Bette On It: Weird Adolescence (REVISITED)

Prologue:

June 2, 2004

Bette Wheelan walked out to her mom's car. It was early, barely seven AM. She had graduated high school barely twelve hours earlier and had left the school-organized all night party for the newly graduated seniors. She stopped in the parking lot to retie her loose shoe. She wore her back pack on one shoulder, and it slipped off and fell to the pavement. As she finished, she stood and swung her backpack back over her shoulder, she heard a familiar voice cry out, "Whoa. I remember that swing. I should have let you know I was coming." Much closer than she realized, and towering over her as he always did, was Ozzy White.

She held up a hand to correct him, "I only take a swing at people when corrective action doesn't work the first three times."

"I remember," he said suppressing a laugh and looking across the lot to a group of boys: Jason Kaye, Norman, Brock A.

"Not my finest moments." She quickly looked around to everyone else leaving the event center.

"Mine either."

"What?"

"Nothing that's important now."

She let it go. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yeah. I beat Tylor and Greyson in mini golf. But they beat me in bowling. Sang some karaoke. You?"

"I had so much nervous energy about graduation; I think I was in the batting cage for an hour. Then Jenna and I hit up the costume and photo booth and got our hair braided. We were on the inflatable games over the last hour." She ran her hand over the braids. "I haven't done karaoke-"

"Since we did karaoke?"

She tried to change the subject, "Or the last time I saw you on stage-"

"Since I went off-lyric and got banned from school talent show?"

"Right," she awkwardly replied.

Across the lot, Tylor yelled, "You riding with us Oz?"

"I'll be there in a sec."

Bette spat out her question, "Would you want to write in my yearbook before you take off?"

"Only if you write something in mine," retorted Ozzy. He signaled to Tylor and Greyson what he was doing.

They traded books. She opened up his to see messages of well wishes and congratulations from classmates they had known for years. She flipped to the back of the book, turned back a page to find an empty spot where no one had written.

Ozzy-

CHAPTER 1

7th Grade 1998-1999

Bette was determined to start the school year different than the year before. She had grown a bit over the summer and wasn't wearing clothes from the kids section of the store anymore. It was fun to actually develop a sense of taste in clothes. For her first day of school, she picked out a pair of designer jeans from the second hand store and a V-neck olive green shirt, a grey zip up hooded sweatshirt, and her hair out of her face in a headband. "Why don't you kids dress up for the first day anymore?" Bette's mother Lorna asked. "It's new Mom. New is nice." Lorna hadn't bothered to try picking Bette's clothes for her since second grade, and they were both grateful for not having to worry about the other. Lorna took the customary first day of school pictures of her daughter and sent her off to the bus stop.

She waited at the bus stop with one other girl she had known from the neighborhood forever, Cassandra. They weren't close, they just lived close.

Cassandra was blonde, tanned from being outside all summer, outgoing, was already wearing makeup, petite, yet proportionally developed.

Cassandra was all bounce and bubbles at the bus stop. "Hey girl. New year, new me, what do you think?" She did a turn to show off her look: a baby blue fitted t-shirt, light blue jeans, and her bright white sneakers had stripes that matched her top.

"Classic girl next door." Bette said. "A modern day Cinderella. Cassand-rella."

"Thank you. Thank you." Cassandra bowed. "You look nice."

Cassandra and Bette had been childhood opposites. Bette was taller, had raven hair, a naturally pale skin tone that didn't change from a summer covered in SPF 50, reserved but strong in character, no makeup, and her breasts and blackheads had come in strong, but nothing else seemed to with their age. Puberty looked like it gave Cassandra a kiss and Bette a slap.

On the bus they sat together and recounted the last couple weeks. Cassandra has spent a lot of her time with her family at a cabin. Bette went to a family reunion where no one was within six years of her age, so she spent most of her time reading whatever she could get her hands on.

"What did you read?"

"Are you familiar with the high quality novels of your local pharmacy?" Bette answered.

"No."

"Neither am I. There's no such thing."

