Free Outside In by Karen Romano Young Page A

He called questions to her, trying to fool her into answering. Then he started telling Sandy that Joanie would never get through the morning without talking. “She’s just naturally got a mouth on her,” Pete said.
    “Just ignore him,” I told Joanie, passing three cards from my hearts hand to Rosa. Even to myself I sounded like my mother.
    Two of the other girls rolled their eyes at each other. One said smugly, “I’m glad I’m not some boy-crazy flirt.”
    Rosa caught Joanie’s eye and said, “Gimp. Think gimp.”
    Twenty minutes before lunchtime we all had given up the card games and were sitting around, waiting for lunch. The baseball players, red and sweating, had begun trickling back to the tables under the trees. Joanie stared off into space, watching the end of the game of keep away going on in the outfield. Pete began poking her. He took her elbow and hauled her on top of the picnic table. Normal Joanie would have made an announcement or a joke, but silent Joanie sat on the table and just waited.
    “What’s your problem, exactly, Ass-conti, huh?” I asked.
    Pete pushed Joanie back and forth, making her rock on the tabletop. “Talk to me, Joanie. You’ve got the vocal cords.”
    “Leave her alone!” I shoved Pete away with both hands. Joanie waved her hands at me, gesturing:
Don’t, it’s okay.
Pete spun around, put his fist against my chin.
    “Come on, Pete,” said Sandy DeLuna, of all people. Thelast time Pete had grabbed somebody by the chin, it had been Lucy.
    “If you lose, you’re going to have to give away gimp that’s not yours,” I told Pete. “It’s Park and Rec’s, not yours.”
    Stupid Sandy said, “Park and Rec will just think the group sure used a lot of gimp.” Whose side
was
he on?
    “Stay out of it, Sandy,” said Dave. Pete was now punching my chin ever so gently, a preview of coming attractions.
    “
You
wouldn’t want to get involved, would you, Davey?” I muttered.
    He glared at Pete. “What my brother does is his business.”
    Pete waved his finger in Joanie’s face. “Make it all day,” he said, “and you can have five rolls of gimp.”
    “Don’t, Joanie,” I said. I elbowed Pete away from her.
    Joanie shook her head.
    “That’s okay,” said Pete. “Everybody already knows you’re a big motormouth. You couldn’t shut up if your life depended on it.”
    I wouldn’t have cried, wouldn’t have let myself cry, but Joanie did.
    Pete said, “Go on, let it out. Make some noise.
Waah!”
    I’d never seen Pete this nasty. What kind of boy set somebody up, put somebody down, so you could laugh at them? What was going on inside Pete?
    I went at him. I leaped on his back to knock him down, get him away from Joanie.
    Pete stood still, not trying to wrestle me off the way he would have anytime before. Instead he said, so quietly that only I could hear, “I’ll punch your face in, Chérie, I swear to God.” I let go and slid to the ground.
    But the one I hit when I jumped up was Dave. I socked him right in the stomach, so hard he doubled over, so hard he cried. Some friend he was, some friend!
    Sandy went to the gimp box and took out two colors. “Black and red?” he said to Joanie. Pete whipped them out of Sandy’s hands and threw them back into the box. Sandy actually shoved Pete out of the way. “Black and green?” Pete didn’t dare scuffle with Sandy; Bunny was crossing the softball field.
    “Let
her
tell you,” he said to Sandy.
    “Black and white!” I told Sandy. He threw the green back, pulled the white out, tossed them one by one to Joanie. Tears and all, she caught them deftly and jumped off the table. She sat in the grass on the other side of the big tree, her head down, the rolls of gimp cradled in her lap.
    She wasn’t the only one I watched, though. I kept my eye on Dave Asconti, in his blue All-Stars shirt. From then on he kept his back to me.

CHAPTER 9

    P AMMY R ANKIN HAD A NEW RED BIKE. A two-wheeler. And she could ride it. It