Perfectly Oblivious (The Perfect Series Book 1)

by Robin Daniels

  Lilly tisked me and clicked her tongue. “Now who’s being conceited? There’re probably plenty of geeky girls out there that’d love to get their hands on a man who’s willing to role play.” She gave me a suggestive look.

  “Be serious, Lilly.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I am being serious. Just because a guy doesn’t look like Rob Emerson, doesn’t mean a girl won’t be into him.” Leave it to Lilly to call me out on being judgmental—another one of my less than stellar personality traits.

  “You’re right,” I admitted. “But, as the head of the auction committee, my name is attached to the success of the event. If we don’t bring in a decent amount of money, not only will we have a sucky senior party, but Rob will never trust me to do anything.”

  “It’ll be fine, Ivy. I’m sure you’ll find the perfect boy to complete your list by the end of the day. Just promise me that you won’t overlook anyone because he isn’t your ideal candidate.”

  Lilly was always my voice of reason and the only person who could get away with calling me out like that. I sighed at my better half and agreed to her request.

  “I promise.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The senior date auction was an annual fundraising event at Franklin High School, the proceeds of which went to planning and hosting the senior graduation party. The student council was in charge of both events. This year, Rob had assigned me as chair of the auction and himself as chair of the party. Figures that I’d have to make the money so he could spend it.

  The auction tradition started five years ago. Franklin’s former principal, Mr. Nelson, was a dirty old man. So, when that year’s senior class suggested a date auction, his loose morals didn’t object. The auction itself was successful, but there were a lot of issues after the fact.

  Only girls had been auctioned off, so some felt objectified, and others disappointed that they didn’t have an opportunity to bid. A few of the girls weren’t happy about the specific boys that had purchased them and blew off their dates completely. This resulted in very angry customers who’d paid a lot of money for nothing. One girl made good on her date by taking him to Dairy Queen then calling it a night. Not cool. Basically, the guy got a two-hundred-dollar ice cream cone. The biggest faux-pas of all, was the lack of a minimum age requirement. Rumor has it that Principle Nelson got chewed out by an angry mom who was pissed when an eighteen-year old boy “bought” her fourteen-year old daughter…without her approval.

  The next year Principal Nelson retired and Vice Principal Anderson took his place. He wanted to nix the auction all together, but there was no denying that the event was a huge money maker. So, he allowed it to continue, with a lengthy list of rules attached.

  First, only seniors could participate, and if they weren’t eighteen yet, they needed to have a signed consent form. Second, there had to be an equal number of male and female dates. Third, date activities must be planned and paid for by the person being auctioned, clearly defined during the event and completed within one week. Finally, participants and parents had to sign a code of conduct. In short, it said that everyone would follow the rules, that nobody would be forced or expected to engage in physical intimacy, and that the school couldn’t be held liable for any subsequent relationships formed as a result of participation.

  Since then, the auction had gone off without a hitch. Even though seniors were the only ones participating, anyone could pay five bucks to watch the show. Of course, thanks to Rob, now the admission price would be fifteen dollars and dinner would be included. (Yep, still not a fan of that idea.) I think the auction has been so successful because it’s a great equalizer. An average girl could win a date with the captain of the football team. A shy guy could get his chance with the homecoming queen. People pay good money for opportunities like that, but they expect a lot in return.

  This was the reason I was freaking out as I walked into my last class of the day. Despite what Lilly said, I couldn’t sign up some random person. Unfortunately, my remaining selection was slim. My art class had about twelve boys in it and none of them gave off the ooh-la-la vibe. I had fifty minutes before the list was due on Principal Anderson’s desk and my chances of making that happen were depleting rapidly.

  I threw my backpack down on my table and stomped over to the folder where my current art project was housed. I pulled out the drawing and examined it. I’m not a bad artist but not a great artist either. Normally that wouldn’t have bugged me since I only took art classes for fun. However, my table mate was phenomenal at anything art related. His projects made mine look like something Napoleon Dynamite had drawn.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Andy asked quizzically as I sat down with my drawing and charcoal. I glanced at his picture and, as usual, it was amazing. He was working on a portrait of his mother, and based on the image I saw, he must have thought she was pretty special.

