Free Advance Notice by Cynthia Hickey Page B

bleachers and to the nearest trash can. Under the
bleachers, I scanned the area for a stick or rock big enough to scrape up my
mess. No way was I touching the nachos with my bare hands. Not after they’d
been lying in the dirt for thirty minutes.
    “I told her I didn’t want to, but she
won’t leave me alone.”
    I froze, trying to discern where the
voice came from. It was a young man, of that I was certain.
    A girl answered. “You need to stand up
for yourself. I don’t know what it is that has you so
bothered, but no one should be able to dictate your actions. Not at your age,
at least.”
    A sense of de ja vu came over me. During the last mystery I’d been
involved in, I’d found myself under the bleachers eavesdropping. Maybe the
police should take up this line of investigating.
    “Hey, Mrs. Steele. What are you doing?”
    I sighed and closed my eyes, recognizing
the voice of the mascot, Timmy Weldon. Why wasn’t he on the field? Now, I’d
learn nothing more tonight. “Hi, Timmy.” The voices had stopped. I scooped up
the nachos the best I could and climbed through the poles holding up the
bleachers. “Good game, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah, but I had to take a break. This
costume is hot.” He wobbled his head, making the fangs on the snake head dip
closer to my face. I knew his voice, but the mask effectively hid his identity.
“Are you under here spying on the kids making out?”
    “What? No.” Kids were making out? Where?
    “There’s always several, Mrs. Steele. You
should keep your eyes open.” Timmy gave a wave of one scaly paw, despite snakes
not having hands, and left.
    I glanced around the surrounding area,
trying to determine whose conversation I had been listening to. Timmy was
right. There were at least four different couples in lip-locks. Not wanting to
know any more, I headed back to Mom and Leroy. Wait a minute! That was Lindsey.
    “What in the world are you doing?”
    Lindsey jumped back from the boy she was
kissing as if stung. “Mom?”
    I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.
“Explain, and you…” I pointed at the boy I didn’t know. “Can leave.”
    “You’re embarrassing me,” Lindsey hissed.
“It doesn’t mean anything. I’m trying to make Bobby jealous.”
    “By kissing under the bleachers like
common trash?” Lord, save me from teenagers. “I thought you were a good girl.”
Had I jinxed her by telling everyone my daughter was good?
    “I am a good girl. We were only kissing!
What are you doing under here?”
    “Picking up garbage.”
    She shook her head. “I have the weirdest
mother in the world. Why can’t you be normal? You were under here snooping.”
    That set me back. What was normal,
anyway? “Not on purpose. Who all was under here, anyway? I heard something.”
    She groaned. “I am not going to snitch.”
With a toss of her hair, she stomped to the edge of the stairs.
    With her flouncing off, I’d lost any
chance of knowing whose conversation I’d overheard. I shrugged. Most likely
some kid who didn’t want to do what his parents said, and an evil girl out to
mislead him. Spirits low, I sank down next to Mom. My daughter had shattered
all my illusions about her. What kind of girl made out under the bleachers
during a crowded football game? Just to make another boy jealous!
    I watched the second quarter under a
depressed fog. Even my wave to Duane, when he turned, was half-hearted. No
doubt he’d ask me about it later. I watched as Timmy hopped along the
sidelines, tripping over invisible obstacles, and harassing the cheerleaders.
At least someone was having fun.
    “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
Mom handed me a bottle of water.
    “I caught Lindsey kissing a boy under the
bleachers. I’m devastated. It feels like someone ripped my heart out and filled
my stomach with cement.”
    “Don’t be so dramatic. Everyone makes out
under the bleachers at some time during high school.”
    “I never did.” Really? Everyone?
    Mom patted my knee.