With one ally down, Jordan must continue the search for clues alone.
Is Jordan getting closer to the MacGuffin, or is trouble closing in on Jordan?

The Case of
The Missing MacGuffin
A Jordan Hailey Story
By Jan S
Some More Chapters

Posted only through the efforts of my friends and beta readers, Daphne and Kristina, and because of the good well of readers like you. Many, many thanks to all of you!

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8: Reset

Like a matador following the death of the bull, I stood, alone, on the blood stained gravel. The sunlight poured down on me; the smell of destruction was in my nostrils. The silent, gaping crowd that had come from the diner at the end of the fight surrounded me, and I watched the lights of the car taking Andy's mangled body to the hospital recede into the distance.

The waitress approached me and said, "Are you OK, honey? Are you hurt anywhere?"

I had to examine my own arms and hands -- consciously inventory my body -- to be sure that I was unhurt. I had no bruises or cuts. That seemed an injustice. I don't know if that was because I felt I deserved some, or because it was so unfair that only Andy was to suffer.

I shook my head, and Maggie put her arms around me and pulled the rip in the side of my top closed. "That'd get real embarrassing if you had gone to the hospital, hon." she said.

"Ohhh, did those assholes see it?" I whispered to her, and I tried to hold the seam shut. The rip was huge.

Maggie laughed. "Nope. They would have said something, and it would have been real loud. You were just moving way too fast, honey. Come on; you get cleaned up, and I'll have my brother bring some of his daughter's clothes over and then give you a ride home."

There were lockers for the waitresses in a room behind the ladies', and she left me with some cotton balls and makeup remover. Standing beside the door, she said, "I'm real happy that Andy has found someone like you, hon."

"We're just friends; he is serious about Tracy."

"Sure, sure, I'll remember that if that's how you want it."

I got the makeup off. My face had been a total mess but, when I started to redo it, I had to stop and sit down first, and think.

Andy's whole career was ruined. I knew it. How could someone throw a football ever again once their hand had been crushed?

All I knew about the MacGuffin was that it was missing. At least now I knew those Ferral creeps were in on it with Kipperman. But I didn't know how I was going to get any information from them.

Blair was free, but was still under suspicion. So was I. They had my description; knew about my hats, someone would eventually tell the cops I often wore red caps; they would have my name soon if they didn't already.

And I didn't know what step to take next.

Maggie came back in carrying a stack of clothes. She put them on the bench, sat down and put her arms around me.

"It's OK, hon," she said. "That was scary. Let it out."

"No," I said shaking my head. That wasn't what I needed to do at all.

I asked her what would happen to Andy now that he could never play football again, and she said, "We don't know for sure, Hon, but he sure might play real soon. Just don't worry 'bout it, and we'll all see. That's all we can do. Things like that always look horrible at first, and he is a tough and strong boy."

She told me that he broke a wrist last year and finished the game. I couldn't believe that, and this had to be different, worse, anyway.

I mentioned the MacGuffin, and she had heard about it last night from the late crowd. I told her the cops suspected a girl and a boy I knew of being involved, and that the Ferral players talked like they knew something, and that I need to find out what the cops thought now.

She said that her brother might be able to tell me something. And then we looked through the clothes he had brought.

Maggie's brother must have grabbed everything in two or three drawers or something, but her niece was even shorter than me. The shorts and jeans wouldn't work at all. I had on a pair of my sister's old panties that held things pretty well, but anything tighter than what I had on would have shown things I didn't want showing.

I looked through the tops. Most were chemises or tees that would be very tight, so I picked up a swing dress.

Maggie said. "That isn't going to fit you. Try on these shorts."

"I was going to wear it just as a top, and keep my jeans on. I think that would work."

"You should see the back of your pants, hon. They're filthy with oil and grease all over."

I looked at my back in the mirror and she was right; I couldn't wear these jeans. But I also couldn't wear any of her niece's shorts.

There was really only one option: a twirl skirt, teal with plaid trim. It must have been long on Maggie's niece, but would still be short on me. And it isn't like I had the hips to make me want to push it down very far.

There was one shirred square-necked top that flared and wouldn't be too tight. It was bright yellow with a thin green ivy print, but it would have to do. The print was light enough not to clash with the teal too badly.

Maggie didn't look like she would leave while I changed, but I faced the corner and, except for my undersized backside, I don't think she saw anything unusual about me.

The top reached my navel - if I kept my arms straight down. There were about three inches between its bottom and the skirt's top even then. I looked in the mirror and moved my hands over the place where some curves should have been. This was worse than the outfit I'd worn last night, and much worse than the embroidered jeans and a pink top that had reached my waist.

