“I want to talk to you.” He was wearing that smile that could always make me weak in the knees, but this time it wasn’t affecting me at all.
“Then you come here,” I said.
I thought that might make him mad, since he’s not used to being refused. But he just smiled again and sauntered over.
“I’ve been thinking,” he stretched his words out, like he was creating some big drama, “that the two of us would make a pretty fine couple.”
He sounded very sure of himself, and that just annoyed me more. I said nothing.
“So, what do you think, babe?” He was standing in what I couldn’t help think was a posed stance, with a finger tucked into the belt loops on his jeans and his chest thrust out.
“What do I think about what?”
“About what I just asked you.” His smile was fading fast, and I could see impatience on his face. I guess he’d expected me to swoon and gush that it would be wonderful, or something like that.
“You didn’t ask me anything,” I pointed out. “You just made a comment.”
People were looking and listening. I could feel it, and I knew he could too. He had to turn things around fast or he was going to lose face.
“You want the big question do you?” he forced another smile. “Well, I guess I can do that. So, what do you say about us hooking up?”
“Thanks, Nick,” I answered evenly. My heart was pounding and I didn’t know why. “But no thanks.”
“No?” He looked incredulous. “You have to be kidding.”
“Why would I be kidding? It was nice of you to ask, and I appreciate it, but you’re really not my type.” And then I walked away.
I could hear the buzz of voices behind me, and I have to admit it felt pretty good to know that Nick Jarvis, the great jock, had been turned down right in public and that I was the one who had done it.
Maybe now he’d have some small inkling of how Annie had felt when he and Kelsey had embarrassed her so cruelly. I guess that was stretching it though. Nick wasn’t the type to give much thought to anyone else’s feelings. He might be humiliated, but he’d never make the connection with how he’d made someone else feel.
Betts called me the second I got in the door at home.
“You actually did it!” she almost screamed. “You said no to him. I can’t believe it.”
“I didn’t know you were even there when it happened,” I laughed, remembering what she’d said yesterday and pleased that she’d gotten her wish.
“I was talking to Derek,” she explained. “He is so dreamy! Anyway, we heard the whole thing. Everyone there did. You should have seen Nick’s face when you walked away. He was furious!”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” I said dryly, “the only person Nick is really into is himself. He couldn’t date someone who doesn’t feel the same way about him that he does.”
That made Betts giggle, but it also reminded me of how Greg had once told me that Nick was totally wrong for me. I wondered if he’d been around when I’d refused Nick.
I found myself hoping he had been, although I had no idea why it mattered.
After all, even if I was interested in Greg, which, I hastily reminded myself, I was not, there was no way we would ever end up together now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When I’d finished talking to Betts, I saw that there was a note on the table. It was from Dad, explaining that he and Mom had gone over to Veander, a nearby city, and would be late getting home. I peeked in the fridge, knowing that Mom would have left a plate for my dinner. Sure enough, there was cold chicken and pasta salad waiting for me.
I closed the fridge, not yet hungry, and began wandering through the house in boredom, trying to think of something to do. Then I remembered the pictures I’d been about to look at on Saturday. You know, the pictures I’d set aside so that I could go make a big fool of myself at Greg’s place.
I brought the file upstairs from the darkroom and spread it out on the kitchen table where the light was good.
There were quite a few, and it was fun looking through them. I was surprised to find one of Betts and Greg and me in the middle of our snow fight on Christmas Day. In that shot, Greg was standing behind me to the left, his hand poised with a snowball that he was clearly about to lob at Betts. She was crouched down, laughing, her hands scrunching snow into a ball. I seemed to be yelling something while I brushed a clump of snow off my jacket.
I closed my eyes and tried to recapture the moment in memory. When I looked again, I noticed that even though Greg was aiming at Betts, his eyes were directed at me. There was a smile playing on his mouth, and I could almost read his thoughts. If I was right, he was definitely thinking something nice — about me.
Well, I’d sure put an end to that!
I flipped through more pictures and found that a number had been taken last year at a big picnic the school had organized one Saturday in June.
I noticed Jane standing next to Nick in one shot from the picnic. She’d been after him even then. It was weird that when he’d finally asked her out she never wanted to go anywhere with him. She wasn’t in any of the other pictures taken that day, and I recalled that she’d left early, looking resentful as usual, when her stepfather came by for her.
There were a couple of shots of us around a fire we’d made for cooking hot dogs. Peering closely at the expressions on the faces around the fire, I was struck by the fact that a few of the kids looked almost hypnotized by the flames. I giggled at the sight of Annie, who seemed to be in some sort of deep trance.
It’s neat the way looking through pictures brings back memories, things that you’d never think of again otherwise. It made me realize just how many details we have stored in our brains. You think that little things are gone and that you’ll never find them again, but they’re actually just tucked away, waiting in case you ever need them.
