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Show n. XII A light December snow had been falling all day, but the highways were still clear when JD and Chic Wilcox left for the basketball game. Chic figured they'd make it if they could follow the school bus all the way into Glenrock. His rebuilt Pontiac was a toss-up even in good weather. "What'd Gayle say when you told her you were going to the game with me tonight?" Chic asked, shifting down to keep behind the lumbering bus that had just crossed a set of tracks. "She didn't act like she cared. I'm pissed off at her anyway and she knows it." "I can't believe it. Gayle's perfect. You told me so yourself." "Then I was wrong." "Lovers' quarrel." Chic diagnosed it in two words. "You'll go running back to one another's arms--" he slid off into his soap opera voice, "passions brimming, full of recriminations . . . smack, smack, smack!" he kissed the air. "Knock it off," JD groaned, "what do you know about it?" "I took a girl out once." "Oh, yeah? What happened?" "She got sick." "Did you ever tell the truth in your life, Chic?" "No kidding. I took her to a carnival and she got sick on the tilt-a-whirl. She puked all over me." "So you haven't asked a girl out since?" "Just Bonnie." "Bonnie who?" JD looked at Chic like he knew this was going to be another fabrication, but to go ahead while he was still enjoying the dialogue. "Bonnie's my cousin and I have this thing about her. Boy, is. she built!" He held his hand out at an appropriate distance from his own sunken chest. JD cracked up. I think as your best and oldest friend," his best and oldest friend began,"I'd better rescue you. Would you double with Gayle and me some night? Gayle could dig up someone," he made it sound nigh impossible. |