Not Like I'm Jealous or Anything

by Marissa Walsh

  There was a brief burst of laughter and applause, along with a ripple of people saying, “What did she say?” and “What happened?” and others quickly explaining it. She’d been speaking in a quiet voice.

  Tym straightened her shoulders when she heard the applause, and you could see a tiny smile.

  “All right.” Mr. Kershaw relaxed into the chair, and put the microphone back to his mouth. "All right, Tym, have it your way. But you’re not getting out of this. What do we have here? Pens! It’s another easy one. I’m sure you’ve used them to write before, and now you just have to talk about them! Ready for the countdown? Everyone, here’s Tym Montagne and pens. Ten, nine, eight, seven . . . ”

  Tym reached out, took the microphone out of his hand, and held it to her mouth. "Pens,” she announced. There was an outbreak of relieved applause.

  Then she looked around, and uneasiness returned.

  She headed back to the row of teachers, while Kershaw called, "Okay, Tym, let’s hear it,” from his chair. But she ignored him, reached out to a clipboard that was sitting on a teacher’s lap, and slid the pen from under the clip. She moved back to Kershaw’s seat, pressed the pen above his ear, and spoke into the microphone: “A pen is often placed behind a nerdy person’s ear.”

  There was more clapping and laughing, as Mr. Kershaw tried to smile with the pen behind his ear. Some of the teachers on the stage smiled, and Mr. Bayley laughed out loud.

  “Actually,” said Tym, retrieving the pen. “The ear can be useful for many things besides holding pens. You can use it to hold your hair back.” With the pen, she pushed Mr. Kershaw’s hair behind his ear. “Or to carry your ear-rings.” She poked the pen at the places on his ear where earrings might be.

  Kershaw started to look annoyed, but he tried to laugh along.

  “The part of the ear which we see,” she said, jabbing the pen at his ear again, “is called the pinna. But you’ll be surprised to hear that there are things going on inside Mr. Kershaw’s head.”

  The audience shouted with laughter while she knocked on his head with her knuckles, a serious expression on her face. Even the teachers were laughing.

  “You’ve got an ear canal leading to an eardrum,” she continued, drumming the microphone on his head, “which you find in the middle ear, along with three tiny bones. They’re the smallest bones in your body—smaller than the arm bone.” She jabbed the pen at his arm. “Smaller than the leg bone.” She gently kicked his leg. “Smaller than—but you get the picture. And then there’s the inner ear, where you’ve got the cochlea and the Eustachian tube, which runs down to the nose.”

  She tapped him on the nose, three times, hard, with the pen.

  Mr. Kershaw cleared his throat and frowned. Tym was looking around again. Now she took the soccer ball from Mr. Bayley’s lap. She threw it to Mr. Kershaw. He fumbled but managed to hold on to it.

  “The cochlea,” she said, gazing at him sternly, “looks nothing like that soccer ball, Mr. Kershaw. It looks like a snail!”

  People had been laughing all along, but for some reason this made them hysterical.

  Over the noise, Tym continued: “Before you can hear something, a noise has to be loud enough. It has to cross the threshold of hearing. But if a sound is really loud, it can break the tiny bones in your ears.”

  She took the soccer ball from Kershaw’s lap, returned it to Mr. Bayley, and picked up Bayley’s coaching megaphone from the floor by his feet.

  “Loud sounds can cross the threshold of pain. Last week, we found out that Mr. Kershaw has a low threshold of hearing. Let’s test his threshold of pain!”

  And she pressed the megaphone up to his ear and shouted: “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!”

  His mouth fell open, he ducked away, and she ducked to keep up with him. The entire school was shrieking with laughter, and Tym kept shouting, while Mr. Kershaw tried to escape.

  I looked over at Nero, leaning against the window as usual, and he was looking right at me. He was shaking his head and grinning. And suddenly a question jumped into my head: did Nero ask if he could help my sister because he wanted to be my friend? And after the assembly, would we talk about Tym, kind of like parents being proud, and would I say, “Turned out she didn’t need your help,” and would he say, “Oh, yeah, I know,” and would I say, “We should drive around in your nu nu for a while, and think about how strange it is that Tym got to be so brave”?

