He shrugged into his backpack. “No problem. See you later,” he said with his own gotcha smile.
“Yeah, see you,” she said.
He hesitated, but nodded and started down the path.
He stopped and spun around. Catching her still watching him, his smile grew. “Brie, I know we kinda just met, but I thought maybe, if you wanted to go to the homecoming dance . . . I mean, do you wanna go to the dance? With me?”
“Homecoming dance? Um. I wasn’t planning on going.”
Does that mean no? He waited a few awkward seconds. “Don’t worry about it. I probably wouldn’t go if I wasn’t on the football team. It’s like an obligation for us,” he said, his smile diminishing. Okay, now what? He nodded, still watching her. “I get it, if you don’t want to go. But, if you change your mind, ya know, and end up there? Save a dance for me? I’ll go stag. Deal?” He waited.
“Deal.” She smiled.
“Okay, then.” Nodding, he took a step backward before he turned away.
Brie’s breath hitched as Jake disappeared down the trail. “So, what do you think, Roxy? I think I like him—more than a lot. Oh my God, why couldn’t I have just said yes? Yes . . . yes . . . ye—” Her message alert startled her. A slow smile spread across her face. The screen identified him as Dream Guy: Brie I’m glad you found my place
Her heart pummeling, she texted back: Me too
She wanted to say something witty or sweet, but couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t sound too cheesy or desperate, like Dream Guy? How did you know? Or, OMG you are.
She glanced back down the empty path.
Chapter 8
Brie boarded the bus the next morning, and when she looked down the rows of seats, Jake was already standing in the aisle, waiting for her. Maybe he’d been anticipating this bus ride as much as she had.
“Hi,” she maneuvered into their seat and tucked her long, silky hair behind her ear.
“Hey,” his eyes took a quick inventory. “You look good today.”
Barely holding back her smile, she gave him a teasing look.
“I mean, you looked good yesterday, too, but you look . . .” Furrowing his brows, he interrupted himself. “You know what? I’m gonna stop while I’m ahead. I am ahead, right? You don’t still think I’m bein’ a dick, do you?” he teased.
“No!” She blushed, still unable to believe she had worked up the nerve to say that in their Shakespeare class. “I don’t still think that, Benadick,” she whispered. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you? But, I don’t get why you were like that.” She settled into the bus seat next to Jake with her feet up on the wheel-well. “Explain it to me.”
He shrugged. “It’s not easy to say why exactly. Maybe I really am a jerk.” He turned toward her with his back to the aisle, blocking Becca’s view of them.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Come on, I was a total ass to you, for no reason. I prejudged you.”
“Prejudged me? How?”
“Fair question.” His forehead wrinkled, and he gave her a sheepish grin. “I prejudged you as being stuck-up.”
She leaned toward him. “And, now?”
“Now? Now, I know I had you all wrong. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she placed her hand on his arm. “I mean, I didn’t go out of my way to be nice to you, either.”
His eyes dropped to her hand.
She felt her face warm, and she pulled her hand back.
“Hey,” he said, meeting her eyes with his. “We’re good now, right?”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “We are.”
His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth and back again.
The ride was too short, over too fast. They walked together to her locker in an awkward silence, leaving the comfort they shared on the bus behind.
“Don’t forget, my table at lunch,” he took a couple slow steps backward, waiting for her response.
“I’ll be there,” she promised. When he turned, she watched him disappear around the corner, completely enthralled, until she realized other students in the hall had witnessed their exchange. Flustered, she turned toward her locker.
First period, Jake acknowledged her with a nod, but that was it. Closer to the door, Brie ducked out of the room at the end of class without waiting for him. Should she have? This was all new to her. Although first period seemed to take forever, the rest of her morning classes passed by in a blur. Off to Art class, she rounded the corner to the hall where his locker was, and spotted him facing the other direction, talking to a few buddies. She slowed, watching them. She wondered how he would react if she stopped, but then glanced at his friends and picked up the pace. One of the guys, facing her way, grinned and nodded in her direction. Brie looked away and hurried by.
