"If you want to be considered a person, you shouldn't act like a stalker." I ducked under his arm and broke into a jog.
"I'm Kevin Moore!" He shouted after me. "What's your name?"
"I'm not telling you!" I shouted back. A classroom door opened and an angry face peered out.
"Keep it down out here!" We both cleared out of the hall.
I really didn't want to but I kept thinking about him on and off the rest of the morning. I was thinking about him again when I returned to the cafeteria for lunch. Joyce was waiting for me. We sat down together at the table and I told her what had happened after I left the library.
"He really has a lot of nerve," she said.
"What are you talking about?" Phyllis joined us with a heavily-laden tray.
"Nothing," I replied with an embarrassed shrug.
"It is something," Joyce said. "This boy has been bothering her."
Phyllis's eyes opened wide with avid interest. "Which boy? Do I know him?"
"His name’s Kevin Moore,” I said. “And I doubt that you know him. He said he'd just transferred here for his senior year."
"Kevin Moore? Is that Caron's brother?"
The question surprised me. I hadn't made the connection, although now that Phyllis mentioned it, they did look somewhat alike. "Could be. I don't know."
Her eyes narrowed in her moon-shaped face. "Is he tall, handsome and very dark?"
"Not that tall, about five nine or ten, but, yes, he’s handsome and dark — black hair, straight and shiny, and eyes like coals."
"That's him all right! And he tried to hit on you?" Phyllis looked awe-struck. Well, who could blame her?
I moved uncomfortably in my chair. "He implied an interest."
Joyce snorted. “Understatement.”
Phyllis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you can tell me if he came on to you, Danna. I mean he does have that reputation."
Joyce leaned forward with interest. "How do you know about him and his reputation? He’s new in our school."
Phyllis wet her lips. "My neighbor is Joanne Harper. You know her, don't you? She's a senior this year too. Anyway, she was dating him for a while over the summer. I think they met at the club."
"Joanne Harper — isn't she that blond baton twirler with the stupid giggle?" Joyce asked.
"She doesn't giggle much anymore. In fact, Joanne's been pretty upset since Kevin Moore broke up with her."
"I don't want to hear gossip," I said, worrying my lower lip. "Who wants to hear about people we don't even know?"
Phyllis lifted her chin, a smug expression on her round face. "Well, I know all about them and maybe you should too. I hear he's someone to watch out for. Joanne's mother told my mom all about it. He's a womanizer."
"What exactly does that mean?" I asked.
"He's a lady-killer, dates a lot of different girls all the time. Then he dumps them when they start getting serious about him."
"That's not surprising. He can't be more than seventeen or eighteen. That’s too young to get serious about anybody." Why was I defending someone I didn’t really know or like?
"True," Phyllis agreed, "but he does move kind of fast. Joanne really liked him a lot. She says he turned out to be a playboy. Anyway, Mrs. Harper is happy it's over. She thought he was too sophisticated for Joanne."
"Mickey Mouse is too sophisticated for her," Joyce remarked.
"Well, Mrs. Harper thought she smelled liquor on his breath once or twice. She told my mother all about it. If you ask me, you ought to be very careful around someone like that. He's obviously looking to chalk up another conquest. He's just a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy."
"I'll keep that in mind," I told her.
"Just trying to be a friend," Phyllis said taking a large mouthful of pizza.
We didn't talk about Kevin Moore anymore at lunch, much to my relief. But walking to the bus, the subject of Kevin Moore came up all over again. There he was in his blood-red Corvette looking like the coolest kid on the planet. He honked and waved.
"Not again!" Joyce said in an exasperated voice and rolled her eyes.
"Don't worry, I'll discourage him." I shook my head at him but he came zeroing in like a kamikaze pilot. For a moment I thought he was going to hit somebody. He didn't seem to care how he was driving.
"Come on; just tell me who you are! Let me drive you home."
