by RH Tucker
“I do,” she muses. “But I hate how popular Nerd Girl thinks he is. This works out even better.”
I sit there, grinding my teeth. Oscar laughs as Yvette writes. I want to yell at all of them. Tell them that Izzy didn’t think she was popular. She didn’t care what anyone thinks of her. And that makes her awesome. But I can’t say anymore. If I push harder, they’ll want to know why I don’t want to add her to the list. Maybe I can say we’re dating? But that’d be totally out of the blue. And what if they question her about it? It’d probably just turn into a big mess.
Yvette’s still writing, when Oscar looks over at me. “You cool with it, Matt?”
“It’s like whatever.”
The bell rings to signal the end of lunch, and I grab my bag, walking out of the room behind Oscar. We both turn the corner and Oscar suddenly stops without warning. I veer to move around him when I hear his words.
“Hey, Isabel, right?”
What? I stop next to him as he casts me a look. Izzy looks over at me then back at him.
“Depends who’s asking,” she replies, and I smile at the quip.
“The name’s Oscar. Hey, I’ve seen your videos before. About the cartoons and stuff, right?”
She lets out a small laugh and I’m sure Oscar thinks she’s flattered, but I can tell she’s annoyed. “Yeah.” She nods.
“Cool,” he says slowly. Wow, he’s really laying it on thick. “Hey, we should do a video sometime.”
“What?” Now her annoyance is obvious.
“Yeah, I mean, I’d love to get a little one on one camera time with you.”
“Hey—” I start, but Izzy cuts me off.
“You would, huh?” She gives him a flirty smile, which confuses me for a second. “I don’t know; you seem like the kind of guy who’d be shy around the cameras.”
“Oh no, babe.” He pulls out his phone, waving in front of her. “I got some samples if you’d like to see.”
“Ew.” She sticks her tongue out. “No thanks. I wouldn’t want to catch anything.”
I blurt out a quick laugh before stopping myself as Oscar’s head snaps towards me. Looking back at her, he smiles again, and I know he’s thinking about the prom court vote. “Whatever. See you around.” He looks back at me, giving me a nod.
For a moment, our conversation earlier never happened as we both watch Oscar stalk off in defeat, though his ego unaffected. “What was that about?” Izzy asks.
“Nothing. He’s an idiot.”
“Well, that goes without saying.” She smiles up at me. Then a painful silence hits between us. “Hey, I was thinking we should just meet up in the library for the rest of the week. To finish the assignment.”
I look over at her, and my chest squeezes in pain. Why couldn’t she just see past me wanting to keep some of my life private? And now with this joke vote? I still have a single shred of hope that maybe the girls will change their minds and go with Sarah’s first suggestion. The ballots aren’t sent out to classes until next week. Maybe they’ll go back to the band geek.
“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” I nod even though I want to say no.
“Okay, then.”
She gives me another smile, but this one doesn’t reach her eyes. She turns and walks away, and I let out a sigh, wishing things were different.
Chapter 17
Izzy
The rest of the week goes by, and Matt looks about as comfortable as I feel. To his credit, he’s straight to the point when we meet up in the library after school and go over the rest of the packet for sociology. Even though I’m the one who put a stop to everything before it even started, I still find his lips as he reads over his packet. But when his eyes lift from the desk, I immediately look back down to the table. When I look back up, a small smirk comes over his lips.
As much as my mind debates whether or not to indulge in whatever this is between us, it still returns to the catalyst that started our connection; the cosplay contest. He looked terrified and asked me not to say anything. Then, when I got back to school, he was still freaked out about me telling someone.
“So, I guess that’s it,” Matt says behind me as we leave the library.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answer as I keep walking to the parking lot.
“Come on, Izzy.” He stays in step with me, and I feel his eyes on me. “Are you really gonna pretend there’s nothing between us? That you don’t feel anything?”
“It doesn’t matter if I do or not.”