Cassandra giggled.

More kids got on the bus. Mostly people they knew or at least had familiar faces from the last six years of school. About three blocks from their homes, the bus stopped again and let on one kid.

"He's huge." Cassandra turned from looking out the window, whispered to Bette, and elbowed her. Bette turned and saw him get on the bus. Bette was 5'2" at her checkup last month; this boy on the bus must have been 5'9". Neither of them knew him. He was husky, olive-tanned, brown-haired, and brown-eyed, but still very boyish in face for being so grown.

Bette whispered back to Cassandra and tried to dismiss her shock. "He's tall; he's probably an 8th grader."

He walked up the aisle of the bus, trying carefully not to bump anyone with his size. The rest of the ride into school, he sat alone.

The morning was the same kind of first day stuff she expected, but it was the first year they changed classes every hour.

When she got to lunch, she saw Cassandra again along with a couple of others to sit with. Cassandra had brought over Stella to sit with them who she knew from near her cabin. Bette had Jenna join the table too, who Bette considered her actual best friend. The four girls traded opinions on teachers and classes.

After lunch, Bette had two classes left, geography and gym. She was grateful for gym to be her last hour of the day. If she was going to get sweaty and gross, might as well go home right after.

She got to Geography class and saw that Mrs. Worth had assigned seats alphabetically by last name which was the third class to do so that day. She wasn't near Jenna, who had the same class, but it was nice to know she was there. Bette looked at the seating chart and sat at her spot. In the class walked the same tall kid from the bus that morning, she hadn't seen him since then. He looked taller now than he did that morning. He was taller than Mrs. Worth for sure. She saw him look at the seating chart he walked over and sat right behind Bette. Mrs. Worth had them hand out textbooks and then syllabus papers,

"Take one pass it back."

Most people passed them off over their shoulders, but Bette spun in her desk chair. "Here" She let one slide off the pile on to his desk and handed him the rest.

"Thanks." He said, quick, soft, and low.

"Sure," she turned back around and wrote a couple notes on the paper.

After class ended, she walked out with Jenna. Bette filled her in on what to expect in English class next hour, and Jenna told her gym class was reporting right to the gymnasium and not the locker room.

The gymnasium had some of the bleachers pulled out at she took a seat with everyone else. She looked around to see no good friends in the class. Great.

Following not far behind her into the gym, was the same big guy from Geography and the bus.

Mrs. Golden, the gym teacher did the same first day introductions, expectations, and syllabus handing out as all the other teachers.

That was easy.

After gym, it was a straight shot out the main doors and on to her bus to go home for the day.

The first couple days she found her routine: when to go to her locker, when to eat something after a class, and what not to eat at lunch. It was just another year of school.

A few weeks into school Bette and Jenna were leaving Geography and Bette asked her, "Were you going to come back for Puzzle club today? They mentioned it in the morning announcements."

"Why didn't you ask me at lunch?" Jenna asked.

"I had this feeling Stella was going to be mean about it. Call us nerds for wanting to go. I don't need that from her. Cassandra already said she wasn't going, so I don't have a ride. Please Jenna. It's not even nearly the walk home after for you after as it is for me."

"I will grace you with my presence," Jenna said playfully.

"Thank you! See you there." The girls separated for their respective classes. Bette changed into her gym clothes and reported to the soccer field for the unit. So much running. She had a sports bra, but it wasn't very good quality, and the class was miserable.

After Mrs. Golden dismissed them from the field, they all started walking back up to the school to the locker room to change. Bette was walking, feeling the wheeze in her throat, just focusing forward on getting there for a drink of water.

"What's Puzzles Club?"

Bette looked on one side of herself than the other to see the big kid from the bus and Geography class, and no one else was walking near them.

"Holy shit, you mean me!" Bette replied with a rasp.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No. No." She coughed. "Not that. I meant- You caught me by surprise." She caught her breath. "Ozzy, right?" She asked.

"Ozzy White."