“Brie!” she heard Jake call.
Her stomach did that flipping thing again. She looked back toward the group, hugging her books.
Jake trotted over to her. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked, standing close. He massaged the back of his neck, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands.
Brie looked from his friends back to him. Nothing new since the bus, she mused, looking up into his bright blue eyes. Except we have an audience, and my stomach is doing somersaults.
Before she could answer, he continued. “You, um, going to your Art class?”
She suppressed her smile. “Yep. Art class.”
He nodded, then whipped his head to the side, shaking his hair back off his forehead. “Yeah, uh, I just wanted to remind you . . . lunch . . . I’ll save you a seat across from me since I’ll probably get there first.”
She nodded. “I’ll be there.”
He looked down the now crowded hallway and then back at her. “All right, then. I’ll see you at lunch.” Locking eyes with her, he walked slowly away from her, backward. When he bumped into someone behind him, he steadied himself before his eyes met hers again, and both their smiles grew. A quiet giggle escaped her.
Still thinking about Jake, she dropped her books off in the wall cubby in the Art room. She paused, her eyes drawn to the aged wood shelves that contrasted with the rest of the state-of-the-art furniture in the room. Drifting, her fingers glided across the cubbyhole’s dark, smooth-worn wood. The ambient noise in the room faded, and she was alone. Another one of those flashbacks. The cubbies. They were the cubbies from kindergarten, before . . . before. She sighed. Before everything changed. She closed her eyes. Daddy, I miss you.
“Are you all right?” Mia asked, dropping off her own books.
“Huh? Yeah.” Brie withdrew her hand from the shelf and pasted on a smile. “Just spacing out.” She retrieved her work from her portfolio, sharpened her soft graphite pencil, and returned to her table.
Here in the Art room, more than anywhere else in the school, she felt like she belonged. There was nothing to prove.
Lorianne tore a square of paper and placed it in the center of the table. Each of the three girls dabbed her right thumb in a medium and pressed her print onto the paper, then all three turned their gaze on Brie.
“Look,” Ari said. “We hang in different groups outside this class. I mean, we don’t completely ignore each other. But, we made a vow in here, and we want you to be in on it. When we put our prints on a sheet, what we say at this table is only between us. Completely private, a trust group. What’s said here, stays here.”
“See?” Lorianne asked. She pulled her portfolio out of her drawer and pulled out a stack of squares, each containing three thumbprints in a variety of vibrant colors.
“You don’t have to share if it makes you uncomfortable,” Mia added. “But, you can’t spread what we say to anyone.”
“If you think that’s a problem, you should probably find another tabl
e,” Ari said.
Whoa. Wait, what? Brie looked from one girl to the next and back to the squares. She quickly dabbed her thumb in the magenta ink on Ari’s roller and pressed it on the paper. “So, whatever I say is private, just between us?”
They nodded.
“Okay,” she agreed.
Ari turned to Lorianne. “Well? You initiated.”
“Marcus asked me to homecoming!”
“Aww. I knew he would. But, it’s about time,” Mia said.
Lorianne’s brown eyes widened, and she shook back her long dark spiral curls. “I know, right? I mean, it’s next week. I just don’t want my dad to find out yet.”
“Why?” Brie asked.
“Her dad’s the football coach. Marcus is on the team,” Ari explained.
“And, my dad’s a little overprotective,” Lorianne added. “What about you, Ari? Are you and Greg going?” The girls glanced over at Greg, who was completely absorbed in his laptop, working on his digital images.
Brie followed their eyes to the guy who worked at a table by himself across the room. “Wait . . .” Brie looked from Ari to Greg, then back again, thinking it weird how Ari completely ignored him in class, yet flirted with him in the lunchroom.
Lorianne laughed. “You’d never know it by the way they act in here, but they’re hot and heavy.”
