There are a lot of “oohs” and “no ways” coming from the students. But nobody raises their hands.
“Today we’re going to tell you about this British dude who did just that. A poet who loved so passionately, that when his girl fell in love with someone else and tried to pull the plug, he did the same thing.”
Carter gives me a wink and I look back at him for a moment in amazement. He totally and 100% completely rocks. It’s hard, but I break my gaze from him, turn to the class, and tell them some facts about Robert Graves’s life.
When we finish the presentation, everyone claps and Mrs. Miller says, “Excellent, excellent,” as she jots down notes. While we walk down the row to our seats, Carter reaches back and gives my hand a squeeze. I feel my face flush. Ohmigod, did anyone see that? And better yet, can I get him to do it again?
The rest of class flies by and I barely listen to the other students’ speeches. After we gave ours, nobody wanted to go. One girl even complained that it wasn’t fair to have to give her presentation after ours. Which Mrs. Miller said was utter nonsense as we all had the same amount of time to prepare, but I could totally sympathize; not everyone was lucky enough to partner with WWFPOET.
When the bell rings, we head out the door and Carter stops me in the hallway.
“You were awesome, Brooke,” he says. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, just under my hair, and gives me a couple of light squeezes.
The mini-skin sparklers are going off on my neck now and I feel like I could just faint right here in this very spot.
“Me? You were awesome,” I gush.
“Okay, we both were phenomenal,” he says with a laugh.
“Together we are. I mean, we work really well…together,” I stumble.
We both stand in the hall, staring at each other…waiting. I know he is going to say something else. Like, how we should continue this outside of class. Maybe meet for another coffee and discuss more poetry. But he doesn’t. And I don’t. And the moment when it would have been perfect to ask Carter out passes and now it is just an awkward moment.
“Well,” he says, switching his stack of books from one hand to the other, “I guess I’ll see you around.”
I nod. Carter leaves and I turn in the opposite direction, taking the long way back to my locker. Argh. I can’t believe I botched it up again. I totally screwed up the perfect opportunity to ask him out.
Chapter 22: To Send, or Not to Send
Lizzie and I decide that tonight will be our girls’ night. Partly because she has been so freaking mopey all day that I don’t think she’ll make it until tomorrow night without some heavy duty cheering up and partly because Chris had the nerve during gym class today to ask me what we were doing tonight. I mean really. He thinks he’s all Rico Suave now or something with this Brooke on Wednesday night, Cassie on Thursday night, Brooke on Friday night stuff. And when I said no, he actually whined, “But Brooke…we always spend Friday nights together.” I couldn’t believe it. “Really?” I said to him. “What about when you had that family dinner last Friday night?” A.K.A. Cassie. And he said, “But that was family.” Seriously. He said that. So he must think that he’s either super sneaky or I’m brain dead. I said, “Well, Lizzie is like family and she needs me so that’s where I’ll be tonight.” Let him go run off and find Cassie if he gets bored. Of course, she probably has a date with her own boyfriend tonight.
Sigh. Carter. He’s another reason I want to have a girls’ night with Lizzie tonight. I need a major distraction. I can’t stop thinking about him. I started out wanting to date him to get back at Cassie, but now I think I really like him. I know I’m happiest when I’m spending time with him. That has to mean something.
“So which one do you think she was better in?” Lizzie asks. She’s lying on her stomach in front of my TV, with one of my pillows in her arms.
“Huh?” Whoops. I’ve been completely tuned out for a while now. I’m sitting on my pink fuzzy bean bag chair and we’ve been watching the season one DVD of La Jolla Cove.
“You didn’t hear me at all?”
“I’m sorry. I must have been day dreaming. What was your question?”
“Whitney Lucas,” Lizzie says, standing up and crossing the room to the birds’ cage. “Do you think she was better on La Jolla Cove or The Pier?”
“Oh, definitely The Pier. She seemed to be more herself on that show. They portrayed her too much as the evil vixen in the La Jolla Cove series.”
Lizzie picks up Baby’s special pink sleigh bell with hearts cut out all over it and rings it for her. Baby loves when I ring her bell. It’s her favorite toy. I still don’t know what Chris Jr. likes. Of course, sometimes I feel like I don’t know what any of the males of any species likes.
“But everyone loves a good evil vixen,” Lizzie says, looking over her shoulder at me.
An image of Cassie draped all over Chris and sneering at me enters my mind. “Not everyone,” I say.
“You seem super distracted tonight. Is something wrong?” She comes over to where I’m sitting and squats on the floor.
I immediately feel bad. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I’m supposed to be cheering you up and I’m just sitting here in a daze.”
“It’s okay. Is something wrong? Tell me about your problem and it will distract me from mine.”
Ugh, that’s just not possible. I can’t tell Lizzie everything that has been going on with me lately, best friend or not. I swore an oath not to spill about the BSC and explaining to her what is going on with Cassie and Chris and me and Carter, well, it just wouldn’t make any sense without the BSC history divulged. And Carter is occupying the majority of my mind tonight. I have to, want to, ask him out and I don’t think I should wait until school Monday. I think I should do it as soon as possible. Like, this weekend. But how? Send him an e-mail? To: Carter, From: Brooke, Re: Date with me? That’s too much like a modern check-the-box-if-you-like-me note. Not to mention if Cassie somehow gets into his e-mails, she’ll flip out. But maybe I can e-mail him and ask him to meet me somewhere and then ask him out in person?