"Not what I meant, but okay. Yeah. Puzzle club. It's just like it sounds. It's puzzles, games, logic, and lateral thinking. That sort of thing. Different stuff each week."

By this point they were at the divide of the locker room hallway. "It's actually right in Mrs. Worth's room after school today." Bette split off from him and went into the locker room to change. Her breasts ached from the class. Next time, two sports bras. Everyone else was in a hurry to go home, but she was going to puzzle club. She combed out her hair and wiped her face with a cold paper towel to try to get some of the redness out. It didn't help much.

Bette put her went to her locker and grabbed some trail mix and can of Diet Coke her dad had put in her back pack for her and read the little note he left for her that read 'Have fun my Puzzle Club Queen'. Jenna caught up with Bette and they went back to Mrs. Worth's class room. She asked the kids to push the desks back from their regular forward formation they were in into a ring with an open area in the middle. More kids showed up, a pair of fifth graders, some sixth graders, no eight graders, and then, Ozzy. Bette had nearly forgotten. Altogether, there were nine of them. It was the first club of the year, it was an expected amount, numbers would ebb and flow throughout the year.

Mrs. Worth had a big tote bin ready to go; on the top was "Clue-dun-it." She introduced herself to the other students who didn't know her or what the club was. She had the kids put out the big mat from the tote in the middle of the room along with the props and pawns. It was a giant, modified version of the game 'Clue.' She had each person grab a colored name tag, clipboard, a pen, and passed out cards. Bette grabbed the 'Green' name tag and hung it around her neck. Jenna grabbed 'Violet'. Ozzy grabbed his own name, 'White.' Bette got an excited smirk on her face. She liked this game and was pretty good at it. Each turn, you would make a suggestion to 'who broke into the school' with 'which object' and 'which room'. The first person after you who could disprove your suggestion would have to show you one of their cards. You could only suggest on your turn, but if you wanted to accuse someone, which is to try to end the game and guess the correct combination held by Mrs. Worth, you'd either win or the game or if you were wrong you would be eliminated and your cards would be passed out to everyone else who would continue until someone else accused and won.

It was two full rounds into the game and Bette had her game sheet narrowed down. Her sheet looked like a complicated checklist from how she was reading the other kid's choices and answers in the room. She knew the tool was a hammer, and the person was the girl wearing 'red,' but she wasn't sure if the room was the music room or the cafeteria. Do I go for it?

And out of turn came his voice, "I want to make an accusation." It was Ozzy.

Mrs. Worth had him show her his game sheet. She nodded, "Go ahead and say it."

"It was Miss Red, with the hammer, through the music room."

Mrs. Worth opened the game file and showed everyone he was right.

The game reset and they played again. When Bette was in the same spot again: narrowed down to one last thing to eliminate, Ozzy piped in with an accusation and was right. On the third game, she was determined to win, and she knew she was getting close, she was down to four to eliminate, when Ozzy made his accusation and was correct. By this time, there wasn't enough time to start another game, so the game was packed up and put away and the desks put back into place.

Bette and Jenna started the walk home. It was only a few blocks for Jenna, but a mile for Bette. "That was fun,"

"Fun? Yeah. Right up until I lost. Every time. I don't know how he did it."

"Maybe he's just better than you."

"That game had 10 rooms, 10 tools, and had 9 players. That's 900 possible combinations. He did it in less than 20 turns each time."

"You can fume about it as much as you want. But you shouldn't worry about it." She pointed. "This is my block. I'll see you tomorrow." Jenna walked away up her street and Bette walked on. A couple blocks later she stopped to tie her shoe and realized Ozzy was barely a half a block behind her. He did get on the bus after her in the morning, and off before her in the afternoon, so she had an idea of where he lived in the neighborhood from her, his would only be a few blocks past her from her walk. She intentionally retied the same shoe, and then switched and untied and retied her other shoe. By the time she was up and walking again, he was barely ten feet behind her.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself," he kept walking.

