Somehow we made it through lunch without any hair pulling or even name calling, but my stomach felt like it was tied up in a hundred knots by the time I dumped my tray of mostly uneaten food. I was thinking if stress doesn’t kill you, I suppose it might at least help you lose weight.
After school, before cheerleading practice, I asked Shawna if I could talk to her privately in the parking lot.
Her eyes narrowed. “What? Are you going to try to beat me up out there or something?”
I laughed. “Yeah, you bet, Shawna.” Like 90 percent of the other girls, she’s several inches taller than me.
Anyway, I think curiosity got the best of her and she actually agreed to come out to my car with me.
“I have something for you,” I told her as we approached my old VW Bug. “It’ll probably seem kind of lame, but maybe you could just consider it my peace offering. You know, my way of showing you that I’m really and truly sorry for hurting you.” I unlocked my car and pulled out the bag. “Here.”
She looked in the bag and then back at me. “Are you serious?”
I nodded.
“Wow.”
I felt hope surge through me. “Do you like them?”
“Of course. But are you sure?”
“Yes. Like I said, it’s my way of saying sorry.”
She almost smiled. “Well, thanks.”
I wish we could’ve hugged or something spectacular like that. But at least she accepted my little offering, and I think we’re on the road to recovery now. I have to admit it wasn’t easy letting those Beatles albums go like that, but if it helps to mend things with Shawna, it’s worth it.
I told Timothy about it when he called me tonight, and he thought I was totally crazy.
“You gave Shawna your Beatles albums?” he said for the second time, sounding like I’d given her one of my kidneys or something.
“I just wanted to do something to help us all move on, and I knew how much she liked them.”
“Hey, I’d have liked them too.”
I laughed. “Well, sorry, Tim. But I guess it’s partly your fault that I had to make that kind of sacrifice.”
“You mean because I couldn’t stay away from you?” I could hear the smile in his voice now. Even over the phone I get this warm rush when he talks like that. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like this. I mean, I’ve had other boyfriends, but it always felt more like a game to me. This feels serious, like Timothy is The One. Now, I know that sounds pretty lame since I’m only sixteen. And I’d never admit it to anyone, not yet anyway, but I could imagine spending the rest of my life with this guy.
“Yeah,” I said. “Shawna told me she wouldn’t have been so mad if we hadn’t gotten together so soon after the breakup.”
“Don’t be so sure,” he said. “Knowing Shawna, we could’ve waited a whole month before we started dating and she still would’ve been furious. She’s kind of possessive like that.”
“Well, I think the worst is over now.”
And I really do. I even think that Shawna and I might actually be able to become friends again. Anyway, I hope so. And I’m willing to go out of my way to try. Because, despite everything that’s gone on, I really do like Shawna, and I’d love to have her as my best friend again. If we can only get past this Timothy thing. I’m thinking this could all really improve if she’d just start dating someone else. Now who could the lucky guy be? I think I’ll start making a list of possibilities.
three
WELL, CHALK ONE UP FOR MOM. SHE WAS RIGHT ON ABOUT THE KINDNESS thing. Shawna Frye has not only forgiven me but we’ve actually been hanging together all week too. She even gave me a ride to the game last night, although I did ride home with Timothy.
“I don’t see why you guys have to be best buddies now,” he complained after I told him I couldn’t go out with him Saturday.
“It’s important,” I tried to explain. “Shawna and I still have stuff to work through. Having her spend the night will help us to, you know, sort of heal our relationship.”
He groaned. “Man, you sound like one of those daytime pop-psychology dudes, Jordan.”
“Sorry, Tim, but just wait and see. It’ll be worth it when Shawna and I are completely beyond this. Everyone will be able to get on with their lives without all the drama and stress.”
He laughed. “Yeah, maybe you two will become best friends again and then we can become a happy little threesome.”
“Real funny.”
Now, I know he was just joking, but I have to admit that “threesome” image sent a chill down my spine. Suddenly I was wondering if this make-everything-cool-with-Shawna idea was getting a little out of hand. I would have to get a move on and find her another boyfriend. Soon. But then she came over on Saturday and we just hung out and basically had a great time together, just like we used to do before the Harvest Dance. And I realized that, as hard as it was, accomplishing this was probably worth putting Timothy off for one night.
I tried to explain all that to him on Sunday, and fortunately he seemed to understand. And we actually had a really great time. We went to a movie that turned out to be pretty good and then got a bite to eat and everything was cool. It only started to unravel on the way home. It was getting late and I’d told him that I had to be home by ten since it was a school night. My parents are pretty old-fashioned about curfews, and I know that if I break mine I will suffer, as in I won’t be able to go out for a week, maybe two, depending on how late I am. And since I like having my little bit of freedom, I try to make it home on time.
