There are many embarrassing moments in a person life. My top moment used to be when I ran downstairs dressed as a Dalek screaming “EXTERMINATE!”, and my mom was having a fancy dress party. In my defense, she didn’t tell me! She simply ordered me to stay in my room. I didn’t agree with the order, and disobeyed it. I’ve regretted it my entire life.
I’ve just beat my embarrassment record, by opening the front door dressed in a towel, and greeting Breton Joel with a high-pitched girly scream.
“AAH!” I screamed, covering my eyes.
“AAH!” he screamed, covering his eyes.
“Sorry!” I yelled, shutting the door. I sprinted up to my room and dressed as fast as possible, stumbling down the stairs as I pulled on socks. I yanked the door open again, and Breton was still standing there with flushed cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“I am soooooo sorry,” I said, dragging out the so. “I was expecting my mom, she said she’d be back before I left for school, and so I didn’t even check and then that just happened. I’ve scarred you for life, haven’t I?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t ever seen before,” he said trying to be nonchalant. I gave him a confused look.
“You’ve seen me dressed in a towel before?” I asked, mortified.
“NO!” he said. “I just meant - I didn’t - you misunderstood - No I’ve never! - “ he floundered.
“Oh. Oh, you just meant like, girls in general! Not me,” I said in relief. Then my face flushed brightly. “I really didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”
By now, both of our faces were bright red.
“Sorry,” I squeaked out. “I- Um - would you like some water?” My voice was still squeaky and I didn’t think it was going away anytime soon.
“Water would be nice thank you,” Breton replied politely, avoiding my gaze. I nodded awkwardly, realized he wasn’t looking at me so he couldn’t see me nodding, and walked swiftly into the kitchen.
Typical me, as I emerged with the glasses of water, I tripped. Fortunately, I didn’t spill them on Breton. Sadly, they did spill all over me, or to be more specific, all over my white shirt.
Breton and I stared in horror as the water soaked into my shirt, making my bra visible. As if prompted by some invisible cue, Breton whirled around and covered his eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest awkwardly.
“Please, please let something go right today!” I begged as I changed my shirt yet again.
Cautiously, I walked down the stairs and peered into the main room. Breton was standing half in the hallway, looking as though leaving would be a good idea right about now. I figured I would just let the poor boy leave, he’d been through enough torture, but he called out my name.
“Georgie? You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I’m really um, I’m so sorry about that. I don’t usually wear white shirts, I only own one of them, and really it’s just bad luck that I wore it today. Did you ask if I was okay?”
“I thought maybe you were, um, well considering how clumsy you are I was worried something had happened,” he explained.
“Oh.” I blushed. “I’m okay. No serious injuries, except to my pride, which wasn’t very large anyway.” Breton laughed.
“Anyway, I came over to ask if you wanted a ride to school... with me? I see you walking every day, but I could drive you, we’d get there quicker,” he said.
“I’d like that! My legs do get tired after a while,” I said.
“Even though we’d only had school for a week and a day?”
“Especially then! I’m not used to walking the distance from my house to school yet, making it hurt more. Don’t you exercise at all?” I said indignantly.
“Of course I do. You don’t get a body like this from sitting on the couch all day,” he said arrogantly.
“Like what?” I asked. I was in the kitchen, so I couldn’t see what he was doing.
“Like this,” he replied. I turned to look this time, and was greeted with a close up view of Breton’s abs.
“AAH!” I screamed, closing my eyes.
Breton laughed. “You can open your eyes now.” I slowly peeled apart my eyelids and peeked through my fingers. His shirt was back on. His abs were now burned into my memory though. Very tan. And chiseled and delightful looking.
No, no Georgie, bad!
“You mentioned a ride?” I wavered.
Winking, Breton replied, “Sure did babe.”
“I don’t get it,” I admitted.
“Of course you don’t. Do you need to leave your mom a note or something?” he asked.
“YEAH!” I cried suddenly. He jumped at my sudden declaration and then smiled.
“Are you going to need paper for that?” he asked.
“Mh-hm,” I nodded.
“Probably a pen too,” he prompted.
“Yup, I’ll need one of those,” I said absently.
