With my expectations adjusted, I prepare to start my day. Mom can give me a ride to school on her way to work, but I’ll have to walk home. That’s perfectly fine with me. Hopefully I’ll run into Hunter.
Mom’s frowning lightly as she waits by the door, keys in hand. “Hey, that’s a snazzy jacket. Where did it come from?”
“My genie.”
“Ah. What did I tell you about wishing for clothes? Dream bigger, kid.”
I flash her a smile and head out the door, adjusting my backpack strap over one shoulder as I head for the car.
Mom locks up behind me and follows me out. “Seriously, though. Where did you get the jacket?”
I sigh, walking around to the passenger side door and pulling it open. I shouldn’t have worn the jacket. When I got home from the mall, Mom asked to see what I bought—not to check up on me, she just likes shopping and was excited to see what I picked up at the “awesome sales” I mentioned to explain how I had two bags full of stuff when she sent me to the store with only $20. I managed to get out of showing her, and I hoped she just wouldn’t notice when I started peppering the items Venus bought me into my regular wardrobe.
The jacket is too obvious, though.
“I don’t remember which store it was,” I tell her, shoving my backpack into the space between my legs in the floorboard. “It’s not very warm, but it’s just a little chilly today, so I thought I might as well take it for a spin.”
She’s still frowning, looking me over as she drops into the passenger seat. “You managed to get this and something else in the other bag? And you bought food? Do you actually have a genie? If so, can you pass the lamp to me when you’re done with it?”
“I didn’t pay for my food,” I explain. “I was going to, but—” The prospect of mentioning his name trips me up, and I pause awkwardly before admitting, “Hunter bought my dinner. He was in line ahead of me and he got the same thing, so he just… paid for both orders.”
Mom gets that look on her face like I’m talking about having a tea party with the antichrist yet again. “Ah. Good old Hunter.”
“I really don’t understand what you have against him,” I tell her as I fasten my seatbelt. “I wish you’d give him a chance. I honestly believe you’d like him if you did.”
“I’m not not giving him a chance.”
“You hate him for no reason,” I state, cocking an eyebrow at her.
“I do not hate him. You’re putting words in my mouth,” she says, watching in the rear-view mirror, then looking over her shoulder as she backs out of the driveway. “I just think you’re too young for a Hunter, that’s all. I was prepared for all this to start in a couple years—I’ve ordered the blueprints for the tower I’m going to have built in the back yard and everything. But now here you are, liking a boy before I’m ready. It’s so rude.”
I crack a smile. “A tower, huh?”
“The brick and mortar is already stashed in the garage. I got a good deal buying bulk.”
“I guess I better start growing my hair out then,” I tell her.
“Nope. That won’t work. I’m going to cut your hair every six weeks to make sure no stupid boys can climb it and thwart my crafty thinking.” She taps her temple. “See? I’ve thought of everything.”
I shake my head at her, turning my attention to watch out the window. I still think she’s being close-minded about Hunter, but I’m glad we’re not fighting over him this time. My mom has always been my rock, and there’s nothing worse than being in a fight with her.
_______________
After a long day of not seeing Hunter, I finally spot him in the cafeteria. He’s not looking my way and we don’t get a chance to talk, but I just like being near him. Sara talks my ear off about going to the mall with them this weekend, and even though Wally hasn’t paid her any attention either, she is not discouraged.
We go outside for recess and Sara takes a break from her Wally chatter to admire my new jacket. I told my mom it was faux leather, but it’s the real thing—black and slim cut. I feel really pretty in it, and it reminds me of what Hunter’s mom said about makeup. I haven’t worn any of the stuff she bought me yet. I did slather on some moisturizer after my shower this morning, but I thought my mom might notice if I put on mascara.
Our post-lunch break passes quickly and then it’s back to class. The rest of the school day drags and then it’s finally time to go home. I look around for Hunter as I’m making my way toward the woods, but I don’t see him.
I’m just a little past the bridge when my phone vibrates in my pocket. When I draw it out, I see a message from an unknown number on the screen.
“What are you doing tonight?”
I scowl at the screen and type back, “Who is this?”
I can almost sense the casual impatience in the response. “Who do you think it is?”
“Someone who’s about to be blocked?” I shoot back.
“You like me, so that would be unfortunate. How about I give you clues?”
“How about you tell me who gave you my number?”
“It was Sara,” he answers.
A grin splits my face. “Hunter.”
“Damn, you got that one fast.”
“That dirty rat, giving out my number to sketchy dudes.”
“Right?” he shoots back. “Don’t worry though, I told her not to hand it out to any OTHER sketchy dudes, so I’m the only one you have to worry about.”
Every step I take feels a little lighter now that I’m texting him.
“Back to my original question,” he types. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Homework and then watching movies with my mom,” I answer. “What about you?”
“Lame. Can’t you blow off your mom?”
“No?” I quickly add, “Why, did you have another idea?”
“You owe me a movie,” he states.
“Oh, do I?” I ask, barely able to contain my pleasure that he wants to go to a movie with me.
“Yep. My mom’s going out with the asshole tonight, so I thought maybe we could grab some food and see a movie.”