I figured he was only still interested because I was giving him a hard time and he obviously wasn't used to it. Just from what Phyllis told us, I knew he wasn't for me. He was much too experienced with girls. He had a real advantage over me. Spending time with him would be like swimming out to sea with a great white shark waiting to take a bite.
But in spite of all common sense and logic, I had to fight the urge to jump in beside him — Kevin Moore was that attractive. He was also the first boy who had ever pursued me and I felt terribly flattered no matter what his motives happened to be. I wondered if I would ever be chased like that by other boys. Probably not. Feeling letdown, I watched him drive away.
"He's just bad news," Joyce said, casting a sideways look at me. "I don't agree with Phyllis about much, but I can tell she's right about him. He's shallow and spoiled, used to getting his own way."
"How can you tell? Don't you think Joanne Harper might just be expressing sour grapes because he dumped her?"
"Maybe," Joyce agreed evenly, "but what do you think of his sister, Caron? She’s his counterpart, right?"
Both of us disliked her. "You know what I think. She strikes me as selfish, spoiled and superficial, but she's awful popular. So maybe we're missing something, or maybe we’re just jealous."
"Or maybe she’s glib and smooth socially, but there's not much underneath."
"Maybe so," I agreed. "Of course, we really don't know either one of them well enough to judge."
"Just be careful. I don't trust that boy. I get bad vibes."
"Not much chance of him bothering with me again anyway."
As soon as I got home I changed to comfortable clothes, my ragged sweats, and got down to studying. I worked two full hours before going to the kitchen to check out the refrigerator. Mom always left plenty of food. She might shop religiously for bargains, coupons in hand, but she never let us go hungry. I made myself start fixing dinner. I did that whenever Mom was working late. I found some ground beef and started putting together a meatloaf. Before Mom came home from work, everything was in the oven. I had potatoes and carrots cooking and I even fixed some garlic bread.
I came out of the kitchen to ask if Dad wanted anything, but he shook his head. There were shadows under his eyes. He seemed weary.
"You cooking tonight?" he asked.
"It'll be good," I said defensively.
"Never said it wouldn't be." He wheeled himself away to his bedroom and I heard the door close behind him. Just as I went back to the kitchen to check on the oven, the telephone rang.
The voice at the other end was decidedly masculine and asking for me. "I'm calling because I was given your name. I was asked to do some tutoring in geometry."
"Yes, I asked for a tutor. I understand the honor society doesn't charge for the service."
"That's right. It counts as student service credit for us. The thing is, I'm really tight on time. So I wondered if we could meet in the evenings. I have football practice every day after school."
"Sure, you could come over here to my house, if you don't mind."
"Okay, just give me directions and I can make it over tomorrow if that's all right with you."
“The sooner the better." I hoped I didn’t sound too eager. Finally, some help was on the way! I gave him directions to the house and he didn't seem put off by the fact that I lived in the Beach section even though it seemed he lived clear across town. "Oh, just one thing," I said as he was about to hang up, "I didn't get your name."
"Guess I forgot to say. Sorry. My name is Gar Hansen." He hung up, and it was just as well because I couldn't speak: the shock was too gr
eat. Gar Hansen, the big man himself, humbly condescending to tutor one of lesser intellect? How could that be? I didn't want him for my tutor. I didn't even want him ever to saunter into my house. I could imagine how scornful and superior he would be. I would die of shame! I walked into the living room, seeing the house as I imagined he would see it. The furniture was old and shabby. The carpeting was worn, and the room could have stood a new coat of paint. Only the blue drapes weren't bad. Mom and I had made them ourselves not more than a year ago. But everything else in the room spoke of yesterday. No, I definitely did not want him in my house!
I took out the phone book and looked for his name, but there were several Hansens. The unmistakable smell of burning meat caught my nose. I ran back to the kitchen and shut off the oven.
Silently, I cursed Gar Hansen, blaming him for the destruction of the meatloaf. But luckily the meat did turn out to be salvageable. As I finished setting the table for dinner, I resolved that I would tell Gar Hansen the next day to forget about tutoring me. There had to be someone else, anyone else, available!
