Valentine: Chapter 3
(Very short chapter, folks!)
Sam, always early for school, amused himself by popping his Heelies wheels into the back of his shoes, and coasting up and down the sidewalk in front of the small office building that was just a few feet over from the elementary kids' entrance. He hoped that his buddy would get there early enough for them to play something fun, or at least make plans to imagine themselves away from school during recess. David was rarely late for school, but he often showed up just on time. It depended on who drove him on any given day. Wilson was almost always at least ten minutes early, but House was always just in time for the first bell. Annoying to Sam, but he liked House a lot, so he refused to admit to himself that the man was anything other than a superhero doctor, and all-around great guy.
“Hi, Sammy!” It was Valentine Trepp, waving from the school grounds.
He waved back. “Hey.” Sammy liked Valentine. She was a friendly girl, and she played her cello like an adult. He'd often just copied her back when he was sick, when he was just too messed up to concentrate. She knew she was helping him, too. Sam was sure of that. As their cello instructor had each student play the passage they were working on that day, Valentine made sure to turn herself and her instrument slightly towards Sam so that he could see exactly what she was doing. One of these days, Sam thought he should thank her for that.
Valentine walked toward him, looking very pink in the puffy jacket she wore over her uniform. Sam wondered if girls weren't always cold when they wore skirts. He knew about tights - he'd tried them when he was Superman for Halloween when he was seven - they weren't all that warm, not to him, anyways.
“Hi, Sam.” Valentine smiled.
“Hi again, Valentine.” Sam tried to coast backwards a little bit, unsuccessfully.
She blushed a little bit. “I think it's amazing that you never get caught with your Heelies,” she said.
Sam grinned. “It's easy.” He pointed to the sidewalk between the two buildings. “The rule is, 'No Heelies on school property.'” He pointed to the white brick office building. “This isn't school property, see?” He thought his subversion was particularly cool.
Valentine couldn't have cared less. She was just making conversation, and figured that, by now, they'd shared enough idle chit-chat to broach a more serious subject. “Oh, that's interesting... Hey, Sam?”
Sam was a little disappointed that Valentine hadn't been intrigued and impressed with him, but cheerfully shrugged it off. He coasted forward again. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen David?”
Sam stopped himself before he ran into the girl. “Yeah, I see him all the time. He's my best friend.” Sam was being deliberately obtuse, just so Valentine would hang around a little longer and watch him show off.
Valentine rolled her eyes at him. “I meant TODAY, Sammy.”
“Oh, TODAY.” Sam shook his head. “Nope. But I'm sure he'll be here in... I dunno, sometimes he's just in time for the bell.”
“I know, and somehow he never gets in trouble for being late.”
“That's 'cause he isn't late. He's just very on time,” Sammy defended.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” Val blurted suddently.
“David?”
Valentine groaned her exasperation. It had taken a LOT of nerve to work up to what she really wanted to ask, and now Sammy was going to make her elaborate. “Uh..yeah. David. You know, maybe he's always just on time because of his girlfriend?” 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' Val thought to herself.
Sam shrugged. “No.”
Even Sam could see the relief in Valentines outward expression. He sensed a threat to the neatest friendship he'd ever had in his short life. Oh no - she wasn't gonna get all in between him and his bestest buddy.
“Well...I don't think so... maybe...”
Val squeaked out, “Maybe?”
“Well... there is this girl he knows,” Sam said slowly, embroidering as he went along. “See, SHE calls him her boyfriend, but David doesn't...” Sam slipped on his 'reporter' voice, effortlessly. “...he neither confirms nor denies...”
“Oh...”
“I met her at the hospital when I was sick. You know, at Princeton-Plainsboro. Her name's Lisa. She's always saying 'hello boyfriend' when she sees David. She even kisses him!” Sam stuck his hand in his pocket and crossed his fingers to further exempt himself from the exaggeration. Everything he was saying WAS true - Lisa WAS a girl, a grown-up one. She DID call David 'boyfriend' sometimes, but it was just a joke between them. And she DID kiss David. But that was allowed, since she was his godmother. It wasn't any different from getting kisses from a mom, or an aunt. 'That oughta do it,' Sam thought, shamelessly.
Wilson checked for opposing traffic and stray children at the stop sign in front of the little office building next to David's school.
“There's Sam,” David commented casually.
Wilson glanced over. “...and there's that little girl - Valentine.”
“Yeah...”
