by Lori Folkman
Kat had a gift for Ben as well. It was her dad’s Clash shirt. Jackson knew for a fact that she didn’t have permission to give that shirt away. It was like Kat had a penchant for punishment. Along with the shirt was an even more peculiar gift: a strand of hair. Her hair, about six inches long. It was this thin little coil, tied together with a purple ribbon. Jackson knew that it used to be customary for girls to give a lock of hair to their fiancé as they headed off to war—like a hundred years ago. It seemed a rather ardent custom to be trifling with. Jackson really wished that he hadn’t been there to see that exchange, and he could tell that Kat was slightly embarrassed to have to do it in front of Jackson. But what could he do? He was giving Ben a ride back to his parking garage. Jackson suddenly had a great idea to suggest to the CIA—the CIA should torture terrorists by forcing them to watch this gag-inducing display of affection.
So having Ben and Kat grow deeper in their attachment was greatly troubling to Jackson. It meant that this craziness was not going to be ending anytime soon. Which brought up other issues. The most problematic one being that Kat was putting distance between herself and her loved ones. Jackson didn’t think that this was intentional. But she was distracted. And she had time constraints. The result was one little sister who had been crying when Jackson had seen her Monday. Taylor had been sobbing into Darin’s shoulder, saying, “Kat doesn’t ever play with me anymore. She kicked me out of her room so she could talk to Ben.”
Jackson had been dropping off a loaf of his mom’s freshly-baked bread, but he took pity on Taylor and offered to play Barbies with her. Taylor took him up on the offer and barricaded him in her room with piles of Barbie dolls and accessories—how could one girl have so many toys? Kat had walked by the room after Jackson had been there about an hour. Her phone was glued to her ear. She pulled it down for half-a-second and asked him, “What are you doing here?”
His response: “Playing with your sister.” It was heavy with implication, like he was doing the job she should be doing. But she had merely put the phone back to her ear and walked on by. Jackson saw the look of disappointment register on Taylor’s face. He felt guilty and stayed for another hour, and was near the point of insanity by the time he left. Taylor was twice as hyper as Kat had been at that age. His ears were buzzing from that nonstop chatter.
He’d also been around yesterday to see more Katrina-induced pain. This time, Kat’s friend Macey was the recipient. It had happened at lunch time. Jackson, Kat and Macey were the only ones from their original lunch group that still sat together. All the other friends had been “filtered out” by the popular kids who had overrun the table. Even Hannah was gone, and she had been close friends with Kat since freshman year. But obviously Hannah wasn’t ranked high enough on the popularity charts to hang out with Kat’s new group. Macey was fairly popular, but Jackson could see her discomfort increasing as time wore on. He didn’t know if she’d be around that much longer. He didn’t know if he’d be around that much longer. He wouldn’t have made it this long if it hadn’t been for Kat—for his desire to stay close to her.
So yesterday, Macey and Kat had been involved in conversation with each other, and this girl—a cheerleader who wore shirts that looked like they were made to fit one of Taylor’s twelve-inch Barbie dolls—butted herself right in between Macey and Kat. This cheerleader, Courtnie (Jackson wished he didn’t know her name. A month ago he’d had no clue who she was. Now, he not only knew that her name was Courtnie, he also knew that she drank a low-carb shake everyday for lunch and that she had once swallowed a parasitic worm to induce weight loss. And he knew everything that had happened after ingesting the worm. TMI.), had turned her body towards Kat’s, effectively shutting Macey out of the conversation. “Guess who got kicked off the squad? … Lydia!” Obviously Courtnie was too dense to play guessing games. She must not have known that she was supposed to give Kat the chance to answer the question. Which Jackson was actually grateful for: there were at least a dozen girls on the cheerleading squad. It could have taken Kat half-an-hour to guess correctly.
