Jesse's Girl

Chapter 32

     The stick figures were back.

   Looking down at my homework, I realized that I'd absentmindedly drawn grotesque stick figure animations in the spots where I was supposed to write my answers. Paying closer attention to them, I also realized that it wasn't Jesse I was drawing like all the other times—it was Farrah.

   I drew her restrained against a tree with a bomb attached to her chest, as well as myself with a detonator. In another, I drew her tied up in a chair in the middle of a freeway during rush hour. And then I used her stick figure body to play hangman in the corner of the page—in which I lost on purpose.

   Swallowing, and quite frankly, not really surprised as to where my thoughts had wandered, I crumbled up the paper—knowing I was going to be in serious trouble since it was due tomorrow—and tossed it to the side, scowling at it once it hit the floor.

   Where had those thoughts come from?

   Oh, right.

   Jesse.

  To say I was put off by him was an understatement. And to be honest, it had nothing to do with the fact that he lied about what happened at his party to my face.

  No, I was put off because he didn't kiss me earlier. I'd given him a clear opening – two clear shots, now that I remember it – and he turned both down to drag me away to roam the city. Not that I was disappointed in how our day had turned out. After leaving the movie theater, we'd scavenged through the mall and ended up getting kicked out; found an arcade and played Pac Man and Galaga for a while; and then spent the rest of the day at a diner until he brought me back to school to retrieve my car so that I could drive myself home. And throughout all of those events, he hadn't made any moves on me—no lingering looks, no cornering me, and no flirting. And I admit it: his change in attitude had me thinking the worst.

   Maybe he was finally bored. Maybe Farrah opened his eyes at his party and made him realize what he had been missing out on while he had been pursuing me. Maybe just the thought of kissing me just wasn't worth the trouble anymore.

   I straightened up in my bed, unfolding my legs from their crisscross position and stretching them out. As I bit my lip and focused my gaze on the bedroom window to my side, I suddenly felt at a loss.

   I bored him. I totally bored him. He's bored with me.

   And the strange thing about my disappointment was that I wasn't upset that Jesse not liking me put a strain to Kale's revenge scheme—but because the very thought of Jesse being bored with me actually hurt me somehow. My antics were getting old and it took me only until now to realize it.

  Glancing away from the window, I turned my gaze back to my homework on the floor. When my eyes roamed over my vivid fantasies about dealing with Farrah, I couldn't help the deep frown settling over my mouth.

  For someone who claims to have not really liked Jesse to begin with, I sure feel like I care more about him than I should.

***

   I told myself that I was being paranoid, but I swear I saw the secretaries in the attendance office stare at me a little longer than necessary as I passed them the next day at school. When they looked away from me to a man coming into their office with a basket decorated with happy birthday ribbons and balloons, I took advantage of the diversion and practically ran for it.

   That was, until I rounded the edge of the hallway and ran into someone.

   "Whoa, I'm s—" I froze when I met the eyes of the person. "Katrina?"