It Had To Be You

'Sometimes it feels good to help other people.' When Molly failed to respond, Phoebe continued her cautious probing. 'At least you get to go to school with boys.'

Molly became very busy picking at the tag on a pair of jeans. Phoebe tried again. 'What's it like?'

'What do you mean?'

'Going to school with boys.'

'They're big show-offs. And they're disgusting in the lunchroom.'

'What about the boys in the advanced classes? Are they show-offs, too?'

'Some of them, I suppose. But a lot of them are nerds.'

Phoebe suppressed a smile. 'I've always liked nerds. There's nothing sexier in a man than intelligence. Of course, there is something to be said for dumb and cute.'

Molly giggled, and for a few moments the barriers between them dissolved. 'The boy who has a locker next to mine has long hair. He's really loud and obnoxious, always making guitar noises, but he's kind of cute, too.'

'Is he?'

'He's in my advanced English class, but he's having trouble keeping up.'

'Maybe you could offer to help him out.'

'He doesn't even know who I am.' Molly shoved a sack out of the way, her face clouding. 'Nobody likes me. All the girls are bitches. If you're not a Pom Pom and you don't have the right clothes, they won't even talk to you.'

Now Phoebe understood what had motivated the shopping spree. 'I'm sure all the girls aren't that way. You just have to find the right group. It'll take time.'

'I don't care about them! You told me that I only had to stay a semester, and then I'm leaving.'

Defeated, Phoebe rose from the side of the bed. 'Enjoy your new clothes. I wish we could have gone shopping together. I would have liked that.'

Maybe she imagined it, but she thought she saw a flash of uncertainty cross her sister's face.

Just before bedtime that night, Phoebe clipped Pooh's fuchsia leash to her collar and led her outside for a walk. After the danger of Manhattan's streets, she loved this quiet residential area where she had the freedom to walk at night without worrying about becoming a statistic.

The town houses butted up against an area of wooded parkland. A paved bicycle path lit by an occasional streetlamp ran along the fringe. She loved the dense quiet, the loamy smell of the woods, and the crispness in the night air that announced the end of summer.

Pooh trotted ahead, sometimes stopping to poke her nose at a pile of acorns or beneath a clump of dry leaves, occasionally squatting to leave her mark on a particularly blissful spot. Phoebe's sneakers squeaked on the sidewalk, and the fleecy sweatshirt she wore was warm and cozy. For a few moments she let everything unpleasant slip away and enjoyed the night quiet.

Her sense of well-being was broken by the sound of a car turning into her court. She watched it slow down in front of her condo, then begin to pull into her driveway only to come to a stop as the headlights caught her. The driver immediately backed the car and drove toward her. Even before the vehicle stopped at the curb, she saw that it was a red Ferrari.

She tensed as Dan unfolded from the car and came toward her. He was wearing his glasses, and he'd thrown a Stars' windbreaker over a plum-colored shirt and jeans. Pooh began barking and straining at the end of her leash to get to him.

She tried to brace herself for what was certain to be another painful encounter, but it had been a difficult, exhausting day, and she didn't have many resources left.

He looked down at the fluffy white poodle trying to lasso his ankles with her leash. 'Hey there, dawg.'

'Her name is Pooh.'

'Uh-huh. I guess it's just one of those words I don't like to use too often. Like 'snookums'.' The breeze rumpled his dark blond hair as he took her in from sweatshirt to sneakers. 'You look different. Cute.'

She'd been called many things, but never cute. 'What do you want?'

'How about a little meaningless chitchat for starters? Nice evening, isn't it?'

She couldn't let herself be pulled into whatever game he was playing, so she tugged on Pooh's leash and began walking. He fell into step next to her, adjusting his long stride to accommodate her shorter one.

'Weather's real nice. It's still hot during the day, but at night, you can tell fall's coming.'

She said nothing.

'This is a real pretty area.'

She continued walking.

'You know, you might think about contributing a little something to this conversation.'

'We bimbos don't think.'

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and said quietly, 'Phoebe, I'm sorry. My temper got the best of me. That's no excuse, I know, but it's the truth. If anybody's a bimbo, it's me.'

She had expected anger, not regret, but his attack that morning had wounded her too deeply, and she said nothing.

'It seems I'm always apologizing to you for something. It's been like that from the beginning, hasn't it?'

'I guess we're oil and water.'

He ducked beneath a tree branch that dipped too low over the path. 'I'd say we're more like gasoline and a blowtorch.'

'Either way, I think we should try to avoid each other as much as possible.' She stopped near one of the streetlamps. 'I can't do anything about the suspension, you know. Ron refuses to lift it, and I won't countermand his orders.'

'You know you're violating my contract.'

'I know.'

'The last thing you need right now is a lawsuit.'

'I know that, too.'

'How about we make a deal?'

'What kind of deal?'

'You keep me company next Saturday afternoon, and I keep my lawyers away from you.'

That was the last thing she'd expected.

'I'm going to fly south for a couple of days to Gulf Shores. We call it the Redneck Riviera, and I have a place on the beach there. When I get back, I'll have some spare time on my hands. That big old house. Nothing to do. There's a local art show on Saturday, and since I know how much you like art, I thought we might check it out.'

She stared at him. 'Are you telling me you're not going to fight this suspension?'

'That's what I'm telling you.'

'Why?'

'I've got my reasons, and they're private.'

'I won't tell.'

'Don't push it, Phoebe.'

'Please. I want to know.'

He sighed and she thought she saw something that looked very much like guilt flash across his features. 'If you repeat this, I'll call you ten different kinds of a liar.'

'I won't repeat, it.'

'The suspension is going to hurt the team, and I don't like that. It'll take a miracle for us to win this Sunday, and it'll be tough to recover from one and four. But I'm not fighting it because Ron finally did the right thing. I was way out of line. I just never expected him to call me on it.'

She finally smiled. 'I don't believe it. You actually called him Ron.'

'It slipped out, so don't count on it happening again.' He began walking. 'And don't think I've changed my opinion about him just because he finally showed some gumption. The jury's still out as far as I'm concerned. Now what about Saturday?'

She hesitated. 'Why, Dan? We've already agreed that we don't mix well.'

'I'm not siccing my lawyers on you. Isn't that a good enough reason?'