"Okay," she said louder than she needed to while looking intently at the camcorder buttons, "take one of Die Friihstuck- Verein auf Deutschland." Her German accent was messy, but I could piece together the words she had said from past vocabulary lists. The name of the movie was The Breakfast Club in Germany. I laughed out loud as soon as I pieced it together.
Drew looked up at me from behind the camera. "What's so funny?" The other girls watched me in silence.
I uncomfortably tucked my hair behind my ears. "What does The Breakfast Club have to do with post-World War Two Germany?"
Drew looked at me with a sincerely confused expression. "World War Two ended in the forties, Gemma."
"Okay?" I waited for the explanation.
"The Breakfast Club was in the eighties, which is after the forties."
I gasped with laughter once again. But no one else was laughing. Before I had a chance to object-before I had a chance to explain to them that we were all going to fail the midterm project if we turned in a homemade German version of The Breakfast Club, Drew gave Stella the cue to start the music, which was a modern version of "99 Luft Balons" by Nena. The music was loud, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. No one had given me a script. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Drew and the other three girls danced in front of the camcorder.
"Come on!" Drew whispered. She was smiling widely while whipping her head around in circles. "Dance!"
I started mimicking their eighties dance moves. I followed Carmen as she did the pony, and then I started turning my head in circles like Drew, my long hair whipping around my head and against my closed eyelids. We danced for half of the song until Drew gave Stella the cue to lower the volume so that the song became background music. Drew then waved her hand at Stephanie, who quickly grabbed a poster board from off the couch that read "Verzogerung" and held it in front of the camera. I didn't recognize the word.
"What does that mean?" I whispered to Stella, who was standing closest to me.
"Detention."
I gave her a look of confusion.
"That's what The Breakfast Club is about. It's about five kids in detention." She whispered it so loudly I was almost positive it would be heard on the camcorder, but I decided that wasn't a bad thing, since anyone watching this movie would be as confused as I was. It was beginning to be clear as to why Drew said they needed another person in their group. There were five kids in detention in the original movie, and I was the fifth kid. Drew and Carmen scurried around, putting five kitchen chairs in front of the camera, then everyone sat down, so I did too. The camcorder never stopped running. Drew said it was more artistic to change scenes while it was still on record. I believed her. The rest of the movie consisted of us all trying to talk to each other like we were angry students in detention. Of course it had to be in German, so the sentences were short and simple and consisted of the few vocabulary words we remembered. A couple of times Drew picked a fight with someone, which eventually turned into a fake fist fight right in front of the camera. The movie ended ten minutes later with us all deciding to be friends and giving each other high fives. Stella turned the song back on, and we all danced again until Drew ran over to the camcorder and yelled cut.
Between the afternoon I spent at Drew's house and the day our project was due, I had a handful of conversations with Drew and her posse, though we talked about little more than our video.
The mid-term project was due the first Tuesday in March. Frau Hart called each group up to the front of the class one group at a time to read their stories to everyone. It was tedious just listening to the other group's stories. For one thing, they were extremely long and boring and full of words that none of us knew! And for another thing, I was agonizing over the humiliation I was going to feel when we had no story, but a completely unsystematic video about an eighty's movie.
"Drew?" Frau Hart peered over her glasses and scanned the room until she spotted our little group. "Your group is next." Frau Hart was all business. I was terrified of what her reaction would be to our movie. I wiped my sweaty hands along my jeans as I stood up to walk to the front of the class. Before I had a chance to move, Drew nudged me and motioned for me to sit down.
"Frau Hart," Drew spoke with confidence, and I didn't understand how she could not be scared of the teacher, "it won't be necessary for my whole group to come up with me. We don't have a story to read." She held up a tiny disc in her left hand. "We took the effort to act out our story and record it onto a DVD. I have it here to show everyone."
We took the effort? The way Drew phrased it even I was convinced that we had done something special. Maybe we would get a good grade after all. But then again, Frau Hart hadn't seen the movie yet. Surely as soon as she saw that it had nothing to do with German's history she'd give us a failing grade. Frau Hart scurried to her feet and rolled the television and DVD player to the front of the room. I was in shock; so far she hadn't said a thing about us not following the assignment. Drew smoothly turned on the equipment and slid the disc in the player.
"Frau Hart, would you mind turning off the light?"
My jaw nearly dropped to the floor as Frau Hart flipped off the light switch and scurried back to her desk to watch the movie. The entire class was staring at the black screen, and I felt nauseated as I thought about that first scene when Drew had first turned on the camera at her house. I had been standing clueless in the center of the room when the music had come on. My awkward and confused face was going to be the first thing that everyone saw. I was going to look like a complete idiot!
