Throwing Like a Girl by Weezie Kerr Mackey

Author:Weezie Kerr Mackey [Mackey, Weezie Kerr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2012-11-27T06:00:00+00:00

The bus we’re supposed to take to Houston broke down somewhere this morning, so now we’re going to be driving in two school vans, which causes our dear coach to panic. She’s talking on her cell phone to the athletic director, getting instructions and directions. Then there’s word that Coach Dixon might be coming to drive one of the vans and lend support. All of us agree this has the makings of a most excellent road trip.

Most of the team is here already, lounging outside the gym, waiting to be told what to do. Of course, the holy trinity hasn’t arrived yet. God forbid they don’t have a chance to make their entrance. Maybe we’ll have to leave without them.…

Frannie, Mo, and I sit up against the bat bags as I show them my snack stash. They’re impressed, and I begin to tell them about the 7-Eleven catastrophe, giving the trucker only one arm. Just when I’m about to get to the good part, where Nate tells me how desperately he wants to talk, Sally saunters up. She stops right in front of us and glares down at me.

I can tell everyone has stopped talking to watch.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” she says, noticing the audience, loving it. “And I don’t know why you continue to perform these little stunts in front of my brother. But you need to get ahold of yourself and quit stalking him or whatever it is you’re doing. He’s had enough. And, as his confidante, so have I.”

Her voice, her posture, her wet hair hanging down on either side of her face—everything about her oozes cruelty. I can’t imagine what I’ve done in my life to deserve all this anger. I can’t figure out Gwen and Joy, either. They just stand there without really looking at me.

Then Coach comes to my rescue, yet again, coffee cup in hand, hair slightly askew. “Okay, girls, glad y’all could make it. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll let you know what’s going on. We’re running a little late, so I need everyone’s cooperation here.”

I hardly listen to what Coach says. It’s drowned out by the ringing in my ears, the pounding in my chest. I can feel everyone trying not to look at me.

Coach Dixon shows up then, looking like she just rolled out of bed. We smile—me more than anyone else, because I’m trying hard not to act stung by Sally’s wicked stinger.

Coach divides us into two groups, half to go with her and half to go with Dixon. Frannie, Mo, and I are together in Dixie’s van. (Frannie has latched onto Coach’s nickname for Dixon, per usual.) Sally and the hooligans are not with us. Thank God.

Before everyone separates and climbs into the vans, Coach pulls me aside.

“Ella, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Her face is so close to mine that I see the freckles across her nose, the deep greens and blues of her eyes. Then I look away.

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