Homecoming Queen (12 page)

DJ was too stunned to say anything.

“Do you want us to leave, DJ?” asked Eliza.

DJ took in a slow breath. “Well, I am kind of tired tonight, Eliza. Can we discuss this another time?”

Eliza patted DJ’s head. “Of course, sweetie, you get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

“And I forgot to mention that we’ll give away chocolate with the buttons,” said Kriti just before Taylor shut the door, practically in her face.

“That was a little rude,” said DJ.

“I’ll say,” said Taylor, like DJ hadn’t been talking about her.

“I meant you — shoving them out like that.”

“Did you like being solicited to help make Eliza photo buttons?”

DJ smirked. “Well, not so much.”

Taylor pointed at her. “See. I knew it. You and I are more alike than you are willing to admit.”

DJ just rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“So did you figure out who really took your Vicodin yet?”

DJ shrugged. “No.”

“And you’re not the least bit curious?”

DJ looked evenly at Taylor now. “Sure. Who do you think took it?”

“Casey.”

DJ frowned. “Casey? Why would you think Casey?”

“I just know.”

“How do you know?”

“Some things you just know, DJ. And I happen to know it was Casey who took your precious pills. It’s not that big of a deal, really. I mean, not that I liked being blamed for something I didn’t do, but it’s not that surprising that Casey would take them.”

DJ felt angry now. It was one thing for Taylor to deny taking the pills herself, and DJ mostly believed her, but to go around pointing the finger at someone else — well, that was just wrong.

11

“
SO, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE A HERO?
” asked Josh Trundle. Josh adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses then opened a small black notebook. He was slightly nerdish, and DJ got the impression he was trying to imitate the guy who played Superman — when Superman wasn’t so super. Or maybe she was thinking of the young assistant guy.

“I don’t think of myself as a hero.” DJ adjusted the pillow beneath her leg then leaned back onto her bed. It had seemed a little strange having a guy in her bedroom, but she’d been worn out from doing her rehab exercises and then practicing going up and down the stairs a few times with Inez supervising. And so she’d decided to stay up here for “the interview.” Anyway, the door was open, and it wasn’t exactly like she and Josh had any romantic intentions. If Grandmother happened to walk by, she’d probably just raise an eyebrow then continue on her merry way. As it was, the old woman was probably enjoying her “beauty rest.”

“So.” He actually licked the tip of his pencil. Ugh — did people really do that? Or was he just being theatric? “Tell me, in your own words, DJ, what happened on Friday afternoon.”

DJ recounted the incidents leading up to and following her wild dive across the street to shove Jackson out of the way. “That’s about it,” she said finally.

“Let’s back it up, okay?” He peered curiously at her. “What exactly was it, do you think, that made you happen to notice that the boy was in danger? And why do you think you were the only one to notice?”

She considered this. “Well, I guess it was probably a God thing.”

He frowned. “A God thing? Can you please explain that?”

“I guess so. You see, I’m a Christian. I haven’t been a Christian for very long so it’s not like I’m really well versed in all this stuff. But it was like something inside of me — I mean like God — made me turn my head at just the right instant. And when I saw Jackson was in danger, I just took off. The vehicle was coming, and he was directly in front of it. I don’t really remember exactly what happened, but somehow — probably with God’s help — I managed to get across the street and shoved him to the curb.”

“And that’s when you got clobbered by the SUV?”

“Right.”

“So, are you saying that God could show you that Jackson was in danger and that God could supernaturally empower you to shoot across the street — but that God couldn’t protect you from getting run over?”

“I don’t know.” She thought about this. “I mean, I’m sure God can protect anyone from anything — I mean, since he’s God and all.”

“So, are you saying God didn’t want to protect you?”

“I don’t really know. Like I said, I’m kind of new at this. I don’t have all the answers yet.”

“But you think you will?”

“Well, no. I mean that sometimes you just have to trust God with things. At least that’s what Rhiannon has told me.”

“Like blind faith?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

He asked a few more questions. “Well, I guess that’s about it,” he said as he closed his pad. “Oh, except for one more thing.”

“What?”

“I hear that two of your friends are running for homecoming queen.” He grinned. “Which one of them are you supporting?”

“Supporting?” DJ envisioned herself handing out money to Taylor and Eliza, which seemed pretty ridiculous considering they were both from wealthy families. Maybe she should ask them to support her.

“You know,” he persisted. “Who will you be voting for?”

“Aren’t the elections done by a secret ballot?”

He nodded.

“Well, then . . .”

“Point taken.” He smiled and shook her hand. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, DJ. I hope you get better soon. Will you be back at school this week?”

“I think maybe tomorrow or Wednesday. I’m trying to build up my strength.”

“Thanks for taking the time to answer my questions.” But as he gathered his things and exited her room, she felt like he’d left her with more questions than answers.

“Ready to go to the volleyball match?” asked Rhiannon shortly after Josh finished up.

“I guess . . .”

“Are you too tired?”

DJ hoisted herself to her feet now, getting her crutches into place. “No, I’m okay.”

Rhiannon watched as DJ slowly maneuvered herself down the stairs. “Wow,” she told her. “That’s really good.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Then Rhiannon helped DJ get into the passenger seat of the car, placing her crutches in the back. “You sure you trust my driving?” teased Rhiannon as she turned the key in the ignition. “I mean, I haven’t driven since my mom left, you know.”

“I’m sure you’re fine,” said DJ, but that was about all she said as Rhiannon drove them to school. DJ was still thinking about what Josh had said about God not protecting her. It was very unsettling. And what if it were true?

“You feeling okay, DJ?” asked Rhiannon as she pulled in front of the gym.