“What? Of course, it matters.”
Walking through the gates, I’m suddenly grateful I parked so close. Pulling out my keys, I unlock my door.
“No, Matt. It doesn’t.”
I’m about to open the door as Matt leans his hand on it. Looking up at him, it takes everything I have to not melt inside as I stare up at his hazel eyes. But I can’t hold the look long. Otherwise, I’ll probably want to pull him close and finish what we started in his room. I look back down at the door handle, my skin feeling like it’s on fire, and he puts a finger under my chin lifting my head up to meet his eyes.
“It does matter.” His leans down closer to me.
Biting my bottom lip, I can only just stare back at him and even if I could force myself to look away, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to. My hand leaves the door handle, and I raise it, putting it on his chest. Part of me believes this will keep a barrier between us, albeit a minimal one. But I really want to touch him again. He leans closer, and there’s no more fight left in my system. Yes, I wish he’d be as open and not care what anyone thinks, but at this exact moment, I want him to kiss me again.
“Yeah! Get it, Hillard!” someone yells behind us.
Matt flinches, looking over at the football field behind us, where the lacrosse team is practicing. As Matt looks behind, I see a couple players staring at us, before getting yelled at by their coach. The small distraction puts me back in control of my emotions.
“Sorry,” he says.
“It’s okay.” My response makes Matt lean close again, smiling. “You’re right, Matt.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I can’t lie and say I don’t feel anything.” His face lights up, but I know his smile’s about to vanish. “Kiss me.”
I don’t have to say it twice. He cups his hands to my cheeks. My entire body screams to let him kiss me. I watch his tongue glides across his bottom lip, as he leans closer and I draw in his scent. I’m not sure how, because I desperately want my lips on his, but just before they meet I bring my finger up and put it to his lips.
“Kiss me …” A sliver of confidence climbs up into my voice. “Right after you yell out how much you love Cowboy Bebop.”
Matt flinches. “Seriously?”
I don’t want to lose my nerve, so instead of talking, I just nod.
“Iz, why is this such a big deal for you?”
He’s still so close; I can feel the heat from his words on me. “It just is. I know who you are, and I like that person. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide it.”
His gaze burrows into mine and I’m still begging on the inside for him to kiss me, but I know he won’t. The hesitation on his face tells me so. I take a step back and reach for my door handle.
“I’ll see you next week, Matt.” I slide into my car as he steps back.
There’s a small Avengers keychain that hangs from my rear-view mirror. It sways back and forth as I pull out of the parking lot and I think of Matt dressed up again. I flash a final look in the rear-view mirror, and Matt’s still standing where I left him. That small sliver of confidence I just had is gone. There’s nothing I can do to stop the tears falling down my cheeks.
I head straight to my room when I get home, my dad calling out his usual greeting from his office. I dry my eyes as much as I can, but I’m sure they’re still red. Throwing my bag on my bed, I sit at my desk and turn on my laptop. I open up the folder that has all my pictures and videos from my trip to New York, and I come across a picture of Matt in co
stume.
Opening up my video editor, I take a deep breath. I love my YouTube channel. It’s fun to talk about everything I like, or to review movies and comics. But I’ve also used it just to connect with people. I’ve talked about the effects of bullying and the fact that my mom died when I was little. I always incorporate whatever I’m talking about back into the channel because I’m sure people don’t just want to hear a girl crying about things on the internet. So, I compare it to stories I’ve read or movies and shows I’ve seen. I talk about the parallels and how they’ve helped me. Looking through my pictures, I’m suddenly hit with the urge to talk about comic book couples.
“Hey, guys.” I wave to the camera, letting out another sniff. “This week has been a little bit of a rough one, so today I’m talking about the complexities of those couples we read about and see on the big screen. Let’s start with Daredevil and Elektra.”
