tullos.org \o/

Melissa loved to meet people and committed her energies into installing all new students into their appropriate cliques. To Melissa, Kandi became a perfect client for her free service. No problem fitting her in, Melissa thought.
"So did you have a guy in Amarillo?" Melissa asked.
Kandi smiled, humored by Melissa's Barbara Walter demeanor, "Yes, I had a guy in Amarillo."
"Pen pals now, I guess." Melissa said.
"I don't know. Not exactly sure what'll happen there. We said we'd keep in touch but..."
"I know," Melissa interrupted. "This ain't Hollywood. I had a boyfriend who moved to Gary, Indiana. We wrote three times. Called each other once or twice. Emailed a few other times. It fizzles pretty fast."
Kandi wanted to change the subject, "What happened with this girl who died the other night?"
"I don't know. Susan was smart. I heard somebody say she offed herself." Melissa said.
"Why?"
"Nobody has a reason. I think she may have just freaked out and lost control of the car. She hung out with the debate egg-heads, went to a few parties but she wasn't the kind to get loaded and slam into a tree. Not very many people really knew her or at least nobody really got into her brain. I talked with a real close friend of hers this morning. Totally clueless. It's Sherlock stuff. Way over my head."

After school Clipper joined the other two prospects for varsity basketball practice. No one could deny that Clipper could rebound. Lanky? Yes. Clumsy? Yes. But he had a nose for the ball. He knew where it would land if someone missed a shot. Probably because he had missed so many shots in his own back yard. And those elbows! They were as sharp as cue sticks and when he got his grip on the ball and started swinging those lethal bone protrusions everyone on the court would run away, even his team mates. This impressed the coaches. They definitely needed a rebounder. The elbows were an added benefit. But of course you have to do more than rebound to be on a high school basketball team. That was the problem.
"If only he could pass, dribble and shoot," Coach Tupper whispered to his assistant, Lunsford.
"He's awful feisty," Lunsford added.
"We don't have time for grooming a player like Clipper. Post season play starts in three weeks," Tupper said.
"Lester looks good but we already have four guards."
Their conversation was interrupted as a player screamed out, "Hey, watch it with the elbows! You almost took my head off!"
Lunsford shouted out to the other side of the court, "Way to hustle, Clipper."
Tupper chuckling shook his head, "He'd make a great mascot."
Tupper blew his whistle and called the team together. Then the three possible replacements shot free throws. Tim, a fairly talented freshman, made six of ten free throws. Lester - nine of ten. Then came Clipper.
Just be cool, Clipper thought. You're in the back yard. Just you and the ball. It's midnight. It's you, the ball and you're incredible wrist action which gives the ball its unique rotation. No big deal. Piece-a-cake. Nothing but net. But then a rush of panic and intimidation shot through his veins and his thought pattern took a 180. WHO AM I KIDDING!!!! It's the moment I've been waiting for. Another chance at varsity. I've got to hit these free throws!
He could only pray for more smooth swishes through the hoop's clean white webbing than awkward doinks on to the rim. Clipper had the kind of shooting mechanism that if he drew any iron off the rim the ball would rarely bounce in into the basket. So he whispered a prayer, Lord don't let it hit the rim. His prayers were answered. He didn't hit the rim. The bad news was that he hit nothing. The first shot fell a good two inches short of the basket. Clipper's freckled face turned beet red. His prayers went from, Nothing but net. to Anything! Let me hit anything!
Tad and Troy feasted on the moment.
"Can anybody say choke?" Tad said
"The purpose of this exercise, Clipper, is to throw the ball into the hoop," Troy said in a pseudo intellectual tone.
The gym echoed with laughter and snorts.
"Clam it up guys or you'll be doing laps all over town," Tupper shouted.
Clipper's perception of himself was at an all-time low and it showed. Although Clipper was an energetic guy, full of jokes and one liners, he was blown down by any light wind of shame or criticism.
As Clipper's second free throw hit the rim twice and bounded away from the goal, Justin turned to Tad and Troy "Why can't you guys grow up."
"Excuse me, Right Reverend Billy Graham," Troy retorted.
"Typical class..." Justin said under his breath.
Clipper. Third Attempt. Brick.
Clipper's mind raced in a million different directions. Three attempts. None successful. In a matter of seconds, he went from a feeling of optimism to utter embarrassment. He whispered to himself, "All things... All things..." which was secret slogan that he and Justin adopted. Fighting for social survival he let the fourth shot go. It bounded off the backboard and into the basket. It was a fluke triumph that drained the panicked blush from Clipper's face. He felt a twinge of confidence as he hurled the fifth. It, too, dropped in.
"Way to hang in there, Clipper!" Justin yelled out.
"Wow. Two in a row. Let's call the president.," Troy mocked, unemotionally.
Clipper made four of ten and felt somewhat redeemed after missing the first three and yet he felt like his chances of making varsity vanished that afternoon. He was nervous throughout the practice and it showed. The only positive thing that he could point to out of the experience was that he was in good condition and he hustled. Did he ever. He dove for loose balls and blocked a couple of shots out of sheer will. He got any rebound that he had a chance to get. And of course the elbows were an added bonus. But basketball requires offense too. On offense he thought he looked more like a middle school student than a junior in high school. He had a prayer and that was just about it. What was in front of him after the try-out was 48 hours of not knowing. For Clipper, that was almost as much torture as not making the team.