He must have sensed they were talking about him, because he looked up from his project with hooded eyes and a knowing smile right at Ari.
“So, you do go out with him?” Brie asked.
Still gazing at Greg, Ari bit her lips holding back a grin. “Yeah, I go out with him. We just promised Mr. McCullough that we would behave here in Art. You know, keep our distance.” She finger-quoted keep our distance. “He’s going to get Greg a paid summer internship with a graphic design company after graduation.” She sighed. “So, it’s hands off in Art.” Ari turned her attention to Lorianne. “And, to answer your question. No, Greg and I aren’t going to the dance. It’s not my thing.”
“Not your thing, or not his?” Mia asked.
Ari shrugged. “Either,” she responded. “What about you, Mia?”
Mia’s face turned a deep puce.
“Oh. My. God. Who?” Lorianne squealed. “C’mon, you have to tell us.”
Mia swallowed. “Um . . . Kal.”
“Wait a minute. Kal Akanu?” Ari’s eyebrows shot up.
“Hold on. No way,” Lorianne whispered.
“Way?” Mia said, timid.
“Kal?” Lorianne whispered again, then giggled. “Becca is going to flip out.”
Ari shoved the thumbprint square toward Lorianne who scowled back. “You know I wouldn’t say anything.” Then, Lorianne turned back to Mia. “So, do you like him?”
“Yeah, I do. He’s really sweet. Not at all like you’d think,” Mia blushed.
“So, you said yes?”
“No,” Mia whispered. She shook her head. “I told him I was already going with a group of friends.”
“Mia, if you like him, you should have said yes!”
“Jeez! Back off, Lorianne.” Ari’s eyes softened when she turned to Mia.
“Sorry.” Lorianne rolled her eyes and turned to Brie. “Has anyone asked you?”
Chewing her lip, Brie glanced at the square with the prints on it.
Ari caught the look. “Someone asked you? You’ve been here what? A week? Not even.” She grinned. “Come on. Tell us. You can trust us.”
“Okay, yes. I was asked,” she whispered.
“I knew you would be. There’s so much buzz about you,” Ari said, but there was no edge. She grinned at Brie. “There’re a bunch of snotty, jealous chicks out there.”
Buzz about me?
“Ohmygosh, who asked you?” Lorianne prompted, leaning across the table.
Brie hesitated.
“Come on, spill it,” Ari encouraged.
“Okay.” Brie leaned in closer. “A guy on my cross-country team, and this guy who rides my bus.”
“Who?” they asked in unison.
“Give us names,” Ari blurted.
Startled, Brie blinked. “Okay. Ryan Donnelly . . . and . . . Jake—”
“Jake Gordon?” Ari’s eyes widened.
Brie nodded at Ari. “Mm-hmm.”
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Lorianne collapsed back onto her stool, staring at Brie, her mouth agape.
Ari pushed the thumbprint square toward Lorianne.
“I know. I know.” She mimed zipping her lips, locking them, and then putting the key down in front of Ari, who smirked, then turned her focus back on Brie.
“Did he ask you yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Brie nodded at Ari. “Why? Does he have a girlfriend?” Please say no. Please say no.
Ari shifted on her stool, studying Brie, then shrugged. “Jake? He did. Sarah Fisher. They broke up last summer. Believe me, he’s totally over her, but she’s not over him.”
Brie’s eyes widened. “Sarah?”
“Well, what did you say? Are you gonna go with one of them?” Lorianne asked.
“I told them both no, that I wasn’t going.”
Ari’s hand landed on Brie’s arm. “Wait a minute, so you said no? To Jake?”
Brie looked back and forth between Ari and Lorianne and straightened on her stool, distancing herself from the other girls. Ari withdrew her hand, but Lorianne didn’t take the hint.
