Love, Your Secret Admirer

Chapter 2

By the time lunch rolls around everyone is caught up on the rose story and everyone has their own opinions on the matter, but to sum it up, everyone thinks that I should go.

            “Well then can you guys come with me?” I ask.

            “We can’t just go as a group for you to meet this guy that you may or may not already know," Larissa says.

            “Yeah, that’s why you drive Stephanie, Tiffany and yourself up there.  And I drive myself in my own car.  That way he won’t even know; if he’s even there.  And if he's not, and it’s just a trick like last time, then it will look like I was waiting for you guys and I won't be forced to stay hidden in my room in humiliation again," I explain.

            “Fine," all three of them say at once.

When I get to Stop, Shop, Go I sit there for twenty minutes.  When no one comes up to me I tug my ear, the signal that my friends and I decided on, and my three friends walk up to me, all talking at once about how they are sorry that they are late.  Then we go inside, stock up on soda and spongy cakes, and go to Stephanie's to watch chick flicks.

The next day at school there is no note on my locker accompanied by a rose and there is no note in my locker talking about how they won money.  I guess my brilliant plan worked.  When I get everything I need out of my locker I slam it closed, whip around, and get slammed into the floor.  My books and backpack go flying across the hallway.

“I’m so sorry," the person says to me.

“It’s okay,” I say trying to gather my things.  “I have always been clumsy.”

“Oh, let me help you with that," he says bending down and picking up my black backpack and handing it to me.

“Thanks," I say standing up.  When I finally look up I see that Zack is looking at me, holding my backpack.  He is wearing a black t-shirt with blue jeans and the silver ring he always wears on his middle finger of his right hand.  His sun kissed brown hair is in his golden brown eyes as they are looking into my dark brown ones.  “Um, thanks," I say grabbing my backpack and putting it on my shoulder.

“You already said that," Zach says smiling.

“Oh right,” I say smiling and looking at the floor.  "Well, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome," he says as the bell rings.  “Where is your next class?”

“22A.”

“Oh well mine’s at 166," he says pointing in the opposite direction of where I have to go.  “See you around.”

"Cool," I say as he turns around.  I watch him walk away.  When I can’t see him anymore I realize that I was holding my breath.  When I finally breathe again I turn around and walk to my pre-calculus class.

When I finished the final paragraph on my essay, my phone lights up and vibrates. 

“Hey”

“who is this?”  I reply.

“Zach”

“no really…who is this?”

“Zach”

“prove it”

“your bathing suit (4 swim) is purple with white stripes on the side and u have the hottest butterfly stroke on the whole team”

“really?”

“Ya….i want 2 ask u something”

“Ya?”

“Will u B my gf?”

“Honey?  Honey, wake up.”  I wake up to my mother shaking me.  I’m sitting at my desk in my room and my head is in my folded arms resting on my computer.  I look up at the computer and there is a long line of Bs on my essay. 

“Honey, dinner is ready," says my mother.

“Okay," I say starting to delete the endless line of Bs on my computer.  My mother turns around and starts walking down stairs.  So it was just a dream.  Damn. 

I walk downstairs and I can smell the scent of garlic and tomatoes of my mother’s legendary spaghetti.  I can hear the pouring of the wine and the clinking of the wine glasses.  When I get downstairs I see a bouquet of red roses on the dinning table.

“Where did these come from?” I ask.

“They came for you while you were upstairs," my mother replies.  “I think there’s a card," she says smiling like she read it already.

Sorry I missed you at the Stop, Shop, Go.  I got held up at practice and couldn’t go.  Maybe we could meet again?  Let me know.  Leave a note in the big maple tree at the park by our school.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

“Who’s it from?” my mother asks.

“I don’t know," I reply.

“Who ever it is, he better hope that I don’t find out," my father says from his usual place at the head of the table.  I just laugh. 

As we ate dinner we talked about Sarah.  Apparently she met some guy and they are engaged.  They are coming over in March, which is next month, and she’s ahead of her fashion class.  My mother is just ecstatic. 

When I was done I go back up stairs and get ready for bed.  I put on my old big mac t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.  Just as I’m in that state between asleep and awareness, I think about my secret admirer.  Should I write him back?  Before I can even come up with a cautious decision about it I fall asleep.