6:00 PM at Summit High. The sight of Kandi waiting outside the guys locker room completely took Justin by surprise. He had thought about her off and on all day. He recounted their first awkward encounter with a strange combination of delight and embarrassment. It's not easy to plan how to "just run into someone" nevertheless that's what he had been doing all day. During Algebra II, Chemistry, and even basketball practice he plotted every path that might lead to her locker. He rehearsed in his mind, casual, humorous remarks that he could make when they met. These would be passing comments that would sound intelligent and yet inviting. Through the day, he would catch himself and think, What am I doing?! I don't even know the girl and I'm already wondering what it'd be like to hold her hand and walk through the park with her. He'd shake his head, smile, then grit his teeth, and focus in on the present. Then thirty seconds later he'd be back to that imaginary park with Kandi, a girl that he barely knew.
But there before him stood Kandi. He was dumbfounded and a little self conscious. This was definitely not in the script! Neither was his wet hair, sloppy sweats, and ragged duffel bag. But he tried to make the best of it.
"Hi Kandi. It is Kandi, isn't it?" (He knew good and well what her name was. He just wanted to hide the fact that she had been trapped inside his brain all day.)
"Oh hi! You're uh-"
"Justin."
"Right ?Justin'. The locker opener."
"How was your first day? Are you gettin used to everything?"
"It was pretty good as first days go, you know."
"Were you able to get into your uh-
"Locker? Yes. I kicked the bottom just like you showed me and presto- it opened."
"I'm impressed. Not too shabby for a first timer."
Things were going better than he had dreamed. He couldn't believe that she appeared right in front of him. Why is she here? He thought as they talked. Could she have come here just to finish the conversation that Clipper barged in on this morning? Nah... But maybe. Maybe so!
As she talked about Amarillo where she came from, Justin smiled and listened intently. Kandi had charmed him completely. And then during a lull in the conversation, Justin seized the moment.
"Hey Kandi, if you're not busy next Monday night we have this Bible Study at my house and I thought you might--"
Just then, Troy walked out of the guys locker room.
"Kandi. Thanks for waiting for me," Troy said. "Sorry it took me so long. Didn't want to go home lookin' like old Justin here. Great practice, huh pal? I think Lester's a shoe-in for the final spot on the varsity. Don't you?"
The sudden realization stunned Justin. He had suddenly gone from Mount Everest to Death Valley in a split second. Kandi was not milling around the locker room to see him. She came to meet Troy, of all people. His heart sank.
"So where do you want to eat, Kandi?"
Kandi stared blankly at Justin. She didn't even hear the question. She too felt awkward about the situation. Then realizing what he said, she responded, "Whatever. I don't know. I just got here."
"We have these great things in Indy. They're incredible. They're called steaks." Troy laughed heartily at his own joke as Kandi smiled and rolled her eyes.
"I'd invite you too, Justin, but I think we can make it through supper without a chaplain," Troy said.
Justin, being a good sport chuckled and started walking away "Sure. You two have fun."
"That we will, my friend," Troy called out as he and Kandi walked toward his ?97 Camero, "That we will."