The Rule of Won by Stefan Petrucha Page B

gym.
    But where was Vicky?
    As I led Landon across the shiny scuff-free gym floor, I noticed that in the thin alley between the raised seats and the wall there were two figures standing close.
    Landon, looking where I was looking, said, “That Ethan?” He nodded toward the taller shadow. “Looks like he’s kissing some girl.”
    I heard Vicky’s voice saying, “Ooooooh,” like she was feeling faint.
    Forgetting Landon, I dove into the little alley. This was awkward, since I was wider than it and had to shimmy sideways.Vicky saw me and practically leaped away from Ethan. Not easy to do in that tiny space. She nearly smacked her head against the seats in an effort to put some distance between herself and Ethan.
    â€œCaleb!” she said. “I was . . . Ethan was . . .”
    Ethan cleared his throat. “I was just showing her the drawing Alyssa did for the game tonight.”
    I bet he was.
    Vicky grinned. “Yeah, I was being a real nag about it.”
    I bet she was.
    â€œI was just so impressed,” she added. She lifted a sheet from Ethan’s hands and held it toward me. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
    I didn’t take it, what with my hands holding two popcorn bags, but I looked at it, since that was much easier than, say, dealing with whatever Vicky and Ethan were really doing back here. And what was I going to do about it, really? Hit Ethan? Punch Vicky? Burst into tears?
    At least I had the picture to look at. It
was
beautiful. Ethan’s kid sister had gotten the Regis gym so perfectly she must have visited just to do the drawing. It was in the same style as the Screech Neck picture, black ink and some kind of paint or wet marker for the colors. One of our players was making a basket and everyone was cheering. I remember being particularly impressed with how well she had done the shooter’s hands. Hands are tough.
    â€œNice,” I said, hoping they would both read some deadlysarcasm into my one-word critique. Then I spun and headed out of the alley. Landon was waiting at the edge of the seats, and I led him up to the back, where we sat with the others. The bleachers creaked a bit from Landon’s weight, enough to make Erica look up from her spiral bondage. I used the opportunity to hand her one of the popcorn bags.
    Before taking it, she looked at Landon and said, “
The Rule
makes strange bedfellows, eh?”
    â€œGot that right,” I said as Ethan and Vicky clambered up to join us. Vicky sat next to me and patted me on the leg. Ethan sat stiff-backed next to her and pretended to be looking at the rest of the gym. Occasionally, he whistled to himself. Erica gave them a wide-eyed look. I think she was pleased.
    â€œGoing to offer me some popcorn?” Vicky asked me with a campaign-button grin.
    â€œI’m thinking no,” I said. I was afraid she was going to ask why, but she didn’t—and we got down to the serious business of watching the most stunningly lame game in the history of basketball.
    No, really. After the first five minutes, it made me want to put on vampire contact lenses and wear black lipstick. The Hurricanes were practically unconscious, dropping the ball, tripping over it, missing easy layups, screwing up like crazy. On our side, it was nice to see that Mike was actually a decent player. He even made a few good shots, but despite all that, for the entire game, Regis stayed ahead by at least two points.
    As the clock ticked away the remaining minutes of the fourth quarter with us still losing, Dylan, Landon, and Vicky looked stricken, deeply worried, horribly nervous. Erica would look up occasionally, then go back to her writing as if nothing important ever happened in the real world. Grace, bless her, never lost her grin, and Ethan? He just kept watching. Never moved his head, and he had that smug little smile on his face, like he knew the miracle was going to happen, and it didn’t