Maggie said, "OK. stop admiring your skinny body, and get busy. Your legs could use a shave, but they are very pretty. You should take care of them and show them off more."

I smiled because I knew she expected me to. "I don't think about it at the right times." My legs did have some stubble, but I had shaved them at camp too, and what little hair I had was light anyway. "Do they look that bad?"

"I've seen much worse around this place, but it'd sure make you feel better, hon." she said.

She looked through several lockers and turned around with a bottle of Nair. "Put this on your legs while you do your makeup. That should be long enough. Use those kitchen rags over there to wipe it off. Doesn't look like you need to go much past your knees.

"I got to get out front. Lloyd will be getting all antsy, and the cook and the girls will be getting POed. This is my place, but that just means I get the worst hours and have more bosses than anyone else. I'll talk to Lloyd about the MacGuffin while you finish up."

She didn't give me a chance to object, and I worried that if I went into the diner without using the goo, she might ask me about it in front of the whole room.

I could say I had been on a swim team, but that would be a lie, something I didn't like to do. I could start running in sweat pants all the time. And Andy was right, if anyone on the cross country team did notice my legs, they would never admit it. Also, a girl with hairy legs got more looks than a boy without any anyway. No one really looked at boys, at least not short geeky ones.

When I walked back into the cafe, there were more customers than before, and Maggie was waiting on a table. There was a policeman in the booth near the back cursing at his laptop, and he looked up and said, "There you are. About time, and I thought I told you to keep Andy out of trouble last night."

It took me a second to recognize him, but it was Officer Benwell who had help us with Andy. I said hello, and asked if he was Maggie's brother. He said he was and told me to sit down.

Maggie was going towards the kitchen and said, "Don't give her a hard time, Lloyd. She tried to protect Andy. You should have seen her fighting off that pack of goons."

I said, "Thank you for the clothes."

"Sure thing. Hailey, right? Maggie told me about those Ferral boys but if Andy won't press charges, there ain't much I can do. Officially."

He said that in a way that made it clear there were some unofficial things that might be done.

"Is that a Makina?" I asked, looking at the computer that was giving him trouble

"Yeah, piece of junk if you ask me. You know about computers?"

"A little," I said.

I wasn't one of the top techies at my school, but sometimes I could understand what they were talking about. Makina was a new company, and their computers ran a new platform called the DayOS-X. It was sometimes quirky, but sometimes it would deliver fantastic results. A DayOS-X Makina had been high on my birthday wish list, but a phone was good too, and I had no hopes of getting both.

The cop said, "Well, the town's givin' us all one of these things to use in the cruisers. Maggie said you were worried about what was goin' on with the MacGuffin, and I've been off so I haven't heard the news, but it might be in here somewhere, and I can't get the darn thing to work. Want to try?"

"Sure," I said. Something told me there was probably a regulation somewhere against me using the cop database. But when I asked the officer to type in the password, he asked me today's date and he told me the password. Then he added, 'I guess I can tell you. It changes every day and you would have to have one of our computers anyway."

It was today's date, month - day - year, with seven added to each part, and the zip code for the town center typed with the shift key held down.

I opened the local network and did a search for the MacGuffin. I got to the report but acted like I was still searching while I read it. All the phone lines from the clubhouse went dead at six forty-three, before Blair and I had reached the park. That had killed all the silent alarms, but after fifteen minutes without service a policeman had been sent to check on the wires, and he had met Kipperman and noticed the broken window

This morning glass from the window was found inside the MacGuffin's case. So the police knew that someone on the inside was involved, and the window was broken after the MacGuffin was taken. In spite of that, they still thought high school students had been involved. Blair was under suspicion because she was known to own, and wear, a white sports coat (the only one in town??). That had been reported by an anonymous informant identified only as a friend from Northfield High School.

They were still looking for the boy she had lent it to and, also, a boy that wore black shirts and a red baseball cap, me. Blair was restricted to her house and school, even if she didn't know it, and was supposed to be "observed and companions noted" by all officers. That was strange: was she under house arrest or to be watched?

Mr Benwell took the computer. He had just told me that the police still thought students were involved when Maggie came over and sat with us while she waited for an order from the kitchen.

She said, "Lloyd, you found out where Hailey lives yet?"

"Oh," I said, "I not going home. I'm supposed to be meeting my mother right now. Could you give me a ride to the town center instead? It's closer than my house anyway."

Maggie was surprised. "You're meeting you mom!? Right now?"

"Yeah, I'd like to go home, I guess, but we already had plans."

"You must have a great mom," she said. "What are you'll planning this afternoon?"