“David, I want you to be a gentleman and be friendly with girls. You don't have to be chummy, the way you are with Sammy, but I expect you to be polite, even if you aren't 'into girls' yet.” He drove up into the circular drive in front of the school, where they waited their turn to drop off. “Understand?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Honey...this is really important. You can't be a jerk, especially not to women.”
“I said okay, Wilson. I won't punch her.” David deliberately kept his face neutral to alarm his dad, as a joke.
Wilson's eyes widened, then narrowed. “You little devil,” he admonished.
David snickered.
When David trotted down the block to join Sam for the five minutes they had left before the first bell, he met Valentine, who was coming back to the school. She looked …kind of sad.
“Hi Valentine,” David said, first for a change.
“Hi,” the little girl in the pink jacket said quietly before she broke into a run back to the school.
David shrugged that off. He'd done as Wilson had instructed, so, as far as he was concerned, the matter was closed until he had to be polite again.
“Sam!”
“Hey buddy!” They looked around for anyone who might be watching, then completed the very complicated handshake ritual they had invented while Sam was in the hospital.
David leaned against the office building. “Uh... Sam... Can you come to my birthday on Saturday?”
Sam tripped over his feet, a common occurrence with him and his Heelies, and caught himself with one hand against the building. “Guess so.” He righted himself and walked a few feet to stand next to his friend, adopting the same stance. “I'll ask my mom. I'm sure she'll let me come to your party.”
“Not a party,” David corrected. “We're all going out to dinner - me and my parents, Lisa, and you.”
“Laaaaaaame,” Sam commented.
David didn't think it was lame at all. It had been his own idea. He figured it would be better than involving all the kids in his class. And anyway, the only reason he asked Sam was to look more normal to his parents. If David had had his way, it would have been just a few minutes at home, with maybe a piece of cake and a present, and then back to normal, watching movies on TV the way they always did on Saturday nights.
He recovered expertly, though. “Yeah, I know - parents. They make you do stuff, sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Like the sneaker thing.”
David frowned. “Sneaker thing?” He self-consciously glanced down at his shoes - his regular black leather school shoes. He only wore the sneakers on casual Fridays, sometimes. We his sneakers really lame?
“Yeah, you know - light-up sneakers? They're SO totally first grade, my man.” Sam patted his friend's shoulders. “I figure you only wear them because your folks make you.”
David pasted a weak smile on his face and coughed up a chuckle.
Then the bell rang.
What a relief!
Sam, always early for school, amused himself by popping his Heelies wheels into the back of his shoes, and coasting up and down the sidewalk in front of the small office building that was just a few feet over from the elementary kids' entrance. He hoped that his buddy would get there early enough for them to play something fun, or at least make plans to imagine themselves away from school during recess. David was rarely late for school, but he often showed up just on time. It depended on who drove him on any given day. Wilson was almost always at least ten minutes early, but House was always just in time for the first bell. Annoying to Sam, but he liked House a lot, so he refused to admit to himself that the man was anything other than a superhero doctor, and all-around great guy.
“Hi, Sammy!” It was Valentine Trepp, waving from the school grounds.
He waved back. “Hey.” Sammy liked Valentine. She was a friendly girl, and she played her cello like an adult. He'd often just copied her back when he was sick, when he was just too messed up to concentrate. She knew she was helping him, too. Sam was sure of that. As their cello instructor had each student play the passage they were working on that day, Valentine made sure to turn herself and her instrument slightly towards Sam so that he could see exactly what she was doing. One of these days, Sam thought he should thank her for that.
Valentine walked toward him, looking very pink in the puffy jacket she wore over her uniform. Sam wondered if girls weren't always cold when they wore skirts. He knew about tights - he'd tried them when he was Superman for Halloween when he was seven - they weren't all that warm, not to him, anyways.
“Hi, Sam.” Valentine smiled.
“Hi again, Valentine.” Sam tried to coast backwards a little bit, unsuccessfully.
She blushed a little bit. “I think it's amazing that you never get caught with your Heelies,” she said.
Sam grinned. “It's easy.” He pointed to the sidewalk between the two buildings. “The rule is, 'No Heelies on school property.'” He pointed to the white brick office building. “This isn't school property, see?” He thought his subversion was particularly cool.
Valentine couldn't have cared less. She was just making conversation, and figured that, by now, they'd shared enough idle chit-chat to broach a more serious subject. “Oh, that's interesting... Hey, Sam?”
Sam was a little disappointed that Valentine hadn't been intrigued and impressed with him, but cheerfully shrugged it off. He coasted forward again. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen David?”
Sam stopped himself before he ran into the girl. “Yeah, I see him all the time. He's my best friend.” Sam was being deliberately obtuse, just so Valentine would hang around a little longer and watch him show off.
