Andrea and the 5-Day Challenge

by Cindy K. Green

  My fingers fumbled on the keys as I hit a B flat instead of B natural. I played a couple more chords, and then laid my arms over the keys and rested my cheek on top. A dissonant sounding tune emitted from the instrument. I had no head for music tonight. My mind resembled that of Swiss cheese with all these holes in it. I really should practice some more.

  When Dad got home, he’d want to know if I got my sixty minutes in. I mean, what was I going to do instead? Homework? Seriously, if I could make such a stupendous slip-up in front of my mother, what were the odds I could translate a page from Don Quixote?

  5

  October 18

  Day 2 of the challenge. OK, Lord, today is another day. I don’t want to complain or anything, but please, I could really use Your help. Honestly, I don’t even know how I am going to get through today after yesterday. I don’t think I can even step onto the campus. It’s all just too embarrassing. That performing arts school is starting to look pretty good. At least, I can start over and reinvent myself. Please, Lord, be with me today. Guide my steps, my words and my thoughts. And be with my parents as we decide about my future. Do you think I should go to that new school? Is that really Your will for my life?

  Nugget of Truth: Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.

  ~*~

  [Overhead announcement speaker]

  Hey Aubrey Warriors, it’s Superhero Day. Hope you’re decked out in masks and capes. And don’t forget to buy those homecoming tickets. It will be a night to remember. Written in the Stars. The SGA will be selling tickets during lunch and after school. Be there or you might miss out on the time of your life.

  “I just don’t understand, Andrea,” said Amy as we strode down the hall. “What’s wrong with Luke? Because there must be something hideous about him if you turned down his invite to homecoming.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Luke. In fact, that’s part of the problem. We just don’t mesh—not like that. We’re friends, I guess.” Oh, and he probably only asked me out of pity and I might be moving to a new school, so what does it matter, anyway? But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell anyone.

  I shifted my insanely heavy backpack to my other shoulder while watching Stephanie Ruiz surrounded by a pack of junior boys—many of whom sported masks and capes.

  “Now, Stephanie and Luke would be great together.” I nodded over toward the thin, popular girl in her black attire and cat-eared headband.

  Amy took a quick glance, and then grimaced. “Is your brainstem fully functioning? Steph and Luke would never work out. He’d be bored with her in like two seconds.”

  “And why would it be any different with me?”

  “You already said Luke thinks you’re funny.”

  “Oh, right, because that’s what a girl wants to hear—that she’s funny.” I raised an eyebrow and shifted my mouth into a slanted line. “I mean, I’m glad to bring some comic relief to Luke’s life, but come on. It’s just further proof that we are not meant to be; besides, the detail that I am not allowed to date until I’m eighteen.” A fact my mother plainly reminded me of yesterday.

  “Whatever, Andrea. You’re just making more excuses. Besides, homecoming is not so much about having a date as just having a fun time with all your friends. You know, fellowshipping with our brothers and sisters in Christ.” Her quirky smile did not express the same meaning as her words. When had Amy become such a mystery to me?

  I sighed and shifted my view to the end of the corridor where I spotted my locker—not that I could miss it since it didn’t resemble the locker I remembered at all. This locker had several yellow daisies poking out, looking all bright and cheery. My legs froze in place, and I couldn’t move a step closer. Who could have put flowers in my locker?

  That’s right! No one. No one would have the insane desire to send me flowers. I’m not Alisha. I’m not even smart like Amy, or artistic like Angie. No, I’m the boring one who plays piano and barely passes Geometry. This had to be a mistake.

  Amy, who continued walking down the hall, returned and grabbed my arm. Had she noticed the deer-in-the-headlights glaze about my eyes?

  “Andrea, come on. Someone obviously wants you to feel special today.” For a person of such small stature, she really had a strong grip. She forced me to take a step and we finally made it to my locker.

  Amy approached one of the daisies and took a whiff. “Hmm. It’s got a slight fresh scent, yet not overpowering.”