It was strange having a stranger so interested and worried about me, but nice. I couldn't help smiling. "It's my birthday next week, and she's finally going to get me a phone. Then she's going to drop me off to get my ears pierced today too."

Maggie wanted all the details, and we talked about it until Lloyd said he had to go.

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9: Vouchers

It was well after two when I got to the Starbuck's to meet Mom. She was sitting on a bench along the back wall, and ordinarily she would have just started to steam, but when she saw me her eyes and mouth flew open.

She was the first person who really let me talk about Andy and his hand. I had finished telling her of it before she did anything but stare at me. Then she wrapped me in a hug, something we didn't usually do in public.

Once we were in the car, however, she started the interrogation about my clothes. I had to explain about borrowing them. I explained about getting the breast forms on line and why my legs were hairless. I had to explain about learning to do makeup while working on the school play and listen while she gave me advice that I'll probably never need again. She didn't make any responses really; she only found new lines of inquiry within each of my explanations.

When we were walking to the mall from the car, she took my hand and, as we walked through the door, she said, "That's the first time we have held hands in over four years, and for two years before that you always looked like mine was covered in slime when we did."

I leaned into her side. I started to try to explain about that, but she interrupted and said, "I know, Jor. It wasn't me. It was what you thought other people would think."

She didn't seem to be in a horrible mood at all, just sort of confused, so I said, "Mom, do you think we could look for a bag while I'm here. Something I could use at school -- on normal days -- too."

"You got a new back pack in April. You can still use that, I'm sure, but we'll get you a purse, and you can give me the gift card Sammie will send you next week."

I grimaced. Sammie, a.k.a. Samantha Hailey, is my big sister, the smart one in my family, currently a brand new freshman at an east coast university (the kind that doesn't recruit people like Andy), and the pride and joy of both my parents. However, if any of the stories I've heard are half true, she isn't half as bad as big sisters can be. I didn't want to surrender her whole present for one dumb bag.

There was also something else, and this seemed like a good time to bring it up too. "Uh -- I sort of lost my shoes. See -- they got wet -- Andy was using this squirt gun. And I took them off, and when I went back they weren't where I took them off. I was planning to use Sammie's gift card for some new ones." Well, no clause in that was untrue.

She said, "New tennis shoes will take your grandmother's gift card, Jordan."

"Na-uh, only half!" It was my sixteenth birthday; I had big expectations.

Mom laughed at me. "Alright, we will get you some sort of messenger bag and new shoes in exchange for the card from Grandmom, and you can keep the one from Sammie."

This time I gave her a hug. Then I said, "Grandmom's gift card will be even bigger than that, won't it? And we're still going to go get my ears pierced though, right?"

She chuckled, a good sign. "Yes, yes, I promised, and I guess we will work out payment after you get the cards, and your other relatives will probably give you gift cards, Jordan; everyone knows the one thing you ever want.

"Uncle Greg and Aunt Diane will send me two too, right?" That was an old family joke. My Mom's twin brother married my father's cousin, Diane, after they met at my parent's wedding. They always sent my sister and me two sets of presents, since they were related in two ways. Though I knew now they were the same amount as one would have been, it was a big deal when Sammie and I were kids.

First I got my new Phone. It was a refurb, but with a qwerty keyboard and camera, and it could do videos. It's white - though the guy tried to force me to get pink or teal.

I got some shoes from Lady Foot Locker that were silver-grey with royal blue soles and trim. They would work when I wasn't in costume too.

Mom became quieter and quieter as we walked through the mall. But she still wasn't angry, not huffing, nor sighing, nor biting her lip. She was just very disquietingly pensive, and she kept holding my hand most of the time.

I found a light blue bag with red leather-like trim and lots of pockets at Macy's. It looked like a small camera bag so I could use it for school and not draw too much crap. (Even using the wrong pen draws some.)

While I was looking at the bags, there were two boys pretending to look at belts but who were really watching me. I had seen them standing outside the shoe store too.

My mother told me to stop tugging at my shirt, because I kept trying to stretch it out, make it longer, so I asked her if I could buy a new top.

That was when she did bite her lip. Then she sighed that way only she ever does, and that she only ever does when talking to me. "No! No! Shoes and purses are all I can handle," she said.

"You're totally freaked, huh?"

She nodded, then shrugged her shoulders.

It wasn't until the car was out of the parking lot that either of us said anything else, and then she said, "Jordan, I know that it is just because you want to be in disguise today, and because you didn't have many choices after that fight, but I don't ever want to see you in clothes like that again.

"The next time your skirt had better be at least three inches longer than that one. I would have grounded your sister for wearing something like that."

I laughed hard and said, "Mom, I'm only doing this to find out things about last night and to help Blair. And that's why I wanted to get something else."

