by June Sproat
“Humph,” was all I could think to say. “I’m asleep, stop bothering me.”
Of course I like him. I mean, he’s hot, nice, sweet, and did I mention, he’s hot?
But what’s the point? I mean there is no possibility he likes me. He’s a senior and I’m just a sophomore, which is not unheard of, except when one of the parties involved is me. Throw in my totally gangly figure, and the fact I basically told him off for no reason, yep, seems like a winning combination to me!
I wouldn’t be surprised if he never spoke to me again. But then again, he has to; he’s my tutor, well, at least he’s my tutor for another week!
Chapter Nine
“I wish I’d spent more time working on the friendships I would have forever, rather than on academics. I mean, it’s over after four years anyway, right?” - Lauren Bishop
“I have a test on Wednesday,” I said when I arrived on Monday for my tutoring session. I didn’t see him in the caf that morning, since I didn’t go to the caf.
Was I avoiding him?
Definitely.
“Oh, I see you’re talking to me.”
Okay, I totally sensed sarcasm in his voice, but I, being the bigger person, well not literally bigger, ignored it.
“Yes, well, I have to. After all, you are my tutor.” I tried very hard not to look at him directly. I didn’t want him to see how embarrassed I was.
“Is that all I am?” he asked. I glanced up. He had that one eyebrow shooting way up!
Oh, my, God. What did he mean by that? Was this some secret guy way of trying to find out if I liked him?
“Well, I don’t know, is it?” I asked back.
Ooooh that was a good comeback. I was even impressed with myself.
“Well I would like to think we’re friends, too,” he said and leaned forward across the desk.
I was hoping for a different answer, but that one will do.
“Of course, we’re friends,” I said, “I mean, I hope so, but after the way I treated you on Friday, I really wasn’t too sure.”
“Yeah, you really are a hothead, aren’t you?” he said, but then he smiled, “I’m sure your boyfriend really enjoys that.”
“My what?” I asked and raised both my eyebrows. Two eyebrows I can do, one, nope.
“Your boyfriend. Oh wait, don’t tell me you don’t have a boyfriend?” he raised his eyebrows back at me.
“Um, no. I don’t,” I said, my cheeks felt like they were on fire.
“Well, Wheels, I’m surprised. I really am. I figured someone as feisty as you would be grabbed up already.”
“Um, no.” I looked down at my hands. I think he sensed he was making me uncomfortable, because he changed the subject.
“Listen, forget about Friday. I was out of line; I should have just left you alone,” he said.
“No, really it was me. Jodi pointed that out. You know she is very good at pointing out my faults. Anyway, I really should thank you. I understand things got pretty interesting after we left.” I tried to apologize, but somehow I think I fell short.
“Well, if you consider a couple of broken noses and the police being called interesting, then it was.” He shifted and turned toward me. “Let’s just focus on you…well, not you, your test. When is it again…Wednesday?” He looked away from me and started to flip through my Chemistry book.
Did he just blush? No. I don’t believe it. And did he say, focus on you as in me? I bet it was just a slip, yeah, a Freudian slip maybe…hopefully.
I’ll have to check that on Google tonight.
I made a mental note to myself to surf the internet about how you know if a guy likes you.
Steve didn’t say another word about Friday, and I tried to concentrate on Chemistry. Too bad I was concentrating on a chemistry that was different than what he was teaching.
****
After dinner I turned to my personal research and Googled my request: “How to know if a guy likes you?”
Cyberspace, the information highway. What an understatement! I was bombarded with information, but found what I needed. Exactly what I needed!
You know a guy likes you if he sits close to you, tries to make you laugh, likes to be close to you or in your space, is nervous while talking to you (hands, eyes, voice...usually you can notice because he’s doing too much), or is usually looking at you
And then there is the ultimate sign he likes you…he touches you accidentally or gently on the arm, shoulder, hand... Hand, see, hand! He so did that.