I would consider blowing off my mom for that, but I’m 90% sure she won’t go for it. “The problem with that plan is that if I told my mom about it, she would insist it sounds like a date.”
“It would sound like a date because it would be a date,” he informs me.
My heart just about rockets out of my chest. I stop walking in the middle of the dirt path and barely fight the urge to squeal so I can type back, but my fingers are shaking now with excitement. “The problem with that is my mom won’t let me date. She thinks I’m too young.”
“I see,” he texts back. “Well, in that case, it’s definitely not a date. Tell her I’m an idiot and you have to help me study. Tell her we’ll be at my house.”
“Lie to my mom?”
“You’re killing me, Bishop. We’ve gotta find a way to get that halo off your head.”
“I do not have a halo on my head, but I can’t lie to my mom. I’ve already bent the truth enough after that shopping spree your mom took me on.”
“Ok, new plan,” he says. “What time does your mom usually go to bed? Maybe you can sneak out and we can watch a movie at my place instead. My mom won’t care what time it is. We hang out on different levels more often than not anyway, so we won’t keep anyone awake.”
“I can’t sneak out of my house!”
“Not with that attitude you can’t,” he shoots back. “It’s not technically lying. What are the chances she will ever ask you what you did tonight after you both went to bed? See? This can work.”
“You’re a bad influence,” I tell him, despite smiling so much my face is beginning to ache. “I’m going to block you just for being a deviant.”
“Do it, I’ll just show up at your house. Your mom will really be happy then.”
I snort with laughter, grinning at my phone as I text back. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Watch me.”
/> He probably would, so I text back, “All right, I’ll back down this time. I want my mom to like you, and if you showed up on my doorstep because I blocked your number she would definitely think you’re a psycho.”
“So when we meet, I SHOULDN’T tell her about my nighttime hobby of peeking in your bedroom window. Got it.”
“Creep,” I answer.
“Your creep,” he sends back.
I nearly drop my phone. My heart skitters. I want to respond so he doesn’t think he spooked me, but I don’t know what to say. I’m elated—definitely not spooked.
Fortunately, Hunter has enough self-confidence that he does not doubt my interest just because he struck me momentarily speechless.
“Movie. You. Me. Tonight. How are we doing this?”
I have no idea, but while I may have started this conversation thinking a movie definitely wasn’t in the cards for us tonight, now I want it more than air.
Hunter called himself mine.
Maybe he was joking, but even if he was… you don’t just tell a joke like that if you’re not seriously into someone, right?
“Let me talk to my mom when I get home and figure it out,” I text back, finally breaking my silence. “I’ll text you in a bit with a better answer.”
“I’m looking for ‘yes,’ so just assume I’m going to talk you out of all your excuses until you land there.”
I roll my eyes indulgently even though he can’t see me. “I’m already looking for a way to give you a yes, don’t worry.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he answers.
I sigh with pleasure, sliding my phone back into my pocket and resuming my walk home. Everything that just happened has thrown me so off balance, but in the best way possible. I was floored that Hunter even had my phone number and he opened the door to being able to talk to him whenever I want, but to ask me on a date and then talk like we’re already together? I may not be an angel, but I’m definitely in heaven.
My mind races with possible scenarios as I make my way home. First, I run through all the ones that don’t involve lying to my mom, but none of those end in a sneaky date with Hunter tonight. I don’t agree with him that a premeditated deception that doesn’t require vocally lying is any less shady than outright lying, but I already know my mom’s stance on me dating, and I know it won’t change for Hunter, who she has already decided she doesn’t like. I’ll find a way around that in time, but I’m not a miracle worker; I can’t pull it off tonight.
If I want to see him tonight, I’ll have to be sneaky.
That gnawing feeling threatens to flood my stomach with guilt just thinking about it, but I push out the guilt and replace it with excitement. Mom’s arbitrary rule about me not dating yet isn’t reasonable, so is it really that bad to find a way around an unfair rule? I like Hunter and he likes me. How old we are shouldn’t matter.
By the time Mom gets home, I have a plan. I’ve already called Sara and clued her in so she’ll be my alibi in case my mom calls to verify, but I’m going to tell Mom Sara wants to hang out. Sara doesn’t live far away so she’ll probably let me walk there, but even if she doesn’t, I have a backup plan. I will go in and pretend I’m gonna stay, but very quickly I will develop a stomachache or headache or some kind of ache and decide to go back home. I’ll insist on walking—fresh air will help my ailment—and instead of walking to my house, I’ll walk right past it, cut through the woods, and meet Hunter at his house.
I’m pretty sure it will work as long as I don’t crack under pressure, but as soon as I hear my mom pull in the driveway, my stomach begins gymnastics training for the winter Olympics.
Since I’m anxious, I’m fidgety when Mom comes in. She tosses her keys in her purse and drops it on the table just inside the doorway, then she walks over to the couch, flings herself down dramatically, and sprawls out.
“I am exhausted. Being an adult is terrible.”
I crack a smile. “Long day?”
“Literally everyone I work with took stupid pills today—and not their normal dose, either. These were extra strength stupid pills.”