“Are you going to write it now? Or wait until after school to do it?” Breton asked.
“Probably wait until after,” I told him. He laughed. “What? What’s happening?”
“You need to write your mom a note Georgie. Now, if you don’t want her to panic.”
“I know that.”
“So why haven’t you?” he asked. Honestly, I was still a bit stunned by his abs.
“Oh! Oh, yeah. Paper, pen,” I mumbled as I ran around finding the items I needed.
Dear Mom,
I got a ride to school with Breton. Don’t worry, he’s not a murderer or kidnapper. Love you,
Georgie
I taped it to the refrigerator.
“Did you use enough tape?” Breton asked with amusement. I studied the note.
“You’re right.” I added three more pieces to the note, then two more.
“Done yet?”
“Almost.” I put three more pieces on and then patted it several times. “To make sure it sticks,” I said with authority. Breton just shook his head.
“You used all the tape.”
“That’s okay, I we have several more rolls in the drawer. Do you think it needs more tape?”
My friendly neighborhood bad boy gently took my shoulders and guided me towards the door.
“Shoes and coat,” he ordered.
“Yes sir!” I saluted and pulled my shoes on quickly.
We entered the car and Breton held the door for me as I slid in.
“Thank you sir,” I said graciously. He laughed. He seems to be laughing at me a lot.
“How fast do you think we can get to school?” I asked. “Because we still have half an hour before first bell.”
“We have time, but you didn’t eat breakfast,” Breton explained.
“We’re getting breakfast? Where are we going?” I asked, very excited now. I love breakfast, it’s my favorite meal of the day. Most important too.
“McDonalds,” he said sheepishly. “They make great Egg McMuffins.”
“I’m a-okay with that,” I let him know. “I love their breakfasts. Not enough to eat them every day, or even very often, but they’re great!” Breton smiled again and off we drove.
By the time we actually got to school, the bell was due to ring any second.
“I can’t believe it takes that long to make Egg McMuffins!” exclaimed my chauffeur, better know as Breton.
“And eat them,” I added, wolfing down the last scraps of mine. “Thanks for paying by the way.”
“No problem. Come on, the bell’s going to ring soon.”
We ran as fast as possible. I nearly tripped going up the stairs, but Breton grabbed my hand to steady me out.
“Thanks!” I called. Breton dropped me off at my classroom first, laughing and panting.
“But you’ll be late!” I protested when he insisted on making sure I got in the door.
“I’m the bad boy of the school. I figure it’s my job to be late every once in a while,” he teased.
I stepped in the door just as the bell rang. Turning around, I gave Breton a thumbs up to let him know I was okay, then shooed him away with hand motions and a funny face.
For lunch, the “gang” (as I’ve started calling them), decided to go eat outside. I debated between going with them, but in the end, I told them I’d be at my usual table. Although it was a nice day out, it was still too cold to be outside for half an hour sitting at a plastic table and eating. Maybe if we were running or something, I’d think about it a little more.
Running my fingertips over my table, I noticed a small pencil mark in the exact spot I usually set my lunch bag.
“No no no no,” I mumbled, setting my lunch on the table carelessly and leaning in to examine the spot. It was in fact pencil. I studied it a bit more. It looked like someone wrote something, but scribbled over it. Picking a pencil from my bag, I carefully erased the mark, swiping away the eraser bits when I was done. It was then that I discovered that someone had indeed written underneath the pencil scribble. In. Pen.
I licked my thumb and furiously rubbed the spot. Nothing, except my thumb was now lightly tinted blue. I squinted and leaned so close to the table my nose was touching it.
Georgie, we need to talk. Come see me when you get this.
~D
I don’t know someone named D. Or anyone who wants to talk with me. Maybe it’s an initial. D for ...dog, drip, or dinosaur. No sorry, that’s kindergarten homework. Um, Dallas! Ooh, or Donna! But how do I find out which one? Sighing heavily, I came to one conclusion. As much as it pained me, I had to write on the table. Lightly writing in pencil, I scribbled a reply.
I know two D’s. Who are you?
