Free Quite an Undertaking - Devon's Story by Barbara Clanton Page B

“Do you have your keys?”
    I smacked the front pocket of my jeans. “Yup.”
    “Cell phone?”
    I reached into the inner pocket of my jean jacket and felt the familiar rectangular shape. “Yup.”
    “Do you need money?”
    “Nope. Thanks.” I smiled. “I’ll see you later, Mom”
    I bolted out the front door before she could ask me any more questions and slammed the door harder than I meant to. I heard her call, “Have a good time.”
    Oh, I would. I would if Rebecca gave me another sign. One that I knew was real. Jessie’s dark blue Ford Focus idled in the driveway. I melted when I saw Rebecca’s bright smile in the front passenger seat. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail, but flipped up with a barrette to keep it off her neck.
    I opened the back door behind Rebecca, and as I got in, Natalie slid over behind Jessie. I shut the door quickly to keep out the cold.
    Rebecca turned all the way around to face me. “Hey, Devon.”
    “Hey.” I smiled back at her, but then I let my smile include Jessie and Natalie, too. “Thanks for picking me up.”
    “It’s cool.” Jessie put the car in reverse. She backed the car out of the driveway and then headed down my street in the direction of Bruster Park.
    I wasn’t sure what was going to happen that night, but I found out soon enough it involved some kind of light beer from Milwaukee because Jessie handed me a bottle from the front seat, and Natalie handed me an opener.
    “Oh, okay.” I took both the beer and the opener. I wasn’t a beer drinker, but I was hanging out with Rebecca and her friends and whatever they did, I’d do.
    Jessie looked at me for a second. “Just keep it down, so the cops won’t see.”
    “Oh, yeah. Okay.” I popped the top and took a sip. Nope, I still didn’t like the taste. I’d probably nurse this one all night if I could get away with it.
    The car got quiet at that point, and I sensed that maybe they weren’t sure what to talk to me about. I cleared my throat. “So, you guys had a game today, right?”
    “Scrimmage,” Jessie said as if I should know the difference between a game and a scrimmage. Which, honestly, I should have known since I was a sports editor.
    “What’s the difference?”
    Natalie said, “A scrimmage doesn’t really count. Coach tries out all kinds of lineups to see which ones work best. But,” she clapped Jessie on the shoulder, “we won!”
    Jessie punched the air with her beer. “That’s right! Get used to it.”
    “We’re unstoppable,” Natalie added.
    I decided to stay on the basketball topic. “Your first real game is Friday?”
    “Yeah.” Jessie took a swig of beer. “The day after Thanksgiving.”
    “I’ll have to check it out.” I probably said it with too much enthusiasm, but I was trying to make peace with Jessie.
    Rebecca turned to face me. “We’re hosting the Grasse River Turkey Tournament, and we’re supposed to win the whole thing.”
    “S’right.” Jessie saluted Rebecca with her beer. So much for keeping the beer out of sight from the cops.
    “A tournament?” I asked. “How many teams?”
    Natalie said, “Just four. Us included. It’s a preseason double-elimination tourney, and we play teams we won’t ever see again. These games’ll count in our overall record, but not in the St. Lawrence League. We should be,” she clapped Jessie on the shoulder again, “at least three and oh on Saturday.”
    “Damn straight.” Another beer salute from Jessie. That rule about keeping the beer out of sight must have been for everybody else.
    I felt stupid because I didn’t know a lot about sports, so right there in the backseat of Jessie’s car, I decided that I needed to become a major fan of every girls’ sports team at school and go to as many games as I could. I didn’t want Mrs. Gibson to think she’d made a mistake promoting me to girls’ sports editor. Friday night’s basketball game seemed like a good place to start. Oh yeah, Rebecca would be there,