  And then I thought of something else: I thought of what our mother might have meant with her mirror letters.

  Maybe she meant that mirrors turn things around, reflect them in reverse. Maybe she wanted Timidity to look at a mirror and realize she was actually Brave. And maybe I should see Jealousy there, and turn it into something like Pride.

  All around me people were laughing at Tym’s jokes, and I wanted to stand up and shout, “That’s my little sister!”

  As the laughter subsided, Tym dropped the megaphone and put the microphone back to her mouth. “And to conclude,” she said, straight-faced. “Some day you might want to put your finger into a friend’s ear. But never, ever use a pen.”

  Then she aimed the pen at Mr. Kershaw’s ear and chased him across the stage.

  WHY I HIT MY BOYFRIEND

  Dyan Sheldon

  When Aidan McClusky asked me out the first time, I thought he’d made a mistake. You know, that he’d been temporarily blinded or got hit in the head in a soccer game, or something like that.

  I said, “You what?”

  Aidan said, "You want to go to a movie sometime?”

  I looked over my shoulder, just in case he was talking to some so-popular-I-should-be-illegal girl behind me. There was no one there.

  I better explain that Aidan McClusky was eat-your-heart-out gorgeous, and one of the hottest boys at Pulaski High, if not the hottest. There wasn’t a cheerleader, potential prom queen, or ultimate babe in the entire school who wouldn’t have given up her clothes allowance for at least six months to go out with him. He was totally A-list. Which is why I was a little confused. The most I was was B-list. Bottom of B. Aidan and I sat next to each other in English and we were friendly, but the fact that we joked about the food in the cafeteria and the principal’s hair implants didn’t mean anything. He was friendly to the Z-list geek who sat on the other side of him in English, too. Aidan was a friendly kind of guy.

  “Well?” Aidan looked at his watch in an exaggerated way. “What do you say, Mimi? I was thinking of going within the next week, not the next year.”

  I laughed. “Sure,” I said. “That’d be great.”

  “Maybe he lost a bet,” said Bethany.

  “Thanks,” I said. “It’s times like these when you realize how important it is to have a best friend.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Bethany. “Aidan McClusky’s dated practically every seriously popular girl in school at least once.”

  “What are you saying? That he’s run out of popular girls, so he had to ask me? Or that he’s a serial dater?”

  “I’m not saying anything. I’m just stating a fact.” Bethany shrugged. “You know . . . I wouldn’t get my hopes up—you know, for anything to come of it.”

  It had never happened before, but it occurred to me that Bethany might be jealous. The boys she dated weren’t exactly the kind to make Orlando Bloom consider plastic surgery.

  “What hopes? We’re just going to the movies, not getting engaged.”

  When he took me home after the movie, Aidan said it was the best date he’d ever had. I said, “Me too.” Then he said the soccer team had a game on Saturday afternoon. Aidan was the captain and the star player. Aidan said, "It’d bring me good luck if you were there.”

  I was supposed to go shopping with Bethany, but I said I’d go.

  I asked Bethany to come with me. “We can go shopping after it’s over.”

  “Yeah, right. If Aidan doesn’t have other ideas.” I could tell from her voice that Bethany was making her sucking-a-lemon face. “Anyway, I don’t
like soccer any more than you do.”

  I said I didn’t know if I liked it or not because I’d never really seen a game.

  “Well, here’s your big chance,” said Bethany.

  After the game Aidan did have other ideas. He invited me to go for pizza with the team. “You’re the one who brought us luck. You’re practically an honorary member.”

  I sat next to him and smiled a lot and pretended I understood what they were talking about.

  When he drove me home Aidan said, “I should never’ve brought you along with all those guys. I saw the way they were looking at you.”

  I didn’t think they were looking at me at all. The only time they technically took their eyes off their food was when they were illustrating a play with pieces of crust and an olive.

  Aidan gazed into my eyes. “You don’t know the effect you have on guys, Mimi.”