I walk around the couch and take a much less dramatic seat beside her. “I’m sorry.”
“I need an infusion of joy—and a personal chef, ’cause Momma ain’t cookin’ tonight.” She sighs, sinking even deeper into the couch. “Why didn’t I marry rich and become a trophy wife?”
“You’re too picky,” I point out. “Trophy wives might get bank accounts full of money to play with, but they can’t usually be as selective as you are.”
“That is true. Damn my standards!”
I get a little less comfortable knowing I’m about to lie, but I don’t keep my gaze averted for long so she doesn’t get suspicious. “Well, in that case I have good news.”
“You learned how to cook while I was at work today?”
“No, but you don’t have to feed me, after all. Sara asked if I could come over. I know we were supposed to veg out and watch TV tonight, but I have a science test coming up that I’m super not ready for. Since Sara is so good at science, I was hoping it would be okay with you if I went over so she could help me study.”
“Aw, man. I was looking forward to bingeing bad movies with you.”
“I know, me too,” I say, and I mean it. My stomach twists into so many knots, I start reflexively doubting my decision.
I mentally review Hunter’s playful texts from earlier to renew my dedication to my cause. I want to go out with him. Maybe Mom thinks I’m too young, but I don’t, and it’s not her life.
“But school comes first,” Mom says, nodding and not even questioning our change of plans. And why would she? She’s always been able to trust me before.
Before Hunter.
My mood threatens to sink again, doubts about her being right fighting to the surface, but I shove them down.
“So, I can go?”
“Yeah. Now I don’t have to be a responsible adult and make dinner, I can just have a bowl of cereal in my PJs. What time do you need me to take you so I can mentally prepare for standing again?”
I shake my head. “Cool, I’ll text her and see what time she wants me to come. You don’t have to take me. I’ll just walk over.”
“You sure?”
I nod, standing up and making my way back to the kitchen. I need privacy to text Hunter because I have a feeling it would only take one look at my face and my mom would know it’s not Sara I’m talking to.
“The ‘yes’ is secured. I repeat, the ‘yes’ is secured,” I text him. “What time/where should we meet up?”
My heart pounds as I stare at the screen and wait for him to read my message and respond. It only takes a few heartbeats, then he answers back, “I knew you could be devious” with a winking emoji.
“Don’t say that, I’ll back out,” I joke.
“Let’s meet on the bridge, then we’ll walk to the movie theater.”
My brow furrows in mild confusion. “I thought we were going to watch a movie at your house?”
“We can if you want. I thought you might be more comfortable going out.”
“More comfortable?” I question.
“You, me, alone in my house. It’s dark. The movie’s probably scary… maybe you should come a little closer.”
My eyes widen and I type back. “Movie theater—good call. What time?”
“How’s 7?”
I flick a glance at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen. “Works for me. We won’t have time to eat first though. I don’t have a curfew, but I told my mom I’m studying at Sara’s so I have to be home before ten.”
“Not ideal, but doable. We can get hot dogs and nachos at the theater,” he sends back. “Next time we make a secret date, we should start planning earlier so we have more time.”
Next time. We haven’t even gone on a first date yet and he’s already assuming there will be a second. I want to play it cool and flirt back about how cocky he is to assume I’ll even go out with him agai
n, but I’m too excited.
I feel floaty again as I head to my bedroom to get ready for my first date. I hate that my mom doesn’t know about it, though. I always imagined her sitting on my bed helping me pick an outfit the night of my first date. Like Hunter pointed out, I’m not super fashionable, so I would’ve felt a little more confident with her input.
This is how it has to be for now, though. Once she gets to know Hunter, maybe she’ll bend on her no dating rule. We can have a do-over first date that she can help me get ready for.
It still won’t be the same, though. It’ll just be another lie I have to tell to be with Hunter.
For a moment, that reality bums me out, but I shove it away and continue getting ready. I keep it casual with the black leggings Hunter’s mom bought me and one of the tops. I survey myself in the mirror, smoothing down my hair and frowning. I don’t like my hair, so I put it up in a high ponytail instead, then I carefully pull a few tendrils down on each side of my face.
I’m satisfied with my appearance, but I think I could do a little better.
I look over at my closet door. The purse I had with me at the mall is hanging there, so I go over and grab it, fishing around for the tube of mascara Hunter’s mom bought me. After locating it, I go back to the mirror and carefully apply a coat.
I smile at my reflection, imagining several different scenarios of Hunter reacting when he sees me. They’re all good, and I’m so happy I could ride a cloud to the bridge.
Once I’m ready, I slide my stylish new jacket on, completing the look, and head out the door.
I’m full of nervous energy for the first two minutes of my walk. I get lost in daydreams after that. I think about what movie we’ll see, but I don’t even care about that. It’s the little things. Will he hold my hand? Will he give me a tight, lingering hug at the end before I go home? Will he kiss me?
My imagination is brimming with possibilities.
I left a few minutes early, so I get to the bridge a few minutes early, too. I’m just in time to see the sunset through the trees. I sit down on the bridge and dangle my feet over the edge like Hunter did that first day we talked.
Bully Me: Class of 2020 Page 38