The question persisted in her head as he past her and she took a few quick steps to catch up and walk with him. She looked up at him and asked, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"'Do what?' You know what. You swept the games. I was this close to making the accusations and you pulled the rug out from under me every time. How did you do it?"

"Same as you. Process of elimination, logical reasoning."

"No," She persisted. "There had to be something else."

"What if there was? What would that change?"

"It wouldn't-I could have- I-" She let out an agitated huff and laughed at herself. "Jenna was right."

"What's so funny about that? And right about what?"

"I couldn't figure out how you beat me, and I was really annoyed. Jenna was right. You were just better." She chuckled.

"She wasn't totally right..." he curled in his lips and bit them to try and hide his smile.

"There is something you did! I knew it!"

He snickered. "Okay okay. It was two things. One, distinct advantage."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Mr. Cerulean next to me couldn't hold his cards right to save his life. It's like I had a double hand. I didn't need to ask what any of his cards were. And once or twice, I suggested my own cards just to throw off the group."

"That's cheating!"

"No. That's being strategic, tall, and sitting next to a chump."

She laughed. "Fine, I'll concede that's not cheating. What's the other?"

"I don't know if I should say."

"Why not?"

"You might think it's weird."

"Weirder than me being annoyed at losing?"

"Maybe. You won't get scared and run off if I say?"

"You've seen me in gym class. I'm not running anywhere for the rest of the day."

"That may be true enough." He took a deep breath. "It was you."

"Me?!" She didn't think it was weird, but she didn't understand. "What about me?"

"You moved your lips. Your eyes were really intense looking around the room. You were deliberate when you marked your paper. With my own deductions, Mr. Cerulean's cards, and your complete lack of a poker face, there was no losing for me."

Bette stopped dead in her tracks. Ozzy walked another step before realizing she stopped and he turned. She was stunned. She started with a chuckle and she was laughing so hard until he couldn't help but laugh too. "So-" She tried to catch her breath, "I mean- You're saying there's no lying to you."

"You? No. Probably not. Not unless you somehow get really good, really fast." They kept walking. "But I don't see that happening."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know your tells already."

"You know it's not going to be 'Clue-dun-it' every week. I'm not always going to have a poker face to read. There are going to be co-operative games and other stuff too."

"So...you think I should go again next week?"

"I think it doesn't matter what my answer is because whatever I say, you'll know if it's true or not. But as I observed, you knew what you were doing, you won, and you seem to be good at it. So logic would dictate you probably would."

"Maybe I would go because it was fun."

"Well, yeah."

"Maybe that's all. Isn't that why you go?"

"It is. That, and it's so satisfying."

"How is a club satisfying?"

"I don't-I don't know why I said it like that."

"Yes, you do."

"Damn it. If you are going to be able to call me out on every little bluff or fib I ever make, I need you to be able to be honest with me too. If I tell you something, it's not going to be because I have no choice but to tell you the truth, but will you keep it private too?"

"The door swings and locks both ways." He offered his hand to shake on his word.

Bette looked at his hand then up at him, he was innocent, honest, and intuitive. He had been open with her. He gave her no reason not to trust him. She shook his warm, strong, yet gentle hand.

She took a deep breath. "It's fun being the cleaver one in the room," and it came out somewhat sad. Ozzy looked at her knowingly. "Because it's about all I can do. I'm not artistic or athletic as you've seen. And- and so if I can outwit people, that's something." She ran her hand through her hair. "It's what I can do. And I'm pretty good at it."

"And?"

"And what?"

"I still hear you holding back. I can see it."

"I don't want to say." She said it a little embarrassed.

"Alright. I get it. You're going to need some collateral."

"Wait what?"

"I'm going to tell you something, but I hope it's enough for us to understand that I am telling you this in the same good faith you told me a minute ago. The door swings and locks in both directions, remember?"

"Sure-"

"I barely spoke to anyone up until this week because my voice finally settled and I hated it changing that much."

"How-How did? You were able to- And no one-You were with-" She couldn't complete a single thought to reply. "I don't understand. It's so normal. All the guys are squeaking right now."

