THE basketball thumped on the sidewalk in front of Becky and bounced straight into
the air. In one motion, she dropped her bag of groceries and reached out with
both hands, snaring the ball. A bright November sun glanced off the orange rim
ten feet up, and Becky found her target. Her arms reached up, her wrist cocked. And then she froze. She knew she could make the shot. Twenty feet out from the corner never bothered her. It was a pair of eyes that stopped her, deep blue eyes that locked onto hers and held her captive. “Well, go ahead and shoot!” It wasn’t Blue Eyes talking, but his tall lanky friend, impatient to get on with their game. His words broke the spell. Becky lowered her gaze reluctantly, aware of a strange fluttering inside her chest, like a tiny basketball being dribbled up and down a miniature court. The ball felt cold and heavy in her hands. “Here, take it.” She flicked a bounce pass waist-high to Blue Eyes and stooped down to pick up the groceries. She felt her face flaming. They must think she was a complete idiot, dropping everything and standing there with the ball like some hotshot, while her apples and eggs— “Oh no! The eggs!” Sticking her hand into the sack, she pulled out the white plastic carton. She had an awful feeling. Very gingerly she opened the lid. “Yuck! What a mess!” Becky whirled around. She hadn’t noticed the little boy before, but there he stood, a scaled-down copy of Blue Eyes, from the square little chin and tipped-up nose to those incredible eyes and a head-full of light brown curls. “I bet you broke more than half of ‘em,” said the boy, bending over to get a closer look at the sticky yellow mess. “Too bad we’re not closer to home. Our chickens are laying pretty good now and—” “That’s okay, Jason.” Blue Eyes’ voice was deep and strong. “Here, you and Rich shoot some baskets.” He flipped his brother the ball and reached for the egg carton. “It’s a mess all right, but only two of them broke. Not bad, considering.” He closed the box and grinned down at Becky who was on the ground again, hunting for stray apples. “Got everything now?” “I think so.” In spite of the whole terrible situation, one pleasant thought crossed her mind as she scrambled to her feet. He must be well over six feet tall because she actually had to look up at him! Which didn’t matter, of course, because the only thing he’d remember about her was how she had dropped her groceries to go after a loose ball. It was always like that with boys. Sure they noticed her. How could they possibly miss all five feet, twelve inches? The trouble was, that’s all they ever saw. Becky’s eyes traveled down to her faded jeans and baggy sweatshirt. She couldn’t have looked worse if she had planned it. Sometimes life was just plain cruel. “I’d better go,” she mumbled, putting out her hand. “Can I have my eggs back?” “Sure.” He shoved the carton into her sack. “You live around here?” She nodded. “Come on, Matt,” Rich called. “Let’s finish the game.” “Okay, I’m coming.” Still watching Becky, Blue Eyes took a step backward. “Well, see you around.” _______________________________ [COURT OF HONOR by Paula Blais Gorgas | Young Adult (©1995 Paula Blais Gorgas) | Re-released in 2009 | This excerpt is protected by copyright and is for use only on the Dragonfly Publishing, Inc. websites; it may not be printed, altered, or distributed without the publisher’s prior written consent.] |
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