Okay, so Steve had done at least two of those things. If I find only two things, does that count? I mean I could look for more, but why bother, this was enough for me.
I thought about emailing Jodi to let her know what I discovered, only I had been instant messengering her for the past twenty minutes and she didn’t reply. She must not be on the computer.
The phone rang, it was Carrie Johnson. I completely forgot about the article she wanted to do. I was going to see if I could find out more information about Roger Dawson, but the whole Steve possibly liking me took all my time.
Carrie asked me about the accident again, and I told her about it again. I almost wish I had written it all down, and then I could just hand it out to people instead of repeating it over and over and wasting my time. Then again, the attention really didn’t bother me so much anymore. I was getting kind of used to it.
“Are you going to want a picture for the paper?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. If we do, I can just use last year’s yearbook photo,” Carrie said.
“Oh gosh, no way. That picture is awful. I’ll get you one, when do you need it by?”
“I have to check with my editor and see if he wants a picture. I’ll let you know. Thanks, bye,” she said and hung up.
I doubted I would hear from her. I mean, she was supposed to be doing an article on me, why wouldn’t she jump at the chance for a photo?
Chapter Ten
“I wish someone would donate a fashion book and clearly mark the fashion don’ts. There are way too many of them in this school.” — Jacquelyn Davis
The next morning was the worst day ever. My hair was just hopeless! Why do I have to have such wavy hair? It never, ever, ever does what I want it to! “Kate, you better hurry; you’ll miss the bus,” my mom hollered up.
I glanced over at the clock. Seven-fifteen. WHAT! Seven-fifteen!
Crap, the bus would be here in fifteen minutes and I’m not even dressed yet! No more time to think. Grab clothes. Jeans. I need a shirt. Crap! I knew there was something I forgot to do last night— laundry! Wait, my mom bought me a new shirt. Where is it? There, on the dresser. Grab it, dash to the bathroom. Okay, five minutes until the bus comes. Brush teeth, grab hair stuff, I’ll try to fix my hair at school. Shoes. Where are my shoes? Front door! That’s right; my shoes are by the front door by my backpack. Bus is here. Good. I made it.
“New top?” Jodi asked when I took my seat next to her on the bus.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” “The tags still on.”
Crap. I pulled it off.
“What’s with your hair?”
“I overslept. I’m going to fix it at school; you know, throw it up in a braid or something,” I said.
The hair didn’t seem to be that big of a deal, but Jodi seemed surprised about the shirt. It’s not that the shirt was ugly; I thought it was kind of nice. It wasn’t actually a shirt, it was more of a sweater and a little tighter than the clothes I normally wear. I mean my mom always buys my correct size in clothes. I usually get at least a size or two bigger, you know, the baggier look. I feel less self conscious in baggier clothes. But this one seemed to fit. Fit as in you could actually make out the little bit of figure I had. Well, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.
My hair, of course, was a different story. I usually try to put it up, you know to keep it out of my eyes, but today, due to lack of time, I just had it down. It was wavy because I had it in a braid last night, and when I took the b
raid out, well, it was just long and wavy. Normally, you couldn’t really tell how long my hair was because it’s always up.
“Well, it certainly fits the new you,” Jodi said as we got off the bus.
“New me? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, forget it.”
Okay, that was weird. But, whatever.
****
I needed to grab something to eat, and as unfortunate as it is, it was going to have to be the breakfast bar again.
“Oooh, I like your hair!” Jackie raved when I walked into the caf. This, of course, caused the rest of the pack to take notice and chime in. “Um, oh, thanks,” I said.
“How did you do that with your hair? It’s so cute!” Becky asked.
“Can you do mine like that?” Andrea asked
“I just put it in a braid last night while it was wet.” Self-consciously, I touched my hair.
“You are so lucky. I did that once and all I got was frizz,” Jackie said
“Yeah, she looked like a giant Brillo pad!” Bobby added, and then Jackie promptly elbowed him in the stomach, which made him almost fall off his chair. This made everyone at the table laugh. I’m not sure if it was because of the Brillo comment or because Bobby almost fell off his chair.
