by Naomi Niles
Now was not the time to tell her that.
“You stay out of this, Taylor,” Mrs. Dean said.
“Not when you’re shouting so that the whole neighborhood can hear.”
“The neighborhood cannot hear me. You know I wouldn’t if they could.”
I slid my hands into my pockets. I was going to have a front row seat to a cat fight, I thought. I’d heard about mothers and daughters. It was all true in the Dean household.
“How true. It’s all about appearances to you.”
Said the girl covered in makeup. I tried not to smile.
“This boy is bad news.”
“That’s awful, Mother. He’s just a kid who has had some bad breaks.”
I probably should point out that they shouldn’t talk about me like I wasn’t there, but I was not getting into the middle of this. Mr. Dean was out somewhere, and I had no idea when he would be back. He would not be able to save me from this.
“Your father has turned you,” Mrs. Dean said.
“Really? You think I don’t have an opinion of my own?”
“You and your father are a team. I know how this household works.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. I got the feeling that they had this fight on a regular basis. I only happened to be the subject this time.
“Right, Mother. We’re all against you. I think you owe Dylan an apology.”
“You’re suddenly on his side? You’re his new cheerleader.”
Which was ironic, since she was, indeed, a cheerleader.
“I’ve just decided to give him a chance,” Taylor said. “You should, too.”
Her mother groaned then left, brushing past Taylor. I tried not to look at the spot where Taylor’s robe came together. From this angle, it looked like she was naked underneath it. Her feet and legs were bare.
Oh, crap. I was getting a boner.
I turned my body away from her. “You don’t need to defend me, Taylor.”
She stepped further into the room. For the love of God, leave, I thought. She put a hand on my shoulder. I about shot out of the chair. “It’s okay, Dylan. She’ll come around. She just takes longer.”
“It’s fine, Taylor. Go get ready for your date.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as an attractive girl was half clothed in my presence.
Holy shit. Just a tug of her belt and she’d be naked. Would she be surprised if I did that? She’d probably get mad and then I’d really be out on my ass. Think of math. Differential equations. Convergence. Harmonic sequence. Shit. It wasn’t working.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Taylor. Please, go. I’m fine. I’ve had a lot worse happen to me.”
I was getting angry and I shouldn’t. She had no idea the effect she had on me. Or any girl in a robe would have on me. I was a teenaged boy, after all.
***
After her being in a robe on Saturday night, I was happy that Taylor was fully dressed when I helped her with math on Sunday. I’d gone to see my mother and was feeling depressed. Spending time with Taylor would lighten my mood.
We decided to work at the dining room table. Her father was out washing his car. I had no idea where Mrs. Dean was. Besides meals, I hadn’t seen her, but I did spend a lot of time in my room when I was not at school.
I had the book laid out and a pencil ready for Taylor. She bopped into the room looking like we were going to be baking cupcakes or something. I was happy that I was going to be spending time with her, but was she that happy about it, also?
Or had her date gone that well?
I hadn’t been home when she got back. My curfew was later. I was a guy. That’s how it worked, apparently. I’d just been happy to borrow her car.
She plopped down in a seat next to me, her notebook in her hand.
“Ready?” I asked.
She frowned. “I want a soda first. You want one?”
I nodded. She left and came back with two cans and a bowl of potato chips. She was stalling. I could understand that. She didn’t want to do this math, but she had to learn it. Not that she would use it again. If she was that far into the weeds in high school, she shouldn’t take it in college.
“What do you want to major in at college?” I said.
She looked around to see if anyone was in the room with us. Not sure why. “I want to be a nurse, but my mother wants me to be an engineer.”
“Not with your math skills.”
I realized how that sounded as soon as it was out of my mouth. I expected her to stomp out. Instead, Taylor laughed. “You are right, but I need to at least pass this class. And then never take anything like this again.”
“Not a bad idea. How was your date last night?”
Maybe I was stalling, too. I had looked forward to spending the afternoon with her. I shouldn’t. She was off limits to me, but a guy could hope. I’m sure she had no interest in me. She was the good girl and I was the bad boy. That only happened in trashy teen movies.
Not in real life.
“It was okay. He was kind of a jerk.”
I straightened, feeling protective. “What did he do?”
“He insisted that I kiss him goodnight.”
“You didn’t want to?”
“No, I didn’t. I guess I don’t like to do that on the first date.”
She really was innocent. I’d done more than that after only a burger. Her date had taken her to a nice restaurant. If I knew the guy, I’d have a talk with him. “What did you do?”
“I walked away. He yelled at me, but I wasn’t budging.”
“I told you guys were dicks.”
She laughed. “Yes, you did, and I’m going to listen to you from now on. He sent me a text today.”
“Did you tell him last night that you didn’t want to go out with him again?”
“Not really, no.”
“We men are idiots. We need direct language. Tell us what you want us to do,” I told her.
Too many women assumed we had an idea what was going on in their heads. We didn’t have clue.
“Really? I should have told him that last night?”
“Yes. What time did he drop you home?”