“I can’t believe you told Jake and Ry—”
Mia leaned across the table, tapping it. “Brie, you can come with me and my friends, if you want. You can ride with us or meet us there.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” Why couldn’t I have said that to Jake? I’ll think about it. “Oh . . .” Brie looked again at the thumbprint square.
Ari turned to Brie with a wry smile. “There’s more? Well, don’t hold out on us now.”
“Okay,” Brie pursed her lips and looked at her audience. “But, this is really weird. Ryan? He asked me if I would wear his shirt next Friday.”
“Whoa, back up.” Lorianne rolled her hands in reverse. “Ryan Donnelly asked you to wear his shirt?”
Furrowing her brows, Brie nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“Oh. My. Gosh. This just keeps getting better!” Lorianne squealed.
“Shh!” Ari scowled at Lorianne, then noticing they were attracting attention, she turned to her project.
“Okay,” Brie whispered, leaning forward. “I just thought the shirt thing was kind of weird. Why’s it such a big deal?”
“All right, so we have this tradition here at our school. The pre-homecoming bonfire is tonight, behind the soccer field,” Ari explained. “Next week is Spirit Week and homecoming. Anyway, Monday kicks it all off, everyone wears school colors or paints their faces. Spirit Week days are posted on the school’s website. It ends with the pep rally after the last lunch shift on the Friday of the Homecoming Game. So, on Friday, everyone wears a T-shirt or team jersey for their club or sport. The shirt has their last name on it. If you’re not in a club, sport, band, or anything like that, you just wear the school colors again, like on Monday.” She grinned at Brie. “Anyway, that shirt Ryan asked you to wear?”
“Yeah?”
“Guys give their team shirts to their girlfriends, or the girls they’re taking to the dance, to wear Friday for the pep rally. It’s like you’re claimed.”
“Well, I don’t care what you think. I’m wearing Marcus’s jersey,” Lorianne pouted.
Ari rolled her eyes. “Of course you are,” she said before turning back to Brie. “If they’re on the football team, they give their Away jersey to their homecoming date. The players have to wear their Home jersey to the rally.”
“I don’t get it. He asked me
that after I said I wasn’t going to the dance.”
Ari shrugged. “Maybe he just wants to go out with you, even if it’s not to the dance. Ryan’s an all-right guy. Lots of girls would do anything to be in your shoes right now,” she sniggered, “or his shirt, or in his—”
Mia squirmed and cleared her throat. “So, what did you tell him?”
“About the shirt?” Brie turned to Mia. “I just kind of laughed it off.”
“Ryan is so hot,” Lorianne sighed, dreamily. “And, Kelly is going to be pissed. She said he already asked her.”
“He did?” Taken aback, Brie shook her head. “Why would he ask me if he was already going with her?”
No one answered, but their gazes were sympathetic.
Brie took a shaky breath, looked at the thumbprint squares, and lowered her voice. “Kelly doesn’t need to know he asked me. I’m not going to the dance with him, and I’m not going to wear his shirt.” Brie looked back at the square with their thumbprints.
“No one will hear it from us,” Ari said. “Brie, if Kelly, or Sarah, give you a hard time, tell me.”
Brie nodded. Like that hasn’t already happened.
“Dresses,” Lorianne sang out, fluttering her hands. “What are you wearing? I’ve already gotten mine. It’s a bright red, scarlet cocktail dress with a halter-top.
“Scarlet, bright red?” Ari smirked. “That’s redundant, Lorianne. Anyway, I already knew you’d wear red. But, you decided on a short dress?”
“Actually, I got a long one too, just in case everyone else is wearing long dresses. The long one is so sleek, I’d definitely wear a thong with it.”
“Really? You worry too much about everyone else. Just wear the one you like best.”
Lorianne scowled at Ari. “I like them both. Why do you think I bought both of them? Besides, I can return whichever one I don’t use. Oh my gosh! My dad is going to freak when he finds out I’m going with Marcus.” She giggled. “Maybe I’ll even get to go to prom with him this year.”
Sublime Karma Page 7