"You said a top. It's the skirt that's almost indecent."

I looked at my legs; she wasn't totally wrong. "Those two boys kept staring at me, Mom! I don't exactly have a shape to show off in a crop top. I think they knew I wasn't a girl."

Now she laughed. "That's what worried you? Jor-Jor, most girls don't have Barbie's curves. Lot's of girls as skinny as you are would show off their stomachs, love. And if I were a boy I'd have stared too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. You aren't going to get many modeling jobs but, if that isn't your goal, you look fine."

"My only goal is to help Blair, Mom."

She did her patented sigh thing again. "Jordan, I know. You've told me that. And I know that is the reason you are out and about like this, but I don't know how you feel about it, and I don't think you would tell me if you could."

"I'm just doing it for Blair. Really, truly, honest. I'm not lying."

"I know that, puppy. I do. I know you don't out and out lie, or at least only very, very rarely and never without feeling real, real guilty about it later. You do, however, obfuscate and equivocate. And, let's see, you deliberately mislead people; you change the subject without telling anyone. You might leave out important elements, and then you don't bother to correct the misconceptions you've created. . ."

"OK. I get the idea. You know, both my parents are lawyers."

"No. They don't teach those skills in law school. Law schools teach you how to write agreements and ask questions that make it hard to do things like that. Then, after law school, some lawyers become experts at circumventing other people's language. But they don't require the avoidance skills on the exams.

"Jor, I think equivocating is something teenagers develop naturally, but you have a special talent for it. And that is why I'm not going to ask you about it at all. Talk to me when you want to, if you ever do."

"I really am only doing this today for Blair and to get the MacGuffin back."

"Just stop, sweetie. Don't explain anymore."

So no matter what I said, she wasn't going to believe that I didn't wear girl's clothes all the time, and nothing was going to convince her I didn't like doing it.

We had to park about two blocks from Hotz'n, the store where I was going to get my ears pierced. I changed into my new shoes and plugged my new phone in to charge before I got out.

Mom held my hand again as we walked up the street; I was getting used to that. But then she huffed loudly and said, "If this store has them, I want you to buy some capris or bike shorts to wear under that skirt. Something long enough to make it clear you don't think wearing that is being dressed."

"OK." I kind of moaned. "I don't think they have anything here, but I'll probably go to the mall for dinner with Blair and Tracy. Can I get a new top too? Do I have to pay for them with my money?"

She chuckled rather than sighed; that was a good sign. "You really have me between a rock and another rock, don't you? If I pay for them, I'm enabling something I don't want to, but I don't like to make you pay for something you will say you won't use again. And stop worrying about your navel and worry about your crotch, boy. -- Ugh, I hope no one heard me say that."

There was almost no one on the street, so I giggled at that a little. I took her to mean she would pay for the new things and leaned my head onto her arm. "It's just because of the MacGuffin and Andy and Blair, Mom."

"Just shut up, Jordan. I don't want to hear all that again."

She warned me that my father would be home this afternoon, but told me that they were going out about seven. I knew she meant I shouldn't come home before then; I was stuck in these clothes at least that long. But she agreed to unlock my window if she and dad got home tonight before I did. Mom even said I could use my emergency credit card for dinner and anything I needed tonight.

She was being really compliant, but I wasn't sure if that was because she was worried, or just liked me dressed like this, or was being nice in the way the guards on death row are nice to the condemned.

The store was dimly lit, most of the light coming from spot lights on the displays. The only clerk had on lots of black eye shadow, half inch silver buttons and two other studs in each ear, very bright red lips and finger nails, and wore a solid black plain tee shirt but with the collar pulled down to mid-chest and held in place with a gaudy rhinestone broach.

Blair had told me they carry gaffs and things for cross dressers here, but I had always known of it as a t-shirt/goth-wannabe/costume shop. The things Blair was talking about must be kept in a back room or something.

While she filled out the permission papers for the piercings, I walked around and looked for something to hide my bleached hair since the cops were looking for a boy with white hair now. Also, it would be good to find a way to make Hailey Jordan look different from Jordan Hailey if I was going to have to appear as a girl a lot. That meant I needed temporary dyes. The spray on colors are awful, they come off on clothes and everything else and don't last long enough to even trick-or-treat, but rinses wouldn't have enough color, so I picked up a can of the yellow spray on stuff.

As I looked at the costume thing, thought about the police report and how it didn't name the person who reported that Blair wore a white jacket last night. And the person who reported that hadn't given my name as the boy with white hair. That was an important clue. Who had recognized Blair and not known me? Kipperman had not said anything at all about the white hair.

