#HateThatBoy

by Yesenia Vargas

  Noah glanced back in Gary’s direction, but he was gone. “Quarterback, right? Can’t say I’m surprised.” He held back a grin.

  “Yeah, well, he turned out to be a real—”

  The bell interrupted me. Probably better not to say it out loud anyway.

  Students poured out of classrooms up and down the hallway, filling it almost instantly. Not to mention the noise. The closer the time got to dismissal, the louder everyone became at class change.

  And in class.

  Noah kept his eyes on me. “Sounds like a real keeper.”

  “You have no idea,” I said and walked into lit.

  We were the first ones inside.

  We turned our papers in, and I wrote down the assignment on the board. Read three chapters of the book for our midterm paper. Great.

  The bell rang, signaling the start of class, and Ms. Holloway turned to face us. “Make sure you put your Gatsby paper in the tray! It’s twenty points off if you turn it in on Monday, so I hope everyone has it today.”

  Her eyes swept the room, and more than one student met her gaze with a guilty look. Harper made her way back from the tray, giving me a kind smile as she sat down.

  No way would I have gotten a perfect eighty on that paper had I turned it in on Monday.

  I glanced at Noah, and he winked at me. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention forward again. But I couldn’t help it. I smiled a little to myself.

  When everyone settled down, the teacher stood in front of the board. “Today, I thought we’d head to the library. You can choose a book for the mid-term paper if you haven’t already.”

  Cassie raised her hand. She was well-known for having the best grades in eleventh grade. “What if we already have our book? I ordered mine online.”

  She held a pristine copy of The Book Thief in her hands.

  Ms. Holloway smiled. “That’s great. Then you can get a head start on this weekend’s reading. Any other questions?”

  No one had any. Harper ducked down to grab a book out of her bag.

  “Good. Let’s make our way to the library.”

  Harper stopped at the bathroom, so I hung back at the end of the scattered blob of people that made up our class. Everyone went into the library, but I stood by the water fountain, waiting for Harper.

  Noah showed up beside me. “So, what book are you gonna choose?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. Any recommendations?” Apparently, he was the kind of guy who liked to read.

  “Personally, I’m going with the Sherman Alexie book.”

  I blinked back at him, silent.

  The corner of his mouth twitched up. “The Absolute True Diary of a Part-Time Indian?” he said, like it was common knowledge.

  “Never heard of it.”

  He grimaced. “That’s a shame. It’s one of my favorite books.”

  “I thought we had to pick a book we haven’t read before,” I said.

  He turned to me, a full-on smile now on his face. “Since when are you such a rule-follower? Besides, the teacher won’t know I read it last year. The paper will be easy.”

  I glanced away. “Well, I’m not sure I’ve read any of those books. The Great Gatsby wasn’t as bad as what we usually read, but let’s just say I don’t have time to read a tome like Cassie.”

  Harper came out of the bathroom, and she stopped for a second when she saw both of us standing together and talking.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

  The three of us walked in silence to the library. Ms. Holloway didn’t say anything when we made an obviously late entrance. She just went back to her quiet discussion with one of the students.

  Harper held up a used copy of Anne of Green Gables. “Do you mind if I sit and read?”

  I nodded. “Sure. I’m gonna look for a book.” I glanced at Noah and began making my way to the bookshelves, pulling the book list out of my pocket.

  “Mind if I tag along?” he asked.

  I stopped and turned toward him. “I thought you already had a book.”

  What was this about?

  He smiled that crooked smile of his. “I do. I thought I’d help you pick yours. Besides, I don’t have the book with me, so I can’t read.”

  I wanted to object and say he could do homework or something, but I didn’t. Instead, I let him take the book list from me and lead the way to the shelves.

  We went to a section kind of hidden from the rest of the library. No one sat at the tables. It was quiet.

  “Romeo and Juliet?” he tried.

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. Saw the movie in eighth grade. Dumbest love story ever.”

  He laughed. “Thank you. That was a test, by the way. Happy to say that you passed. I don’t get why so many people obsess over it.”

  I laughed. Wow. One thing we could agree on.

  Noah thought some more, glancing down at the book list in his hand. “Hmm.”

  I inched closer so I could review the list with him.

  “The Poisonwood Bible?” he asked, pulling it from the shelf near the floor.

  It looked as thick as like three or four books put together. “Definitely not,” I said. “That looks like the actual Bible.”

  He chuckled and put it back.

  I read the list with him. “Anything not written like a hundred years ago?”

  He scanned the list. “Mostly classics, I think, but here we go. Twilight?” He stifled a laugh.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “That would be a hard no. The movie was bad enough. Besides, I’m not sure I can deal with a love triangle right now.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, why is that?”

  For the first time in a long time, I felt a little flustered. “Because…they get old. Moving on,” I said, my eyes back on the list.

  “Harry Potter?” he tried. “You can pick books four through seven.”

  I blinked back at him like he was joking. “Try my friend, Rey. I’m pretty sure she’s obsessed with Harry Potter. I’ve never even seen the movies.”