"Not all of them are taller than the teachers, have to squeeze in bus seats, and feel like a giant freak!"

"Oh my God. I see now. I know it all too well, and it isn't fair, is it?" She didn't want to touch her blackheads or her breasts, but she knew.

"It sucks."

"It does suck," she kicked a rock on the sidewalk.

"So what is it?"

"What's what?"

"What did my collateral buy? Why do you like being the clever one in the room?"

She huffed. "'Albino freak.' 'Ugly freak.' Which doesn't make sense, because it's not medically accurate. But those words used to wreck me. You know Jason Kaye, from gym?"

"Blond guy. Wiry. Only guy even close in height to me."

"Yep, him. His nicknames for me back in 5th grade. I used to come home crying. My mom offered to send me to private school, but I didn't want to leave my friends. One day I came home from school, upset from his name calling and my dad was there instead. He is a firm believer in 'two wrongs don't make a right.' Gave me different advice in this situation. He said next time he calls you one of those names to call him 'dickless.' Someone was hurting his little girl, and she had to stand up for herself because looking back on it, there was nothing he could do about it. So, a few days later here comes Jason Kaye, 'Hey albino, ugly freak.' I sharply reply with, 'Hey dickless,' and the look on his face was priceless. Never again did he call me 'ugly freak.' If I can't be the pretty one in the room, I'll be the clever one. I'll be the sharp one. I won't set myself up for that again."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be, that was two years ago."

"No, about clue-dun-it. I didn't mean to take that from you. I wouldn't have had I known."

"Oh, don't you dare! I need a challenge in that club. And it seems like you're the one to step up to it."

They both didn't speak for a few steps. "You know it's not true though, right?"

"I'm pretty sure Jason has no dick, but I cannot confirm."

He laughed. "You are sharp. But not what I was going to say." He hesitated, "You're not a freak." She could hear the serious tone in his voice. "The room thing...What you said about-"

"Don't." Her face turned red again. "Don't do that, please. I wasn't trying to get you to say something nice."

He looked sad and regretful. "I wouldn't-I didn't-I didn't want to feel worse for having talked about it."

"Not at all." She gave him a gentle prod in the shoulder. "I have a very healthy level of self-esteem, thank you." She gave him a great, big smile. "Are we going to be okay?"

Ozzy smiled. "Yeah."

"You're telling me the truth? I haven't learned to read all your tells yet."

"I promise. I won't lie to you. And in the future, when it comes to you, anything you tell me that's private, stays private. Anyone asks anything, I simply don't know what they're talking about."

He offered his hand in agreement again and she accepted and replied, "This door swings and locks both ways. Anyone asks, 'I don't know what they're talking about.'"

"Your poker face is terrible, so it's going to be all about your wit."

"I accept the challenge." A minute later they were at the end of a block. "This is my turn. I'm the fourth house in on the left."

"I'm three blocks further and a few in. It's a teal one with a stone gargoyle in the front."

They high-fived again and went their separate ways.

The next morning when Cassandra and Bette sat on the bus and saw Ozzy get on Bette addressed him. "Mr. White."

"Ms. Green," he passed and took a seat a few rows back.

Cassandra leaned into her ear. "Does he know your last name is Wheelan, right?"

"Of course, we have two classes together."

"Green?"

"It was Clue-dun-it at puzzle club yesterday. He was there."

"What else did I miss?"

"He won all three games. Jenna saw it. I was so annoyed. But it was just a game. There's always next week."

"He beat you in three games of Clue?"

"What's his deal?"

"What do you mean?"

"We've been riding the bus with him, you have two classes with him, we've been in school almost a month and you are pulling out inside jokes? Where are you hiding this guy and what's in the cookie jar?" Cassandra asked suggestively.

"Ugh. Don't be weird. He's just a person who showed up to puzzle club. You could have if you didn't flake. I didn't get that much information. Besides," and she tried to say it somewhat loud, "I don't know what you're talking about." Bette turned her face away from Cassandra and made a little grin. I really do need to work on my poker face.