Then Courtnie had told Kat—as well as most of the table, just because Courtnie didn’t have a real quiet voice—how Lydia had shown up drunk to the last game and thought that no one would notice. Strike one. Then she’d mooned the opposing team’s bus as it left the Waldren High parking lot. Strike two. Then, that same night, she’d given her cheerleading uniform to her older sister to wear to a costume party—at some trendy downtown club that was a favorite of the Bunny crowd. The uniform was photographed in some very compromising positions. Strike three. End of Lydia’s cheerleading career.
And the point of all this? Courtnie wanted Kat on the squad. Apparently, the rule book stated that there would have to be an open audition for all juniors and seniors, but—off the book—their cheer instructor had already guaranteed that Kat would get the spot. All she had to do was show up for tryouts.
Kat seemed excited about this. Which was odd, because in days long past, Kat, Jack and Macey—as well as the others who used to sit with them—frequently made fun of the cheerleaders. Kat and Macey always complained about the lack of talent in the cheer squad, and had demeaningly called it the “bod squad.” Because that seemed to be the only requirement to get on the team—to look good in the tiny little uniform. And now Kat was thinking about joining? Not that she’d look bad in the uniform—just that it was beneath her. At least it used to be.
Courtnie had told Kat all the pertinent info about the tryouts and handed Kat a game and practice schedule. Whoa. Jackson could never say that the cheerleaders weren’t committed. They were busy gals.
As soon as Courtnie left the table, Macey had slid back next to Kat and looked at the sheet. “They practice after school Kat. Every day.”
“Yeah. But they’re done by four thirty.”
“But we’re going to practice at four, starting next week.”
Kat had given Macey a blank look.
“For that Mamba piece. You signed up for that number too, remember?
“Oh.” Kat’s face changed from blank to concerned.
Jackson didn’t really know what they were talking about. He just knew that this meant trouble.
“I might just have to … back out of that one. I’m already in four other numbers.”
“Kat. Ms. Stella already ordered costumes. You paid seventy-five bucks for it. Non-refundable. Besides, we need you. We’d be odd numbered without you. It wouldn’t work.”
Kat had blinked a few times, as if her blinking would magically change the times listed on the paper. “But that’s just for a month, Mace. If I got on the squad—it’d be for next year too. Kind of hard to pass up something like this for a one month commitment.”
“You committed to that dance first,” Macey had said, her voice full of disgust. “I can’t believe you’re even thinking of backing out. For cheerleading.”
Macey’s voice had been rather loud, especially considering that at least two cheerleaders were sitting at the table, and another couple at the table behind her. She stood, swept her tray off the table, and stormed away. Kat was left looking bewildered. Jackson was proud of Macey for standing up to Kat. But he was sad for Macey as well. He knew what it felt like to be let down by Kat. Something had to change.
So he’d come up with a plan. He needed to get her alone. Remind her of how things used to be. Try to discreetly point out how off-track she was.
His plan started with an origami envelope he folded especially for her. He used some of his mom’s floral scrapbook paper. The envelope was his best yet—it had this elaborate pinwheel design on the top. It had taken him a good hour last night to perfect it. Inside the envelope was an invitation. It said:
Have lunch with me?
My car, parking lot B.
Jackson slid it through the vent in her locker before school started. She must have liked the invite, because she was all smiles when Jackson saw her during third period. She handed him a note—an origami heart done on college
-ruled paper—that said:
I’d love to!
He felt slightly guilty: she’d probably spent her last class folding that paper instead of doing an assignment. But at least she took the bait.
For the first time ever, Jackson slipped out of class five minutes early. He wanted lunch to be perfect. He unfolded a red checkered tablecloth across his dashboard and set two lunch bags on top. He’d brought a vase from home and filled it with three origami flowers; he set that in the middle of the dashboard. A few crumbs from a cracker of some sort littered the passenger seat; Jackson flicked them away. Everything was perfect. Now all he needed was Kat.
She was ten minutes late. Jackson was starting to sweat by the time she got there, thinking that she’d ditched him. But she practically skipped to the car once she came in sight. “Hey,” she said warmly as she climbed in. Her smile grew larger once she was in her seat and saw the display on the dashboard. “What’s all this?”