Mom came home at six-fifty and I served dinner. She gave me a hug as we sat down at the table. "So nice to have such a helpful daughter," she said.
Dad didn't speak until he tasted the meatloaf. "A bit dried out, don't you think? You didn't have to char it on one side."
"I did my best."
"Always got your head buried in some book. Got to think of functioning in the real world."
My eyes started to fill. I bit down on my lower lip. My mother took my hand in hers. "She tries very hard. I'm proud our girl's a good student."
"There're more important things, practical things. She's got to learn that." I got up and left the table.
"Where are you going?" he called after me.
I didn't answer. I'm too sensitive, Mom says, and I shouldn't take offense so easily. But I think I would have said something I might regret later if I stayed. The meatloaf stuck in my throat.
It seemed to me that my stepdad completely disapproved of everything I did and everything I liked. Mom said I was just imagining it, but I don't think so. Anyway, there was no pleasing him no matter what. I put it out of my mind as best I could and went back to doing schoolwork. I decided that I would seek out Gar Hansen the next day and tell him to forget about the tutoring. I got enough disapproval as it was.
It wasn't until lunchtime the next day that I got the chance to tell him. I saw him talking with his friends at first, and I couldn't go over to a table full of jocks, so I waited. It was actually Caron Moore who helped me, although she didn't know it.
She drew Gar away from his buddies. I thought again how attractive they looked together. She was doing all the talking in a vivacious and charming manner. He barely looked her in the eye. He seemed almost shy, but I knew that wasn't possible. Maybe he even considered himself too good for her! I don't know how I did it but I marched right up to them and broke in on their conversation.
Chapter Three
I walked quickly up to Caron and Gar, before I could lose my courage. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought Gar looked relieved, as if the interruption was welcome.
“I’m Danna, the girl you said you’d tutor.”
He gave me a nod of recognition. His bright blue eyes followed me attentively. “Tonight’s good, like I said. Around seven, okay?”
I started to say that it wasn’t okay, that it would never be okay, but before the words could come out, Caron thrust herself between us.
“You tutor? You’re just full of surprises! I could use some help myself.” She led him expertly away.
So there I stood, my words unsaid. I started to follow, but they were soon back with their friends. I couldn’t bring myself to go any nearer to them. It had been all I could manage to go up to Gar Hansen the first time. I felt foolish and cowardly. He was going to show up at my house and I knew I was going to feel ten times worse than I did now, but I couldn’t make myself go and talk to him again.
I rushed off to my next class which was phys ed. Half-way there, someone bumped into me and grabbed my arm.
“Hey, where are you headed in such a hurry?” It was Kevin Moore looking dashing in an acid-washed denim jacket, black T-shirt and body-hugging jeans.
“I’m late for gym.”
“Okay, I’ll run interference for you.” He gave me a charming smile, a dimple winking in his right cheek.
“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere too?”
“Just lunch. It can wait.” He walked along beside me matching my hurried pace. “So what are we doing after school today?”
I glanced at him warily. “I’m working in the art room. I have no idea what you are doing.”
“I’m hanging around until you finish so you and I can get better acquainted.”
“Sorry. I can’t.”
“Oh, that’s right; you need a proper introduction, don’t you? You’re that kind of girl. It’s okay. I don’t mind. I kind of like it as a matter of fact. Cute and old-fashioned. Nice change of pace. What grade are you in?”
“Sophomore.”
“Perfect. You’ll get that introduction today. What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t!”
“Let me guess. It wouldn’t be Rumpelstiltskin? I made you smile, didn’t I? Well, that’s a hopeful sign.”
“We’re both going to be in trouble if we don’t hurry.”
He shrugged. “Trouble always follows me around,” he said lightly. “So don’t you think it’s time you told me your name?”
“Goodbye,” I said.