“Ten.”
“He should have gotten the first hint from that early time. Then you could have reinforced it with what you said. No reason to be mean, just firm.”
She tapped the pencil against her cheek while she stared at me. “Wow. I never would have thought of that.”
“Did you text him back?”
“No, I wanted to ask you what I should do.”
“You should tell him that you don’t want to see him again. Think of it as rejecting a puppy. You have to be firm, but don’t kick the guy in the nuts.”
She laughed again, and I liked making her do that. Crap. It was going to be a long afternoon if I kept thinking about her this way. She sipped her soda then pulled out her phone. “Help me do this.”
She tapped on some keys then showed me the text. I shook my head. She’d taken a nicer approach than I thought she should. “No. Say these words. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to see you again. It isn’t going to work out.”
“I should say that? That isn’t kicking him in the nuts?”
“No, it isn’t. Calling him names and telling him he’s ugly would be.”
There was that laugh again. In that laugh, I could hear hope for my world. Holy shit. Stop, Dylan. Stop, I told myself. I rubbed my face while she typed.
“Okay, I did it. Will he text me back?”
“He might, but ignore it. If you respond, he’ll keep responding thinking that there is hope.”
She nodded. “Well, you’ve taught me a lot about guys today. Maybe we need to talk about math. Or do you want to tell me about your night?”
I shrugged. “Nothing to tell. Guys hanging out. Talking about girls.”
Specifically, girls we would like to do and teachers we’d do it to also, but sweet, innocent
Taylor didn’t need to know that part. She would be disgusted at what we talk about. No need to completely shatter her illusions about boys. Not all at once.
“Do you talk about girls the way we talk about boys?”
He laughed. “Not quite, but I’m not revealing any more. We men need some secrets.”
She nodded then opened the textbook. “Sadly, we have to get down to this math. You need a refill on the soda before we start?”
“No, thanks. Let’s get going.”
Chapter Eight
Taylor
I walked down the hall after math. Dylan had run out of class before I could talk to him, but for the first time, I hadn’t felt lost in class. I had some idea what the teacher was saying. I stopped at her locker and Greg, the guy I’d had a date with Saturday, stopped by. I groaned inside.
“Hello, Taylor.”
“I thought I made it clear, Greg, that I wasn’t interested.”
“No reason to be a bitch, Taylor.”
I pulled out the books I needed. I didn’t want this from him. Hadn’t my text been clear? “I’m not being a bitch. I’m telling you that I said everything I needed to tell you in that text. I want you to leave me alone.”
I slammed my locker and walked away from him. He put a hand on my shoulder. I spun back to him, pissed. This guy as an idiot. I’m sure my face was red. “What do you want?”
“Another chance.”
“I don’t want to go out with you again.”
“Why not?”
“Because you were rude to me and I’m not interested in you,” I said.
I stared him right in the eyes so he’d understand that I was serious.
“You can’t be serious. This is me. Girls would give their right leg to go out with me.”
“Not this girl.”
He put his hand on my shoulder again to stop me when I turned away from him. I didn’t turn this time, but tried to shake him off. “Stop it, Greg.”
“Or you’ll do what?”
I looked back at him. His eyes raked up and down me. “We meet alone somewhere, you’re mine.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a promise.”
He put his face close to mine, but then he was yanked backwards. Dylan had him by the neck and his arm was cocked back to punch Greg.
“Dylan, no.”
Dylan looked at me. His face was red with anger. “Is this the guy?”
“Yes, but he isn’t worth getting in trouble over.”
Dylan glanced back at Greg then back at me. “You leave her alone. She’d made it clear that she isn’t interested.”
He let go of Greg, who made a show of wiping off any dirt on himself. Not that there was any. He was just being an ass.
“What the fuck concern is it of yours?” Greg said.
He was brave now that Dylan had let him go. Dylan had a few inches on him and the asswipe was still mouthing off to him.
“She’s my friend,” Dylan said.
That was sweet. He considered me a friend.
Greg looked from Dylan to me. “Oh, I get it. You want her all to yourself.” He pointed to Dylan and asked me, “Slumming with him?”
Dylan’s arm went back again, but I grabbed it. “Don’t, Dylan. He’s an idiot.”
Dylan looked at my hand on his arm. He relaxed it. I really didn’t want him to get into trouble. My father might kick him out, and I didn’t want that to happen. I was beginning to like the guy. I wanted him to have a chance at a good life.
Back in the trailer, he wouldn’t.
Dylan stepped back. “Beat it.”
The bell rang. I was late. I was never late to class. Dylan looked at me as Greg left at the sound. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I deal with punks like him all of the time,” he said.
Right now, he was my hero. I had been beginning to be afraid of Greg when Dylan showed up. “You’re going to be late to class.”
“It’s just study hall. The teacher’s cool. You should go to your next class and tell her your stomach hurts. Tell him or her that you were in the bathroom afraid you were going to throw up. You can go to the nurse’s office and get to lay down for a few minutes, then she’ll give you a pass to your next class. That way you won’t be late.”