But I was wrong again. The first thing to appear on the black screen were words. The first words listed our names. I was surprised to see my name at the top of the list. Then the title of the movie showed in German with the English name in parentheses below it. While the title was still showing, the opening song began. When the actual movie finally started, we were well into our dancing. My awkward stance had been totally skipped over! The whole class watched the five dancing girls with wide, excited eyes. Even Frau Hart had an amused look on her face. The rest of the film looked like a completely different movie than what I had participated in that day at Drew's house. There were distinct cuts and scene changes. There were smooth close-ups of each of us as we spoke. It actually looked like a good movie! I was amazed! And so was the rest of the class. I glanced at Trace once-probably out of habit-to see him leaning forward on his elbows, intently watching the movie. I watched him as his eyes moved around the screen. He had a new expression every time we spoke on the movie. When the movie finally ended, everyone cheered and clapped their hands. Frau Hart was laughing joyfully and even clapped her hands a couple times as she stood up to turn the lights back on.
"Wundervoll! Wundervoll!" Frau Hart exclaimed as she rolled the television back to its place behind her desk. "Fur deine grogen Anstrengungen danke," which in English meant, "Wonderful! For your great efforts, thank you!"
I couldn't believe it. Drew had gotten away with it. We all had gotten away with it! Our project was a hit! I looked over at Drew, who was lounging back in her chair with a slight grin as though it was no particular big deal at all. The next group was called, and I figured that the end of our project meant the end of my friendship with Drew, Stella, Stephanie, and Carmen. I didn't belong with those girls anyway. They had a magic that I couldn't compete with. So I was surprised when I walked out of class when the bell rang and heard Drew yell my name. "Gemma, wait up!"
I stopped in place and turned around as the rest of my German class whizzed by me. I felt some of them looking at me differently, and then I saw Trace. He was walking toward me and looking at me straight in the eyes. I stopped breathing. When he got within six inches of me, he stepped to the side and breezed past me while whispering, "Nice dancing."
Was he serious? Was he mocking me? I couldn't tell. But the smell of his cologne twirled through my hair and around my nose, and the same fluttery feelings that I had about him last year danced inside my stomach once
again. Before I had a chance to analyze what had just happened, my elbow was being yanked and I looked down to see Drew at my side.
"Do you know him?"
"What? Who?" I looked around as though I didn't know what she was talking about.
"Trace Weston. Are you friends with him?"
I blew a raspberry through my lips. "Trace Weston and mefriends? Uh, no."
"Hm." She looked at me unconvinced then without skipping a beat asked, "Where's your locker?"
Her question threw me. Did she know that Trace's locker was beside mine? I wasn't sure if I was quite prepared to reveal that hidden treasure. "Uh, it's... " I pointed toward the eighth grade all.
She looked disgusted. "You're in the eighth grade hall?"
"My family was out of town during registration, so I... "
She seemed to guess the rest of the story. "You should put your books in mine and Carmen's locker from now on." It was closer to a demand than a suggestion. She started walking down the hall again and I followed.
"Where are the other girls?" I didn't have to say their names. She knew who I was talking about.
She shrugged. "I don't know. They're big girls. They can make it to third period on their own."
She had just finished speaking when the three girls in discussion bounced around us from behind. "Where'd you go?" Stephanie asked as she watched Drew, who barely acknowledged her. Stephanie looked hurt.
"We always wait for you," Stella spoke more quietly, like she only meant for us to accidentally overhear what she had said.
Drew didn't respond to either of their complaints. I thought she was mad, but three seconds later she was banging her hands together wildly. "Girls, take a look at Kit Walker!" She pointed toward where he was standing then turned to us with one hand cupping her mouth as she whispered loud enough for us all to hear, "I think he forgot his pants this morning."
Kit Walker was a full-fledged jock. He was captain of the ninth grade basketball team and even dressed for the high school junior varsity team. He was one of the most popular guys in the school. So popular, in fact, that he could get away with running to his locker in only his boxers to grab the gym shorts he had accidentally left there.
"Hey, Kit!" Drew yelled out to him with her contagious and carefree laugh. "You forgot to put on pants today!"
Kit didn't even look up from his locker. He was still rooting around looking for something when he yelled, "Drew! Haven't I told you? Pants are so overrated!" He looked up at us all just as we approached him. He had a huge grin on his face as he slapped Drew's hand and told her he missed seeing her more often. He patted Carmen on the back, as she was the only other girl close to him, and he even looked me in the eye for a moment.
"Seriously though, Kit. Where are your shorts?"
Kit cocked his head back. "I really don't know! I thought they'd be in here." He looked down at his plaid boxer shorts and shrugged. "I guess these will just have to do for gym class today." Then he scurried off to the gymnasium, leaving Drew in a fit of laughter as she continued down the hall.
I followed her to her locker, which I found out was shared by Stella, Stephanie, and Carmen too. The locker was lined with cut out magazine photographs of celebrities and male models, and it smelled like a combination of hairspray and perfume.
"So who do you like, Gemma?" Drew asked it so casually you would have thought she asked what I was having for lunch.
"Who do I like?" I said hesitantly. Jess's face blazed in my mind, and Trace came in as a distant second. But I had made the mistake of revealing my crushes to Clarissa and Nina, and that had been a disaster. I wasn't about to spill the beans now to a girl that I barely knew.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" she urged.
My shoulders fell with a twinge of embarrassment. "No." I was sure that all of them had been kissed at least once by now.
"Who do you like then?"
My heart pounded as Jess's name danced on the tip of my tongue. "No one," I lied as I put my smallest book in the locker.
