Call Me Crazy

by Quinn Loftis

  “How’s it going, Stillwater?” Jordan smiled as he loped into the room and slung his book bag to the side of his painfully uncomfortable metal-and-wooden desk behind mine. He was dressed in worn blue jeans and a black T-shirt. His blond hair was tousled on top of his head from the recent sprint from his previous class. It still looked good. No, more like perfect. His green eyes pierced through me as his dimpled and gleaming white grin took my breath away. OK, stupid, it’s time to say something. What was it that he just asked me? Crap!

  “Um, hey, I didn’t see you at Jessica Jacob’s party last weekend. Did you find something better to do?” I teased awkwardly, at a loss for words.

  Jordan laughed, not missing a beat. I have no doubt he realizes that he drives me crazy. This can’t be healthy; still, I persist, being the masochist to love that I am.

  “Nah, we heard it was gonna be lame so we crashed Gracie’s place instead. Her parents were out of town,” he replied nonchalantly.

  Great! My favorite person, Gracie Henderson, Little Miss Perfect, weaseled her way into Jordan’s weekend effectively canceling me out. Gracie’s been getting one up on me more often than I care to admit these days.

  “Oh, um, well, how was that?” I asked tightly, not wanting to show my annoyance and not really wanting to hear his reply.

  “Awesome!” he nodded enthusiastically. “Everyone was there. Why didn’t you come? I missed you,” he said sincerely.

  OK, this is an improvement. He noticed that I wasn’t there. Maybe he was looking for me. Maybe he had wished that I had been there. I looked up to see that he was staring at me and it finally dawned on me that he was waiting for my reply.

  I straightened up and snapped out of my trance.

  “Oh, well, you know, I didn’t want to let Jessica down. It was her birthday and all.” I explained lamely, not wanting to admit that I had not been invited, would never be invited, to a party being thrown by the one person who seems to hate me more than anyone else in the entire world.

  I’ve often wondered what Gracie has against me. For the life of me I can’t come up with a single reason. I’ve never done anything to her. Actually, that’s a lie. I know exactly why Gracie doesn’t like me, but it would not be politically correct to voice my opinion on this matter. I am, after all, already the underdog here. My father isn’t white, and this fact doesn’t sit well with some people. It really sucks and I wish everyone would just grow up and get over it. Well, no use crying about it, I guess. It won’t change anything.

  Just as the bell was about to ring, the devil herself sashayed into the classroom.

  “Hi, Jordan!” she squealed. “It was so great that you could make it to my party last Saturday. It was so much fun, wasn’t it? I mean, everyone who was anyone was there, right?” she droned on.

  Don’t think I didn’t catch that last jab either. She eyed me meaningfully when she uttered it so sweetly.

  “Oh yeah, man! Your party totally rocked.” Jordan nodded. “Let me know when you decide to play host again.” He winked before he shifted around in his seat to face Laura Rice. “Hey Laura,” he whispered, “did you finish you’re calculus homework last night? Can I copy it?” he grinned mischievously.

  “Sure thing, Jordan.” She agreed easily, pulling her homework from her bag.

  I bet Jordan has yet to do a single calculus assignment this year. As Jordan smiled at Laura, or her homework, Gracie’s expression fell. Her glance drifted to Laura and conformed into a scowl. Laura remained oblivious, still entranced by Jordan’s charms. Dang! Gracie must have it bad for Jordan to be jealous of Snora- Laura. We’re talking major borefest personality. Get a grip, Gracie!

  OK, I know, that was mean, and being mean isn’t usually my style. Maybe Laura isn’t so bad, maybe she’s just shy. She’s good at calculus. There, I said something nice about her, so why do I still feel like a total hag? I don’t mean to be cruel; it’s just that Gracie always makes me feel like a loser. She thinks she’s better than me, so much so that sometimes I begin to feel like she might be right. She really gets under my skin, you know?

  “So, Laney, how was Jessica’s party?” Gracie turned her venom on me.

  Sure, her voice was friendly enough but her eyes held the paralyzing and hypnotic stare of a cobra ready to strike.

  “Oh, it was great!” I smiled cheerfully.

  I lied. Gracie rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I heard it sucked!” she hissed, no longer attempting to hide her malice.

  On that note, we all shifted uncomfortably in our seats and focused our attention toward the English teacher who was beginning the day’s lecture. Yet again, I was saved by the institution of public education.

  After English class Jordan walked with me to our Spanish classroom. During our stroll he remained unusually quiet for about half the distance.

  “So, Laney, do you have plans for this weekend?” Jordan voiced shyly.

  OMG! He was asking me out! OK, take deep breaths and don’t pass out.

  “Um, no?” I responded awkwardly.

  I was completely caught off guard by his inquiry.

  ”Oh, well um, how would you feel about going to see a movie with me?” he continued.

  “Great! What movie?” I agreed without hesitation.

  Only then did I realize that perhaps I shouldn’t sound so eager. My doubt was immediately remedied, however. As soon as my words were uttered, I observed Jordan’s shoulders and gait relax and return to his normal easy posture.