“Just thinking.”

“Did Josh say something to you?” asked Rhiannon. “I mean about Haley.”

“Haley?” DJ frowned. “Who’s Haley?”

“Oh, nothing.” Rhiannon hopped out of the car and got the crutches from the back, handing them to DJ.

But DJ didn’t budge from the car. “Who’s Haley? And why are you suddenly acting weird?”

“Haley Callahan,” said Rhiannon with a slight frown. “She used to live here in town. She went to school with us. Her family moved right after our freshman year, and now they’ve moved back.”

“So?” DJ peered curiously at Rhiannon.

“So, I don’t know if Conner ever mentioned her to you before, but she used to be . . . well, they used to . . . you know . . . they kind of liked each other.”

DJ tried to wrap her head around this. “So, you mean this Haley girl used to be Conner’s girlfriend? And now she’s moved back?”

Rhiannon kind of smiled now. “I mean it’s not like it’s a big deal. I just thought you were being kind of quiet, like something was wrong, and I thought Josh might’ve said something. I’m sure he’s known Haley and Conner since grade school and — ”

“And you’re worried that Conner might still be into her?” DJ pulled herself out of the car, balancing on her good leg as she got the crutches in place.

“No, not really. I just thought maybe you were.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” DJ straightened her spine, holding her chin up. Why should she be worried? Conner was her boyfriend. He’d brought her pink roses.

“Great. So I’ll park the car and see you in there.”

“Okay.” DJ made her way toward the gym, but once she got to the heavy glass doors, she realized she had a problem. Okay, maybe she had a lot of problems. But the problem at hand was how do you push open a heavy door without hurting yourself when you’re on crutches? She looked around to see if anyone was nearby to help, but didn’t see anyone. Then she noticed a door off to the side with a blue and white handicapped symbol on it.
Ah-ha
. But as she made her way to it, pushing the large button that caused the door to open automatically, a sadness washed over her. She, an athlete who had always taken real pride in her physical skills and abilities, was now disabled.

DJ stopped in her tracks. Was she really ready to watch her healthy teammates? To cheer them on from the bench? But then how would she explain herself? Why not just get this over with? With crutches moving as gracefully as she could, she hobbled into the gym, glancing around for a place to sit, when one of her team members spotted her.

“DJ!” the girl screamed, and soon the whole team was yelling and cheering — all for DJ! Casey was the only one who didn’t come running over; she stayed back to continue her stretching. DJ thought maybe she even looked a bit impatient to start the game. But the rest of the team was slapping DJ on the back, which brought a jolt of pain with each hit, and giving her high fives until finally the ref wailed on the whistle, signaling the girls back to start the game. DJ sighed in relief. One more slap on the back, and she was going to scream.

“Sit here,” Coach Jones commanded, patting the seat next to her.

“Thanks.” DJ sat on the team bench, waving at Rhiannon to join them. Then the match started, and DJ tried to be a good sport by cheering for her teammates. But the same thought kept nagging at her.
I should be out there with them.
And, if she had been out there with them, they would probably be winning.

During the short break, after the CCHS team lost the first game, a short, stout blond man walked into the gym with Coach Jones’s son, Jackson, with him. The little boy, still holding onto the man’s hand, began to jump up and down, pointing with excitement toward DJ. Then the man let go of Jackson’s hand, and he shot straight toward her. Good thing she wasn’t on the other side of a busy street.

“Hey, Jackson.” She leaned down to hug him, once again wincing from the pain. “How’s it going, bud?”

He grinned. “Okay.” Then he looked at her big blue walking boot. “How’s your leg, DJ?”

“It’s getting better.”

He looked relieved. Then DJ introduced him to Rhiannon, and he asked if he could sit between the two of them to watch the game.

“Of course,” said DJ, scooting over to make room.

“So this is our angel,” said the man who’d accompanied Jackson into the gym after he had negotiated the crowd and made his way over. He squatted down to speak to DJ. “And I am the negligent guy who let Jackson out of his sight last week.”

DJ nodded. “Oh.”

“Name’s Rick Steele, and I’m your coach’s boyfriend.” He glanced at Coach. “Well, actually I’m still in the doghouse with her. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t done what you did last week, DJ.” He reached out his hand and firmly shook hers. “I am eternally grateful.”

She sort of shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with all this attention and gratitude. “I can’t really take all the credit,” she muttered. “It was kind of a God thing.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with you there, DJ. I barely saw it myself, but it was one of those things that you never forget.” He shook his head. “Really amazing.”

“I’m just glad Jackson is okay.”

“So am I.” Then he frowned. “But, hey, I’m really sorry about you getting hurt like this. I’ve been trying to think of something I can do to show my gratitude.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

He stood and ruffled Jackson’s hair. “Well, this little guy is pretty important to me. I’d claim him as my own kid if I could get away with it.”

“Down in front,” yelled someone behind DJ.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Steele said quickly, moving to the end of the bench where there was a vacant spot. DJ was relieved to have that over with. He was a nice enough guy, but all the fuss over her just got overwhelming. Of course, seeing Jackson again was great — a good reminder that her pain hadn’t been for nothing. Despite some news reporters, DJ felt certain that God really had used her to protect the little guy.

Finally the match was over, which the Mighty Maroons lost in a mighty way — just like Casey had predicted. And now Rhiannon was chauffeuring DJ and Casey home. Of course, Casey was sulking in the back seat. She’d said only a few words since their team lost the last game . . . and consequently the match. DJ knew she was blaming herself.

“So, tell me about this Haley chick.” DJ quietly directed this to Rhiannon.