by June Sproat
Ordinary Me
by
June Sproat
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Ordinary Me
COPYRIGHT © 2007 by June Sproat
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Justine Stark
Publishing History
Ordinary Me was previously published in paperback by The Wild Rose Press, First Climbing Rose Edition, 2008
Dedication
I dedicate this book to Mark, my own Mr. Wonderful, Judy Blume, who inspired me to want to become a writer, and Meg Cabot, whose brilliant writing motivated me to just get up and do it. I also thank my family and friends whose continued support made this book possible.
Chapter One
“I wish I could give Allison 100 endless summer nights.” —Brad Stevens
“I’m gagging here!”
Leave it to my best friend, Jodi, to announce what everyone else was actually thinking.
I stopped reading the Wish List from the Senior Edition of Wainscott North’s high school newspaper, Northern Lights, and pushed it across the table to Jodi.
“Yeah,” I said, only I didn’t really think it. I thought it was kind of, you know, romantic. Not that romance was the top thing on my mind. Currently the top thing on my mind was trying to finish my sandwich without choking, while Jodi cut down certain members of the student body who were sitting at the jock table less than three feet away.
“I mean,” Jodi continued, apparently not noticing I didn’t agree with her 110%, which was good because she is my best friend, and I really wouldn’t want her to think I was weird or anything. Just because I disagree with her doesn’t necessarily make me weird. It just means she needs to know who, what, where, and especially, why I disagree. Since I really wasn’t in the mood for her third degree, I kept quiet.
“If you have an endless night, doesn’t that mean it doesn’t end? So why would you need one hundred of them? Hello!” She did the eye rolling thing.
“Really, how dumb!” I didn’t really mean it, you know, because of the whole best-friend-who-I-want- to-avoid-confrontation-with thing.
I had no opinion on the subject. Yes, I know, I, Kate Sterns have an opinion on everything, which of course, I always keep to myself, unless provoked to express it that is.
But not this time.
No, this time I was opinion less.
I mean, I didn’t have a boyfriend, never have had a boyfriend, and at this rate, probably never will have a boyfriend. I didn’t have anyone who wanted to spend a night with me, let alone an endless one! Of course Jodi hadn’t had a boyfriend either, but she is prettier than me so she has a way better chance.
Looking at the jock table, I could tell they didn’t hear anything we were talking about, which was a good thing, not that they would listen to us anyway.
We were just the ordinaries.
We didn’t fit into any particular group. We could easily get lost in a crowd, and mostly we were forgettable. Or felt like we were forgettable.
“And Brad is a football player.”
“And that means…?” I had to ask.
“Just proves my theory about jocks. They may be cute and have nice asses, however, that’s all they have going for them,” Jodi snorted, put down the paper, and stabbed her salad with her fork.
The thing is, I would normally have agreed with her. That is until about two hours ago, when I found out I was failing third period Chemistry. Well, maybe failing is exaggerating, but when your teacher writes “see me after class” on a test paper, it can only mean one of two things:
1) He has the hots for you, which is totally against the rules and would not be cool, unless of course he is a young teacher who is totally hot, which might explain why you’re failing Chemistry, or
2) You’re failing Chemistry.
Let’s just say old Mr. “I’m lucky I can keep my teeth in my mouth even though I’ve seen a gazillion commercials for PoliGrip and I haven’t thought to buy the stuff” Blaneth is NO hottie, which eliminates option one.
Just as I thought; I was not doing well in Chemistry. I wasn’t exactly failing, but I was, as Mr. Blaneth said, “One atom away from an F”, whatever that means.
So he said “Get a tutor.”
A tutor! Oh there’s a great idea. My parents will love that.
“They have student tutors in the science lab every day.” He said that like he was reading my mind.
“Um, ok.” I started to walk out.
Only I didn’t get very far because as I was going out someone was coming in, and I ran right into the 6’4” captain of the basketball team, Steve Minder.
“Sorry, didn’t see you. You ok?” Steve grabbed my elbow to steady me. I knew he didn’t see me. No one does.
“Um, a-huh,” I said and could feel the heat rise from my neck straight up to my hairline. I also have no doubt my skin is turning bright red.
“Perfect timing, Steve,” I heard Mr. Blaneth say. “This is Kate. She needs a tutor.”
It’s embarrassing enough that I ran right into him, now my teacher is practically throwing me at him!
“Sure, my schedule’s posted in the lab,” Steve said, “check it out.”
“Yeah, um ok, I will.” I said and got out of there.
So you see, I couldn’t agree with Jodi about the whole jock’s being dumb thing, because Steve is a jock and obviously not dumb.
“Kate, are you listening to me?” Jodi asked from across the table.
“Um, yeah,” but I wasn’t.
“So you’re not mad about the Mum thing?” she said.
Mum thing?
Crap!
It totally slipped my mind, because of the whole failing Chemistry thing. I forgot it was Valentine Mum day. I hate Valentine Mum day.