“Goodbye? Kind of a weird name. Wait! Don’t I at least get two more guesses?”
“No way.”
“Just like that? You’re blowing me off? You’d let an irresistible guy like me walk away without a second thought? Can’t let you do that. You’d hate yourself tomorrow.”
“What a shame you think so little of yourself.” With that, I hurried into the girls’ locker room, slamming the door behind.
I found that I was smiling to myself. I didn’t want to admit it, but talking to him made me feel a whole lot better. It was flattering having a cool guy like Kevin Moore act so interested in me. Somehow it didn’t seem important what his motives might be.
****
Ms. Meade and I worked in the art room until nearly five o’clock. I really enjoyed being there, plus she was my favorite teacher. I was helping her fire some freshmen clay sculptures in the kiln.
“Is it hard to become a commercial artist?” I asked her.
Her hazel eyes sparkled at me. “It’s not an easy field to break into, but with talent and the right training, it can be done. I know you have the talent, Danna. Maybe I can help you plan the schools you should apply to when the time comes.”
“That would be wonderful.”
I was grateful for her encouragement. I doubt she realized how much it meant to me. She was keeping my dreams alive. There was nothing more important.
Ms. Meade was still working when I left to catch the late bus. Outside, the day had turned dark and a drenching rain was falling. The sky was a dreary, brain matter gray. I was soaked almost immediately. As I walked toward the bus stop, a now familiar horn sounded. The red Corvette pulled over beside me.
“Hey, Rumpelstiltskin let me drive you home today!”
I tried to ignore him, but he followed along beside me.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Don’t you think virtue should be rewarded?”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Hop in!”
“Can’t.”
“Sure is lousy weather. You’re getting soaked. You don’t need pneumonia, do you?” He continued to follow along beside me. “Afraid your guard dog wouldn’t approve?”
“My what?”
“Curly locks with the thick glasses. Reminds me of a German Shepherd.”
“You mean Joyce.”
“Whoever. She doesn’t seem to like me very much.”
�
��Joyce is my friend. She’s just watching out for me.”
“Like I said, a guard dog.”
“Like I said, she’s my friend.”
“Well, that’s what I want to be too. We have that in common. A person can never have too many friends, right? Come on, I promise to get you that formal introduction you seem to need.”
I was standing in the drenching rain. There was no bus in sight. I had to make a decision.
“Finally wore down your resistance, didn’t I?” he said with a wolfish grin as I climbed in beside him. “Just so you know you can trust me, we’re going to Sal’s Pizza Parlor before I drive you home.”
“Why there?” I asked.
“Because I keep my promises,” he replied with a teasing smile. “Oh, and your friend might be a good guard dog but I’m a pit bull.”
He took off, driving fast — too fast. I snapped on the seat belt and held my breath. When we got to Sal’s, which is in the strip mall just across from our high school, he let me out in front and then parked the car.
I had second thoughts as I waited for him. “This isn’t such a good idea,” I said as he joined me.
“You can’t change your mind now.”
“I think I’d better walk back to the bus stop.”
He took my arm. “If you do, I’ll follow your bus until it lets you off and then follow you home.”
“You’re awfully persistent, aren’t you?”
“And resourceful. Also, suave, debonair and charming. But you’ll find that out later.”
“Not to mention humble.” I was enjoying our banter in spite of my misgivings.
“I’m preparing for a career in sales. Can’t sell a product if you don’t know how to sell yourself first.”
“That sounds very philosophical.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s just something I picked up from my father. He’s very successful in the business world.” Kevin guided me into the pizza place, which was crowded with other kids from our school.
If Joyce had been with me, I would never have been doing this. But the truth was I found Kevin hard to resist. He didn’t take himself too seriously. He was fun to be with. He selected a booth near the front and then helped me off with my wet jacket. When he touched my arm, I felt a kind of electric jolt that made my heart skip a beat.
The Devil and Danna Webster Page 3