“Picnic. Pre-summer style.”
Kat fingered the flowers in the vase. “Cute! Your origami was always so much better than mine.” Then her face fell flat. She looked disgusted. “But your car stinks.”
Yeesh, her too? Ben’s snobbery was rubbing off. Had she seen one of the cool kids and thought she needed to act embarrassed about being in Jackson’s car? “You sound like Ben,” Jackson muttered.
She gave him an elbow in the ribs. “Literally, Jack. Something in your car is stinks. Bad. Like a rotten egg.”
Vlad. His stomach lurched. This was far from perfection. He wouldn’t get Kat’s undivided attention in a stinky car. Jackson began looking around for the source of the smell. He looked under an empty grocery sack on the floor behind her seat. There it was. A diaper. From when? Two days ago? Crap. Literally.
Jackson mumbled something about changing Jared and forgetting to take it to the trash. He wrapped the diaper in the grocery bag and ran to the nearest trash receptacle. He half expected her to be gone when he got back. Not that he’d blame her—that was disgusting. Why hadn’t he taken the time to clean his car last night instead of folding that stupid paper?
She’d rolled her window down by the time her returned. He’d hoped she wouldn’t do that—not because he wanted her to continue to inhale the toxic fumes, but because then they’d lose their privacy. Then again, the parking lot wasn’t all that busy. He might still be safe to clear his chest.
Inside the paper lunch sacks were bologna sandwiches, vanilla crème cookies, juice pouches, and small baggie of craisins. The craisins were slightly stale, but Jackson didn’t think she’d notice. Those things never tasted that good in the first place. And he couldn’t think of anything else edible from the fruit group … besides a fruit-filled pie.
When she pulled out her sandwich, she hesitated before taking a bite. “Has this been in your car—all day?”
He chuckled. “No, I had them in my locker. I was worried about the mayo getting too hot.”
“Oh.” She lifted a corner of the bread, peeking inside. “Bologna? Wow. You still eat that? I don’t think I’ve had bologna since sixth grade.”
Jackson didn’t care that she was making fun of his lunch—because she had always made fun of his food. So this was just like old times. First two targets of this mission accomplished. Up next? Delicately pointing out her errant ways.
“So, you going to the tryouts today?” he asked casually, his mouth full of sandwich.
She shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s cool and all … but I don’t know if I have time for it. Especially once Ben is back in town.”
Wrong. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
Jackson took a big drink from the pouch and successfully collapsed it. He should have packed another one of those. That barely was enough to wash the sandwich down. “You really think you’ll be able to spend that much time with him? He’s gonna be pretty busy for a while.”
Again, the shrug. “We’re gonna try. To spend time together. To make up for him being gone now.”
Her cheeks flared. She quickly turned her head and looked out the window. She’d let her mouth get ahead of her brain, and he knew she was regretting it. He had to jump on this, before she clammed up. “Are you guys … official. I mean, I know that you’re not making it public. But … are you guys … an item?”
She looked at Jackson with cautious eyes. Her lips were pursed; she didn’t say anything, so he urged, “It’s just me, Kat. You know I’m not going to take this to the press.”
Her eyes sparkled and a smile grew across her lips. “Oh my gosh, Jack! It is so awesome! It’s so much more than I ever would have thought possible!” And then blah, blah, blah. She spent the next five minutes telling him about how amazing her relationship with Ben was. How kind and considerate he was. How doting. How affectionate. Oh barf. Not what Jackson had wanted to hear. This was worse than the two hours of Barbie talk he’d suffered through with Taylor.
“Don’t you worry about this, Kat?” he asked hesitantly. “About getting this involved with Ben?”
“What do you mean?”
“It just that … it’s so much more responsibility. Such a deeper level. Do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?”
“I think I have a pretty good idea, Jack. I’ve been dating him for over a month—unofficially. It is … complicated at times. But it’s worth it.”