  “Oh, nothing.” I sighed. “I’m only about to become a complete failure and ruin the biggest event of the year.”

  “Wow.” Andy gave a low whistle. “That sounds pretty awful.” His words were sympathetic, but his tone suggested he thought I was being a drama queen. “Maybe if you ask nicely, Ms. Price will let you go in the dark room so you can curl up in fetal position and suck your thumb.” He winked at me, and I let a small smile escape.

  Andrew Walker was a nice guy. We’d had multiple art classes together over the last two years, but never any other subjects. Our school was reallypretty big, and we didn’t run in the same circle, so I didn’t know him very well. Actually, come to think of it, I never even saw him in the halls or at lunch; social gatherings, either. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but he seemed to keep to himself. Andy was totally cool if you could geot him talking, though, so I was sure he had friends. I’m just not sure who those people were.

  “So, Ivy, tell me what tragedy you’re about to single handedly make happen. Does it have anything to do with you getting your butt chewed out by Rob Emerson this morning after homeroom?”

  Huh, guess he’d seen me in the halls. He was speaking to me but working intensely on his drawing. An average person might have thought Andy wasn’t paying attention because he wasn’t making eye contact. But I’d learned over the past couple of months that that was far from the truth. He was a great listener. And, since I was a champion talker, most of our conversations were one sided. He didn’t seem to mind, though, and honestly, I liked having a sounding board that didn’t constantly reprimand me the way Lilly did.

  “You know Rob?” I asked, surprised. Rob was really, really, popular and I’d never seen Andy hanging with him or his friends. Honestly though, I’d never paid much attention. I couldn’t imagine that someone as nice as Andy was buddies with the spawn of Satan…um, I mean a guy like Rob.

  “You could say that,” Andy replied. I noticed some tension in his jaw when he answered, like he was grinding his teeth. He didn’t offer to elaborate on how he knew Rob, so I didn’t push.

  “To answer your question, yes, it has a lot to do with the butt-chewing this morning. And, just for the record, his butt was getting chewed as much as mine. It was a two-way chewing.” I wanted to make sure he understood that I didn’t answer to Rob.

  Andy smiled mischievously, taunting me with his short response. “Sure, it was.”

  “It was,” I insisted before continuing. “See, I’m in charge of the senior date auction this year, and Rob won’t trust me to get my job done. He continually talks to me like I’m incompetent in front of the whole student council. I let him know he was being a jerk, that’s all.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly.

  Andy paused from his drawing and looked up at me. “I’m failing to see where the tragedy lies in all this.”

  “The tragedy, is that the final volunteer list is due in”—I looked at the clock—“thirty-five minutes, and I’m one name short.”

  “Still not seeing what the big deal is. Can’t you just add a name later when you find someone?” How come when Andy said it, the suggesti
on sounded so simple and reasonable? Maybe because he didn’t have an ex-boyfriend-slash-boss named Rob Emerson.

  “Probably, but that isn’t the point. If I don’t have this done when it’s supposed to be, that’ll give Rob a reason to think I can’t handle my role as V.P. He’ll never treat me as an equal.”

  Andy turned back to his drawing and continued working. “Sounds to me like you really care what Rob thinks of you. Does it honestly matter if he doesn’t consider you his equal? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t value most people the way he values himself.”

  I turned from the mediocre drawing of my home and stared at Andy. Did he just insult Rob? I’d never heard a mean word come out of Andrew Walker’s mouth. Even his insult sounded like a matter of fact, rather than a putdown. More dumbfounding, was that he’d implied I was worked up over what Rob thought of me. I didn’t give a rat’s rear end about how Rob felt. Ok, maybe that wasn’t true, but I cared about what everyone thought of me.