Valentine rolled her eyes at him. “I meant TODAY, Sammy.”
“Oh, TODAY.” Sam shook his head. “Nope. But I'm sure he'll be here in... I dunno, sometimes he's just in time for the bell.”
“I know, and somehow he never gets in trouble for being late.”
“That's 'cause he isn't late. He's just very on time,” Sammy defended.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” Val blurted suddently.
“David?”
Valentine groaned her exasperation. It had taken a LOT of nerve to work up to what she really wanted to ask, and now Sammy was going to make her elaborate. “Uh..yeah. David. You know, maybe he's always just on time because of his girlfriend?” 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' Val thought to herself.
Sam shrugged. “No.”
Even Sam could see the relief in Valentines outward expression. He sensed a threat to the neatest friendship he'd ever had in his short life. Oh no - she wasn't gonna get all in between him and his bestest buddy.
“Well...I don't think so... maybe...”
Val squeaked out, “Maybe?”
“Well... there is this girl he knows,” Sam said slowly, embroidering as he went along. “See, SHE calls him her boyfriend, but David doesn't...” Sam slipped on his 'reporter' voice, effortlessly. “...he neither confirms nor denies...”
“Oh...”
“I met her at the hospital when I was sick. You know, at Princeton-Plainsboro. Her name's Lisa. She's always saying 'hello boyfriend' when she sees David. She even kisses him!” Sam stuck his hand in his pocket and crossed his fingers to further exempt himself from the exaggeration. Everything he was saying WAS true - Lisa WAS a girl, a grown-up one. She DID call David 'boyfriend' sometimes, but it was just a joke between them. And she DID kiss David. But that was allowed, since she was his godmother. It wasn't any different from getting kisses from a mom, or an aunt. 'That oughta do it,' Sam thought, shamelessly.
Wilson checked for opposing traffic and stray children at the stop sign in front of the little office building next to David's school.
“There's Sam,” David commented casually.
Wilson glanced over. “...and there's that little girl - Valentine.”
“Yeah...”
“David, I want you to be a gentleman and be friendly with girls. You don't have to be chummy, the way you are with Sammy, but I expect you to be polite, even if you aren't 'into girls' yet.” He drove up into the circular drive in front of the school, where they waited their turn to drop off. “Understand?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Honey...this is really important. You can't be a jerk, especially not to women.”
“I said okay, Wilson. I won't punch her.” David deliberately kept his face neutral to alarm his dad, as a joke.
Wilson's eyes widened, then narrowed. “You little devil,” he admonished.
David snickered.
When David trotted down the block to join Sam for the five minutes they had left before the first bell, he met Valentine, who was coming back to the school. She looked …kind of sad.
“Hi Valentine,” David said, first for a change.
“Hi,” the little girl in the pink jacket said quietly before she broke into a run back to the school.
David shrugged that off. He'd done as Wilson had instructed, so, as far as he was concerned, the matter was closed until he had to be polite again.
“Sam!”
“Hey buddy!” They looked around for anyone who might be watching, then completed the very complicated handshake ritual they had invented while Sam was in the hospital.
David leaned against the office building. “Uh... Sam... Can you come to my birthday on Saturday?”
Sam tripped over his feet, a common occurrence with him and his Heelies, and caught himself with one hand against the building. “Guess so.” He righted himself and walked a few feet to stand next to his friend, adopting the same stance. “I'll ask my mom. I'm sure she'll let me come to your party.”
“Not a party,” David corrected. “We're all going out to dinner - me and my parents, Lisa, and you.”
“Laaaaaaame,” Sam commented.
David didn't think it was lame at all. It had been his own idea. He figured it would be better than involving all the kids in his class. And anyway, the only reason he asked Sam was to look more normal to his parents. If David had had his way, it would have been just a few minutes at home, with maybe a piece of cake and a present, and then back to normal, watching movies on TV the way they always did on Saturday nights.
He recovered expertly, though. “Yeah, I know - parents. They make you do stuff, sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Like the sneaker thing.”
David frowned. “Sneaker thing?” He self-consciously glanced down at his shoes - his regular black leather school shoes. He only wore the sneakers on casual Fridays, sometimes. We his sneakers really lame?
“Yeah, you know - light-up sneakers? They're SO totally first grade, my man.” Sam patted his friend's shoulders. “I figure you only wear them because your folks make you.”
David pasted a weak smile on his face and coughed up a chuckle.
Then the bell rang.
What a relief!