“Are you going to do this all night?” Lizzie asks.
“What?”
“Get that glazed look on your face and stare at some invisible thing over my head.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. I sit up on my bean bag chair and stare straight at Lizzie, willing myself not to let my mind wander again.
“Is it Chris?” she asks gently.
“Is what Chris?”
“The reason you are so out of it tonight. Are you upset about Chris and…you know…”
I widen my eyes at her. “What?”
“Well, I thought you might already know, but if you didn’t, I swear I was going to tell you tonight,” Lizzie says.
“Tell me what? Just say it.” I already know it is going to be bad. I glance over at the birds’ cage. Chris Jr. is flying all over doing an acrobatic show again and Baby is sitting still giving him a really pissed off look. I so know how she feels right now.
“Well…Shannon told me today that she and her mom were out in Apple Grove last night. At a doctor’s appointment or something.” She pauses.
I nod. “And…?”
“And then I guess they stopped somewhere to have dinner and when they were walking in…” Lizzie looks at my face and frowns.
“Just tell me, Lizzie.”
“She said she saw Chris and Cassie going out to his car with a doggie bag. So they had just finished dinner,” she adds quickly. Like I couldn’t draw that conclusion myself.
I nod again. That only confirms what I already thought—Chris had a date with Cassie last night.
“Are you mad?” Lizzie asks in a low voice. Like she’s bracing herself for my explosive reaction. Which isn’t going to happen.
I shrug my shoulders.
“It could just be another one of those strange coincidences…like that day at the mall,” Lizzie offers.
Ha! Yeah, no. It’s not a coincidence.
“Nah,” I say.
“Really?” Her mouth drops open in surprise.
“Chris is a big boy. If he wants to go dinner with Cassie, then whatever. I don’t care.”
“Wow,” she says. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”
“Yeah, well. Hey, listen, would you mind grabbing a bag of popcorn out of our pantry and popping it for us so I can send a super quick e-mail?” I say.
Lizzie gives me a nod and a tight smile. I know she must think I’m going to write a chewing out e-mail to Chris but he is so not going to be in my sent items tonight.
Soon as Lizzie walks out of my room, I sit down at my computer and launch my e-mail program.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Saturday morning
Hey Carter,
Any chance you can meet me for a latte tomorrow morning? Say 10-ish at that same Bookends café? I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.
-Brooke
Send. Okay, it’s done. Tomorrow morning, I am asking him out.
Chapter 23: See You Latte
It took me thirty minutes to put together my outfit this morning. I wanted something that said cute, fun, and sexy. Not safe, friend, homework buddy. I went with a fitted pale pink collar shirt open at the neck and my Seven jeans with my BSC scarf tied through my belt loops. I pulled my bangs back with a few bobby pins, trying for a wispy, sexy look, and applied shimmery brown eye shadow and liner, hoping it made my blue eyes look bigger. I finished off with a light coat of my pink Clinique lipstick that the girl at the counter swore was my shade. I would have woke Lizzie up and asked for her help but then she would have wanted to know why and where I was going. Luckily, she sleeps like a hibernating bear, so I left her a note that said I was running out for coffee and I’d be back soon.
At the café, I order two lattes and sit at the same table where we worked on our project. It might be stupid but I’m hoping it gives me some kind of luck. I glance at my cell phone, 10:01, and then the door. Okay, so he’s a little bit late. No biggie. I take a tiny sip of my latte and my right leg shakes nervously under the table.
The café is pretty empty this morning. There are two old guys reading the paper on the couch and a woman with a baby in a stroller, leafing through a Star magazine and sipping on her drink. Even the coffee guy is bored—he’s refilling the magazine rack to pass the time instead of standing behind the big red espresso machine waiting for customers.
Five more minutes go by and still no Carter. I wonder if Cassie did see my e-mail and deleted it? Or, worse, Carter saw it and blew it off. My heart sinks at the thought of the latter. Maybe this is a stupid idea. Maybe I should just go home.
Ah crap. Delaney just walked into the bookstore. What’s she doing here? I doubt she reads. Ugh, she spotted me. I put my head in my hand and pretend like I’m fascinated by the words written across the table. I’m just going to ignore her. It’s worked well for us for so long. I sneak a glance at her. Oh nuts, she’s headed straight for me.
“Can I sit down?” Delaney asks.
I shrug.
She stiffly takes a seat and we don’t say anything for a few moments. There are tons of things I want to say like, how did you become so stuck up? How could you ditch me like that in junior high? And do you still have my High School Musical DVD set that I left in your bedroom forever ago but never got up the nerve to ask for? But I don’t say any of that. All I say is, “Do you want something? I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.” If he shows up, that is. I scan the room again. No Carter.
“Brooke,” Delaney begins cautiously, “I know we haven’t been friends in a long time.”
“Ha!” I say.