But that wasn’t the only problem. Okay, let me explain. Timothy is, shall we say, romantic. Oh, maybe that’s not the right word. Maybe he’s just very physical. Anyway, he really likes to make out. Now, to be perfectly honest, this is kind of new territory for me. I mean, I’ve kissed boys before. I actually had my first kiss when I was only thirteen, and really it wasn’t any big deal. And like I said, I’ve had a few boyfriends, but never anything you could call serious. Although we’d hold hands and kiss, that was about it. Not that I’m a prude. At least I don’t think I am. But for some reason I’ve gotten this idea that you really shouldn’t go too far. Kara Hendricks and I used to talk about this a lot back when we were best friends. We both felt like guys wouldn’t respect us if we went too far. But more than that, we both agreed that we wouldn’t respect ourselves either.
Anyway, on the way home, Timothy decided to stop at the park. “Just to walk around and get some fresh air,” he said.
“It’ll have to be a quick walk,” I told him, since it was already close to ten.
Well, the moon was out and everything seemed pretty romantic, and I was actually enjoying myself. We were just walking along, holding hands and doing a little bit of smooching here and there, and suddenly—like, what hit me?—we were just really going at it. I mean, his mouth was all over my mouth and it was like we were just starving for each other.
And somehow Timothy had me pushed up against the trunk of a tree. Not in an aggressive way though. Just really, really passionately. And to be honest, I was getting into it too. I liked the feeling of his body pressed against mine. It was exciting and I could feel those hormones rushing through me. Okay, I wasn’t exactly thinking “hormones” at the time. I was more like thinking, Oh, man, oh, man! But suddenly I remembered what time it was. Plus I was feeling, shall we say, a bit overwhelmed. I kind of pushed him away (no easy task since he’s about a foot taller than I am) and, catching my breath, told him, “Timothy, I have to get home. Now!”
“Oh, baby,” he moaned in that deep voice that literally gives me goose bumps. “Don’t do this to me.”
“I’m sorry, Tim, but seriously, I’ll get grounded if I’m not home by ten.”
“Grounded?” He sounded kind of irritated now. “You gotta be kidding.”
“Yeah. I know it probably sounds lame to you since you’re a senior and probably get to do whatever you want. But remember, I’m still a sophomore and my parents are dete
rmined to keep me under their thumbs.”
I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back onto the path. “Come on, let’s go.”
He was pretty quiet on the short drive to my house, and I could tell something was bugging him. Then he parked his car, turned off the ignition, and looked at me.
“Hey, I’m sorry, Jordan,” he said in a quiet voice. “I guess I was kind of a jerk tonight.”
“That’s okay,” I told him, reaching for the door handle.
“No, it’s not.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Really, I’m sorry.”
Then he walked me to the front door, and it felt like things were pretty much back to normal when we said goodnight. Now, if only my parents weren’t sitting in there watching the clock.
“How was the movie?” asked my dad as he looked up from his book, which as usual was a thriller. My dad works for the city and I suppose he reads thrillers to break up the boredom.
“Okay,” I told him, relieved that he hadn’t mentioned my curfew. Then, suddenly, I felt self-conscious, as if he somehow knew what Timothy and I had just been doing in the park. And maybe he did. I mean, he used to be a teenager once himself, like a long, long time ago. But somehow I still find this hard to believe. Just the same, I decided to avoid the chance that he might start some kind of inquisition.
“How was your date, Jordan?” my mom called from the kitchen. I went in there and found her at the big oak table, paintbrush in hand as she peered down at a nearly finished painting.
“It was pretty good,” I told her as I searched the interior of the fridge for something to eat. As usual, there was nothing terribly spectacular in there, so I settled for an apple.
“That looks nice,” I told her as I looked over her shoulder at the painting. As I’d predicted, it was the fall flowers in the milk can.
“How’s Timothy?” she asked as she set down her paintbrush and turned to look at me.
“Okay.” I took a bite of my apple and attempted to look nonchalant.
“You know he’s a lot older than you, Jordan.”
“Just two years, Mom.”
“I know, but that’s a lot at this stage of your life.”
I frowned at her. “Dad’s like five years older than you.”
She smiled. “But those are dad years. That’s different.”
I took another bite of my apple, slowly chewed, and then said, “So, what are you getting at?”
“Just that I don’t want to see you getting in over your head.”
“Over my head?”
“With Timothy.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Oh, Jordan, you know what I mean. I don’t want you getting so involved that you get hurt.”
“How would I get hurt?” I was starting to feel slightly defensive now. “If you’re really that worried about his age, Mom, well, think about this: Timothy’s a lot more mature than boys my age. I mean, Timothy really cares about me. It’s not like he’s going to do anything to hurt me.”
“Well, I hope not.” Mom smiled. “And I want you to feel free to talk to me about this, Jordan. If there’s anything I can do to help you, or if you have—”
“I’ve got homework,” I told her quickly. I sensed we were about to go into the sex-talk arena again. And believe me, I did not need to go there tonight—at least not with a parental unit leading the discussion. I mean, I do love my mom, but sometimes she just doesn’t get it. She thinks everything is about sex and “just saying no.” But really, it’s not that simple. Ask anyone.
I went up to my room and tried to do my homework, but my mind just kept wandering. I really did want to talk to someone about what happened with Timothy tonight. It’s not like it was that upsetting or anything, but I just wanted a sounding board. I realized that I obviously couldn’t call Shawna. I mean, how tacky would that be? I considered my other friends, like Ashley or Amber or even Jenny, but then realized I just don’t feel that close to them yet.
