"He's stalking you?" Joe's eyes bugged out and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down theatrically.
"No." I shook my head. "No, of course not. He just…he just thinks something that isn't quite right and—dammit—I can't really explain. He just thinks I'm someone I'm not and I haven't figured out how to let him down easy."
"Work on it. Hard." Joe stared at me, his eyes flinty.
"What's your problem with Grady, anyway? He's really nice."
Joe pursed his lips and blew a big breath of air out, obviously frustrated. "I don't have a problem with Grady."
"You do." I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot impatiently. "You do and if I didn't already know I needed to break it off with him I might want to date him just to piss you off."
Joe narrowed his eyes at me. "I've helped you."
"And now you're following me, aren't you?"
Joe looked away, but not before I caught the wave of embarrassment that rolled across his features.
"I knew it."
He looked back at me defiantly. "It's for your own good."
"My own good? While it's nice to have someone in the family concerned about what's good for me, I don't think you're really 'in the know' on this one Joe. Grady's a good guy. One of the nicest, most genuine people I've ever met. Yeah, it sucks that he's going to hate me when he finds out that I'm not Mary Magdalene or Mary Queen of Scots or Mary whoever the fuck he thinks I am, but that doesn't make him a bad person."
Joe stared at me, totally confused. "What on earth are you talking about?"
I shook my head, completely fed up and irritated. I snatched my backpack off the table. "Never mind. I'm late for practice." I slammed the palm of my hand down on the tabletop. "And don't follow me. The other cheerleaders will think you're a stalker."
I stormed off towards the wrestling room. What the hell was wrong with my family? For fifteen and a half years I could have dropped off the face of the earth and no one would have noticed, and all of a sudden they were on me like white on rice. I took some deep breaths as I got closer to the wrestling room.
I pushed open the heavy door and found that all six of the Lincoln girls and Kaia had already beaten me here. Kaia was spotting a thigh stand for three of the Lincoln girls. The others were still stretching out. I grinned, and my irritation melted away. This was what I needed.
We practiced tumbling, some basic stunts, and even started in on a little choreography until four-thirty, when Kaia said she had to leave. I couldn't believe how fast the time had flown. We decided to stop there and meet up again the next day. I was already looking forward to it.
It was probably the afterglow of all the cheerleading endorphins, but I was feeling bad about the way I'd left things with Joe. I went looking for him in the library. I checked the rows of shelves and study nooks but he wasn't anywhere. Disappointed, I settled in front of a computer to catch up on my email; it had been days since I'd checked it. This wouldn't be a bad way to spend the next couple of hours until driver's ed. Hell, I could make a trip to the library an everyday thing and end up valedictorian myself. I snickered a little too loud at that thought, and a passing librarian glared at me over her shoulder.
I logged onto my email and read a few cheerleading and school-related logistical emails, but pretty soon I was all caught up. I bit my lip and loaded up Facebook. I don't know why, but whenever I was in front of a computer with nothing else to do, I couldn't help myself from checking my mom's Facebook page. I found it about a year ago, listed under her maiden name.
I did the same thing I always did. I checked her info first. She still had herself marked as "single" and the only children she listed were Phoebe and Rachel. I glanced at mom's pictures, but I didn't see anything new. Mostly just shots of herself as a teenager, and a few pictures of baby Phoebe toddling around.
I looked at her wall. She was rocking Farmville, and had earned and unlocked all sorts of crap in various other games. There were a few posts from people I'd never met, and she'd obviously spent time on a "deep thoughts" site, because she had a few Very Important Things to say.
I blinked and sniffed a couple times. My allergies almost always started to act up when I cruised her Facebook too long. I blamed dusty keyboards. After X-ing out of the internet and logging off the computer, I wandered around the fiction section for a little while, pulling books off the shelves and reading the first page or two in each before putting them back.
"That looks like the right book for you."
I couldn't prevent my toes from curling at the sound of Derek's voice behind me. I flipped The Beautiful and Damned closed and put it back on the shelf and sniffed, looking over my shoulder at him. "Oh yeah? How do you figure?"
