In Hot Water

“Okay, everyone—some aerobics to warm up!”

Bobbi trotted enthusiastically onto the gym floor, clapping her hands, trying to get the girls up for their after-school practice.

But they lingered against the wall, clustered in pairs, talking quietly.

“Come on, everyone—line up! Let’s warm up!”

Bobbi’s eyes wandered from girl to girl. Where’s Corky? she wondered, and then remembered that Corky had to stay late in Mr. Grant’s science lab. She saw Jennifer wheel herself in, concentrating as she maneuvered her wheelchair through the double doors. Jennifer saw Bobbi and smiled, giving her a little wave.

“Line up!” Bobbi insisted.

“Where’s Miss Green?” Kimmy asked, stepping forward slowly, holding her wrist with the white cast on it awkwardly.

“I don’t know,” Bobbi told her. “Are you going to warm up with us? Or does your wrist—”

“My wrist is no concern of yours,” Kimmy snapped. “I’m not quitting the squad because of it, if that’s what you mean.” Her eyes burned angrily into Bobbi’s.

“Let’s warm up! Come on, everyone!” Bobbi called out, ignoring Kimmy’s anger.

Slowly the girls moved away from the wall and formed a line in front of Bobbi. Bobbi started up the tape player. They began their aerobic exercises, the same routine they had followed since school began.

But they performed halfheartedly, grudgingly, without enthusiasm.

“Come on—let’s work up a sweat!” Bobbi cried, working doubly hard, as if to make up for their feeble effort. But the girls ignored her. Debra and Ronnie, she saw, were carrying on a conversation while going through the motions.

Bobbi glanced toward the wall. Jennifer gave her a thumbs-up, but it didn’t cheer her. The girls, she knew, were deliberately not cooperating.

She stopped the music. “Let’s work on Steam Heat,” she suggested. “Ronnie, do you want to take the end this time?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to take the end? You can lead it.”

“I don’t know.” Ronnie shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned back to her conversation with Debra.

Without Corky, I don’t have anyone on my side, Bobbi realized, suddenly overcome by a powerful wave of depression. Only Jennifer, I guess. But even she doesn’t want to speak up for me in front of the girls—not after what happened to Kimmy.

“Okay, line up for Steam Heat,” Bobbi called out, struggling to keep up a show of enthusiasm.

“I think we should wait for Miss Green,” Kimmy said defiantly.

“Yeah. Let’s wait,” Debra added quickly.

“No reason to wait,” Bobbi said unsteadily. She glanced up at the scoreboard clock. Three forty-five. “We know what we have to work on, don’t we?”

“I still think we should wait,” Kimmy said, a definite challenge to Bobbi’s authority.

“Yeah. Wait,” Debra muttered nastily. Heather and Megan nodded in sullen agreement.

It’s a mutiny, Bobbi realized, suddenly dizzy.

“Line up!” she insisted, glancing at Jennifer, whose smile had faded. She was watching the proceedings with a look of concern. “Kimmy, if you have something to say to me—” Bobbi started.

“I think Miss Green has something to say to you,” Kimmy replied smugly. Beside her, Ronnie snickered out loud.

The double doors swung open, and Miss Green entered, taking long, rapid strides, carrying a bulging briefcase. “Sorry I’m late,” she called out, heading to her office in the corner.

Seeing them on the floor, Bobbi by herself in front of the sullen-looking group, Miss Green stopped. “You’ve started?”

“Not exactly,” Kimmy told her, shooting Bobbi a meaningful glance.

“No one seems to be in the mood to work today,” Bobbi reported reluctantly.

Miss Green shifted the heavy briefcase to her other hand. “Bobbi—could I see you in my office for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bobbi replied, dread building in the pit of her stomach, her throat tightening.

“Everyone—let’s cancel practice for today, okay?” Miss Green said, her eyes on Kimmy.

Uh-oh, Bobbi thought. She could feel the blood pulsing at her temples.

“We’ll regroup tomorrow afternoon,” Miss Green said.

Talking quietly among themselves, the cheerleaders obediently moved off the floor and began to collect their belongings. Bobbi realized that all of them were avoiding looking at her. She caught a smug grin on Kimmy’s face, but Kimmy quickly turned her head and walked away with Debra and Ronnie.

They all know what Miss Green is going to say to me, Bobbi realized.

And I know too.

As the gym quickly emptied out, Bobbi followed Miss Green to her office, her heart pounding, her legs suddenly feeling as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

Miss Green dropped the briefcase onto her desk. She sifted through a few pink phone-message sheets, then looked up at Bobbi. “Health forms,” she said, patting the briefcase. “They weigh a ton. You’ve got to be strong to be in the phys. ed. department.”

Bobbi stood awkwardly in front of the desk, nervously toying with a strand of her hair. When Miss Green motioned her toward a seat, Bobbi obediently lowered herself into it, folding her hands in her lap.

She realized she was perspiring. It was so hot in the gym, and she had been the only one to really work during the aerobics warm-ups.

“Bobbi, I’m really sorry,” Miss Green said abruptly, setting down the pink message sheets and leaning with both hands on the desktop. “I have to ask you to step down from the squad.”

