Coveted

by Tara K. Young

  Chapter 5

  "What are you going to say to him today?" Michael asked as we walked to school on Monday morning.

  The cold snap had finally eased and, while it was still chilly, I was not regretting the lack of a hat or scarf. My enthusiasm about the change in weather was tempered by the fact that it was still depressingly dark for eight in the morning. The sodium street lights made Michael look like a stretched oompa loompa.

  I shrugged but said nothing. We had talked the day before about what had happened. Michael had shaken his head and given me a pitying look as if I had proven his whole theory. He supposed I was a lost cause.

  I teased him about Maria but he wouldn't have any of it, claiming it wasn't fair to pick on the stupid; they were easy prey. My jealousy of her appeared entirely unfounded. According to him, she really did need the help. Her average in math was little higher than single digits and her parents were threatening to cut off her clothing allowance if she didn't improve. I asked him if he would keep tutoring her. In response, he had slammed down a crisp fifty dollar bill onto the table and proclaimed, "Damn straight!"

  "He seems like a nice guy," Michael continued as he gave a chunk of snow a kick down the sidewalk. "But I won't be tutoring him anymore. He doesn't need it like Maria does; he's far too intelligent. You should really reconsider your stance on him. Anyone who is a Doctor Who fan can't be that bad."

  Michael's attempts at encouragement were no match for my internal dialogue. "What if I say yes and on our first date, he says, 'Ew. What was I thinking? You're just a scrawny little nobody." That was my latest irrational fear now that Bran had laid his feelings out in the open. I couldn't justify my earlier concerns of him being mentally unstable or a stalker. He had been too much of a gentleman. He had been open and patient and never once pressured me. Even when I hadn't answered him, he remained completely pleasant and confident.

  Since his confession, the gnawing in my chest had become a permanent fixture. It was now a constant reminder of how much I needed to see him. Once I had admitted that to myself, I knew the only thing that could ruin us would be my failings.

  "Hello, insecurities!" Michael said as he poked me in the head.

  I heaved a sigh. "Can I blame you for ever if it doesn't work out?"

  He hadn't given up on his insane idea that dating Bran would also cure me of my fear of people. He never talked about what would happen to that fear when it didn't work out.

  "Of course." Did he have to sound so happy about it?

  "No deal."

  He stopped to stare at me. "But I gave you what you wanted?"

  I stopped to look back at him but ended up looking around at the street instead. The snow on the lawns was sickening orange. I shoved my hands into my pockets. There really wasn't a good reason to be so resistant. Despite my increasing difficulty coming up with excuses, I couldn't seem to relent, even in my fantasies. Those had become increasingly flustering since Saturday night. My cheeks got hot just at the memory.

  I forced the air out of my lungs in frustration. "I'm still not ready," I said looking everywhere but at Michael. "I barely know the guy."

  His crooked smile spread as wide as it could go and his eyes dazzled. "And yet you want to jump his bones."

  I turned back in the direction of the school and resumed walking, faster this time. "I never should have admitted that to you."

  He laughed as he jogged to catch up. "Nope, but your stupidity is my gain."

  "Jerk."

  He gave a small bow and waved his hand as if removing a top hat. "At your service."

  As usual, we went in opposite directions once we entered the school. I was both dreading and excited for homeroom. He would be there and he even might grace me with his dazzling smile. I just needed to get over my own insecurities.

  He was already at the desk next to my usual spot when I entered. As hoped, he smiled when he saw me. I had a small wobble as my legs weakened at the same time they threatened to take me running in the opposite direction. Sheer habit kept me walking forward. As I slid into my seat, he asked how my weekend had been. His lush smell teased at my nose, threatening me with complete intoxication.

  "Nothing much to report that you don't already know," I said. I was trying to be friendly but I think my anxiety made me sound more abrupt than I had intended. I hoped he didn't think I was blowing him off.

  "Same here."

  I could not tell from his tone how he had taken my answer. With the gnawing in my chest stronger than ever, I couldn't let him think the wrong thing. I turned to him, wanting to confess everything I had been feeling. I opened my mouth and chickened out. I turned back to the front and took far too much interest in the surface of my desk.

  He reached over and rested his hand over mine. His touch gave the gnawing its talons back. The suddenness made me jump but the delectable tingling shooting up my arm kept me from pulling away. "We can talk later," he said. "When it isn't so crowded."

  I stifled a whimper when he pulled away. He was the only one who would matter in my life again. If surrendering to that failed catastrophically, I would have nothing left to live for.

  I sobered. No, thank you. I wanted something meaningful to live for, not just some guy. That was reason enough to hold back. My body screamed at my brain to shove its logic and protective reflexes.