  Except for the time I walked into Craig Ziggy in the cafeteria and knocked his tray out of his hands, and it hit Foxy Daniels in the head and a fight broke out, I didn’t think I had any effect on boys.

  “You’re not like the other girls I’ve dated. They were always flirting with other guys.” Aidan kissed the tip of my nose. “Stay as sweet as you are.”

  That was my plan.

  After that we didn’t make dates anymore; we were officially going out.

  “He’s been hurt in love,” I reported to Bethany. “Girls are always breaking his heart.”

  Bethany smirked. “And how could they do that when he never dates anyone more than twice?”

  “You don’t know him. Aidan’s really very sensitive. He may come over as megaconfident and sure of himself, but deep down he’s really insecure.” It made me want to protect him.

  But it didn’t make Bethany want to protect him. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Him and Tom Cruise.”

  I smiled at myself in a passing window. “And anyway, the serial dating thing’s all in the past.” Just the thought made me feel like I’d fallen into a heated pool. “As of last night he’s officially going out with me.”

  Bethany looked more like she’d fallen into mud. “Oh yeah? And what brought about this astounding transformation?”

  I couldn’t help feeling a little smug. “He met the right girl.”

  “I never see you anymore,” complained Bethany.

  “What are you talking about?” Aidan had practice, so she and I were walking home from school together. I wasn’t invited along anymore to cheer on the soccer team because Aidan said my presence threw the other guys off their game. Mainly we just hung out at his house or mine by ourselves. Aidan said he didn’t like to share me. "You see me every day.”

  Bethany kicked a stone off the pavement. “In school. You and four hundred other people.”

  I laughed. "Oh, come on . . . you know what it’s like when you first start dating someone.”

  Bethany’s laugh was a little on the snorting donkey side. “No, but I’m finding out.”

  “Oh, come on, Beth...” I could feel myself blush. “I think maybe I’m falling in love.”

  Bethany raised one eyebrow in a what’s-that-fork-doing-in-my-makeup-case kind of way. “Is that what you call it? Love?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, slowly but firmly. It was the first time I’d used the “L” word. “Yes, that’s what I call it.”

  “It could be mistaken for something else,” said Bethany.

  I didn’t bother to ask her what.

  “Lighten up, will you?” I gave her a playful poke. "It’s just that it takes a lot of work to build a relationship.”

  “You could build a house in less time,” said Bethany.

  I laughed. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we do something tomorrow night? Bowling or something?”

  She came to a stop and eyed me suspiciously. “What about Aidan? I thought Friday was your night to watch horror videos with him. Don’t tell me you’re going to pass up an evening of blood, gore, and saliva to go bowling with me.”

  “He’s hanging out with his friends.”

  Bethany sighed. “I should’ve known.”

  Aidan gave me a kiss. “I’ll call you later from Brad’s,” he promised. “It could be a long night.”

  “I won’t be home.” I kissed him back. “I’m seeing Bethany.”

  “Well, bring your cell phone. You can stop yakking with her long enough to talk to me for a few minutes, can’t you?”

  I told him we were going bowling. The bowling alley forbids cell phones. The manager says serious bowlers don’t want to lose their concentration because a nearby phone starts playing “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

  Aidan said, “Bowling?” His smile was suddenly a lot less warm and friendly than a boa constrictor’s. “Who with?”

  “Nobody. Just me and Beth.”

  “You and Bethany are going bowling by yourselves?” The boa constrictor had slithered onto an ice floe. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious.” The way he was reacting, you’d think I said we were going on a turkey shoot. “We used to go all the time.”

  “I bet you did.”

  There was something in his tone that made me feel like I’d been bitten, but I didn’t show it. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I teased.

  Aidan didn’t so much as smile. “I’m not getting at you, Mi. But everybody knows what a flirt Bethany is.”

  “They do?” It was news to me.

  “Look, I know she’s your best friend and everything, but the only reason Bethany’d go bowling is to pick up boys.”

  This time I really laughed. “Bethany’s been bowling since she was five. Her mother’s got trophies.”