Delaney is briefly startled and then continues. “And I know that’s on me and there’s no point in rehashing the past.”
Rehash? We never hashed in the first place.
“My point is that I’m concerned for you,” Delaney finally gets out.
“Oh please,” I snap.
“I am,” she insists. “It’s just, don’t mess with Cassie. You shouldn’t even be in the BSC. The club is…” She bites her lip and looks off to the side.
“You know what?” I abruptly say, “I’m sick of everyone telling me what I can and can’t handle. I know what I’m doing and I can handle Cassie. How about you worry about you and I’ll worry about me. It’s worked for us so far, right?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “If there’s nothing else, I have a date.”
Delaney looks flustered but it feels good to stand up to her. She doesn’t say another word. Just purses her lips, stands up, and leaves.
I take a deep breath. I’m a little shaken up from that scene and I need to regain my composure before Carter gets here. If he does at all that is.
A few more minutes pass and I’m ready to call it quits. I feel totally stupid sitting here by myself. He isn’t coming. I don’t know why I thought he would. Or why I thought there was some kind of connection between us. Obviously the connection is one-sided. I stand up and wipe the pieces of napkin I had been tearing up into my right palm and scan the café for a garbage can.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late.” Carter is walking toward me with a big smile on his face. He looks like he just got out of the shower, and when he approaches our table, I can smell the Irish Spring soap on his skin. Relief washes over me. He actually came. Not even five seconds later, my relief is replaced with a million butterflies. Ohmigod, this is it.
“No biggie,” I say, like I’m oh so calm when really I may explode at any second. “Sit, drink. I’ll be back in a sec—just want to toss out this trash.” I walk slowly to the garbage can by the door, steeling my nerves for what I’m about to do. I wipe the napkin bits into the trash and look back. Carter is turned around in his chair watching me. Him checking me out is a good sign. This might not be so bad.
I sit down across from Carter and smile. “So thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I just really wanted to talk to you.” I take a slow sip of my drink. Wow. Listen to me sounding all smooth. Maybe I am picking up some things from Boy Swap.
“Sure.” He flexes both of his hands out on the table and then folds them together.
Is he nervous too?
“So what’s up?” he asks.
Breathe. This is it. “Well, how should I say this?” I ask, more to myself than to him. I guess fast like ripping off a Band-Aid would be best. Before I have a chance to wimp out again. I pull at the silver heart locket around my neck, trying to put together the words. “Okay, basically, I really like you, Carter. I had a great time working with you this past week and I love talking with you and spending time with you and I was hoping it didn’t have to end just because our project is over.” I can feel myself talking really fast, like a runaway train, but I can’t pull the brakes now. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was kind of hoping that maybe you felt something similar and that you might want to, I don’t know, like, go on a date some time? With me?”
There. I did it. I want to put my hands over my eyes and hide but I can’t tear my eyes away from his. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he digests everything I just spewed at him. Well, he didn’t run away from the table screaming so we have a good start here.
“Brooke,” he begins.
Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound like a lead-up to a, “yeah sure.”
“I like talking and spending time with you too. It’s been cool getting to know you this past week. But…”
There it is. The “but.” The part where the guy tells the girl to hit the road. “I know, I know, ‘you’re just not that into me,’ right?” I say, quoting the Sex in the City writer guy who made that line famous.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” he says. “You’re really smart, and funny, and beautiful…”
I can feel my cheeks redden. He thinks I’m beautiful.<
br />
“And I totally would be into you,” he pauses briefly, “if I wasn’t into somebody else.”
Ouch. There it is. “Cassie?” I ask, like I’m not already completely aware that he’s been dating her for a million and a half years.
He nods. “We’ve been together for a long time and I just wouldn’t feel right cheating on her.”
Ack! The irony is too much. He wouldn’t feel right cheating on her. She probably hasn’t been faithful to him for more than two minutes of their entire relationship but he’s staying faithful to her.
We’re both silent for a moment until I can finally speak. “I understand. You’re a good guy, Carter.”
He shrugs. He doesn’t look too happy about being a good guy at the moment.
“Well, I had to give it a try, huh?” I say, trying to laugh it off. I gather up my stuff, like I suddenly have somewhere I need to be. I stand up and Carter grabs my hand. My skin instantly tingles from his touch. How does he not feel the tingles too? I feel my face growing redder and I look toward the door to avoid looking at him.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Can we still be friends?” He rubs his thumb gently across my fingers.
Not the “Can we be friends?” thing. In other words, can we pretend that we will be friends but really never talk again and just be awkward around each other?
“Sure,” I say. “Why not?” I reluctantly take my hand back and walk out of the café and down the sidewalk that winds around the building. I’m not sure why but I peek into the café window and see Carter still sitting at the table, leaning on his palms.
* * *
“Where’s the coffee?” Lizzie asks, sitting up on the bed when I walk into my room.
Ah shoot. I forgot to bring back lattes. “I was thinking Oreo cookies and cookie dough ice cream sounded better for breakfast. What do you think?”
“Yum,” she says, actually looking happy for the first time in three days.
“Be right back,” I say.
Boy Swap Page 11