  “What? Are you here just for the flowers? Planning on writing a sonnet to the affect later?”

  “Andi!” Her tone denoted her shock, yet she smiled.

  “Sorry, Amy. I don’t even know what’s coming out of my mouth these days.”

  Amy glanced back at my locker and spied a piece of paper sticking out. She offered it to me with an even bigger grin. Why did the current state of my life enthrall her so much? If this had happened to her, I know I would be empathetic to her situation and offer my support. I would not be smiling the way she was currently smiling at me.

  I took the paper, only then realizing it to be a small envelope with my name on the front. I flipped it over to the sealed side, and then back to the front. So, this wasn’t a mistake? How could it not be a mistake?!

  Visions of Luke swam through my mind—his eyes, his laugh, his heart-stopping smile. Who was I kidding? This couldn’t be from Luke. Maybe Chuck Willis, since I had kindly hinted that he might want to forego the sandals from now on.

  “Open it.” Amy’s voice broke through my lunacy-induced trance.

  While swallowing down the blockage in my esophagus, I slid a finger under the envelope flap, and then removed the piece of paper inside.

  From a failure of a geometrist with a grateful heart. Enjoy your day.

  A mild mannered CK

  “CK? Who’s that?” Amy asked. “Don’t tell me you have another admirer?”

  I forced the note back into the envelope. “I don’t have any admirers.” Still, the idea of “CK” wrangled around inside my head. The only “CK” I could think of at the moment was one fictional hero—a mild-mannered reporter.

  If Luke showed up looking like my favorite superhero, I’d just melt away, never to be heard from again.

  “Well, looky there.” Amy lifted her glasses and peered down the hall before returning her specs back to her nose. “Is it me or does Luke look like a mild-mannered reporter type?”

  I glared at her.

  It was as though she read my mind.

  “It’s you,” I snapped back. Seven thirty-eight in the morning was way too early for all my synapses to be able to process this information. I was being rude and didn’t even know why.

  “He’s like your Romeo in cargo pants.”

  “He’s not wearing cargo pants. And don’t compare him to Romeo. That story is way too depressing.”

  “OK, then he’s Mr. Darcy come to sweep you away from your mundane existence.”

  “Amy, seriously, it’s time to lay off the romantic fiction. Besides, didn’t you tell me that crushes were for immature adolescents?”

  “Crushes maybe, but Luke might just be the one for you. You know, the One.” She did the quotes in the air thing to emphasize her statement.

  “Are you missing your macaroons or something? I’m only sixteen.” I must have been missing mine because I hadn’t used that expression since sixth grade. I covered my face with my hands.

  “Whatever, Andi. Here he comes. If you ask me, he’s trying to woo you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She tapped my shoulder before she traipsed away.

  I barely took notice of her absence because I had mere seconds before Luke Ryan arrived. He didn’t even give Stephanie a glimpse as he passed by her down the hall. His gaze remained focused on me. I swiveled my stance to face my locker and pulled out the daisies, forming a half-dozen bouquet in my hand. How did he know daises were my favorite? Had I mentioned it?

  More importantly, was Amy right?
>
  Could Luke really be trying to woo me like some totally romantic gesture straight out of medieval, courtly love? I must have accidentally inhaled window cleaner or something because that just wasn’t possible. His note had only been meant as a thank you. Yes, that was it. He’d even said just that.

  Sneaking a peek out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was almost upon me. My evil, impossible heart did a somersault in my chest. Oh, my gosh! Did I remember to put on deodorant this morning, because I was really starting to sweat. As if suffering from some horrifying form of hysteria, I stuffed my books into my locker as fast as I could. I had to get out of this hallway before he caught up to me.

  “Hi.”

  Too late.

  It was such a simple word and yet the sound of Luke’s voice made my knees weak. I really didn’t want to find myself in a heap on the floor. I swerved my head to the side and tried to smile. It would have been rude to ignore him.

