as I can and hear the girl across from me say a swear word under her breath. The ball slips right past their defense and into the pocket.

  We’re tied up again. My heart pounds. The score is 3–3. Jay Jay blocks a shot and passes the ball back up to me. They do the same when I shoot. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  And then I sink another one, and we’re ahead. 3–4.