I'm Pretty Sure You're Gonna Miss Me Ronin McKinsey

by M. J. Padgett

  “And thank you for proving my point. Well done, Hazel Simmons, you now understand the fact that you should not have to change for anyone to like you.” He sat back with a satisfied grin, almost taunting.

  “Okay, thank you for making me feel like a moron while you made your point,” I said, dropping my books on the table with an angry thud. I had already been humiliated enough for one lifetime, let alone a few days. “I don’t need a guy to point out every stupid thing about me, thanks.”

  He popped straight with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention, Peaches, but it is kind of silly to think that changing things about yourself will make Ronin happy. If he doesn’t like you how you are, then that’s his problem, not yours,” he said, his tone instantly shifting from triumphant to sympathetic. “I just... Look, you know you are amazing. You’re right. You don’t need some guy to tell you that, but maybe you need a friend to remind you when you seem to forget? I’m trying to be that friend, even if the way I went about it was sort of... jerky.”

  I sighed and dropped my head onto the table. I hadn’t meant to make him feel bad just as much as he hadn’t meant to hurt me.

  “I think maybe change is too strong a word. I think I just need to, I don’t know, not go so overboard I guess.” I tried and failed to describe what I felt. I loved grand gestures—the thoughtfulness, the planning, and the looks on the faces of my loved ones when the received said gesture. It all made me happy. But what good were they if they pushed away the people I cared for most?

  “I still don’t understand what it is you did wrong.” Daniel shifted and tugged on my elbow. I groaned and sat up.

  “I embarrassed him. I embarrass him all the time. I pull these big stunts to show him how I feel about him, and I guess all this time they’ve really bothered him. And let’s not forget the fact that those huge stunts end up going way off track.” I flipped through my book, trying to avoid Daniel’s intense gaze. It was green ten minutes before we sat but shifted to more of a greenish-gold under the café lighting. They really were beautiful.

  He shrugged. “So, you filled the gym with a few hundred balloons. What’s the big deal? I still don’t get it.”

  “It was more than three thousand balloons, Daniel. Even I’m starting to understand why that was a bad idea.”

  He pulled his own books from his bag and dropped them dramatically on the table. I didn’t know if he was mimicking me, or if he was agitated, but the lady behind the counter gave him a glare. Shut up or get out—it said.

  “You know what? Ronin is an idiot. I would love it if someone filled a huge gym with balloons for me because they thought it would make me happy.” Daniel was frustrated, but who knew why?

  “I think it’s safe to say you and Ronin are nothing alike.”

  “Thanks, I’m glad you think so,” he said with a smirk.

  “You know what I mean. You’re... He’s... You’re... You’re just very different people.” I sighed and tapped my pencil on my calculus book, hoping the answers would somehow fall out of the pencil and onto my paper.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’m glad I’m not an idiot who broke your heart because you did something nice for me. In fact, I pride myself on being the complete and total opposite of Ronin McKinsey in every way,” Daniel said.

  I looked up from my work, doubtful. “So, you’re telling me if you walked into the gym and found it covered with balloons and all your closest friends teased you about it, it wouldn’t make you a little upset? Oh, and don’t forget the singing telegram cake you then fall into in front of half the school. It would have no impact on you whatsoever?”

  “Of course, it would,” he said.

  “See, I told you. It was too much, and I am beginning to understand that. All I want to do is find ways to show him I appreciate him that don’t embarrass him—or me, in retrospect,” I argued.

  “I meant, of course, it would, but not the same way it did him, because, like you so aptly put it, we are nothing alike.”

  I sighed, growing tired of talking about it. “Fine, Daniel, how would you react if I’d done that to you?”

  “Oh, look at the time. We better get to work on that French homework if we’re going to get it finished before the store closes,” Daniel said as he opened his French book to where we’d left off the day before.

  “You’re avoiding the topic, Daniel. Why is that?” Got him. He knew he’d react the same way, and he was trying to get out of the situation.

  “Because I’m bored with it. That, and it’s time to figure out who I’m going to ask to prom.” He changed the subject again.

  “I thought you said we needed to study the French homework?”

  “Fine, teach me how to ask someone to prom in French,” he said sarcastically.

  “No, first calculus because you promised.”

  “Fair enough. What are you studying in calculus?” he asked, looking over my shoulder.

  “I have no idea. I missed the class, remember?”

  “Why’d you miss the... Oh yeah, that was me. Ha-ha, oops.” Daniel’s stupid grin actually made him look adorable, but I was too annoyed with him to care. I wished I could be as careless and free as he was, but then I probably wouldn’t get into a decent college if I were.

  I rolled my eyes, doubting he could help me at all. “All I have is this homework sheet I don’t know how to do because you dragged me out of class for this, Daniel. For old men stuck in bears and duck tongue twisters. I’m going to fail this miserable class,” I groaned.

  “You’re not going to fail calculus, Peaches,” he said, mocking me with a groan of his own.

  “I will if I don’t figure this crap out. It’s impossible, and when will I ever need it?”