  Noah clutched at his chest like I had struck him. “I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that. You just lost so many cool points.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I did?”

  He raised his hand and went back to the list. “I’d totally reread book seven for this project if I didn’t want to reread Part-Time Indian more.”

  “Wow, you are a complete nerd, aren’t you?” I blurted out.

  He smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It wasn’t,” I shot back.

  But he acted like he didn’t hear me. This time, I took the list. “What about The Fault in Our Stars?”

  “You haven’t read that? I thought everybody had read that,” he said.

  I stared back at him. “I’m not everybody.”

  “What about the movie?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I think I saw part of it once.”

  Fake shock swept over his face.

  “I don’t have a lot of time for books and movies,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

  “Wow. I feel sorry for you.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “Now help me find it.”

  We searched the books listed under G until the bright blue spine jumped out at us.

  “Here you go,” he said. “Make sure you have tissues handy.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “The last story that made me cry was like The Giving Tree, in kindergarten.” I took the book and headed to the checkout desk.

  Nine

  Coach Davis let us off the hook early on Friday afternoon. “Okay, that’s enough for today.”

  I did a double-take.

  The girls and I froze. Was she for real? We’d never gotten out of practice early. Ever.

  No one said a word.

  Coach put her hands on her hips, a frown replacing the neutral expression she had the moment before. “What are you all waiting for?” She looked around. “Go home. You�
�ve been working really hard, and I think you’ve won yourself some extra time off. I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  With that, she walked toward her office, clipboard under her arm.

  Lindsay, Courtney, and Julie turned to me.

  Courtney glanced at Coach again. “We really get to go home?”

  Mia stepped closer. “I guess so,” she said. “But remember to go easy on the junk food.”

  Julie nodded but smiled. “Am I dreaming? Tell me this is real.”

  I laughed. “It’s real.” But I could hardly believe it either. Was Coach Davis going soft as she approached retirement? “Let’s go before she changes her mind.”

  Several of the girls jumped up and down or screamed. Then we walked into the locker room together.

  Most of the girls left quickly, saying they wanted to go get some frozen yogurt to celebrate. I hung back, too tired to do anything but go home, maybe get some weekend homework out of the way.

  By the time I grabbed my stuff, only Lindsay and Courtney were left. They spun around as they reached the locker room door. “You okay?” Lindsay asked.

  I nodded, turned away from my open locker. “Yeah, I’m going straight home for a warm bubble bath and a movie while I do homework or something. Then go to bed early.” My mom wouldn’t be home to tell me otherwise anyway.

  Courtney held the door open, but they didn’t leave quite yet. “We’re going to go home and get ready so we can go to Tommy’s party. His parents are out of town.”

  Lindsay looked at me. “You sure you don’t want to come? We could pick you up. A few of the other girls are going too.”

  I smiled. “No, but thanks. I guess I’m just tired. And I have a lot of homework that I’m behind on.”

  “That’s what Sundays are for,” Lindsay said with a wink.

  But they didn’t push it any further and said goodbye before leaving for good. I followed not too far behind them, taking one last look at the gym before exiting through the double doors.

  Outside, Coach Davis walked toward her car, keys in her hand. She stopped when she saw me. “That everyone?”

  I nodded. “I was the last one.” I joined her on the sidewalk, gym bag hanging from my shoulder.

  “Get some rest then,” she said with a brief smile. “As for me, I’m gonna go pop in on my daughter and see how she’s doing. Grandbaby number two is due any day now.”

  She lit up at that, and it made me smile. “I bet you’re an awesome grandma.”

  She patted me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Tori. And good job out there today.”

  “Thanks, Coach,” I said. Individual compliments were few and far in between, so I savored the feeling.

  We each went our separate ways. I headed toward the student parking lot and reached my car, sighing as I tossed my bags in the back of my SUV.

  As I drove past the front of the building to reach the main road, something caught my eye.

  Noah sat on one of the benches. What was Noah still doing here? Was he waiting for someone?

  The pickup line was long gone along with everybody else. I could spot only a couple of cars left in the teacher parking lot. After all, it was Friday afternoon.

  I slowed until I came to a stop in front of him, not exactly sure what I was doing. I pushed the button to open my window, and it slid all the way down automatically.

  Noah turned to me, and neither of us said anything for a second.

  “Hey,” I said. “What are you still doing here?” I glanced at my phone. It was almost six. Had he been waiting on that bench all along?

  He shrugged, and his face didn’t give away anything when he spoke. “I had a make-up test.”

  A test that took him over two hours to finish?

  I nodded slowly and put my car in park. “Well, do you need a ride?”

  He clenched his jaw. “I’m good. But thanks.”

  Biting my lip, I looked down at my lap for a second before I made up my mind and turned to him again. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

  Now he looked like he was reconsidering things.

  I waited for him to answer.

  He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.”