  "Meet me on the front steps at lunch," he said so quietly no one else would hear.

  I nodded as I clenched the edge of my desk with the tips of my fingers. He had been so patient with me Saturday. Was his patience an act? As much as my doubt wanted to grasp at this as evidence of his failings, I could not. I should have been angry at the prospect of being pressured. Instead I was saddened. I didn't want him to be that kind of guy. I wanted to like him. I wanted all these stupid reservations to go away.

  Lunch took eons to come and facing it was not made easier by Michael. He spent our classes together nudging me in the ribs, winking at me, and calling it my 'chance for sexy time.' Even my attempt to tickle that spot on his chin failed to get him to back off. I resorted to glaring at him at every opportunity. I was sure that this time my look really had been murderous. He continued to tease me but his laughter faded the more irate I became.

  It was busy on the front steps. The sun was fully out and only the parking lot in the shadow of the school remained chilly. The smell in the air hinted at the spring to come in both good and bad. Not everything smells good when thawed out; neighbourhoods with pets among them.

  I greeted Bran, who was leaning against the stone pillar at the bottom of the steps. He looked around at the other students with the hint of a scowl. "I was hoping it would be too cold for people to come outside," he said.

  "Nah, this is shorts weather here," I joked. As if on cue, a member of the football team ran by in shorts and a t-shirt. He caught a football thrown by one of his teammates and chucked it back.

  "Let's walk then," Bran suggested.

  We walked around the school and towards the track field. It was much warmer out in the open. Puddles were forming on the ice sheet covering the track. The crunching and squelching of our boots filled the silence. The sun was reflecting off the metal bleachers, making it impossible for us to look up. I tapped my fingers on the sides of my legs, thinking of the placement for my orchestra pieces.

  We had walked halfway around the track before Bran spoke again. "If you need more time, I'll give it," he said, "But I have to admit that waiting is driving me a little crazy and definitely taking a huge blow to my ego."

  He wasn't pulling any of the usual manipulative tactics I had heard other guys say to the girls in the hallways. No, "But I just love you so much," or, "If you loved me... " He was just laying it all out, vulnerabilities and all.

  While I could feel the gnawing's talons grow as we walked side by side, I knew that when I was alone, I would be questioning myself just as thoroughly as always. I wished I could be confident about all of it. I wished I could see it as a high school fling like any other
girl my age would have. For some reason, with Bran, I felt like I was considering a proposal. I could not get it wrong and I had no idea what right was.

  "I just don't know." I felt like I was apologizing. I did feel bad for stringing him along. If he wanted to move on to other girls, he had every right. I should encourage it. He deserved someone who would be unabashedly gaga over him; maybe not Samantha or Amanda, but there were plenty of girls in the school more intelligent and less shallow who would have swooned at the chance. I did not take joy in that fact. The talons in my chest clutched my heart and stomach.

  He let out a large breath and his shoulders relaxed. "Thank goodness."

  "Excuse me?" My first thought was that he had actually regretted his confession and hadn't wanted to hurt my feelings by saying so. I knew it had been too good to be true. That was why my instincts were so hesitant; they could pick up on his own apprehension.

  He proved me wrong again. "I thought you were going to tell me no today," he said. "That's why I wanted to be alone. 'I don't know' means I still have a chance."

  "A pretty good one," I admitted. I hadn't meant to let that out but the gnawing insisted. It was getting harder and harder to ignore it around him. It knew I wanted him too. It was on Michael's side.

  He flashed his smile at me. "That's encouraging. Michael said I might have to work to win you over. He really cares about you."

  I nodded. "We've been in each other's lives every day since we were little. You get pretty close to someone in all that time."

  He nodded his understanding as he pushed his hands into his pockets. "I thought the two of you were dating when I first showed up. Half the guys thought so too. A few of them warned me not to bother because you were all about Michael and would never notice anyone else."

  I faltered as my boot snagged on the slush rim of a puddle. "The other boys know I exist?"

  He chuckled. "You really have no clue how people see you, do you?"

  "I guess not." I had never believed it when Michael had said such things. He would make things up to tease me and even if he thought he was telling the truth, he was biased. Truthfully, so was Bran, but the novelty of his presence added a credence that may not have been entirely deserved.

  He sighed. "Anyway, if you want to be friends for now, I'll live with it. I know I'm new here. Asking you to go out with a complete stranger is a bit much."

  I snorted. "Not for the other girls."

  He was ever impressing me. He liked me but was still logical about it; not fake promises of, "Baby, I'll love you forever." Why did I not just throw myself at him right now? God, my body was begging me to do it.