Also why were the police supposed to observe Blair and her associates, if she was under house arrest? It was just screwy.

I should have looked deeper when I had the Makina open. Another mistake.

Mom wanted to wait for me, but I knew I was going to take a lot longer than she expected and that she still had to go back to her office, so I assured her I'd be fine. There is a free shopper's shuttle that would take me almost right to Tracy's.

I got into the barber chair that was used for piercing. The clerk put the keepers in both ears before saying a word to me, and then said, "Here's what we have for the trainers for bellybuttons. Can't do keepers there. So you're stuck with one of these things for six weeks."

I said, "Huh. I'm not getting that done too."

"Your mother checked the box for it on the form. I didn't even ask her first. You want it done?"

I guess Mom was telling me my stomach, and my dressing, was OK. I picked a red glass bead for my navel, and I got some silver disks and some pink and blue zirconium flowers with dangling green beads for my lobes.

While I was leaning back to get the navel done, the clerk said, "You mother is pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah, sometimes, whatever."

"Mine wouldn't let me go out like that at all."

I explained the clothing emergency, and the clerk laughed.

"Not just that! My mother sees me in a sarong and goes totally ape. Look, there are things I notice that most people wouldn't, you know. You're good, but I did get suspicious. I guess tilting this chair back is unfair; I'm not a lecher but I had to check.

And, well, I didn't mention it to embarrass you, you know? It's just that - well I don't try to pass all the time - but you might not want to bring it up, and maybe I could sometimes - help you or something."

I almost swallowed my tongue, but it wasn't a disaster with this person. I said, "Yeah, well, like I said, I didn't have much choice today. Are you Terry?"

"No, he's at lunch. Everyone calls me Quinn or just "Q", and I already know you're Jordan, right? Is that the name you like to go by?"

It's OK, or Hailey. Whichever you like."

"So how long have you been dressing?"

"Huh? Oh, like a girl. Umm, I've done cross dress days at camp and went to an anime thing once, you know, like that."

"Come on! What else? You don't have to pass for those things, and I don't care how fem you are usually, you've had practice."

"Last year I went Christmas shopping with my sister, wearing her stuff."

"OK. All right. Did she blackmail ya'? Or just threaten to beat you up? Or what?"

I chuckled. "No. Nothing like that. We just thought it would be some Lolz."

"Good. No excuses. Who told you to talk to Terry, Hailey?"

"Do you know a girl named Blair?"

"I know a few Blairs."

"Blair Lu."

"Lou Blair. Yeah, I know him."

My eye brows must have shot up. The clerk said, "Him. Her. Around here pronouns get problematic."

"'K. She told me to talk to Terry about some things I could use sometimes. What pronouns do you like people to use for you, Q?"

"Me? Don't care. It's fun to see what people pick, and to watch the ones that have trouble. If you ever meet Terry though, use male ones. He thinks it's a big compliment when people do.

"You can talk to me about those things you need if you want. You shaved down there?"

I shook my head, and he said, "Well you're gonna have to someday. I'm going to give you some of these new patches. It's a two part system. They're great, because you just slap them down, and they grab things. And you can pull off the top part if things get hard. You can't go naked, but short of that they are the best. And I'll get a gaff for now. Do you know how to use them?"

I had read some instructions on line and had a pretty good idea. It didn't seem difficult.

When I got back from the dressing room, I had to lift the skirt up, and Q said, "OK, you got that right. But I'm not selling you that spray on hair crap. Really, there's this new, fantastic stuff. And I'm not just being a salesman. 'Cause, look at me! I'd suck at it. But if it wasn't real, and showed up in a story, you would say it was proof of the existence of an author."

The hair dye was called Dev-Ice and was made by a theatrical make up company, PlaHot. It was just what I needed. It works even on black hair. It doesn't come off even when wet but, when washed with a special shampoo, it disappears completely.

Q showed me how to apply it. It combed into the hair with a special brush. We did my whole head; I left the store with my white hair hidden under pink and blue neon streaks. I got six shades of the stuff and three bottles of the remover. It all fit into my new bag, but it all weighed half a ton.

I also had a blue French manicure on half inch nails that I could peel off and reused, a new ring with two little silver bells on it, a set of pink and a set of red nails like the ones I was wearing, a bracelet that looked like a tiny silver and green ivy vine on my ankle, and some new sunglasses with red lens that could be taken out and replaced with green, blue, or clear ones.

I also bought a new t-shirt, for boy mode, because Quinn had rung up some of the other purchases as shirts, and my father might ask to see them. I had used up all my birthday cash and was going to need a giant finder's fee for this case. And I was going to need it before the credit card bill reached my house.