For the next fifteen minutes, I go over Matt Murdoch and Elektra Natchios and other couples people may have read about in comics or seen in movies. I go over Bruce Banner and Betty Ross. I go off on a tangent as I get to Scott Summers and Jean Grey because then I’m reminded of Cyclops other relationship with Emma Frost.
“And I mean, who does that,” I scoff at the camera. “Who has a mental affair with someone else? Crazy.”
Letting out a sigh, I get to the last couple I’m thinking about. The one that inspired this whole video session to begin with.
“And finally, we have Tony Stark and Pepper Pots, the movie versions.” I let out a sigh and stare at the camera for a moment. “They’d be great together, right? I mean, they were great together. But what does ol’ shell head do, when we catch up with him in Civil War? He’s not with Pepper.” I let out an annoyed grunt, feeling anger start to build up. “I get it, okay? I get you don’t want to stop what you’re doing. You’ve got this great life. You’re the man, literally.” I bite my lip, realizing I’m getting a little too worked up. “Uh, I mean, he’s Iron Man. He runs the Avengers. But it was all on him.” I deepen my voice, re-enacting the line from the movie. “And then and then and then I never stopped. Because the truth is I don’t want to stop. Yeah, you didn’t want to stop. You. She could’ve been his, but he’s the one making the choice. Ugh!”
I take another deep breath and just stare at the camera, realizing I better end this video before I get too worked up. “Sorry. As I said, it’s been a tough week. Anyways, yeah, I guess that’s it for today. I guess being a couple is hard.” I give an embarrassed chuckle. “Not that I would know, but still. I guess it takes work on both sides. There needs to be a give and take. May we all find our Alana or Marko out there someday and have a love Saga of our lives. Or maybe, our Black Bolt, who’s totally awesome even though he never whispers a thing.” I give a knowing wink to the camera and then turn it off.
I do a quick edit on the video, nothing major, but take out some of the pauses to make it presentable and upload it. Falling back on my bed, I grab my phone and stare at the few text messages I’ve exchanged with Matt. A small piece of me wants to text him, just so he doesn’t think I hate him. Because I don’t. I just wish he felt as comfortable about things as I do.
Chapter 18
Matt
I do everything I can think of to take my mind off Izzy for the weekend. I meet up with Carter, and we hit the beach. I zone out playing video games with Isaac. I try to focus on nothing but homework, and once that loses interest, I turn on Netflix and watch for hours. But no matter what, I still keep thinking about her. The way her fingers felt on my lips when she stopped me from kissing her. The look in her eyes, telling me she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her. That lotus hair product smell that lingered in the air as she held her head closer to mine. Finally, I decide to surf the internet to try and pass the time.
No. That’s a lie. I’m telling myself I’m just going to surf the internet as I flip open my laptop, but I know exactly what I’m really doing. Checking out her channel.
She didn’t update it at all last week, but there’s a new video uploaded from late Friday night. The initial cover image has her making a goofy face, sticking her tongue out, which makes me laugh until I see the title. ‘Comic Book Couples’.
I nervously click the play button and watch as the video opens up with her sitting in front of her camera, her eyes red as if she’s been crying. My heart cracks, knowing I’m probably the cause of it.
She starts talking about different couples, and when she gets to Cyclops and Emma Frost, the video only has a few minutes left. Then she mentions Tony Stark and Pepper Pots. A small chord inside puts me on edge, wondering if she’s going to mention me. I don’t think she would by name, but maybe she’ll allude to something. She covers their relationship, and it doesn’t go over my head. She’s talking exactly about me.
She seems to perk up a little more at the end and mentions something about finding her Black Bolt. That’s when I wrinkle my nose. I’m Black Bolt, can’t she see that? The dude can level a city just by whispering, so he had to stay quiet. And his wife, the queen of the Inhumans was Medusa, but she was still with him. I feel a spiral of indignation start twisting in my stomach. I can’t say anything, lest I have my entire high school life, that was nearing completion mind you, ripped out from under me and leveled. I have to stay quiet. I don’t care what anyone else likes or dislikes. If they’re my friend, I have their back. Just like I had Carter’s back. But I guess life isn’t a comic book.