  “Hi.” It was all I could say because, yes, Luke had dressed like the aforementioned CK. Other kids might not recognize him right away, but how could I not? There he was in a gray-colored suit and loosened blue tie with black-framed glasses in front of his stunning brown eyes and a felt-type hat on his head.

  Why had he chosen to dress like CK and even sign the note with those initials? I had totally dissed the whole superhero genre yesterday. How did he know I was totally full of it?

  He took a relaxed pose as he leaned into the lockers and crossed his ankles. With his index finger, he tipped his hat back, and a gorgeous smile crinkled his mouth and eyes. Was he trying to torture me?

  None of these thoughts were likely to make me articulate, added to the remembrance of what a marshmallow head I’d been during yesterday’s display. Before any other words passed between us, I dropped the flowers on top of my Spanish book, grabbed my Bible and Physics book—ready for homeroom and first period—and slammed the locker door.

  “Daisies,” he said. “I remembered you said you liked daisies.”

  “Um, yeah, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I didn’t know what to say after that. So instead of coming up with the slightest thoughtful response, I just continued my habitual faux pas in the presence of Luke. “Cute outfit. I’ll see you later. Gotta get to homeroom.” Then I turned and rushed down the hallway hoping against all hope he wouldn’t follow me.

  Five steps, six steps. I blew out a breath.

  He wasn’t following. Why wasn’t he following?

  Cute outfit? Had I really said that? (How lame am I?) No wonder he wasn’t following. Not that I wanted him to. All I wanted was to be left alone so I could suffer through another day of school and escape back home where my mom and dad had high hopes of me catching the attention of the performing arts school reps on Saturday.

  Could life get any better than this?

  ~*~

  Providence had been my friend today as I hadn’t had to face Luke since that embarrassing moment in the hallway. He’d even kept his distance after history class. Maybe I’d finally done permanent damage and he’d never speak to me again.

  What was wrong with me? I should have talked to him this morning. He was just being nice and taking the time to thank me for all my help in Geometry with the flowers. And all I could say was “cute outfit” before brushing him off and sashaying off to class? I’m a horrible person and don’t deserve as good a friend as he is.

  While sitting at lunch with my friends, I couldn’t even concentrate as Angie aired her consternation at the social injustice of some ill-concocted bylaw of the mayor’s. She’d even painted signs to picket city hall after school. This was just one of the many items Angie took notice of in this world. At times, she made me feel unworthy of being a citizen because there were just so many terrible things happening that I’d neglected to observe going on all around me.

  And yet, I had to admit I just didn’t care—at least enough. Sure, I wanted the orphans in Zimbabwe to hear the message of Christ and to have enough food to eat, and shelter from the cold at night. (It got cold at night in Zimbabwe, right?) But how could I concentrate when my life had taken such a sharp turn this week—before Amy hatefully hinted that Luke Ryan was just the person to ask to homecoming, and then this morning that he might be “the One”—my One. And good ‘ole Luke wasn’t making this any easier by leaving me notes and flowers and smiling at me the way he did before school. Not to mention the fact that I might be changing schools in less than two weeks!

  My life had trudged along with simplicity before yesterday. Boring it might have been, but I was used to boring. If I could just avoid Luke for two more days, then homecoming would be over and things might return to the mundane normalcy for which I craved. Ha!

  But normalcy was just not in the cards for me.

  Luke—minus the hat and glasses—had risen from his seat a few tables away and was coming right for us.

  I lowered my gaze back to my veggie burger on a wheat bun. Somehow, I had to take another bite and swallow it. Of course, to do so would certainly end in choking, and then someone would have to do the Heimlich maneuver on me. With all the craziness surrounding me, it would end up being Luke, which meant he’d have to roughly compress food out of my air passage and touch me in places I just wasn’t prepared to experience in the middle of the high school cafeteria. Instead, I sipped at my soda. Much safer.

  Luke sat backwards on the bench next to me and rested against the table. “Hi.”

  How could he sound so calm as if he came and sat at my table every day?