I considered my old (or is it ex?) best friend, Kara Hendricks. We were still close when school started this year, and then she sort of pulled away when I made cheerleader. I tried to bring her into my new circle of friends, but it was like she just couldn’t handle it. We drifted apart. But I have to admit, I still miss her sometimes. She was always a great listener and I knew she cared about me—not because of who I was or who I hung with, but simply because we’d been friends for like forever. I wondered if it would be totally lame to call her now. I mean, after all, it was past ten thirty, and she and I had barely spoken in weeks. But then I wondered, why not? What could she do now that she’s turned into this flaming Christian Jesus freak? She has to be nice, right? And so, without having to look it up, since I still know it by heart, I dialed her number.
“Sorry to call so late,” I told her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. I just need to talk. Do you mind?”
“No, that’s okay. I’m the only one still up. I was just watching this news show about how this guy in Vermont, who’d been adopted at birth, accidentally married his birth sister.”
“Gross.” I shuddered.
“Yeah, tell me about it. So, what’s up, Jordan?”
I could hear the curiosity in her voice, like she was trying to figure out why I was suddenly calling her up right out of the blue. “Well,” I began, “I went out with Timothy tonight.”
“And?”
“Well, we were having a really good time and we stopped by the park—”
“To make out?”
“Well . . .”
“And?”
“Yeah, we were making out. And, Kara, it was so cool. I mean, I have never felt like that before. It’s like I’m on fire when he touches me, and my head literally starts to spin.”
“Kind of like that girl in the old Exorcist movie?”
“Very funny.”
“Sorry, go ahead.”
“Anyway, it’s like Timothy would probably just keep going, you know? I mean, like I can tell he really wants more.”
“And what do you want?”
“Well, I don’t know. I guess that’s why I feel sort of confused. I mean, I do want more. But then I think maybe it’s not right. And . . . oh, I don’t know, I just really needed to talk to someone.”
“Uh-huh.”
I could hear this crunching noise. “Are you eating something?” I asked her.
“Just some stale Cheese Nips that Bree left out on the coffee table. They’re pretty pathetic really.”
“Oh. So, what do you think, Kara?”
“About you and Timothy having sex?”
“Sheesh. You don’t exactly beat around the bush, do you?”
She laughed. “Well, isn’t that what you’re talking about?”
“I guess.”
“Okay, this is what I think: I think I wouldn’t want to have sex with a guy that I’d only been going with for a couple of weeks. For that matter, I might not want to have sex with anyone that I wasn’t married to.”
“Really? You honestly believe you’ll wait that long, Kara?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve been getting lots of offers lately.”
“But seriously, do you really think you could wait until your wedding day?”
“Maybe.”
“Is it because you’re a Christian now?”
“Maybe. I still have a lot of things to sort out, Jordan. But I think Jesus says to take it one day at a time. And fortunately I don’t have to make any sex decisions today.”
“Well, I don’t either. I just wanted someone to talk to. And you’ve always been a good listener.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve patched things up with Shawna.”
“Yeah, I noticed you two were hanging out last week. That’s good to hear, Jordan.”
“She says that she’s over Timothy now, but it’s hard to tell if she really means it.”
“Do you think you could get over him that easily?”
>
I was stumped. Could I?
“I mean, you’ve only been going with him a couple of weeks, Jordan, and here you are, ready to jump into bed with him.”
“I’m not going to jump into bed with him!”
“Well, you know what I mean. Do you think you’d get over him as quickly as Shawna did?”
“I don’t know. The truth is, I think I like him more than Shawna ever did.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I never told you because I knew it would sound so lame, but I had a crush on him for most of last year.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. And I can tell he has really deep feelings for me too.”
“After only a couple of weeks?”
“Yeah. It’s like we’re meant to be. It’s hard to explain, but it just feels so amazing when I’m with him.”
“You mean horny?”
I rolled my eyes. Maybe this call had been a bad idea. “ Nooooo. It’s more than that, Kara. Maybe you’d understand if you had a serious boyfriend.”
Kara didn’t respond, and suddenly I wondered if I’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry, Kara. That was really low. Are you still hanging out with that kid from art class? What’s his name?”
“Edgar?”
“Yeah. What a weird name.”
“Did you know his full name is Edgar Allen Peebles? His mom’s name was Raven, like in that Edgar Allen Poe story.”
“I’m sorry, Kara, but that is just too weird.”
Kara laughed. “I think it’s kind of cool. But for your information, Edgar and I are just really good friends. And that’s good enough for me. In fact, I’m thinking if I ever were to get serious with a guy, I’d rather we were just good friends first.”
“I don’t think that’s even possible, Kara.”
“Anything’s possible with God.”
“Oh, brother.” And on that note, I decided to bring this dead-end conversation to a halt. I can’t believe I went looking for love advice from Kara. She may be sweet and actually pretty smart, but believe me, that girl is totally clueless when it comes to guys.
four
Deep Green: Color Me Jealous with Bonus Content Page 2