The Penalty Box Read Free Page A

classmates stood in small groups, talking and laughing. Her stomach wobbled as she realized she would have to join one of these groups if she wanted to talk to anyone. She needed a drink.
    She walked carefully to the bar, teetering in her too-high heels. It was stupid to have bought them, considering she’d probably never wear them again. But she had to admit they did make her feel sexy. Maybe there was life beyond Easy Spirit.
    â€œA sea breeze, please,” she told the bartender, who winked in response and began mixing her drink. Katie watched him work, finding it easier to face the bar. A tap on her shoulder made her turn. Behind her stood a large, smiling woman wearing so much perfume Katie’s eyes started to burn.
    â€œHi, I’m Denise Coogan! And you are”—she squinted at Katie’s bosom—“Katie Fisher! hmigodyoulookfantasticgoodforyou!”
    â€œThank you.” Katie wracked her brain. Denise Coogan. Denise Coogan. She was drawing a blank. She smiled apologetically at the heavily made up woman. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t remember you. I remember your brother, though. Dennis?”
    The woman chortled. “Honey, I am Dennis! Or I was. Now I’m Denise. Grab that sissy drink of yours and I’ll tell you all about it.”
    For the next ten minutes, Katie listened to Denise/Dennis outline the horrors of being a woman trapped in a man’s body. “I can empathize,” said Katie. “For years I was Jennifer Aniston trapped in the body of Marlon Brando.” Denise howled her appreciation.
    Hovering on the periphery, Katie noticed Alexis van Pelt motioning to Katie to join her. Katie hesitated; although Alexis was one of the few people ever to be nice to her in high school, she was standing among a small group of former cheerleaders. The mere sight of these women filled Katie with apprehension; still, she made herself approach them. The increasingly baffled expression on Alexis’s face as Katie came closer told Katie that Alexis thought she was someone else. She gasped audibly when she read Katie’s name tag.
    â€œOh my God! Is that really you, Katie?”
    â€œIt’s really me.”
    â€œWow!”
    The other women in the group—Tanya Donnelly, Marsha Debenham, and Hannah Beck, all of whom had worked hard to make Katie miserable in high school—also looked shocked. Marsha, once suspected of having an eating disorder, had put on some weight, and Hannah had obviously spent the last ten years out in the sun: there were the beginnings of crow’s feet around her small green eyes. Tanya still looked like a brunette stork.
    â€œYou really look great, Katie,” said Marsha in a voice quivering with admiration.
    Katie blushed. It felt odd, receiving praise from these women. But it also felt good. Maybe her mother was right; perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had changed.
    â€œHow did you do it?” Marsha wanted to know.
    â€œHad my jaw wired shut.”
    The women chuckled appreciatively.
    Tanya Donnelly, who had once thrown Hershey bars at Katie in the cafeteria, touched her arm. “We were just talking about what stuck-up bitches we were in high school.”
    Katie felt the nervous flutter return to the pit of her stomach. “Oh?”
    â€œI’m really sorry about the way I treated you,” Hanna Beck murmured, looking uncomfortable. “I have a baby daughter, and the thought of anyone being as awful to her in school as we were to you . . .” She shuddered.
    Heat flashed up Katie’s face. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.”
    â€œLet’s face it: Being a teenager sucks!” Alexis declared, gulping her drink.
    â€œI’ll raise my glass to that!” Marsha echoed.
    Katie was in a daze as she listened to the friendly cross chatter of female voices. The last thing she’d expected from these women was an apology or being treated warmly. Yet here they