  He blinked at me. “Like, you literally do math every day of your life, woman. Here, give it to me. I’ll do it for you so you’ll get a good grade, then I can start tutoring you tomorrow... right after you help me with French... and English Literature.” He took the sheet and glanced over it.

  “You already know how to do it?”

  He looked up at me and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He struggled with something, and it was obviously more than whether he knew how to do the work or not. Somehow, I managed to stop the incessant flow of nonsense that normally spilled from his lips. Frankly, it made me sad. I didn’t like seeing him concerned, especially when I didn’t know the reason. It was a complete one-eighty in a split-second.

  “What is it? Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

  “Of course not. I uh, I’ve already taken Calculus, so I should remember this.”

  He decided. He’d chosen his path. He lied to me. He was a bad liar, but I didn’t think we were anywhere near close enough to question why he chose to lie. I also couldn’t figure out how the truth could be so awful he needed to lie. Even so, I was horrible at letting things drop, so I pried a little.

  “Oh, when did you take it?”

  “Uh... last year. Right, last year... I think.” He was already working the problems, his pencil moving along the notebook paper at lightning speed. When he noticed I was watching, he slowed down and erased something. Then altered the rate at which he completed the problems, still faster than I’d ever be able to complete one, let alone a dozen... and he never touched the calculator, not even to turn it on.

  “Last year? So, what are you taking now? AP Calculus? Honors?” I asked, impressed.

  “Sure,” he mumbled. He shut me out, a bizarre thing since he had no issue with delving into my life head-first. The pencil flew across the sheet at lightning speed again with little pause to even read the sheet. He couldn’t seem to help himself; he just couldn’t slow down even if it was to trick me into believing he struggled with the problems. Why? Why would he do that?

  Every few minutes, he’d notice I still watched him and would slow down, but when I looked away, he went right back to flying through it.

  “So, who do you have for AP?” I asked.

&nbs
p; “Morrison,” he mumbled again.

  I smacked my hand on top of his, breaking his concentration. “Why are you lying to me?”

  He stared at me blankly, then slowly parted his lips and dropped his gaze back to the page. “Um... Do I have to talk about it?”

  He looked so sad, so unlike Daniel Starnes in every way, all I wanted to do was reach across the table and hug him. I’d spent so much time worrying about how I would get Ronin back, I’d forgotten, yet again, that I didn’t know all that much about my new friend and partner in crime.

  “No, not if you don’t want to. But if you ever do, I’m here to listen,” I said, taking my homework sheet away from him so I could look it over. “You know, I do need to learn how to do this, so maybe you can explain as you go?”

  He scratched his head, ruffling up his hair more than it already was. “Yeah, right. So, the first problem is pretty easy.”

  “Not for me. It makes no sense how there are so many right answers. How do you get a range like that?” I asked.

  “You can’t look at this like you do other math. It’s not as simple as solving for x, or two plus two. It’s a study of continuous change, and change doesn’t stay the same by definition. That said, your answer will most usually be... What’s the matter, Peaches?” he asked when he glanced up at me.

  I blinked at him several times. “You lost me at solve for x.”

  He smiled his crooked smile and dropped his head to the table. When he lifted it, old Daniel was back. “Okay, open your book, and let’s do this.”

  I did as he asked and opened my book to the day’s lesson, which looked like a bowl of alphabet soup mixed with a lot of symbols. How is it even math when it’s mostly letters and symbols?

  “You look sick. Are you gonna puke on me?” Daniel asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “No, don’t be silly. I’m just... This is really intimidating to me. Give me Austen or Dickens or Shakespeare, and I can pick it to bits, line by line, and tell you every thought and emotion and underlying message in every one of their works, but this... This is Greek to me.”

  “Well... It kind of is. Calculus comes from the Greek word—”

  “Okay, who are you?” I demanded. “Because you’re not the same person I walked in here with, Daniel. If you don’t want to explain, that’s fine, but you should know you’re kinda freakin’ me out!”

  His jaw dropped, and the cranky counter lady shushed us. He glanced around, and even though the café was empty save the counter lady and us, he still felt it necessary to drag me by the wrist to the back of the store and into the darkest, most remote corner he could find.

  “You promise me right now, Hazel Simmons, if I tell you the truth, you take it to your grave.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic; it can’t be that big a deal,” I said as he pulled me to the floor. I sat across from him, cross-legged as usual.

  “I’m a genius,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I thought you were going to tell me something serious, Daniel. You’re such a doofus,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. “Um... I actually mean that. I have genius-level IQ.”

  “Would you stop it and teach me how to...” I paused to study his face, and when I found no signs of jest, my jaw dropped. I couldn’t stop my eyes from bulging when it finally hit me. “You’re serious? You’re a freaking genius! Like a real genius!” I yelled.

  He clamped his hand over my mouth. “I said, take it to the grave, Peaches, not wake the dead announcing it to the world.”

  “But why?” I mumbled against his hand. He removed it and wiped my spit on his pants. “Why, Daniel? It’s a good thing. And why on earth are you going to regular high school?”

  “I don’t want people to think I’m weird, okay?”

  I giggled. “I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed, Daniel.”