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10: Motion

It was a three block walk to the bus stop for the Shopper's Shuttle. As soon as I left the shop, this boy on a bicycle, about fourteen or so, started following me. After riding by and coming back a few times, he found the guts to offer to carry my bag and even offered me a ride on his handle bars.

It was flattering - he sure hadn't read me - and funny - at first.

"I'm Bobby. Where you going?" he asked.

"Just to see a friend."

"So you gonna be a freshman at Northfield?"

I laughed and said, "Why doesn't anyone ever think of Southlake?"

"Cuz they suck."

I just kept walking, so he said, "No. It's 'K, just lots of nerds there though."

Southlake High was right next to the University campus. I don't know if that just caused their reputation or really did affect their students.

"Yep, that's me. Huge nerd."

"I haven't seen many nerds as cute as you."

I rolled my eyes. "So what sports do you play?"

"Why do you think I'm a jock?"

"Because you're trying to pick me up while I'm just walking along minding my own business."

"Yeah, OK. I play football, but I'm only on the Junior Varsity though. We've got lots of linebackers this year, so I have to wait to be an upper classman, even though I'm better."

"Uh-uh."

"So you hate jocks, huh."

"No! Some are really nice. Lots are real assholes that always hit on strange girls though."

"I'm not. It's just this is a bad area. I thought you would want some company, is all."

"OK, well here's my bus stop. See you."

"I can wait for your bus with you. Look, my brother is around here with his car, want me to call him and get you a ride."

"No. I'll be just fine, thank you."

"I'll wait with you. It's a public bus stop, so I can stay. Look there he is. You want to come for a ride?"

There was a dirty burgundy Subaru driving slowly up the street with two older boys in it. Bobby waved to them.

"I don't think so." At least the car kept moving, but I was getting worried. The car being there right then was too much of a coincidence.

"Well, do you want to go to movie or get a burger sometime? What's your number? I'll call you sometime." Bobby wasn't going to give up; typical jock jerk.

"You would have to meet my father first. And, believe me he wouldn't be happy about it."

"Yuck. Is he really that strict? He's gotta meet everyone you go get a burger with."

"No, that's a special rule I made just for you."

"Ohh - you are so cruel. I'm really really nice. Really."

The Subaru was coming up the street again, and this time it pulled over to the curb. Bobby rolled his bike towards it and the boys in it opened their doors. The boy's looked familiar, but I couldn't place them.

I saw a bus on the other side of the street. The shuttle made a loop of the shopping district, and that one would take almost twice as long to get to Tracy's garage, but I ran across the middle of the street to catch it.

I almost fell into a seat at the front of the bus. I needed to get some new clothes soon! Even if that did mean my mother was right. And there was an Old Navy right on the bus route, but I also knew that Blair was going to be getting steamed as hell about her phone.

Her phone! I was so use to always being out of touch I had forgotten that I could call her. I didn't want to invade her privacy and look though her directory though, so I took a chance and hit the 'T' key.

"Is this Chuck?" the voice, that did sound like Tracy, said.

"Tracy? No -- do I have the right number?"

I heard what could only be Tracy's giggle on the phone. "Yes, Jordie, it's me. We heard about your Chuck Norris routine. The whole Ferral team at one time, huh?"

"It wasn't like that, Tracy. How did you hear about it? Is Blair there?" I needed to talk to someone sane.

"Yeah, and Andy has called about twelve times looking for you. He wants to be sure we get you to the scrimmage tonight. Jorie, I think it's love."

"Isn't he in the hospital? Just let me talk to Blair."

"Na-uh. They let him go, and he really wants to see you tonight. Uh - Blair doesn't want to talk to you, Jor. She wants her phone though. Where are you?"

"I'm on the bus on my way there. What is she so pissed about?"

"Well you running off with her phone, and we saw you and your mom at the mall and, I guess, she thought you should have brought it to her before you went out shopping, and strutting your stuff in those clothes, guy. Anyway she didn't want to talk to you there, just got weird about it. I thought you looked hot as heck, Jor. Are you still dressed like that, babe?"

Sigh "I'll be at your garage in about twenty minutes. Is that where you are? We're still talking to Kipperman when he comes to get his truck, right?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I have to wait 'til the office closes, so all the men can watch some pre-season football game but, Jor, Kipperman doesn't come to get his own trucks. He'll send some worker to get it."

shit - shit - shit

Just then two girls moved up from the back of the bus and sat right behind me. It was Lori Peters and Sydney Greenway, the two girls we had run into at the park last night. Things just kept going downhill faster and faster.

"Shiii - Well," I said into the phone, "I'll see you in a few."