I went to get in the cafeteria line. At some point between the bus and the caf, I lost Jodi. She was doing that a lot lately, you know, just dropping out of sight. It was odd. I always used to know where Jodi was. We were ordinaries; we always saw each other.
Lately it seemed like Jodi just couldn’t see me.
The bell rang and the caf emptied out. Crap! What was wrong with me today? I still had to get to my locker before class.
I made a mental note to myself that I had to stop for a deodorant refresh as often as possible; this was going to be a long day!
****
“Hey, I wasn’t sure you were coming today,”
Steve said when I finally showed, ten minutes late. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I had to stop to…to get something from my locker,” I wasn’t about to tell him I had to stop and refresh my deodorant before I saw him.
“You look nice. I really like that sweater,” Steve’s eyes went from my head to, well, my torso where the table came up to me, and then back up to my face.
“Oh, thanks. It’s new,” I said. Yeah, like he really cared it if was new or not.
But, did he really just look at my chest or did I imagine it?
“Well, I like it, and your hair looks great, too.” Steve still kind of stared at me.
I could feel the heat creep into my face. Good thing I made that deodorant stop.
Good thing I didn’t put my hair back up in the braid!
“Um, could we go over something?” I asked, which I think finally broke Steve’s concentration, because he kind of jumped a little, like someone snapped their fingers in front of his face. I wondered if he got up late, too, because he had a little bit of stubble, like he didn’t have time to shave.
“Yeah, sure,” he grabbed my Chemistry book. “Well, can we go over balancing chemical equations? They really seem to be stumping me.”
“Yeah, you aren’t the only one; I had trouble with them in the beginning, too. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve scooted his chair closer to me. He put his left hand on the back of my chair, and with his right hand, he wrote out the equations in front of me.
This, however, made concentration almost impossible because he was close to me, and he smelled really good.
My mind wandered; I couldn’t help it. The only chemical equation I was thinking about was the one that included me plus Steve. I wondered what it would feel like if he kissed me. Would the stubble scratch or tickle? Would I like it or hate it?
“And now the equation is balanced. Well, what do you think, pretty easy now, huh?” Steve asked, but, of course, I had no clue what he had just said.
I felt my face get hot again.
“I am so going to fail this test,” I said.
Honestly, I was going to fail. Well, not on purpose, but let’s face it, I have not learned anything since he has been my tutor. Well that’s not true, I have learned some things.
I learned my hair looks good wavy and I look better in clothes that fit me rather than hang on me. I also got my confirmation that not all jocks are dumb; however, that should really be a lesson for Jodi. I mean that’s what I told her from the very start. She’s the one who didn’t agree with me. I need to make sure to tell her that whenever I saw her next.
Pretty good for less than a week of tutoring. Well at least I think so.
“I hope you don’t fail,” Steve said. “That won’t make me look very good now, will it?”
Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Crap, I can’t make him look bad! Now I will really have to cram tonight.
“I won’t let you down.” I promised.
I made another mental note to myself to Google ‘Chemistry help’. There has to be something out there. I hope. Please, let there be something!!
“I don’t have any doubts. Well, if I don’t see you, good luck on the test!” Steve got up.
“Oh, you really do look nice today.” He said almost as an afterthought.
“Um, thanks.”
I…was…so…dead!
Which is exactly what I was thinking about as I sat in the car in Driver’s Ed. About how dead I was going to be, I mean. Because not only was I going to totally fail the Chemistry test, I was going to let Steve down.
Chapter Eleven
“I wish someone would return my gym shorts they stole freshman year as a prank. Pranks are just stupid.” — Stuart J. Wagner
We had a new car for Driver’s Ed, well not a new, new car, just a loaner because the other one was being fixed.
“Busted window,” was all Coach said when Tom and I got inside.