  “I don’t care if Bethany was born with a bowling ball in her hand and her mom’s an Olympic champ. I’m telling you what I know.” He wrapped his arms around me and leaned his head on mine. “I don’t like you going out with her. She’s not a good influence.”

  “But...”

  “You know how I feel about you, Mi. I—I really— well, you know—I really like you. It’d drive me crazy to think you were hanging out with other guys.”

  It felt like my blood was bubbling. He’d almost said the “L” word! If my heart beat any faster, it would implode. Now definitely wasn’t the time to have a fight.

  “And you know how I feel about you...” I nuzzled against him. “I don’t want to upset you—not ever.”

  “I know you don’t.” He gave me a squeeze. “So I’ll phone you at home from Brad’s tonight, okay?”

  I said I’d be waiting.

  Never mind that I could’ve built a house for all the work I put into building my relationship with Aidan; I could’ve built Rome. I promised that I would never upset him, and I meant it. It became my mission in life to always make him happy. That’s what love is. Making someone else happy. I was only sixteen, but I knew that much. I’d read the books, heard the songs, and seen the movies.

  I used to have a lot of male friends at school, but I stopped hanging out with them or saying anything more than “Hi” or “How’s it going?” because Aidan didn’t like it.

  “We’re just friends,” I said the first time Aidan got all bent out of shape because he saw me talking to Jared Bell.

  “You’re so naïve,” Aidan told me. “Can’t you see he’s after you?”

  I said that he wasn’t. Jared and I had been friends since grade school.

  “Then maybe you’re not naïve,” said Aidan. "Maybe you’re just like all the rest.”

  I didn’t want to be like all the rest.

  So, because I didn’t want to be like all the rest, I pretty much stopped going out with Bethany and my other friends. Aidan didn’t trust them.

  I stopped wearing skirts because Aidan said my skirts were all too short and would give guys the wrong idea.

  I stopped running when I was late for a class because Aidan said my boobs bounced so much that everybody looked at me.

  I kept my eyes on the ground when I was out with Aidan because
he always thought I was looking at other boys.

  It was all pretty exhausting, but I was happy. I was in love. What was there not to be happy about?

  And then Bethany’s cousin, Josie, came for the weekend.

  I’d known Josie for as long as I’d known Bethany. Before Josie’s family moved away, the three of us were always together. Which made her one of my oldest friends.

  “What do you mean, you’re not coming out with us?” said Bethany. “It’s all set.” The idea was that we’d go out for pizza and then have a sleepover at Bethany’s. Just like old times.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I’m supposed to be seeing Aidan.”

  “Well, can’t you not see him for one night? He lives three miles from you, not three hundred like Josie. She’s expecting you to be there. What am I supposed to tell her? That you’re in love, so you don’t mingle with the peasants anymore?”

  “But I promised.”

  Bethany cocked one eyebrow in a so-what way. “I don’t think it’s legally binding, Mi. Just tell him something came up.”

  I couldn’t do that.

  “He’ll be hurt that I’d rather spend time with you guys than with him.”

  “Hurt?” Bethany laughed as though I’d made the best joke ever. “Why would he be hurt? You just want to hang out with your friends. He hangs out with his, doesn’t he?”

  I couldn’t explain.

  “Are you sure you’re in love, or have you had a lobotomy?” Bethany studied my face like she was looking for clues. “Don’t you want to see Josie?”

  “Of course I do.” I did.

  “Well, think about it,” said Bethany. “You can always change your mind.”

  It was Aidan who changed his mind.

  “The team’s going out for a victory celebration,” Aidan informed me on Saturday afternoon. “Since we’ve won every game this season so far.”

  I said, “Oh. That sounds terrific.”

  “It should be fun.”

  I smiled. “So, where are you going?”

  “The coach got the department van so he’s driving us all to The Steak Out.”

  The Steak Out’s one of those gigantic hunks of meat and all-you-can-eat salad bar places. It’s miles out of town. And as soon as I realized that, I heard Bethany say, He goes out with his friends, doesn’t he? And I decided I’d go out with my friends too. It would be fun. Just like old times.