When I get to class Monday morning, our teacher goes over the ballot slips just before we start the morning announcements. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, hoping the girls changed their minds, but no such luck. In the middle of the list sits Izzy’s name and I bite my tongue, cringing.
In years past, the joke vote could get out of hand. People would rag on the person who made it on prom court, stuff stupid things in their lockers, or toilet paper their car if they had one. Juvenile stuff fully intended to belittle the other person.
In the past few years though, the faculty at Woodbridge had taken steps to put a halt to the joke votes. That’s why the students made sure it came across as legit. And no outward hazing was done to either guy or girl on the court, but that didn’t matter. The person who made the court stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the court.
Take the guys on the ballot this year for example. I was this year’s homecoming king, senior class president, and lettered in football for the past three years. Franco Avila lettered in Basketball, Football, and Lacrosse and already signed his letter of intent to go to USC. Other guys had the GPA, good looks, and nice cars. We’re the popular guys. That’s not having an ego; it just is what it is.
Now compare our resume to Sam Patterson. He’s super-smart, but he comes off as a dork. Super thick glasses, he started wearing braces junior year, and he always walks around with not only a loaded backpack but carrying at least three other books. And he’s captain of the chess club and debate team. I hate to judge a book by its cover, but one of these things is not like the others. I’m still not convinced the faculty hasn’t just been turning a blind eye the last couple years, figuring that kids will be kids, because it’s so obvious the guy and girl elected to prom court are there deliberately. And I do feel bad about it, but it’s not like I can change a tradition that’s been going on for twenty years.
“And finally, prom is right around the corner!” Yvette lights up like the fourth of July, a huge grin across her face. “By the end of first period, you’ll all be given your ballots. Remember, out of the ten names for the guys and ten names for the girls, only five from each will be elected. You have all week to vote, so any of you that’d really like to can get out there and campaign. I know there’s one boy I’ll be voting for this year. A president should always wear a crown.”
My mouth drops as she gives me a knowing wink and then looks at the camera, repeating the gesture.
“What the?” I look over at her then at our teacher.
&
nbsp; “Yvette?” Mr. Garrison calls out a warning.
“Okay.” She smiles as if it’s all part of the announcements. “That’s it for the morning announcements. Remember, ballots must be turned in by end of the day, Thursday. And don’t forget this Friday’s pep rally, for our reveal of who made this year’s prom court!”
Her frozen smile stays on the camera, until Kip calls out, “All right, we’re clear.”
“What the hell was that?” I say, my voice a little louder than I intend.
“Language, Mr. Hillard,” Mr. Garrison says, still sitting at his desk.
Yvette gets up from the announcements desk and walks over to her own, which is next to mine. “Oh, Matt, calm down. We all know you’re gonna make court. And I know I’ll be prom queen. I’m campaigning hard for that this year.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And, I know who I want as my king.”
“Yvette, I was already homecoming king. I’m not even campaigning to make court, let alone try and be nominated prom king.”
“Good.” Oscar laughs. “Because I’m gunning for that one, dude.” He tosses a glance towards our teacher, who’s still sitting behind his desk going over papers before we finish with the rest of class. Leaning closer to me from the row over, he quirks an eyebrow. “Imagine the hook-up power I’d have if I was prom king. Yeahya!”
“You can try if you want,” Yvette retorts, sounding a little annoyed. “I’m campaigning for Matt myself, though. So, don’t feel too bad when he adds another crown to his trophy case.”
“Seriously.” I look back at Yvette. “Don’t campaign for me. I don’t care about prom court. I’ve already got enough to do. We’ve already got enough to do with setting up the dance and prom court week stuff.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” She waves me off before grabbing my hand. “Matt, we’re gonna rule prom. I just need to make sure I have the right date.”