  “You know what I mean. People will hound me for tutoring and other crap. I don’t like people, Peaches,” he said, seeming genuinely miserable at the idea of people approaching him about anything, let alone tutoring.

  “But... but you like me, right? We’re friends, I thought.”

  He scoffed. “You’re not people, Peaches. You’re Peaches. Of course, I like you.”

  “Okay, so what’s the big deal then? Your secret is safe with me.”

  Daniel sighed and relaxed against the bookshelf. “Good. That’s good. Thank you.”

  “I’m curious, though, where are you going to college. I’d bet—”

  “I’m not,” he said, his body tense again.

  “Not what? Not sure, or not going?”

  “Not going. I mean, not right after high school, anyway.”

  I blinked at him again, feeling like I was looking at a space alien. Why wouldn’t he go to college? “I’m sorry, what do you mean you’re not going?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Because I don’t need to, Peaches. I already have a job after graduation.”

  “I think you can do better than an entry-level job, Daniel. You’re a freaking genius.”

  “I never said it was entry-level. I’m not sweeping floors at a fast-food chain, Peaches. I’m...” He hesitated, debating again.

  “Daniel, I’ll never say a word to anyone about your life, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Why not?” he asked, his voice surprisingly husky and weighted with worry that I could betray his most deeply held secret.

  “Because I trust you, and that means something to me. Trust is a big thing in my family, and I value it very much. I will do everything in my power to return the favor,” I said, placing my hand on his knee. He flinched slightly, so I thought I’d overstepped by touching him. I jerked my hand back and dropped them into my lap.

  He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his arms on his knees. The move essentially blocked my view of him, so I slid around to sit beside him. His hands slid down to the floor, resting at his sides. The fingers of his left hand found mine, and he toyed with them for a moment, deciding whether he could trust me or not.

  “I got an internship at NASA. It’s like a program for people like me,” he said. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

  “A deal-breaker?”

  “Yeah.” He stared at a glob of gum that was plastered on the carpet, probably decades ago, still toying with my fingers absentmindedly.

  “I don’t get it. Why would you getting an amazing internship be a deal-breaker? And for what, exactly?”

  He looked up, a sadness there I didn’t expect or care much for. I liked happy Daniel. This Daniel looked like he’d been kicked in the face. “I don’t know, never mind. It was a stupid thought. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  He didn’t give me much chance to argue. He stood quickly, pulling me with him. “We need to finish our work if we’re ever going to plan this revenge thing.”

  “Revenge? You mean making Ronin jealous?” I asked.

  “Are we still on that? Seriously, Peaches, you deserve better than Ronin McKinsey.”

  I sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but maybe you’re wrong. I can’t know for sure, not yet anyway. We had a great friendship before we dated. I’m not sure what went wrong, but I need to know, Daniel.”

  “Why? Why do you want to torture yourself trying to win back someone who doesn’t deserve you?” he asked, his personality shifting way too fast for me to keep up anymore.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted something so much it felt more out of reach than anything? That was Ronin for me. Then suddenly, I had him, then I lost him before I even had a chance to appreciate what we had. That’s how I feel, Daniel. I feel like I got all I wanted, then it slipped through my fingers. Maybe he’s not the right guy for me in the long run, but I’ve gotta do this. I have to know for sure.”

  Daniel licked his lips, a reply there on the tip of his tongue, but instead of saying what was on his mind, he said, “Sure, I guess so.”

  And that was that. End of conversation. Not another word uttered about Ronin or prom. It was strict
ly calculus and French until the store closed. We walked back to the school lot to pick up his bike and my car, all the while, I wondered if I had done something wrong. I was beginning to think he’d changed his mind, not only about the plan but also about our friendship. I couldn’t say why; he just... changed. The distance between us was uncomfortably vast, and I hated it.

  When we reached my car, he nodded and said, “Night, Hazel.”

  Hazel. No Peaches, just Hazel. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. I got out of the car, slammed the door, and marched up to him as he slid his helmet over his head.

  “What is your problem, huh? You talk to me like you’re some all-knowing super-human, which makes me feel stupid by the way, then you act like I’m not good enough for you anymore. What’s the issue, Daniel? What changed?”

  He took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying with this on. What are you screaming about?”

  “Ugh! Darn you, Daniel!” I stomped my foot and turned away from him, but he caught my shoulder and spun me around.

  “What? What did I do?”

  “You shut me out! You told me your secret, then shut me out. I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’m sorry you regret telling me, but I can’t exactly unhear it, now can I?” I felt my lip pucker, and my eyes started to sting, so I bit my lip to hold back the stupid tears.

  He put his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’ve never told anyone that before, besides my family, and it freaked me out,” he admitted. “I’m not sure why I even told you, but Peaches, that’s not why I shut down.”

  “Why then?” I mumbled into his shoulder, sniffling.

  “I shut down, because I... I like you, Hazel. You’re my friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, especially when it’s gonna hurt as much as this will,” he said, releasing me from the hug. “But if it’s what you truly want, then I’ll help you. And Peaches?”

  I wiped away the tears that escaped despite my best effort to halt them. “Yeah?” I asked.