He shook his hair out of his eyes and grinned. "The first part's self-explanatory. The second depends on whether or not you go out with me tonight."
I tossed my head and turned away, plucking another book off the shelf and opening it up to a random page. "I don't date guys with girlfriends."
I felt him move closer to me, his lips millimeters from my ear. "Since I don't have a girlfriend, that doesn't pose much of a problem."
I took a half step to the side and turned to face him head on. "Um, Hannah Wiley? Ring a bell?"
Derek shrugged one shoulder. "Hannah Wiley? Sure, we hooked up over the summer a few times, but my girlfriend? No." He closed the distance between us again and leaned in, putting his arm on the bookshelf over my shoulder. My back was completely against the shelves. No more wiggle room for me.
I ducked under his arm, and he wheeled around, a cocky smile on his face.
"She doesn't seem to share your point of view," I said. "And you did go to her house the other night, remember? She had something you needed." I rolled my eyes at him and put my hand on my hip.
Derek shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and his tanned cheeks took on a pinkish cast. "Yeah, well she did have something I needed. She had my book."
"Your book?" I raised my eyebrows. "Must have been some book. There's something called a library and it's full of 'em. Oh, wait, we're in one. So I guess you already knew about it." I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my toe.
"Yeah, I looked for it here after school, but they don't have a copy." He was still shuffling his feet. "No one does. I ordered mine on Amazon and it would have taken me three days to get another one."
He looked so comically uncomfortable that I couldn't help but smile at him. "What book was it? Joy of Sex? Kama Sutra?"
"No, but I like the way you think." He gave me a crooked smile. "It's called The Music of the Primes."
"Primes?" My smile got even wider. "Like as in prime numbers?"
"I really wanted to see how it ended."
"There is no end, Derek," I said patiently. "They go to infinity."
"So you believe me?"
"Of course I believe you. If you were lying, you probably would have claimed to be doing something cool."
Derek lifted his mouth in an incredibly cute lopsided grin. "I told Hannah 'The Primes' was a punk band. She said she was a big fan."
I stepped towards him and raised my hand to his neck, where I knew his tattoo hid under his brown hair. "Never opened the book, did she?"
"Not a chance." Derek dipped his head and my fingers twined into his hair as our mouths met. Derek pressed against me so that my back was to the opposite set of shelves, and his elbow knocked several books onto the floor with a clatter. We broke apart.
He grabbed my hand and we took off for the doors. "C'mon, let's get out of here before we do something we'll regret."
"Like what?" I said breathlessly.
He braced his hand on the library door and shoved it open. "Like keep our clothes on."
9
"You know, this is, without a doubt, my favorite room in the school." I stretched lazily on my back in the wrestling room. Derek lay on his side, supporting his head with his right arm.
He lowered his face to mine and kissed me again. "It's definit
ely in the running."
"Oh yeah? What could possibly be better?"
"Well, I also really like the chemistry lab. And Mr. Phillips has a machine in the physics room that simulates perpetual motion. It's pretty amazing."
I shoved him playfully in the chest. "I'll show you perpetual motion," I said, just as his cell started ringing.
He pulled it out of his pocket and tapped the screen.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said frostily, raising myself up on my elbows. "Do you need to take that?"
"C'mon, jealous much? It's not a call, it was my alarm. Ten minutes 'til driver's ed. That gives us…maybe four minutes. Not nearly long enough. Not that I'm complaining." He put his hand on my waist and started to inch it under the hem of my cheer top.
Because who would complain about a girl who was willing to trot off to a deserted room to swap dental records with a guy she barely knew? My brain knew I should slow things down, but my body didn't really want to.
Damn brain, always ruining everything. I stood up. "We should get going. I don't want to be late."
Derek reached up and grabbed my hand. "We've got time."
"Yeah. I guess. It's just…" I trailed off, feeling stupid.
"Just what?" Derek prodded.
I shook his hand out of mine and crossed my arms over my chest. "I was jealous when your phone rang. And that's fucked up. Sure, you're not going out with Hannah and I believe you, but you did hook up with her. You slept with her, right?"