  He grunted. "Girls is the word. High maintenance and shallow are a few more. We have girls like that back in Scotland too. Believe me, they are not my type."

  A shot of excitement went through me. Yup, he was still perfect.

  "How did you know I was?" Maybe I was being rude asking this or maybe I was trying to sabotage us. Whatever the deeper motive, I was still genuinely curious.

  He kept his eyes forward. "I feel like I've known you for a very long time," he said. "Like I'm drawn to you. You ever have that feeling?"

  Did I ever! Romantic ideals of meant-to-be and other silly nonsense popped into my head but all I muttered was, "I guess."

  Something deep inside my gut, even deeper than the gnawing, was telling me he would be very bad for me. I wished that part would lay out its reasons because I could feel my resolve weakening. At this rate, I would be ripping his clothes off by nightfall.

  We spent the rest of lunch talking. We discussed Doctor Who. While I normally did not enjoy it, I could not help but get excited given the way Bran so passionately spoke of time travelling. I found myself discovering a genuine enthusiasm for the hypotheticals he presented of being able to change the past or live long enough to see the future.

  As we walked back to the school, we shared about our families. I learned that his mother was stuck in Scotland due to some immigration mix-up that was stressing out his dad. Bran figured it would be all sorted eventually. I thought he was handling it rather well even if his dad wasn't. I asked him about the tattoo rumour and he flashed me his crooked smile, saying, "I'll guess you'll just have to look for yourself someday."

  I flushed. For the first time, I liked the feeling.

  By the time I reached math class, I was feeling much more at ease in my own skin and much more at ease with Bran next to it.

  Michael suggested we all grab some snacks after school and play some games before doing homework. As much as I hated having to decline, I had to spend my hours after school practicing in the music room.

  The day before, I had finally confessed to my mother the need to practice at the school. The way her shoulders drooped had been expected but heartbreaking. She had forced a smile and wrote up the consent letter I needed.

  After class, Bran had tried to wait for me but I sent him away telling him I needed to speak to Mrs. Montgomery. I gave her the letter and she begrudgingly handed over the key to the room with the stipulation that anything out of order would be blamed on me.

  I was sure she had only agreed to let me use the room because she was so fearful over her own job. During that first class working on the new material, she had given out a detention to Ben saying he had not practiced enough. Ben Jackson played cello in the seat next to Bran. He was tiny and always looked like a child next to Bran. After his scolding, he looked like a quivering Chihuahua. The rest of the class fled as quickly as possible to avoid incurring her wrath.

  With everyone gone, I sat back down at the piano and played some pieces from my childhood. With each bar, I could feel the muscles in my shoulders, my chest, and then my abdomen relax. I could breathe.

  I played through the first piece for our concert. It was much easier without all the other instruments to distract me. Unfortunately, it also sounded much less interesting. With a sigh, I was starting my umpteenth run through when movement by the door caught my eye. I stopped and looked over. A squat middle-aged man was turning to walk away. I waited a moment to see if he would come back. When he didn't, I shrugged and returned to practicing.

  I did not like walking home alone in the dark. I did it all the time but it never felt good despite the fact that I lived in a good neighbourhood and only a few blocks from the school. I power walked all the way home, watching for movement in the shadows and checking for followers behind me. I was exhausted both mentally and physically when I came through the door and dropped my bag on the floor.

  There was no smell of food so I assumed my mother had left for work. I jumped when she came around the corner. Her eyes were wide and red. She threw her arms around me.

  "I am so glad you are safe!" She said. She sounded like she would break into wailing at any moment.

  "Of course I am." Had my mother finally cracked? "What's going on?"

  She pulled away to look at me. "We had another mutilation come in today."

  "I'm so sorry, mom," I said, confused what this had to do with me.

  "The cat was found on the sidewalk just around the corner..."

  Now I understood. She had always said that people willing to mutilate animals would eventually move to humans.

  She hugged me again. "When you didn't answer your phone, I got so worried."

  I berated myself. I had forgotten to turn it off silent yet again. "I was just practicing, mom, you knew that."

  "It was what could have been happening after that that terrified me."

  I rubbed her back. "I'm fine, mom. Really."

  She pulled away again, this time to rub her eyes with the back of her hand. "Alright but I don't want you walking the neighbourhood alone until the police find this guy... and don't put Riley out alone."

  I nodded but my heart sank. How was I going to practice at the school now? That was all I needed, Michael sitting with me whining about how bored he was and how bad I played. I would have to figure out something or Mrs. Montgomery would have me in detention ev
ery day for the next two months.