By the time I’d finished looking at the pictures, eaten, and done my homework, I was ready for bed. I was almost asleep when I heard a tap on my bedroom door, and Mom and Dad came in to say goodnight. That was the last thing I remembered that day!
Thursday and Friday passed quickly, and there were definite reactions to the fact that I’d turned Nick down. Some girls were outright admiring and made comments to me about how glad they were that I’d put him in his place. Others were scornful and made no secret of the fact that they thought I was insane for passing up such a hot guy.
None of that mattered much. I knew I’d done the right thing for me. There were a few moments of regret, but they disappeared fast when I reminded myself that he really wasn’t such a great person after all. I think maybe his popularity was partly responsible for him being the way he was: if you’ve gone through school riding on popularity and looks, there’s not all that much incentive to also be nice. Nick had always gotten what he wanted because of the way he looked and his status on the sports teams. When you think about it, those aren’t really very good reasons to admire a person, but they’d worked for him. When it came right down to it, I figure he’d learned to expect certain things because the way everyone treated him had made him feel like it was his due.
It didn’t take long to see that I’d made an enemy for life. Nick made more than one comment about me that wasn’t what you’d call polite, and he sure didn’t worry about keeping his voice down when he did it. The first one I heard caught me off guard, and I was too stunned to react. After all, it wasn’t as if I’d done anything horrible to him. Girls turned guys down all the time, and vice versa. Not many of them felt the need to go around hurling insults because of it.
The next time I heard a nasty remark I was prepared. I walked right up to him and said that I was sorry if I’d hurt his feelings. I made sure my voice was as loud as his.
“As if!” he sneered. “You should have known that the only reason I asked you out was because I felt sorry for you.”
“The way you’re acting now looks more like you feel sorry for yourself,” I retorte
d. “I realize that your pride is hurt, but you don’t have to make it so obvious.”
“Who do you think you are?” he yelled angrily. “You’re nobody, that’s who. A big, fat, ugly nobody.”
“Come on, Nick, let it go. I’m sure there are lots of other girls who’d love to go out with you. And why wouldn’t they? After all, you’re so nice.”
Laughter met my final comment and Nick whirled around in fury, glaring at the gathering crowd.
“Give it up, man. You’re no match for her.”
I was astonished to see that it was Greg who had spoken. Silence descended on the group so fast it was unbelievable. The students were kind of holding their breath, waiting to see what Nick was going to do next. There was no way he could allow a guy to talk to him like that without doing something about it. Sure enough, he turned to face Greg.
“Shut your mouth, pansy boy, or I’ll shut it for you.”
“Be my guest.” Greg smiled evenly. He took a step forward.
“You don’t want to mess with me,” Nick warned menacingly.
“Sure I do.” Greg’s smile got wider. “I’d love to.” He looked as though he meant what he’d said, although I couldn’t picture him in a fight. Nick fought dirty and mean, and no one ever took him on.
And then the most amazing thing happened. Nick backed down! He mumbled that it wasn’t worth getting kicked off the team, turned around, and walked away.
As everyone drifted away, whispering to each other about what had just taken place, I glanced at Greg. For a second he met my eye, but then he looked away and walked off. That gave me the strangest feeling, a hurt that started in the pit of my stomach and spread out all through me.
I wished I could just talk to him, even for a few minutes. I wanted to tell him that I was honestly and truly sorry for last Saturday and to thank him for speaking up to Nick like that. The way he was avoiding me at school, there was no way I was going to get a chance to do it, though. And I sure couldn’t go to his place. It looked hopeless.
It wasn’t until Friday evening, sitting in my room, that a solution popped into my head. What if I went to Broderick’s when he was working on Saturday? It was possible he’d tell me to get lost, but I felt that I had to try.
Satisfied with this plan, I picked up the book his dad had lent me. I was almost finished reading it and had filled half a writing tablet with notes on the subject. My lists of names were there too, but I hadn’t found the time to compare the signs and symptoms in the book with the names.
I wondered what I would do if I found that some of the kids fit the patterns. That might mean they’d been victims of sexual abuse, but it didn’t mean that any of them were guilty of setting the fires. I wasn’t keen on the idea of jumping to any more wrong conclusions!
I went through my notes carefully and separated the symptoms into two categories. Some of them, like nightmares, were things that you’d only know if you were living with the person. That wouldn’t be of much use to me. The other list was the one I would use as a reference and included the things I might be able to figure out.
This is what I had:
Secrecy — because of shame, guilt, embarrassment, or fear of what the person who had hurt them might do if they told
Withdrawal from others, loners (they feel this has never happened to anyone else)
Unable to trust (difficulty forming strong attachments)
Academic problems (performance below abilities)
Depression
Fear or dislike of certain people or places
May not be willing to change clothes in front of others
The book had stressed that lots of people can have some of these things for other reasons. Lots of girls at school don’t like to change in front of anyone in gym class, but that could just be shyness. Most victims showed more than one of the symptoms.
