“I’m not scared,” another fib, “and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Come in my room now.”
Mimi followed meekly. Anything to keep Mrs. Cole from going to Tumble Inn and finding Betsy out. She was sure all along Betsy did not have permission. She watched Mrs. Cole pry the top from a box of salts.
“I’d rather have soda water, please.”
“This will do you more good,” said Mrs. Cole, stirring vigorously. “Here, drink it.”
What else could Mimi do?
While the bitter taste was in her mouth she wished she had let the alarm sound, that Mrs. Cole had been scared worst of all. But as she finally closed the door of Tumble Inn safely behind her, she knew that one dose of salts was better than two girls suspended, especially when one of them was Betsy.
CHAPTER VII
AN ACCIDENT
Things were happening thick and fast these days. Classes and study hall were realities. Rainy weather cut the soccer season short. Mimi, to whom the game was new, stayed on first squad but did not make the team. She was flashy and fast but she was used to making goals with her hands and not her feet. Now when basket ball practice started—and it did this week—she would show them something. There had been a long letter from Mother Dear from New York mailed the day they sailed; a letter from Dottie with all the B. G. Hi news. Mimi had answered Dot with news that she was on the Prep tennis double team. She omitted soccer. Dot didn’t play soccer anyhow. The literary clubs had started rushing, placards of the first artist concert were posted and six weeks’ tests were beginning to bob up their ugly heads. Sue was gaining weight, Chloe growing most distant, and Betsy and Mimi continued to admire each other secretly but antagonize each other publicly. Something was bound to happen to break the growing tension. Two weeks later it did.
When Mimi grew up and looked back at her school days, she knew that the scene of her most exciting moments was the gymnasium. Here she yelled her breath out, played her heart out, knew defeat as well as victory. Here she was her best or her worst. Basket ball meant more to her even than swimming. You swam by yourself but basket ball depended on the perfect timing and teamwork of your team mates to whom you felt closer than any other group of girls, ever.