  “Really?” Jordan breathed with relief and surprise.

  “Um… Yeah, what movie?” I persisted, entirely surprised and thrilled by his reaction.

  Surely, he knew I would say yes. What idiot wouldn’t?

  “Awe, wow! I totally thought you would say no.” He continued to confound me with his delusional response. “I mean, I’m totally psyched that you want to go out with me. I’m just surprised, I guess,” he jabbered on, finally explaining his uncharacteristic behavior.

  “Why?” I wondered.

  “Because you never do.” He shrugged.

  I raised another clueless eyebrow at him.

  “You never say yes when guys ask you out,” he clarified.

  “So, what, is this like an experiment or something?” I worried.

  Get the freaky Indian girl to go out with you! Were they taking bets? Was money exchanged?

  “No, I promise it’s not like that at all. I really like you, Laney. The truth is I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time, but I didn’t because all the guys said you would say no. I was too chicken. You know, afraid of rejection?” he admitted sheepishly. I smiled, both satisfied and flattered by his response. Jordan immediately relaxed again and ran his fingers through his golden locks. “So, why do you always say no… to the other guys, I mean?” he wondered.

  “Because I think they’re a bunch of creeps.” I answered honestly.

  It’s true. Most boys at Plymouth North find me to be more than easy on the eyes, but I’m not easy, and I know their intentions don’t progress beyond their hormonally-driven male instincts. What I mean to say is, none of them would take me home to meet their mothers, if you can catch my drift. The sad fact is, my caramel complexion would not be overlooked or accepted.

  Jordan’s shocked expression was so comical I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. At my knowing reaction he quickly and ever so smoothly collected himself.

  “You’re a handful, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

  “Maybe…” I said coyly.

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  ONE

  It was a case of mistaken identity.

  The kind that ended with appalled, parted lips and evil glares.

  The worst kind.

  The girl was cute enough. Cute wasn't the problem nor the solution for me. I needed to blend and be invisible in the most plain-as-day way and girls like this, girls who just walked up to guys because they had hope somewhere deep inside them that I would fall for that pretty face were the opposite of plain-as-day. Those kinds of girls got guys killed. At least the kind that were on the run.

  She had mistaken me for a normal guy.

  And this girl who approached, who could see that I was already surrounded by two, which was more girls than I knew what to do with, must've thought I had a hankering for something sweet. Because when she spoke, her words were soft and almost made me want to get to know her instead of send her packing. But I couldn’t stay in this town. It was better to hurt her now when she wasn't invested than it would be to leave one day without a trace.

  The girls who were currently soaking up my attention - that they thought they had - they'd move on to their next prey and forget I ever existed. But sweet girls got attached and asked questions.

  Don't stop running…

  I swallowed and stared bored at her as she finally made her way to me from across the hall. She tucked her hair behind her ear gently and smiled a little. "Hi, uh, can I just-"

  Showtime. "Honey, that's real sweet, but I'm not interested." I slid my arm around one of my groupies. I didn't even know her name, but they were always within arm's reach. "As you can see I have my hands full already, but thanks for offering."

  She scoffed and looked completely shocked. I took her in, head to foot. She was cute. She had a great little body on her and her face was almond shaped. He lips looked…sweet. She was not the kind I wanted within ten feet of me. She was still standing there. I had to send her packing.

  I grinned as evilly as I could muster and felt a small twinge of guilt at the vulnerable look of her. I looked away quickly. I didn't even want to remember her face. "Run along, sweetheart. Go find a tuba player, I'm sure he's more your speed. Like I said, I'm not interested."

  She didn't glare, and that was a first. Most of the girls who approached a guy were confident, I mean that was the reason they thought they had a chance, right? But she looked a little…destroyed. When her lips parted, it was in shock, it was to catch her breath. I continued my bored stance, though at this point, it pained me in my chest.

  But I was doing the best thing for this and any other girl. People who got involved with me were collateral damage when Biloxi came around. He was a ruthless bastard and if he found me and knew someone cared about me, or worse, that I cared about someone, he'd be all over them.

  So when she turned without a word and swiftly made her way down the hall, I was thankful. I probably saved her life, though she had no idea. She thought I was an ass, but I was really looking out for her. That's what I told myself as I watched her go. That I had hurt her feelings for a reason, and that she'd get over it.

  A slender hand crawled over my collar.

  "What's this from?" she asked in a purr and slid her thumb over the long scar from my ear all the way to my chin. "Mmm, it's so sexy."

  It followed my jaw line and it was not sexy. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time some girl had said as much and it pissed me off to no end that they thought that, let alone said it out loud.

  It was my reminder of what happened when I let my guard down and it was anything but sexy.

  I bit down on my retort and sent her a small smile that showed her I was listening, but she had to work for my attention. "Is that right?"

  "Mmhmm," she said and kissed my jaw. "I have a little scar, too." She pointed to the place between her breasts. "Right here. Wanna see it?"

  I managed a chuckle. "Is there really a scar there?"

  "Pick me up tonight and you can find out," she purred, making her friend giggle.