  Andy looked up again and saw my expression, which must have made him think he’d hurt my feelings, because he was quick to apologize. “I wasn’t trying to judge you, Ivy. I only wanted you to know that you shouldn’t waste your time trying to impress Rob. He isn’t worth the effort.” Andy pressed his lips together, silently asking if I understood.

  I nodded my head. “I know, you’re right. But, I still have a problem in that I need another volunteer for the auction, regardless of Rob being on my case about it.”

  Andy laid his charcoal on the table. “Ok, so let’s solve your problem. There’re about a dozen guys in here. Surely one of them would be an acceptable and willing volunteer?”

  I surveyed the room and gave Andy the play-by-play of my thoughts. “Let’s see now… Curtis is so tall and gangly that his pants always look like they’re waiting for a flood. Scott’s a good artist, but in our limited interactions, I’ve drawn the conclusion that he has more bong residue in his head than brains. While cute, I’m pretty sure both Todd and Tim are gay, so the pool of people willing to bid on them would be exceptionally small. And then, of course, there’s Mason. Good old Mason, who just last week, I saw pick his nose and wipe the booger on the underside of his table.” I scrunched up my face in disgust. “Eeeew, no. Just…no.”

  I finished scanning the male students and was more discouraged than when I started. I gave Andy my best pouty face. He laughed heartily, something I rarely heard from him. “I agree, Mason does not make the cut.”

  I studied Andy’s face. It was cute with a nice smile and straight teeth. He kept it mostly hidden under a baseball cap and some stylish thick-rimmed glasses, but he had a good nose and a strong jaw. His shaggy light brown hair always stuck out under his hat, but his eyes were areally pretty hazel color. Equal parts green and brown, they were extremely really light, contrasting amazingly with his olive complexion. He was tall and thin, but not wiry like Curtis.

  The wheels in my head started turning at an alarmingly fast rate. He wasn’t exactly the most desired guy in the senior class, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. At least not that I knew of. Most of the girls at the auction probably wouldn’t know who he was but maybe I could work that to his advantage. I mean, who didn’t love a little mystery?

  “Hello? Earth to Ivy.” Andy was waving his hand in front of me. I pulled out of my thoughts, a wide grin spreading slowly across my mouth.

  “I don’t think I like the look on your face, it looks conspiratorial. Are you plotting and scheming up in there?” He pointed to my head.

  “Depends on your definition of plotting and scheming.”

  “My definition is any idea that involves you trying to get me to do something I won’t like doing.”

  “Then yes,” I affirmed, “I’m totally plotting and scheming. I think you should be my tenth volunteer for the auction.”

  Andy scoffed. “Yeah, right. That’s not happening.” He picked up his charcoal and started back to work on his drawing.

  “Why not? It’ll be fun.”

  “I think you and I have different definitions of fun. Plus, you want a guy who’s going to bring in some cash. I bet the only girl who’d bid on me is my mom.”

  “Oh hush! I think you could bring in a bunch of money. You’re good looking, and nice, and extremely talented.” I nodded my head down toward his paper.

  “And not at all popular,” he countered. “I talk to approximately six girls in the senior class on a regular basis, including you. Nobody will waste their money on a complete stranger, no matter how awesome the date itself sounds.”

  “What’s your deal with that anyway? How come you don’t branch out more? It’s not like you’re weird. You’re not even shy. You have no problem talking to me, and I’ve been told I’m pretty intimidating. I assume you’re not scared of girls. Unless…you don’t like girls?” I didn’t mean the question to be an accusation, it was more out of curiosity. He didn’t give off the gay vibe, but if he were playing for the other team, it’d be pointless to push him into the auction.

  Andy’s face turned a bright shade of red. It seemed I’d once again offended someone with my unabashed forwardness. “I like girls,” he insisted quietly. “It’s people in general I’m not fond of. I have friends, and you’re right, I’m notreally shy. I just don’t care for big groups and crowds. I’m not into parties, and I really don’t like being the center of attention.”

  “But parties are fun,” I insisted.