"OK, wait" Tracy said, "You should call Andy, and tell him what you're doing. He won't be at practice yet."

I could hear her talking to Blair, then she said, "Andy is pound sign 2 on Blair's phone. Call him; don't break his heart, Jor."

"OK," I whisered, "I have some idiots listening right now though. Bye."

Before I'd pushed the button to end the call, Sydney said, "You're that girl that was with Blair last night, huh?"

I didn't answer and, unperturbed, she took that as an admission. "It's OK with us if you're like that. We were just saying is all."

I still said nothing.

Lori said, "I guess, you know the school didn't get blown up by now, huh?" then she snickered about it.

"Yeah, never really thought it had. You heard any more rumors yet?"

She snickered. "We knew last night. Someone took the MacGuffin."

Sydney said, "Guess everyone knows by now. So we can tell you."

I think Lori was still wearing the same clothes she had on last night. Sydney had at least changed her shirt, and now had on a tight fitting black knit one that reminded me that I left my shirt in Andy's car.

"Oh. Where did you hear that one?"

Lori snickered some more. "Oh, we know it."

"We've got inside information," Sydney said with some kind of a smirk on her face.

"OK, whatever." Like I was going to believe anything they had to say. "I need to call someone. Guess I'll see you around."

I started to move to the back, but Lori snickered again and said, "You know you look like a boy I know. Are you related to someone named Jordan?"

"I've got a cousin named Jordan." I did, several as a matter of fact, but it was their last names. "

"This guy goes to Northfield and he's a real super nerd, honor society and all that. Last name is Hailey."

I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Maybe that's my cousin. I need to make this call; I'll go to the back of the bus."

Sydney decided to be polite, since I was obviously trying to get rid of them. She told me their names and asked mine.

I said, "Hailey."

Snicker. "That nerd guy's?"

"Yeah, Jordan's mother's brother married Jordan's father's cousin. Means I have lots of double relatives. My mother gave me her maiden name as a first name. Jordan's mother gave Jordan her maiden name. She knew what she was doing but did it anyway."

Sydney said, "Oh, so Hailey Jordan, and he's Jordan Hailey. Weird."

"Yeah, it's not a problem; we aren't ever seen together."

Blair's phone rang, and it wasn't playing "I Kissed a Girl," so the call wasn't from Tracy. I wasn't going to answer but I had to look at it since Lori and Sydney heard it. The phone said it was Andy, and I got up and walked away.

"Andy! Are you OK?"

"Yeah, fine. No thanks to you, Sensei Jordan."

"Huh. What? Huh?"

Andy was laughing. "Just kidding, Hailey. Are you going to come and watch me tonight? Tracy told me about your new clothes. I can't wait to see them."

"Andy! Why aren't you in the hospital? You can't play tonight. Come on, be real."

"No, I just broke one little phalanx - not too badly - and partly dislocated a knuckle. Some scratches and some soft tissue injury. No biggie."

"Knock it the hell off. The doctors aren't going to let you play and you can't. Stay in the hospital and listen to them. Don't go into this macho bull."

"Hail, they've already sent me home. The doctor gave me stuff to reduce the swelling, and he will be at the game to give me a new shot of Novocain before I go in. You're lucky. My father and the coach would have killed you for starting that fight if I couldn't play."

"Andy, I'm serious. Don't! Don't let them make you. How can you anyway? I saw it; you can't throw a ball with that hand."

Andy was laughing at me. "That's why I love you, Hail. You have never even seen me play, have you? So I know you love me for something besides my being a football stud."

"Christ, Andy. So cut the shit. I heard they let you play with a broken wrist last year, and now they are doing it to you again, And you let them! It's only a practice game, jerk."

"Jordan, listen, really. I trust them because they need me. My father and the coach and the doctor don't want to use me up. Not when I still have two years of High School ball to go. OK? Last year I just had a little crack in a carpal. Sports pages call that a broken wrist, because it sounds better, and technically it is, but it isn't like a broken ulna or radius. It didn't even start to swell up until two hours after the game."

"Andy, stop acting like you're so damn smart. What a copal and all that? And how would you know?"

"The carpal is a little flat bone at the end of the palm. The phalanx is a finger bone, and a knuckle is the joint where the finger starts."

"Thanks, I'd heard of that one."

"Ulna and radius are the lower arm bones. Break one of those and your hand looks like one of Irish clubs Leprechauns have in about ten seconds. Hailey, just because I'm a jock doesn't make me stupid, not 'til after the third or forth concussion at any rate."

"I didn't say you were stupid, Andy. I don't think you're dumb."