"Well, you must like someone. What about Trace Weston?"
My stomach fluttered when she mentioned his name. But I puffed out my bottom lip and said, "No."
Drew looked up at me with skeptical eyes. Then her attention was drawn downward. "What about that bracelet. You wear it every day." She cocked her head to one side. "Where did you get it?"
I looked down at the bracelet that Jess had given me and wondered how I was going to escape Drew's line of questioning. "It was a gift," I caressed the dangling ruby with my fingers, "from a good friend." I looked back up at Drew and changed the subject. "How about you? Who do you like?"
Drew beamed with wide excited eyes. "Trace!" she whispered. "I was afraid you liked him, so I didn't want things to be weird, but I'm so glad you don't!"
My breath got stuck somewhere between my sternum and my tonsils. "Oh, yeah. He's all yours." Which was mostly true, but when she said she liked Trace, a flare of jealousy shot through my chest.
Drew shut the locker and started walking down the hall. I fell in stride next to her while the other three girls followed behind us. I felt weird, like I was co-leading a pack of wolves. I could see people watching us, and I felt myself stand a little straighter as we passed through the hall of lockers.
"I just get so nervous around him," Drew said.
I was so disoriented by the fact that I was actually walking down the hall with Drew and her friends that I barely realized that she was talking to me.
"Nervous?" I repeated stupidly. "Around who?"
"Trace!" she said, giving me a duh look.
"Oh."
"What should I say to him?" Drew was looking up at me with hopeful eyes, and I couldn't believe that she was actually asking me for advice. I kept waiting for someone to jump out of a locker with a video camera and have the whole school yell in unison, "Got ya!"
"Um," I started as I dodged other students coming toward us in the hall, "just say hi to him, I guess."
"Hi." Drew repeated it a couple times in a different voice each time. "Well, this is my next class." I barely got the chance to register what she had said before she disappeared into the classroom. Before I knew it, the other three girls had scattered as well, and I was left standing alone on the opposite side of the school, wondering how I ended up in this place.
"I have no idea why she wants to be my friend." I was shoveling pretzels into my mouth after school while Jess sat lounging on our couch in the front room. He had been coming inside a lot more since his week and half long stay at our house last Christmas. "I mean, she already has a million friends. Why does she need another one?"
"Maybe she heard about your photography skills and is hoping you'll give her some pointers."
I scowled and tossed a couch pillow at his head.
"You're not allowed to tease me about that yet! It's still too fresh. The wounds haven't completely healed."
Jess threw back his head. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he choked on his breath for a second. "It was a year ago!"
"It's still too fresh," I repeated with a smug look on my face. "I'll let you know when I've healed. Speaking of Trace... " I looked up at Jess from just under my eyelids. "Drew likes him."
Jess's laughter died down, and he focused on my face. "That shouldn't be a big deal. Last I heard, he didn't deserve you."
I looked down at my fingers, which were pulling at a loose string on my sweatshirt. "I guess," I muttered. After a few silent seconds I looked back up at Jess, who was silently watching me with a searching expression.
"Do you still like him?" Jess asked, and I couldn't tell if he was jealous or just confused-or both.
I carefully thought about my response to his question. Yes, I had to admit to at least myself that I still got flustered whenever Trace was present. And that, yes, I still got slightly disoriented whenever he and I made eye contact. But I was also starting to have feelings for Jess. I couldn't explain it to myself, so how was I supposed to explain it to Jess?
>
"You know what I want to do sometime?" Jess said before I could answer. I knew he was diverting the conversation topic on purpose.
I shook my head. "No, what?"
"I want to go to Niagara Falls."
I wasn't expecting that. "Niagara Falls?" I twisted my face. Of all places to dream about visiting, he chose Niagara Falls?
He ignored my reaction. "Have you ever been to Niagara Falls?" he repeated the name with reverence, as though it were a sacred place.
I scowled. "You know I've never been there, Jess." He knew every place I had ever been. And he knew my vacation history was limited to Cape Cod and one trip to Florida for my great Aunt Lucy's funeral.
"I've wanted to go to Niagara Falls ever since I saw the original Superman movie. You know, the one with Christopher Reeves?"
"Superman?"
"Yeah, you remember. The kid falls off the ledge at Niagara Falls, and Superman saves him."
"That wasn't Niagara Falls." I retorted.
"Of course it was. Where else would it be?"
"Why would Superman go to Niagara Falls?"
"He goes there with Lois Lane."
"I am absolutely positive that you're wrong."
"Either way, I'm going to go there someday." He started twisting a pillow in his hands. "I love water."
I didn't respond. I was too busy trying to flip the battery cover off our television's remote control. Jess sat up abruptly. "Why don't we go to the lake more often?"
Jess and I lived on the shores of Lake Emery. It was just a small fishing lake, and during the summer months it was our home away from home. But during the winter months it was muggy and cold and mostly frozen over.
"Because the lake is boring and gross in the winter," I replied as I snapped the battery cover off with my fingernail.
"Let's go now!" Jess sat up straight and looked at me for an encouraging response.
Second Kiss Page 10