Sal was euphoric as he sat in the minibus. What the hell had just happened? Had he just knocked out an ex-marine? The feeling that nothing could go wrong, everyone was awesome, and life was nothing but optimistic filled his entire being. Everything had changed so much since the previous day. He'd changed, and suddenly the world seemed pretty peachy.
His thoughts reached back to the trip to The Diner and the handsome stranger that was looking at him and felt a sudden urge to go and look for him as he turned the bus's engine on. He looked out the rear mirror and was getting ready to back out from the school’s parking lot when he saw someone standing behind his bus.
Was that Robin?
Sal stopped the motor from running and stepped out of the bus with a thumping heart. What the hell did she want?
The girl—who hadn’t fallen for his charms, unlike many others—was fidgeting where she stood.
“Hey, Sal, how have you been?” she asked nervously. The anxiety sat below her smile, her actions, and her greeting. She seemed as if she was trying to shake it off.
“Hey, Robin, I’m good. How have you been?” He smiled a fake smile, trying to figure out what was going on.
The corners of her lips fought to fall and reveal her true purpose in meeting him there. “I’m good, thanks. Where have you been? Your t-shirt's soaking wet, and everyone saw you run away from school at the speed of light…well, almost.” She chuckled.
He was certain she knew he was up to something. “Oh, that!" he said. "I suddenly remembered I had to finish my cottage cheese sculpture, so I had to hurry before it melted away.” He hadn't meant to sound sour, but she was fishing for something, and it annoyed him.
“This isn’t you, Sal.” She looked directly at him.
“What isn’t me, Robin? Share your wisdom with me!”
She paused for what felt an eternity, which irritated the hell of Sal—he didn’t have all day.
When he'd decided she'd had her chance and hadn't taken it, he said, “Whatever, Robin. I got stuff to do.” He waved her off and turned back to the bus.
“I saw you!” she said quietly.
Something boiled deep inside Sal, hot as lava and waiting to explode. He felt himself suppressing a raging sea of anger. Sal saw her eyes flicker as he stepped up in front of her. She looked like someone who had been outgunned. “Please, enlighten me,” Sal said, irritated. He could practically smell the fear rolling in over her.
That was when he'd realized that she'd witnessed the incident with Manfred.
The subliminal messages rummaged through his brain, and it was as if a switch had turned on inside of him. He stepped forward with confidence and stared deeply into Robin's eyes. “You haven’t seen anything, weed smoker. Your high-society, anti-drug father probably wouldn’t like it if he knew his innocent daughter was using substances. It would hurt his reputation. You saw nothing but a friendly chat.”
Robin blinked a few times as her brain absorbed every detail. She started to walk to the school entrance, but then she stopped, turned around, tilted her head, and smiled a genuine smile at him. “See you later, Sal,” she said before walking away.
He stood there, nailed to the ground, gazing after Robin. His encounter with her was like an out-of-body experience—something inside of him had just torn itself loose and taken over. It was him, but not him at the same time.
What was just going on?
How did Robin go from being a concerned citizen to a careless kid in sixty seconds flat?
Sal had never spoken to Robin that way before, but he wasn’t sorry. The perfect façade she'd tried to maintain was fake. Maybe that was what he hadn’t been able to break through before?
He couldn't control the information he was given. It was crazy, but he supposed it helped him to see Robin for who she really was.
The hurt of having been turned down by her had lost all meaning.
It was good riddance, as far as he was concerned.
Sal got into the bus to head for home. He was exhausted. As he backed out of the parking spot and geared up to leave school, he saw Coach Heffernan stepping out of the school building. He waved at Sal, encouraging him to stop the bus. “Hey, Sal, Robin told me you were out here. How come aren’t you in class?”
“I don’t feel so good, so I'm going to get some rest. I have to be ready for the game," Sal answered in a raspy voice.
“Yeah, about that—the school has decided to postpone the game due to safety concerns.”
“That sucks, Coach,” Sal replied, meaning what he'd said.
Coach Heffernan looked disappointed. He'd worked hard to get the team to the top of the league. He was a great and dedicated coach, spending hours writing up a master practice schedule for each season, making sure each player learned new skills. Coach always made sure each player had a strong foundation on which to build. Everything was taken into consideration, including all the practice days, game days, days off, days when sessions might be doubled, days when practice had to be cut short, and so on.
The coach had always been good to Sal. He never treated him any worse or any better than anyone else on the team. It helped Sal to feel less out of place on the team, despite his he obvious, distinct appearance. The coach had quickly discovered his talent for basketball and had shown a lot of patience when teaching Sal the magic of the game and had developed his skills.
“Oh, well, we’ll get there. We’ll bring the championship back to Strong Edge," Coach said, drumming his fingers on the bus. “You head on home and get some rest, you hear, and I'll inform the school that I sent you home. That way the Mackeys won’t put you in the hot seat.” He winked at Sal.
Sal snickered. “Thanks, Coach.”
He drove home, dropped into his bed, and slept soundly until his phone buzzed. It was Rosie notifying him it was time to go and see Louise. Sal dreaded the task more than anything. Something wasn’t right where Louise's pregnancy was concerned.