“Strange, ‘cause nothing was missing from the car. Didn’t even try for the radio. Just busted the window,” Coach never lifted his head from looking at the clipboard in his lap. “Probably just some punks who didn’t know it was a Driver Ed car. You’d think the big yellow ‘Student Driver’ sign on the roof might give it away!”
I though about that. I had to agree with the Coach. It probably was just a prank, but it still seemed odd. I mean, who would want to mess with a Driver’s Ed car?
With Tom there today, I would drive second, which gave me time to sit in the backseat and frantically try to study my Chemistry. This it seems was not what Coach wanted to see when he looked back at me.
“Sterns,” he growled “you’re supposed to be paying attention. Tom here might make a right turn and you can see how it’s done.”
I forced a laugh, and when I say forced, I really mean forced. My lips parted but my teeth remained tightly closed.
Did I really have to be reminded every time I saw Coach about my inferior driving abilities? Well, if I looked at things from his point of view, maybe I would feel the same. I guess if my life passed before my eyes at the hands of a student driver I wouldn’t be so forgiving and jump right back into the car with them. For this reason alone, I forgave his dumb humor.
Coach struggled to turn under his vice-like seatbelt and looked over his shoulder. “Chemistry, huh? One of my players had a hard time in that class but he got some tutoring and ended up with an A. Maybe you should try that.”
“Um, yeah, that’s a good idea. I might have to try that,” I said. Was it Steve? Should I ask? Did Coach mention it, the tutoring thing, to bring up Steve? Did Steve say something to him? I mean, obviously Steve knows that Coach is my Driver’s Ed teacher; did he ask about me? Oh God, what if they talked about me and laughed over the whole accident thing? I mean Steve never mentioned it to me; he kind of acted like nothing happened that day, which I thought was really very sweet. But now, what if they were talking about me behind my back?
I just wanted to die!
Thankfully the rest of the driving lesson was uneventful. Well, that is unless you consider the conversation
I had with Tom uneventful.
As we walked back into school, Tom said, “Hey Kate, you look really nice today.”
And I was like, “um thanks.” But then he said, “how come?”
“How come what?” I asked, because I really didn’t know what he meant.
“How come you look so nice? You normally look kind of…I don’t know…drab?”
DRAB! That is exactly what he said. DRAB!
“Oh, really?” was all I could think to say as I was, after all, in the state of shock!
That’s why I cornered Jodi in the locker room. “You have to tell me what looks so different about me,” I said to her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Come on, Jodi. Everyone keeps telling me I look really good today, like before today I always looked like crap or something!”
Okay, maybe they didn’t think I looked like a slob or anything, but really I have never received so many compliments in one day before.
So when Jodi stood there, looking at me from head to toe, I got a little impatient.
“Come on, Jodi, even Tom, you know my Driver’s Ed partner Tom, said I looked nice. There has to be something!” I pleaded.
“Well, I don’t want to embarrass you, but well, that sweater just kind of makes your boobs stand out,” Jodi said.
I said nothing. I turned and walked to the end of the lockers, and looked in the mirror. It did. It totally did. You could actually tell I had boobs. I mean I always knew I had boobs, but I just never, you know accentuated them before. I almost squealed with delight.
Whoa, where did that come from? I shook myself and walked back by Jodi.
“Do you really think that’s it; I mean why the guys are saying I look nice?” I whispered.
“Well, at least that’s what Peter said this morning when you rushed in and out of the caf. He came right out and said ‘Why’s Kate trying to show off her boobs?’ I was a little peeved because Peter never notices anything, but I tell you, he noticed you all right,” Jodi said.
“Peter said that?” I asked very surprised because this was Peter. Peter, who I have known since the fourth grade, and didn’t think he even noticed that I was a girl, let alone that I had boobs. Peter, who Jodi has had a crush on since like the sixth grade, and whenever she would dress up she would ask ‘do you think Peter will notice’ and he never did. So for him to say anything about the way I looked, well, that had to be the reason. For the compliments, I mean.