  I swallowed the liquid in my throat. “Hey.”

  “Looking forward to the rally?”

  The pep rally? I’d rather take a pop Geometry test. It was sad, but I really had no school spirit. However, I didn’t need Luke to know how apathetic I’d become. “Um, sure.”

  “Great, see you there.” How amazing was it the way his eyes could sparkle in any type of lighting? Then he rose to his over six-foot height, brushed his golden-brown bangs back from his wonderful eyes, and proceeded out the door with Dion and Mike.

  After dispelling a breath, I bravely turned to face my friends. I could just imagine what they were all thinking.

  With their mouths slightly ajar and bemused expressions in their eyes, they just stared at me for a good ten seconds before I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “OK, let’s have it.” I slammed my hands down on my lunch tray and knocked my soda over, soaking my veggie burger and said wheat bun in the process. What was wrong with me? I was acting like an insane person.

  Angie smiled—the one rife with suggestion. “All I can say is, he’s a charmer, that Luke Ryan.”

  She didn’t know the half of it, and I nearly sighed at the thought.

  “Watch out, Andrea,” Angie continued. “He’s the type who takes no prisoners.”

  I didn’t know exactly what she meant, but I could guess. Could Luke be the type of guy who once he made up his mind, it was set? This type of behavior rang similarly true to Mr. Darcy’s personality. An image of Luke appeared in my mind seeming very Darcy-like. Darn Mrs. Sims for forcing us to read that dreaded Pride and Prejudice in ninth grade and even more for Amy mentioning it this morning. Not that Luke thought of me in that way. My friends were wrong. Luke had no intention of wooing or charming me. Yeah, right!

  “Please, you guys, just forget it.” I covered my face. Maybe this way I could drive out those consuming images of Luke.

  “Andrea, just tell us what you think of Luke,” said Amy. “He seems to really like you.”

  I spread my fingers open and peered at them through the spaces, but didn’t say a word. How could I tell them that Luke couldn’t possibly like me as more than a friend and had only asked me to homecoming because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings? He’d even said I might go if I had a ”friend” to go with. Not that there was anything wrong with that…exactly.

  Alisha, the keen observer, spoke at last. “If you ask me, I think he sees you a
s one big challenge.” Alisha had the most experience with boys and had even gone out with Troy Miller for two years until he graduated last year. She should know what she was talking about, but I couldn’t accept it.

  I laid my hands on the table. “I’m not a challenge. You guys know that. There is nothing interesting about me.”

  “I think Luke would beg to differ,” Angie broke in. “I say go for it.”

  “Andi, stop selling yourself short,” said Amy. “‘Faint heart never won fair lady…er…boy’. That’s Cervantes…kinda. Remember, from Don Quixote?”

  They really were going to kill me. Now Amy had lowered herself to quoting Cervantes from Spanish class just to get a response? She’d tried a lot of things on me, but this?

  How had my life become so fraught with drama?

  6

  I made it to the football field with the pep rally in full force. Cheerleaders were screaming and stirring up the crowd just as they’re supposed to do…I guess.

  Where had Luke disappeared off to? I’d only subjected myself to all this school spirit among students dressed as ridiculous superhero wannabes because he expected me. Otherwise, I would still be ensconced in the caf, reading a book or talking with Amy.

  Speaking of my supposed friends, they were at the rally, too. For some reason, they all thought it their duty to be here today. Now, Alisha I could understand. She’d been a cheerleader during freshman and sophomore year and attended lots of school activities. She’d even agreed to go with Mike McCutcheon (one of the football players) to homecoming.

  Angie, on the other hand, despised anything school sanctioned to the point of picketing certain events she deemed offensive to womankind.

  Amy and I were just sort of indifferent to school activities. Even though Amy is editor of the school paper, she doesn’t get too involved and believes in delegating assignments. We might go to a basketball or football game if there was nothing else to do, and we did attend the spring musical last year. Amy was reviewing it for the paper, after all.