I cocked my head at him. “Spoken like someone who has done it before.”
He smiled, and I realized it was an adorable grin that lit up his brown eyes. “More than once.”
He spun away from me and walked to class like he didn’t have a care in the world. My step was lighter knowing that Dylan was on my side. It was nice to have a protector. I walked into my next class, hunched over. I hoped I looked pale enough.
“Mrs. Watkins, my stomach hurts. Can I go to the nurse’s office?”
It might be nice to sit out a class. I have to admit that Greg had shaken me up. I’d never had anyone treat me that way and I didn’t like it. Dylan had ridden in on his white horse.
I lay in the nurse’s office thinking about him. What a tough life he must have. Hopefully, it would be better now. I wondered what I could do to brighten it. Should I introduce him to my friends or did he not care about those things? I didn’t know.
What I knew about Dylan, I could count on one hand. He wasn’t a forthcoming with information. He still hadn’t told Daddy why he’d been writing on the wall. I wondered why he didn’t want to tell us. Was it embarrassing?
Had someone written something about him?
No, that wasn’t it. He didn’t care what most people thought. It must be a great way to go through life. Then again, the reasons he of how he got there aren’t good.
I sat up when the nurse came in.
“I’m feeling better. Can I go back to class?”
“Of course.”
She wrote me a pass. There was only ten minutes left in the period, so I sauntered and got there with only five left. No need to even open my notebook. Bailey was in that class and would give me her notes.
The bell rang.
“I saw Greg in the hallway. He looked mad. Is everything okay?” Bailey said.
It was. Because Dylan would protect me.
Chapter Nine
Dylan
I found the right room for the Mathletes. Oh, God. That sounded nerdy. I guess I was a nerd, but Taylor had recommended this club since I was good at math. She said it would look good for college.
Like I was going to college. Still, Mr. Dean wanted me to get involved, so I paused outside the classroom where the Mathletes met. I’d heard of them, but had never given them much thought before. I couldn’t think about much with my stomach rumbling.
I couldn’t remember the last time I went hungry. I was putting on needed weight and probably should go to the weight room instead of the nerd room.
And it was.
I opened the door and five kids with glasses and superhero t-shirts turned to look at me.
“Can we help you?”
They looked a little scared of me, as if I was going to shake them down for their lunch money. “I’m here to join.”
They all looked at each other, then back at me.
“It’s not a joke, guys. I’m good at math.”
The tallest one stepped up. He was almost my height, but skinny and pale. These kids were all a walking stereotype. There was even a dorky girl in the corner.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” I said. “I need to join an activity and someone suggested you guys.”
Did I have to be hazed first? Solve six differential equations in some short time period? They exchanged a glance again. The taller one stepped closer. “I’m Jake.”
“Dylan.”
We shook hands. The rest seemed to relax. The girl stared at me as if she’d never seen a man without a superhero shirt in her life.
“Why do you want to join us?” one of the others spoke up.
“Well, I’m living with a family and the father said
that I need to find an activity. I tried out for baseball and didn’t make it. A friend recommended your club. She said I would fit in okay.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I refused to judge them on their appearances. That wouldn’t be fair. Jake nodded. “It’s fine guys. I don’t think it’s a prank.”
“A prank?”
“One of the jocks joined and made us lose our first meet. On purpose. Then he left. I’m guessing the football team thought it was funny.”
“Oh, no, this isn’t a prank. What do you guys do?”
“Well, we compete in tournaments. We have to solve math problems and are asked questions about math related topics.”
“Well, I’m getting an A in calculus. Do I qualify?” I said.
“That would do. We’ve never tested anyone or turned away anyone,” Jake said. “People aren’t knocking down the door to join us.”
I shrugged. Whatever. If it made Mr. Dean happy, I didn’t really care. Having been an outcast my whole high school life, being a part of something might be nice. I was surprised that Taylor had known about them. Guess she wasn’t that much of a snob, after all.
“Then, I want to join. Is it too late?”
“No, but we have a tournament coming up and you won’t be eligible to compete.”
I shrugged again. “That’s fine.”
Jake made the introductions. I learned the girl’s name was Sandra. She was reluctant to shake my hand, but I’d win her over. I had that kind of touch with the ladies. She’d be charmed by me. Eventually.
The meeting lasted an hour and when I walked out of the classroom, Taylor was waiting for me. I said goodbye to all of the mathletes. They saw Taylor and stepped back like she was a queen or something. I guess in some ways she was.
She smiled at all of them, but didn’t say anything. I fell into step beside her.
“How was it?”
“A little odd at first, then it was okay.”
“You think it’s the right club for you?”
I nodded. “I do, Taylor. Thanks. I don’t look like a geek, but I guess in my heart, I am.”
She laughed. Each time she did, my heart skipped a beat. I had always thought that was bullshit, but it happened. I swear. “Did they ask you about your tattoos?”
“Yeah, they did. I don’t think I’m the only one in the school with them, so I don’t know why people bring them up.”