"High Praise! Thank you. My body is the only tool of my trade, Hail. I listen when people talk about that stuff, and usually I take care of it. Except when some fool friend goes all kung fu panda on three apes."

"You do blame me, don't you?"

"Nah, just teasing. But, Jordan, you don't usually act like that. It could have been handled better."

"I didn't start it!"

"How many fights have you gotten into lately, Hail? You thought having tits and mascara on made you invincible today."

"F you, Andy. They were about to ruin my bikes."

"Oh, Jord, I'm not saying you were to blame or a bigger asshole than them. But you were already mad when we left the diner, and normally you would have reacted a little slower. You just didn't think anyone would attack a girl, and you let Pike have it. Most of the time, you would have been right, but Pike is a bigger asshole than most giant assholes.

"OK. I'm sorry, Andy. It was my fault, I guess." Was he really right? Did I do it?

"Don't over do it. You never did totally lose it like they did. But if you ever do, call me so I can watch, OK. And you kind of need to get your asshole meter recalibrated for when you're being a girl. I didn't think Pike would go that far either though.

"But do you feel guilty enough to came and watch me play tonight?"

"Yeah, and I got to see Mr Friend there too, remember?"

"Oh yeah, but will you come dressed like you were when Tracy saw you at the mall? I want to show you off."

"Andy, you're going to need Tracy still, so you can't do that. And my asshole meter has gotten better, I gotta get out of these things."

"Hey, I'm a superstar jock. I can have two girl friends, and Tracy won't mind."

"She might. I think she has plans for me now. How can you play with your hand like that? No way can you throw or take a hike. I don't care how much stuff they shoot into you."

Andy laughed loudly. "She does? That's wild! Well come dressed anyway. I just want to see it, and leave your bellybutton showing. She told me about your shirt."

"Maybe. How are you going to take hikes and stuff?"

"It's just an intersquad game, Hail. I'll probably only play a half, and we will start with the ball in my hands and just pretend to hike it. You really are worried about me, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, since it's all my fault."

"Oh, I just want you to be careful is all, Jor. Please. And to just say you like me, at least."

"Andy, so how do you throw with a broken hand?"

"I'll only tell you if you say you like me."

"You know the answer, but just not like that, Andy."

"Com'on. Say, 'I like you, Andy, and I'm worried you will get hurt.'"

"I like you, Andy, but not that way. And I'm worried you'll get hurt again."

"Will you come in a skirt and a cropped shirt to the scrimmage?"

"That wasn't the deal. How will you throw, Andy? I'm almost at my stop, so just tell me."

"If it mattered to you, you would know. I'm left handed. It's a big part of my skill set, Hail. Pike doesn't know that because he's an idiot. Now, are you going to wear the short shirt tonight?"

"Andy, do you keep forgetting you don't even like girls?"

"Hailey, do you keep forgetting you aren't one? I don't. Or are you? Well, at least your body isn't. Are you a girl really though?"

"That's all you like about me, huh? What's between my legs."

"Don't play that. No way is it like that. You're one of my favorite people, and your being killer cute is just an extra."

"Yeah, right. I need to get off the bus now. I'll see you tonight."

"And I'll see your navel tonight too? I really do think I really do love you."

"Shut the holy F up already. Bye."

"Bye, love."

I hung up and leaned back on the bench. I need to get this thing of Andy's straightened out. And fast. Was I leading him on somehow? I didn't mean to be.

I pulled the cord and the bus pulled to the stop across the street from the garage.

The driver said, "You other two need to get off here too. You've made three loops, and it's against the rules."

"We're not bugging anyone," Lori said.

"Don't care; it's the rule. Off now."

Sydney and Lori got off behind me. Sydney said, "'It's the rule.' Why do they need a dumb rule like that?"

I said, "They worry that people will stay on until the bus is empty and then rob the driver."

"We don't do that shit."

"Guess he doesn't know you all that well," I said.

They didn't really seem all that upset by the whole thing, and started walking across the street towards the garage.

"Are you going to the garage?"

"Nah," Lori said, "we will catch the bus going the other way."

The shuttles were free. I guess that made it a cheep thrill for some people. As she was walking across the street, I noticed that Sydney's black polo had a brown spot on the sleeve. I had on just like that on my shirt. It was made by a drop of bleach I think. The weird thing was, that her spot looked just like Florida and the one on mine looked just like Louisiana. Do you think that all bleach drops make the shape of a state? Or maybe it's means something that I see states in random blots.

My Rorschach self analysis ended when I saw a dirty, burgundy Subaru make a u-turn and head back towards me. I wasn't sure if it was that boy's brother or not, but I trotted the rest of the way to the garage. That car drove slowly up the road, and then sped away when I reached the door.