  “Sorry, they aren’t my thing. Nobody acts like themselves at a party. You don’t talk to people and actually get to know them. Conversations are surface level at best. People flirt because they’re attracted to what they see on the outside instead of the person on the inside. It all seems so fake to me. I’d rather spend my time with a couple of close friends doing something I enjoy, that’s all.”

  How could I argue with that? It was sound logic, I supposed. But I was desperate, and I was not above groveling. I slid my chair back from the table and dropped to my knees in front of him, hands clasped in a pleading gesture, eyes giving a puppy dog look. “Please? Please, please, please, pretty please with sugar on top? Andy, will you please help me out here? I’ll owe you big time. I’m begging you.” I batted my eyelashes, pouted my lips, and held my breath.

  Andy studied me carefully then glanced around the room. My outburst had caught the attention of more than one curious art student. A few of the girls in the back were giggling and whispering as they watched us. Ms. Price was looking on from her desk, probably trying to decide if she was going to yell at me for causing a commotion. I didn’t care that people were staring, but it was obviously making Andy uncomfortable.

  I decided to try a different tactic. “How about this… I’ll put your name down so that my list is full, and then I’ll switch you out for someone else later when I can find a replacement.” This was my last-ditch effort to save face in front of Rob.

  Andy continued to watch me make an idiot of myself and sighed. “If I agree to be on your list temporarily, will you get off the floor and stop acting like a big dork?”

  “Yes?”

  “Fine.” He finally relented. “You can put my name down, but only until you find a replacement.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” I lunged forward in an exaggerated show of gratitude and threw my arms around his waist, embracing him tightly. He flinched and tensed up for a moment—I’d caught him off guard. Eventually, he relaxed and put one arm around me, awkwardly patting my back in some semblance of a hug.

  Suddenly, For a moment I forgot what I was doing and leaned into him. Wow, he smelled soreally good. Like soap and dryer sheets and something a little sharper that I couldn’t identify. I needed to ask him what cologne he wore because it was incredible. I could smell him all day. Not to mention his chest was a lot firmer than one would guess since he hides it under baggy button-down shirts all the time.

  Andy cleared his throat, and I pulled away. He looked embarrassed again. He really needed to get over that, a
nd I was going to help him, starting right now. “Sorry.” I grinned. “You smell amazing. Your cologne is yummy enough to eat. I could sit here and sniff you for the rest of the class.”

  He choked on his spit and quickly put his fist over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Please don’t.” He was trying to sound horrified, but his face gave him away, he appreciated the compliment.

  “Ok.” I threw my hands up in surrender. “But fair warning…if I’m having a bad day, I may lean over and smell your neck to induce a calming effect. When that happens, don’t punch me.”

  Andy shook his head, bewildered by the turn our conversation had taken. “I’ll try not to punch you if and when you decide to randomly press your face against my neck.”

  “When you say it like that I sound like a psycho stalker.”

  “Psycho and stalker are your words, not mine. But, if the shoe fits…” He trailed off, and I smacked him on the arm.

  “Ouch!” Andy rubbed the place I’d just hit. “I’m only kidding. I don’t think you’re a psycho stalker. I’ve never seen any indication that you’re a stalker. You’re more likely a plain old psycho.” He was grinning nice and big now, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

  We were snapped from our moment when Ms. Price called out from the front of the room, “Are you two done providing our entertainment? Or, should I call someone from the AV club to capture the discussion on film, so you can relive it in detention?”

  Ms. Price was really chill and I knew her threat was only that, but I didn’t want to push her. “Sorry, Ms. Price. We’re really working. I promise.”

  I picked up my charcoal and pretended to be extra focused on my drawing, but I was having a hard time concentrating. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like Andy was a good choice for the auction. Lilly had warned me not to be judgmental when finding my last candidate. Andy was obviouslydefinitely different from the rest of the guys being auctioned off. Maybe he’d appeal to a goodlarge number of girls because he wasn’t the norm. Besides, I thought it’d be healthygood for him to come out of his shell and I could totally help him do that. He’d make an excellent project. I had to find a way to convince him that he should be in the auction for real.