It was clear that even if I identified possible victims, it was by no means going to tell me who the fire setter was.
There had to be other clues, things related to the fires themselves. I had a nagging feeling that there was something right there in front of me, if only I could figure out what it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It had been my intention to go to Broderick’s and talk to Greg first thing after breakfast on Saturday. Whether or not he listened to me and accepted my apology, I figured it would be good to get it over with. Somehow, though, every time I thought about going out the door I came up with a reason to wait. I must have been more nervous than I realized, or maybe part of me was scared. After all, I only had one shot at it, and if he put me off there’d be no second chance.
I’d rehearsed what I was going to say to him a few times in my head, but I knew from experience that was usually a waste of time. There had been lots of times in the past that I’d gotten myself all hyped up and ready to say exactly the right thing about something, and then I’d opened my mouth and it had come out all jumbled and dumb.
That’s almost as bad as when you think of all the things you could have said after something’s already over and done. That happens to me a lot too.
Anyway, by one in the afternoon I had run out of excuses for putting it off, so I tossed on my jacket and headed out. I didn’t exactly rush on the walk over, but even so I seemed to get there in no time.
When I first arrived, Greg was inside talking to Mr. Broderick. He’s a nice old guy who sometimes lets us have car wash fundraisers for school sports teams on one side of the lot. He’d always joke with us, and I think he really liked kids, although he and his wife never had any of their own.
Anyway, as I said, Greg was inside at first, so I stood off to the side and waited. Before long a car drove in, and he came out and tended to the customer. I almost lost my nerve and turned around to leave, but then he happened to look up and saw me standing there.
Well, it was now or never. I took a deep breath and started walking toward him, wondering if he’d even wait around or just go back inside. He waited.
“Hi,” I said when I’d almost reached him.
“Hello,” he said stiffly.
“I’d like to talk to you, if you have a minute.”
“I suppose.” On a scale of one to ten, the enthusiasm in his voice was about zero.
“Look, Greg, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about everything. I made some pretty bad mistakes, but I wish you could believe that I didn’t mean anything personal in what I did.”
“It was a bit personal to find out someone I thought was my friend was only hanging around so she could dig up evidence against me, or whatever it was you were doing.”
“I know that, Greg. I do. And I wish it never happened. It was just that I got carried away with the idea, and I didn’t stop to think things through well enough.”
“Well, just forget it. It doesn’t really matter now.”
“It does matter. You’re a good guy and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” I stood there feeling kind of awkward and not knowing quite what to say next. It was clear that Greg didn’t really want to talk to me.
“Well, you said you were sorry.” He paused. “I don’t suppose that was easy.”
“It was hard to come here and face you, but I had to do it.” My voice was catching because my throat was all dry and tight. “Anyway, I hope you can forgive me.”
“It’s not really a question of forgiving you, Shelby. It’s more a matter of being clear about where things are between us. And I think I’m pretty clear on that. So let’s just say it happened and it’s over and that’s the end of it.” He turned to walk away.
“Wait, there’s something else.” I felt panic rise in me. For some reason, I just couldn’t stand the thought of our conversation ending like that, with things the way they were.
“What?”
“I want to thank you too, for a couple of things. First of all, for not telling everyone at school about it.”
“Why would I do that?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.
�
�Well, to get back at me, I guess.”
He shook his head. “You have a remarkably high opinion of me, don’t you?”
“I didn’t mean...; I just thought...; most people would have talked about it, and, uh...;,” I gave up on what I was trying to say, but he finished my sentence anyway.
“And embarrassed you,” he sighed. “Unlike some people, I’m not in the habit of deliberately hurting my friends.”
“Greg, please! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I felt tears filling my eyes and blinked hard to hide them. I had this crazy thought that I wanted to throw my arms around him and make him understand how I felt. I guess that was the moment that I actually understood it myself.
Greg Taylor was the nicest guy I’d ever known. He was smart and funny and decent. I burned with shame to think that I’d missed seeing all of those things until it was too late, and all because I had this big crush on a total jerk like Nick.
“Okay, okay,” he looked alarmed, and I knew he could see I was fighting tears. “I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t called for.”
“And I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me with Nick.” There! I’d said everything I came to say. All I wanted to do now was go home and cry and get it all out of my system.
“You didn’t need any help, girl,” he smiled, and I could tell he was picturing the scene again. “You were doing just fine on your own.”
“Even so, it was really nice of you.”
A car pulled in to the pumps just then, and Greg nodded towards it.
“I have to go,” he said, but the door of the gas bar opened and Mr. Broderick came out.
“I’ll get them,” he called to Greg. “You finish talking to your little friend.”
“Well, I guess that’s all I had to say anyway, except maybe that everyone was amazed that you were ready to take Nick on.”
“You mean in a fight?” he asked. When I nodded he laughed, “I didn’t think it was going to come to that. At least, I hoped it wasn’t. I’m not much for fighting.”
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