“Oh!” Bobbi uttered a short cry.

She had anticipated those very words. But somehow they had come as a surprise anyway.

“I really don’t—” she started.

Miss Green held up a hand to silence her. “I don’t want to discuss what happened yesterday. I know you wouldn’t deliberately try to injure one of the girls. But what happened, happened. Whether it was a loss of concentration or whatever. It happened.”

She sat down, leaning forward over the desk, playing with an opal ring on her right hand. “You’re a very talented cheerleader, Bobbi,” she continued. “You and your sister. I like you both. But after yesterday, I’m afraid—well, I’m afraid you’ve lost the confidence of the squad.”

“Confidence?” Bobbi managed to utter in a tight, choked voice. She suddenly realized she was breathing hard. Drops of perspiration were sliding down her forehead, but she made no attempt to wipe them away.

“A squad is built on trust. And the girls just don’t feel they can trust you,” Miss Green said, lowering her voice, her face expressionless. “They’ve made it very clear to me. Whether it’s true or not, they believe that you deliberately didn’t catch Kimmy yesterday.” She cleared her throat noisily, covering her mouth with one hand. “I’m really sorry, Bobbi. I have no choice. I have to ask you to quit.”

Bobbi lowered her head, struggling to stop her body from shaking, struggling to hold back her tears. “I understand,” she managed to whisper.

“If you’d like to talk to someone,” Miss Green offered, her eyes sympathetic, “a doctor, I mean. If you’d like me to recommend someone you could . . . confide in—”

Bobbi rose to her feet. She had to get out of there, she realized. She felt hot and cold and shaky and sick. “No, thanks. I’ll just leave now,” she said, turning to the door, avoiding Miss Green’s stare.

“I know how you must feel,” Miss Green said, standing too. “If there’s anything I can do . . .”

A few seconds later Bobbi found herself in the locker room. Alone. Her footsteps echoing on the damp concrete floor. She choked back a sob.

I’m wringing wet. Wringing wet.

I’ll take a shower, she decided. Change into street clothes.

That’ll make me feel better.

She thought she heard a scraping sound from another row of lockers. “Anybody here?” she called in a quivery voice.

No reply.

“Now I’m hearing things too,” she said out loud.

Oh, well, she thought, pulling her sweatshirt over her head, at least now I’ll have more time to study.

With that thought, the sob she’d been holding back burst out.

How could this happen to me? How could this happen?

Am I really going crazy?

Leaving her clothes on the bench, she pulled a towel from her locker and padded over the damp floor toward the shower room. A warm shower would be soothing, she decided. She’d make it nice and hot. It would stop the trembling, stop the chills down her back.

She turned at the entrance to the showers, thinking she heard someone again. She listened. Again, silence.

She stepped into the large shower room with its stained tile walls, its row of chrome shower heads. The floor was puddled with cold water, left over from last-period gym class.

Bobbi shivered.

I’m so cold. So cold.

As she reached up to turn on the water, metal doors nearby slammed shut with a clang.

“Huh?”

At first Bobbi wasn’t sure what had happened. She jumped, startled by the loud, unexpected noise. Maybe someone had entered the dressing area outside, she decided.

But then she saw that the shower room doors had been closed.

That’s weird, she thought. She turned on the water.

And screamed as scalding water burst out of the shower head with a roar, striking her chest, her shoulders.

“Ow!”

She dodged away. But the next shower head was spraying down hot water, too, scalding hot, burning hot.

“Help!”

All the showers were turned on now. Scalding hot water shooting out of all of them.

Something’s wrong, Bobbi realized, stumbling back in a panic, her chest burning, her legs burning. Something’s terribly wrong.

“Ow!”

She slipped and toppled backward, landing with a splash in a steaming puddle.

“Help!”

Scrambling to her feet, she saw that the hot water was rising rapidly. The drain appeared to be clogged.

“Ow!”

The water was nearly an inch deep already, and so hot, it burned her feet.

The steam rose like a thick, choking curtain.

Gasping in the hot, wet air, Bobbi lunged for the doors. She tugged on the handles. “Hey—” They wouldn’t move.

“Hey—”

She struggled to push open the doors. But they were stuck. Or blocked. Or locked.

“Hey—!”

The steam was thick. She felt as if her lungs were burning, filling up. It was so hard to breathe.

Crying out from the pain of the scalding water, she hopped back to the wall of shower heads, reached for the first control knob, turned it, turned, turned. . . .

To her horror the water didn’t slow. Didn’t grow colder.

Frantically she turned another knob. Another. Another.

“Ow!”

She couldn’t shut them off.

“I can’t breathe!” The steam was so thick, so hot. “I can’t see!”

She slipped, stumbling back to the double doors.

“Help me!” She choked out a desperate cry. “Somebody—help!”

The water was up over her ankles. Why wouldn’t it drain? She danced wildly, a dance of unbearable pain.

“Help me! I can’t—breathe!”

The rush of water became a roar.

She closed her eyes and covered her ears.

The roar didn’t go away.

The pain didn’t go away.

The roar grew louder.

Then all was silence.

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 593