Derek nodded. "Yeah. Me and half the other guys at Hilltop."
"Lovely. A man with standards."
Derek scrambled to his feet. "Come on Barbie. You're telling me if a girl took off her underwear and then did the splits in the middle of your bedroom, you'd just be able to sit there?"
"Um, yeah. That wouldn't actually do anything for me."
Derek laughed. "Right, good to know. If you were a dude, your answer would be different."
"So are there other girls you're sleeping with that will be calling? Any other girls that think they're your girlfriend?"
He grinned at me crookedly. "No. No other girls think they're my girlfriend. And I'll talk to Hannah. I'll make sure she's crystal clear."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with you."
"I know. But it increases the odds, right?" Derek ran his hands up my hips. His lips probed the sensitive skin behind my ear. Despite my best intentions, my knees went weak and I snaked my arms around his waist, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck.
He laughed against my skin. "Come on Barbie. Time's up. Let's go learn to drive."
We walked the hallways holding hands and he opened the door for me. The parking lot was nearly empty, except for the compact sedan with an A+ Driving School sign on the roof.
We let go of each other's hands and jogged over to the car. It was empty. "Wanna get in the backseat?" Derek said devilishly.
"Behave yourself." I looked around the parking lot and spotted a woman with a clipboard coming out of one of the school's side doors. She was pretty far away, but even from here I could see her long green fingernails, and my stomach lurched. "Wait here. I'll go see if that's our instructor."
I ran as fast as I could without outright sprinting. "Hi Mrs. Dutton," I said when I reached my neighbor, panting slightly. "Are you the driver's ed teacher?"
"Baby Anderson! I haven't seen you in weeks. I was beginning to think you'd left home. Are you one of my students?"
"Yeah, I am," I said, my breathing slowing down but my heart continuing to pound. "Hey, this is weird and random, but can you call me Barbie? That's what people at school think my name is."
Mrs. Dutton looked at me appraisingly. "Sure honey. So…Barbie, huh?"
"Yeah, I didn't really think that one through," I muttered, staring over her shoulder at the tree line. "But it seems to have stuck."
"No problem sweetie. I'm thrilled to have you in my class. I do these lessons for extra money, and to be honest, most of my students are assholes." My eyes popped open in surprise, but she didn't seem to notice. She pointed behind me in the direction of Derek and the car. It looks like the third person is here now. Let's hit the road."
I turned around and my heart sank. Why couldn't I escape these people? Ashley Sorenson leaned against the car's hood, chatting up Derek and putting on layers of lip gloss.
"Looks like we're all here," Mrs. Dutton said when we'd reached the vehicle.
Ashley's eyes lit up, she'd been so busy primping and talking to Derek that she hadn't noticed me coming across the parking lot. "Oh, this is going to be rich," she drawled.
Mrs. Dutton ignored her. "Barbie Anderson," she said, stressing my first name unnecessarily, “why don't you drive first. Derek Mottola and Ashley Sorenson," she checked little boxes on her form as she said their names, "you take the backseat."
"I think Derek would probably prefer to be in the backseat with Barbie," Ashley said snottily.
Mrs. Dutton raised her eyebrows. "He probably would. I can smell your breath from here. The day this school started serving garlic fries is a day that will go down in infamy. Now get in the car."
Oh my god. I totally wanted to high five Mrs. Dutton when I walked around to the driver's side, but somehow I restrained myself and got into the car. Ashley still hadn't wiped the astonished look off her face as she settled into the backseat. I know, because I adjusted my rearview mirror so I could see her in it.
"Please adjust your mirrors Baby—pardon me—Barbie. Correctly," Mrs. Dutton added, as she caught me smirking at Ashley.