Not that I hate Mums; they’re really very nice flowers.
It’s just that on Valentine Mum day, if somebody likes you, they buy you a giant pink Mum. Of course, it’s more of a popularity thing, but whatever. If you like walking around with like six giant Mums on your chest, which I don’t, then Valentine Mum day would probably be a good day. For me, it’s not.
“I was going to get you one, but Jodi said not to.” This came from Pete, my best guy friend and the light of Jodi’s life, even if he is oblivious to the fact.
“Really, it’s okay.” I forced a smile. The only thing worse, than not getting a Mum, is getting a pity Mum. Whatever, I had to run. Well, not literally run, as in track or anything, but run as in time for class. “I’ve got to go; Driver’s Ed waits for no one!” Driver’s Ed was on the other side of the building from the caf so I had to hurry. I did a quick deodorant check and realized I could use a refresher, but there wasn’t enough time before class for me to do anything about it. I’ll just keep my coat on; that’ll work.
Today was my day for “behind the wheel.” That’s what they call it at Wainscott High when you are actually out driving with the teacher. When I got to the car, Coach Grainer, my teacher, was talking to Steve Minder.
Coincidence or stalker?
I’ll go with coincidence since I am so not stalk-ee material.
I got in the driver’s seat and waited for the coach. He got in and I heard him say, “Get in.” I opened my mouth to say “I’m in,” but realized he didn’t mean me. He was talking to Steve. My mouth sna
pped shut.
“Let’s go.” Coach said.
It was raining. Not monsoon type rain, but stronger than a drizzle. I gripped the steering wheel, pulled out of the parking lot and was thinking this had to be against the rules. I mean you can’t just take anyone in a Driver’s Ed car, can you? What if I got distracted? Would I not pass the class? This was a real problem, because I totally was, distracted I mean. Whenever I looked in the rear-view mirror all I could see was Steve sitting in the backseat with the nicest brown eyes I’d ever seen. I blinked and tried to focus on the world outside the car.
Coach must have seen me eying the backseat because he said, “Got a big game Friday, wanted to strategize a little with Minder here.”
I nodded and drove; they strategized. This was fine with me. I thought Steve would be busy talking and not looking at me, but every time I looked in the mirror, there were his brown eyes looking back at me.
I was so going to melt.
Of course I didn’t, melt that is, because I was distracted by the sirens. They sounded like they were coming toward us. Then I heard more sirens coming up behind us. I um…I kind of panicked. Yeah, I panicked. But not as much as when I actually saw the squad cars heading toward us from both directions. Then I would have to say I was beyond panic.
“Make a right here, Sterns, and get out of their way.” Coach said.
I clenched the steering wheel and felt my stomach tighten. I don’t know if the coach knew that I was in a state well beyond panic. He didn’t sound like it and I couldn’t look over at him because I was not taking my eyes off the road.
I moved the car forward to follow his easy instructions. Easy, that is, if they were given to anyone other than me! The problem was quite simple; sometimes, when I get nervous, I get a little confused about the right and left thing. This, I found out, happens to other people, too. I know because I Googled it. I’m a Googleaholic.
I was totally nervous. I mean I thought I had done something really wrong, not to mention the really hot stowaway in the backseat.
I gripped harder trying to keep my sweaty hands from slipping off the steering wheel. I hit the gas and pulled the wheel hard to the left, instead of the right.
Coach totally did not expect this, since he told me to go right. It seemed like it took forever for this to register in the Coach’s brain, which gave me enough time to hit the gas again—hard.
Coach was slamming that extra brake on the passenger side that’s installed on Driver’s Ed cars; and our car started skidding.
I jerked the wheel back the other way, still sliding across the wet pavement like we were on ice, and stopped directly in the line of the police cars. Oh yeah, we also did a complete 360. This was actually kind of cool, except that is for the sirens and the cops.
I couldn’t help but think this day couldn’t get any worse. I was losing control of the car, my mind, and I guess, my mouth, too. I started babbling about Chemistry and Mums, and, oh yeah, the cute guy in the backseat, who doesn’t even know I’m alive. It really doesn’t matter because I’ll probably be dead soon anyway!
I prayed this wouldn’t affect my grade, although I knew it would. I mean who could make a mistake this huge and still pass Driver’s Ed? Not me, that’s for sure! I didn’t see that the car the police were chasing crashed into a fence and that the driver jumped out and was running full speed—in my direction!
The driver, or I guess now the runner, was looking behind him, instead of looking where he was going.
I just want to say that that is what normal people do; you know, look where they’re going. Before I even knew what was happening, the driver/runner ran smack into my car. He turned his head at the last second, ran right into the driver’s side door, banged his head on the roof and fell backward to the ground.
I’m totally sure he broke something.
I stared out the window. Now I’d really done it. Not only was I going to fail Driver’s Ed, but I think I just killed someone and I wasn’t even moving!