Great. “But what about all his traveling? It’s almost going to be like a long-distance relationship.” Jackson was really fishing here. He had to come up with something to steer her away.
“I’m not thinking of it that way. I’m just thinking about the times when he is here.”
Why did she always have to be so dang optimistic? Jackson popped a craisin into his mouth, and then promptly spit it out. “Gross.”
“Yeah, they’re stale. I didn’t want to say anything.” She crumpled up the little snack sized baggie and put it in her paper bag, along with a sandwich with only two bites missing. “But the cookies are great,” she said as she separated her second cookie and licked the frosting. “I just need milk.”
He didn’t know if she would be as patient with another attempted attack on her love-life, but Jackson went ahead with it anyway. “More than just … the complications, do you worry about … what this will do to you? How it will change your life. I mean, I can’t imagine this lasting forever with Ben. But how will anything else ever compare? If you’re dating your ultimate dream guy when you’re only sixteen, how will you ever be excited about … anyone else? You might be building a life of misery.”
She didn’t respond: she just kept nibbling at that cookie. Finally, she turned her face toward his. She looked somber. “You trying to depress me?” She raised one corner of her mouth, like she was trying to joke. “I know that it’s not going to last forever. Believe me Jack, I’m being very levelheaded about this. It’s an amazing experience. And that’s all that matters. I’m not worrying about all the particulars.”
Ha. He wanted to laugh out loud. Kat: levelheaded. That was an oxymoron. Plus, she’d contradicted herself. She was being levelheaded, yet she wasn’t worrying about particulars. That was the same as enjoying an afternoon ride in the country while driving a stolen car.
“I’m not trying to depress you. I just want to make sure you know what you are doing. I don’t want … I don’t want you to get hurt.” He worried that saying this would make her mad.
But she didn’t get mad. She gave him a kind smile and said, “Thank you. Really. For caring. But it’s going to be fine. I know what I’m doing.”
The conversation shifted from deep to light: mainly, they discussed which desserts were better when accompanied with whipping cream and which desserts were better plain. The conversation then came to an abrupt halt when the parking lot buzzer sounded. Lunch break was over.
“Thanks, Jack. This was fun,” she said as she climbed out of the car. “Let’s do it again.” She shut the door, but bent in through the open window. “My car next ti
me. And I’ll bring the lunch.”
Jackson watched her trot away. But she only made it about ten steps before she turned on her heel and ran back to the car. This time, she came around to his window and leaned in. “I almost forgot!” she said excitedly. “Courtnie wanted me to ask you out.”
“What?”
“She wants to go out with you. This weekend.”
“Courtnie wants to go out with me?” Why on earth?
“She likes you.”
Preposterous.
He must have pulled a face, because Kat reiterated, “She does, Jack. She thinks you’re cute.”
“Right. She wants to be an actress, Kat.”
“So?”
“So, she thinks that I’ll help her land a role. That’s why she wants to go out with me.”
“No,” Kat looked like she’d never thought of that. “I think she really likes you.”
“Then why didn’t she ask me out before all this happened.”
“I dunno … she didn’t know you then.”
“Exactly.”
Kat’s eyebrows were scrunched. “Don’t be so untrusting. Lots of girls think you’re cute. And I’m sure you’d get asked out more often if you … just show some interest. You’ve got a lot to offer.”
“I do?”
She smiled brightly and gave his arm a shove. “Of course you do. Don’t you know that? You’re a good-looking guy. And you’re smart. And funny. And creative. Come out of your shell a little and you’ll have girls crawling all over you. Just like a rockstar.”
She gave the back of his hair an affectionate little tug before she left. Jackson was a little dazed. But he snapped out of it in time to yell to Kat, “Tell Courtnie no way. No how. I’d rather go out with you and Ben again before I go out with her.”
Kat’s chin lifted, resolute. “Deal.” She shot him a triumphant smile and disappeared behind a car.