I ran through my whole 'pre-flight' checklist. Seat not too far forward, seat belt attached, mirrors angled properly, key in the ignition, foot on the brake, hands on the steering wheel. Mrs. Dutton nodded at me, and I started the car. I glanced over my shoulder at Derek, sitting behind the passenger seat, as I went to back out of the parking stall. I put my foot on the gas, and the car shot forward. Mrs. Dutton must have stamped on the instructor's brake, because we came to a lurching halt. "You're going to want to put it in reverse, Barbie, not drive," she said blandly, while Derek and Ashley cackled in the backseat.
"Reverse. Got it," I said, my cheeks burning. After that, it wasn't so terribly embarrassing. I drove out of the parking lot and followed Mrs. Dutton's directions, making turns smoothly and always coming to full and complete stops before proceeding through an intersection. I parked the car a couple times in an empty church parking lot before Mrs. Dutton said I should switch places with Ashley.
Ashley got into the driver's seat and I slid in back with Derek. "Nice driving," he said, holding out his hand. I gave him five, and he squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go.
Mrs. Dutton had Ashley go through the same drill, letting her drive for a while, but as she made her turns at Mrs. Dutton's direction, the landscape got uncomfortably familiar. When we pulled up outside Mrs. Dutton's house, I was downright freaking out. "Stop here," she told Ashley. "Shut off the car and give me the keys. I've got to run inside and grab some handouts that I'm supposed to give you."
Mrs. Dutton took the keys from Ashley's outstretched palm and climbed out of the passenger seat, hurrying up the concrete walk to her cottage.
"Oh my god," Ashley drawled, turning around in the driver's seat and looking at Derek. "Remind me never to become a driver's ed teacher. Look at her house. What a loser."
"Yeah," Derek said. "But check out the dump next door." He waved his arm out the window at my turquoise trailer with the busted awning and the broken porch steps.
Ashley's eyes lit up, and I couldn't stand to look at either one of them anymore, so I stared out the window at the vacant lot across the street. I couldn't block Ashley's voice though. "Oh my god, I know that house. My mom says there's like, an actual prostitute who lives there with, like, a dozen kids."
"Seriously?" Derek's voice sounded mildly interested. "There's prostitutes in this town?"
"That's what my mom says. Oh my god, I can't believe our rent-a-teacher lives
next door. Shhh, here she comes."
Like she could have heard, the windows are rolled up. But I was still glad they were shutting the hell up.
Mrs. Dutton got back in the car and I waited for her to tell Derek and Ashley to switch places, but she just sat there leafing through her paperwork. Finally she turned around and handed me a small sheaf of papers. I shook my head at her, trying to warn her somehow to please, please, not say anything. It didn't work.
"Barbie," she said, again stressing my first name too forcefully, "I'd give you a ride home, but I teach a defensive driving class at the community college later tonight and I doubt you want to hang around. Why don't you go ahead and hop out now while Ashley and Derek switch places?"
I looked away miserably and fumbled at the latch on the car door. I couldn't look at anyone, even Mrs. Dutton. But I wasn't mad at her. It wasn't her fault I lived with an alleged hooker.
"Don't forget your backpack," she said.
I swallowed hard and tried to grab it without looking at Derek, who remained stock-still in the backseat, but I couldn't find it. Finally, I stretched around and plucked my backpack off the floor at Derek's feet. My eyes traveled to the horrified look on his face. He looked like he was about to throw up. That made two of us.
I got out of the car and walked up my trash-strewn lawn, trying as hard as I could to keep my back as straight as a board. Thankfully, I managed to fight back my tears until the front door squealed shut behind me.
I leaned against the door and tipped my head back, closing my eyes and letting the tears roll silently down my face.
"Where'd you find the Halloween costume? Bet you felt like a real asshole at school today, didn't you? Crybaby."
I opened my eyes and glared through my tears at Monica. She’d been in hiding since she ruined my clothes, but of course, here she was now to revel in my misery. "Fuck you."
"Oh, ow!" Monica put her hand over her pear-shaped breasts, pretending to be injured. "Stop it, you're hurting me."
She was alone in the living room and I stormed past her to the kitchen, where my mom sat behind her desk tapping away on her keyboard. "Phoebe?" she said vaguely over the top of the half wall partition.
Say My Name Page 7