Is it still a moving violation if I wasn’t technically moving?
I dropped my head down against the steering wheel and closed my eyes. I fought the urge to pinch myself. Well, really, it could have all been a dream.
“Sterns, you ok?” I heard Coach say. Nope, I sighed, not a dream.
I just nodded my head yes; I knew if I said anything I would cry. That was just one more thing I couldn’t handle right now.
“Stay in the car,” Coach said and got out.
Outside on the ground was the driver/runner the police had been chasing. He was laying there with blood running from his nose. They rolled him over and put handcuffs on him, which to me was a good sign. Not for him, of course, but for me, because it meant I hadn’t killed him!
I heard a throat clear behind me and looked in the rear-view mirror, directly into the brown eyes I’d been staring at right before the accident.
Steve.
He was in the car, which means, he totally saw everything.
Chapter Two
“I wish Jarrod would forget half the things I said in anger. The other half I really meant.” — Heather Davidson
“So, that was interesting.” Steve said.
Interesting? What was interesting? The fact that I blurted out how cute I think he is or that I almost killed him!
“Oh, yeah, sorry I freaked out a little there.”
“No, I’m sorry if I made you nervous.”
I started to say that wasn’t true, but it would be a lie. I was pretty sure he would know it, so instead I just shut up. The driver’s door opened. Coach and the police officer were standing there.
“Sterns, you have to go down to the station and give a report to this officer.” Coach said.
“That you Minder?” The officer said sticking his face in the car. This actually was pretty rude as I had to jerk my head back to avoid being poked in the eye, and possibly blinded, by the officer’s large hat. Ok, maybe not blinding me, but still.
“Hey, Mr. Adams,” Steve gave a little salute. “Ready for the game on Friday? It’s going to be a big one, ain’t it?”
“Yes sir. If we win, we go to state.”
I looked at Coach. He was beaming. Was I the only one who realized some kind of accident just happened here?
“Excuse me,” I decided it was time to get the focus back where it should be, “why do I have to go to the police station? Can’t I just talk to you now?”
“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.” Officer Adams backed his head out of the car. “Since you are a minor a parent needs to be with you.”
“Slide over, Sterns,” Coach said, waving his hand at me. “I think I’ll drive back to school.”
As Coach got in, he reached down and picked something up.
“This yours?” he asked, handing a gold chain to me. I looked at the chain he dropped in the palm of my hand. It was plain gold with a circle pendant about the size of a quarter. Not exactly my taste, kind of tacky.
“Um, no. Maybe it belongs to the driver before me.”
“Well, drop it off at the lost and found for me when you go to the office, okay?” Coach asked.
“Sure.” I stuffed the chain in my coat pocket. We drove back to the school and I wondered what could be worse than to have your parents pick you up and take you to the police station. Well, you could end up standing naked in front of the whole school so everyone will know you really have no figure. They’ll find out that the reason you wear baggy clothes isn’t because you’re fat; this might not be such a bad thing except, of course, for the naked part. But then you would have to wonder why you were naked in front of the whole school which would be a whole new set of problems. Fortunately, we got back to school before I had time to think of them.
When I got to the office, I found out they had called my mom at work to come and get me. She works for a divorce lawyer, Mr. Mulberry, who hired my mom as a legal aide. My dad calls her a glorified administrative assistant, but I figure whatever, it makes Mom happy
and keeps her out of my business. Well, for the most part anyway.
When my mom showed up, she gave me a complete going over. She looked me up, down, and even had me turn around three times before she was satisfied I was unhurt. Even as she signed me out and we walked to the car, I could tell she was still checking me over. Her hands shook a little when she put the car in gear. I wasn’t sure if she was nervous or not too pleased to have to come and retrieve her fifteen, almost sixteen, year-old daughter to haul her down to the police station, which wasn’t actually all that bad, for being a police station and all. It turns out they were actually very nice, the police I mean. Mom had some coffee while we waited for the officers to come in and talk to us. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to give me a ticket—you know, the whole moving violation thing.
The first officer who came in was the one from the accident this afternoon; I didn’t recognize the other one. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, would I have to write everything down? Would they shine lights in my face? Yeah, I know, sometimes I can get a little dramatic. But really, as it turns out, all they wanted to do was talk.
Officer Adams was the first to speak, “We need to ask you a few things, for our report.” He sat down across from me and the other officer leaned against the door.
“Okay.” I was really trying not to be nervous, but hey, I was in a police station! Anyway, they got right down to business.
“Why did you turn? Didn’t you hear the sirens?” “Yes, I did but that’s what the teacher said to do. Turn, I mean.”
“Why didn’t you just stay where you were?” The other officer moved away from the wall and took a seat next to Officer Adams.
“Because my teacher told me to turn and get out of the way.” I tried not to look at the other officer. He was totally stressing me out. I could feel him staring at me.
“But you turned right into the way of the oncoming traffic?”