  "Don't think so. Busy."

  "Ahhh, boo." She pouted and let her other hand hook a finger into my waistband. "Well here's something to keep you company tonight."

  And then she pulled me down by my collar and kissed me. I tried not to cringe away, but her lip gloss was sticky and sweet. When she tried to open my mouth with her tongue, I pushed her away gently with my hands wrapped around her bony arms.

  "Let's keep this PG, honey. Settle down."

  She giggled. I knew she would.

  It was the last week of school. It was my last week to pretend that I was still in high school. The next time I made a move to evade Biloxi, I'd enroll in college because I was getting too old to be a high schooler. I didn't know where I was going. I would have graduated from high school already, but at the rate I was going, I didn't know if I would have actually graduated or not. School was not a place of learning for me, it was a cover, a place to blend in and be normal until Biloxi found me and then I'd be gone to the next place.

  This was my life. No time or want for girls, no parties, no movies, no parents.

  This was my life, but it wasn't a life at all.

  Six months and one lonely birthday later

  College towns sucked.

  The big one.

  I had only been here for a couple of weeks. It was part of my cover. I practically chanted those words in my mind as I trudged everywhere I went and worked my butt off. But one thing remained the same. Desperate girls ran rampant and I still wasn't interested. Every once in a while, they were good for a distraction if need be, but mostly…not interested. There was this one chick, Kate, who would not take no for a answer. She'd 'found' me over the summer when I was apartment hunting and hadn't 'lost' me yet, no matter how hard I tried. To get her to go away one time, I'd even given her my phone number. I was going to ditch it in a couple weeks anyway when I undoubtedly had to move again, so it didn't matter, right?

  Wrong.

  The girl was as annoying as a Chihuahua all hopped up 'cause there's a knock at the door. The texting and come-hithers were nonstop.

  And now, as I stared out into the dark rain to see a POS car sideways in the road, I knew the world hated me, had to, because someone had just smashed her car into my truck.

  I got out and braced myself. It wasn't easy to pay cash for new cars every time I needed to skip town. It was hard living when you couldn't be who you really were. Finding people to pay you under the table was almost impossible these days.

  I groaned and glared at the beauty standing at the end of my truck. "Look at that!"

  "I'm so sorry," she began. I could tell she really was, but I was beyond pissed. "I'll call my insurance company right now."

  That stopped me. "No!" I shouted and she jolted at the verbal assault. "No insurance."

  "Well," she pondered, "what do you mean? I have good insurance."

  "But I don't."

  She turned her head a bit in thought and then her mouth fell open as she realized what I was saying. "You don’t have any insurance, do you?"

  "No," I answered. "Look. Whatever, we'll just call this even-steven, because you did hit me."

  "Even-steven my butt!" she yelled and scurried to jump in front of me, blocking my way.

  "And what a cute butt it is."

  Even through the noise of water hitting metal, I heard her intake of breath. The rain pelted us in the dark. I hoped no one came around the corner. It would be hard for them to see us here in the middle of the road. She might get hurt. Then I wondered why I cared.

  "Look, buddy," she replied and crossed her arms. It drew my eyes to her shirt. My eyes bulged 'cause that shirt…well, it was see-through now. She caught on and jerked h
er crossed arms higher. "How dare you! You're on a roll in the jerkface department, you know that!"

  "My specialty," I said and saluted as I climbed in my truck. "Get your pretty butt in your car and let's pretend this never happened, shall we?"

  Because if cops and insurance were brought into this, I'd be on the run sooner than I thought.

  She huffed. "Excuse me-"

  "Darling. Car. Now." She glared. "Like right now."

  She threw her hands up in the air and yelled, "I knew chivalry was dead!" before climbing in her car and driving away. She didn't know it, but I was being as chivalrous as they come. I made sure she got out of the rain and back into her car, even though she didn't like the way I did it, and I got her as far away from me as I could.

  In my book, I deserved a freaking medal for being so chivalrous. Because people that stuck with me didn't live long.

  Just ask my mom.

  Oh, wait, you can't. She died long, long years ago saving my life. I refused to bring anyone onto this sinking ship with me. If it finally did go down, I was going down alone.

  I made my way back to my place and parked in the lot. I took the stairs two at a time to my crappy apartment and plopped myself on my bed, feeling a sudden exhaustion settle over me. The facade, the lies, the daily life of me wore down on me like rubber sneakers on pavement. I felt raw and ground up. I wondered how long I could actually live like this before I collapsed in on myself.

  The tune of Bohemian Rhapsody alerted me that I had a message. I jerked it from my front pocket and looked at the text from Zander. He was the school's resident party boy and he was definitely the kind of guy that I always found when I went to a new town. Because a guy that threw parties on the fly could get things, and for a guy on the run, I needed someone like that. I texted him back that, yeah, I'd come to the anti-frat party he was throwing tomorrow night. I had no classes. I only took one elective night class, that was only in session two nights a week, just so I could say that I was a college student there, but I really wasn't. And the class? Freaking Spanish. Odio españoles.