  Offering a smile, I said, “It’s really not a bother, Noah. If I’m offering you a ride, it’s because I don’t mind. I mean, it’s the least I could—” I stopped, not knowing what I was trying to say. “I just mean that I really don’t mind, and I’d feel better if you’d just let me take you home. Or wherever you need to go.”

  The whole time, a part of me was freaking out inside, wondering why I had offered Noah a ride home. Another part of me insisted it was no big deal.

  Noah exhaled and looked away then finally met my gaze. “Like I said, I’m fine. But thanks.”

  It didn’t sound like he meant it, though.

  I thought maybe we had started to become friends, but it looked like I was wrong.

  I rolled up the window without another word and drove away, making myself ignore the quickly-darkening sky full of gray clouds.

  Instead of turning right to go to my house, I turned left and headed to the small gas station down the road.

  I hadn’t had time to fill up my tank all week, and now I was just about running on empty.

  The wind picked up as I got out of my car to pay at the pump. The not-very-long workout shorts and old t-shirt I was wearing weren’t doing much to keep me warm.

  This gas station wasn’t a very busy place like the giant and bright red gas station another quarter mile down the road. This one stood empty except for one other car on the opposite side of the lot.

  But this one did have a good range of snacks and junk food, and the old, stooping owner reminded me of my grandpa, the one I visited in Colombia when I was five. My grandparents had only spoken Spanish, and I’d learned it pretty quickly that summer. I hadn’t gone back since then, so the language had been mostly forgotten. Coming here always brought me memories of them, though.

  Craving some low-fat ice cream, I finished getting gas and jogged toward the store. When I went inside, I saw the owner sitting behind the counter, watching a tiny TV with antennas. The picture kept graying out, and he hit it a couple times before it went back to his baseball game.

  Smiling to myself, I walked slowly down the aisles and debated what to get besides ice cream. Maybe sour gummy worms. I’d kill for some of those, but I knew they’d be a quick path down to a junk food binge.

  I settled for the smallest pack of Oreos I could find in the place to crumble over my pint of ice cream while I settled in to watch some TV at home. Maybe I’d even have a slice of frozen pizza?

  A box of loaded pepperoni pizza called to me from the freezer. I internally groaned but grabbed it before heading to the counter. I’d stick with water. No soda. That was my compromise.

  I paid up, and the owner gave a friendly sort of grunt as he took my card.

  Then he bagged my items.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking my things.

  The bell rang, and we both turned to the door. Someone familiar came in. A gust of wind followed him in until the door shut behind him.

  “Noah?” I said.

  He spotted me, surprise etched onto his face. “Tori?”

  I nodded, taking a few steps toward him. I glanced behind him, looking for whoever had brought him here, but it was only my car in the lot. “Did you walk?”

  He ignored me and made his way to the back of the store, his eyes dark and no sign of the usual smug grin on his face.

  I didn’t get it. “Uh, are you mad at me or something? Because—”

  He stopped. “I’m not mad at you.”

  Then what was going on? Why was he acting like this?

  He searched the aisle I had skipped, the one full of instant noodles and cans of tuna.

  He picked up a couple packs of noodles plus a cup of macaroni and cheese. He finally looked at me. “Can I help you?”

  But he
didn’t seem like he was in a very helpful mood.

  “Um, yeah. What’s going on? I told you I’d be happy to give you a ride,” I said.

  He nodded at my bag. “Is that a typical cheerleader dinner?”

  I blinked back at him, gripping the plastic bag tight in my hand. “It is for tonight. It’s Friday, and Coach ended practice early. Thought I’d do homework and celebrate.” I lifted the bag with a small smile.

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked toward the front of the store without another word. He stopped when he saw a pack of Oreos. He picked them up but then put them back.

  The owner slowly totaled up his stuff. Noah looked at the register for the amount and pulled a small wad of bills from his front pocket. I stood behind him, not sure what I was still doing there.

  Noah got his change, and we walked out of the store.

  “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?” I asked again, but he had longer legs than me and was already several paces ahead.

  “No, thanks,” was all he said.

  He finished sticking his food inside his bag and slung it back over his shoulder. Before I could do anything more than stutter, he was already crossing the parking lot and heading back toward the road.

  I wanted to go after him, but he seemed really intent on leaving. So I went back to my car and turned the ignition, but I couldn’t stop staring after him as he walked down the road.

  Finally, he disappeared around a bend, and I put the car in drive and headed slowly toward the road. I could hardly see him anymore as I waited for traffic to pass.

  Drops of rain hit my windshield softly. The clouds overhead hung darker than ever, almost black, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

  Should I go back the way I came and go home? Just let Noah be? Or should I turn right and somehow insist on him letting me take him home?

  Fat raindrops began pelting the windshield, and I arrived at my answer.

  I glanced left and right one more time and turned onto the road.

  Ten

  Just in the minute it had taken me to catch up to Noah, it had gotten a lot harder to see. Cars whooshed past me, spraying water everywhere, but I spotted him up ahead.