I couldn’t even stay in the same area as that disgraceful writing. I defiled all my hard work. Picking up my bags, I walked to the library. On Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, we weren’t supposed to eat anywhere except the cafeteria or on the tables outside. But the librarian knew me and would sometimes let me sneak food into the back corner that held all my favorite books. It’s not like anyone else went into the library anyway.
During my sophomore year, I practically lived in the library for lunch and after school, trying to avoid Peter and the rest of my bullies. In that year, I became great friends with Ms. Scott, the librarian. She just sits behind her desk reading stories all day, and on the once in a lifetime chance that someone needs librarian help for a research paper, she finds them the right books.
Ms. Scott is actually very young to be stuck in a school library doing nothing but read all day long. I once asked her why she thought this would be a good job.
“My husband-to-be, Jim, was a geography teacher, and he got a job at this school. I had studied to be a librarian for a big fancy library in Washington, but when I saw how much he wanted to teach these students I applied for a job here too.
“The week before we moved here, Jim got shot while walking home from the grocery store. He died instantly Georgie, and I miss him more every day. But in his memory I moved here and tried to teach the students he so desperately wanted to know.
“I can’t bring myself to go anywhere else. This is the place where our life would’ve been. You know my biggest regret Georgie? I regret that I had asked the wedding be held off until after we moved. My sweet Jim didn’t protest, but we were never married thanks to my decision. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I will ever love, and I’m spending my days in a dusty old library because this place is Jim. He’s here Georgie, this is where we’re closest. And I won’t leave until I can join him again.”
I had tears in my eyes after that, and instead of reading romance novels, I talk to Ms. Scott, asking her about Jim. The way she talks about him, you can see the love surrounding her, a halo of light guiding her way. I like to think that Jim is always standing at her shoulder, smiling at her as she talks about him. I wish I could have what Ms. Scott and Jim had.
“Hi Ms. Scott,” I called as I walked in the library. “How are you today?”
“Georgie, I’m great! You’re the first student in here all year, congratulations!” Ms. Scott said, throwing a handful of paper confetti over me.
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner. I was busy getting used to the schedule. The first week is always intense, but now that we’ve moved onto the second week, I found time to visit my favorite librarian.”
“I’m the only librarian you know Georgie,” Ms. Scott said with a smile.
“That’s why you’re my favorite!” I grinned. Ms. Scott laughed with me for a moment.
“You’re corner is all set up and ready. I even changed the light bulbs and invested in a beanbag.” I once again assured her she was my favorite librarian and left to find my corner.
Ms. Scott decorated the sides of the bookshelves surrounding my corner with posters, hiding the little doorway I had made. Really it was a piece of wood that had two handles, so I could easily move it to one side, and then put it back in place from the other side with the other handles. If you were paying close attention, you would notice that the wall doesn’t go all the way up to the ceiling and above the wall there is a section that goes back very far. Thankfully, no one came into the library, and if they did they definitely didn’t venture into the farthest back corner.
I had finished my lunch and was reading Ella Enchanted for at least the tenth time when Ms. Scott came to find me.
“Reading it again Georgie?” she asked. Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine is a book for like, 4th-6th graders, and possibly younger ages. It’s amazing it’s even in a high-school library. But it’s my favorite book and I’ll read it over and over again quite willingly.
“You know I can’t resist Ms. Scott. It calls to my soul,” I joked. “Is it five minute warning already?”
Ms. Scott and I have a system. No matter what time I get here, Ms. Scott will come find me five minutes before the bell rings so that I have time to gather my things and get to Mr. Toms’ class on time.
“Yup, sorry Georgie, but I have to kick you out. Have a great class and don’t forget to come see me more often!” the librarian said.
“I’ll do that Ms. Scott. Thank you so much for the new parts of the corner, I love it,” I said. I gave her a hug and walked out of the library with a last farewell.
Note to Self George: Visit Ms. Scott more often. She’s all alone in the library and deserves some company. Also, bring some chocolate chip cookies next time. She loves those, even when I burn them. Ms. Scott’s a big believer in “It’s the thought that counts.”
After school I stopped in one last time to see Ms. Scott and say a goodbye, wishing her a nice evening. Then I ran to the grocery store to pick up cookie ingredients and some more pasta noodles for supper. We have pasta so often, you’d think I’d get sick of it. But really, my mom’s spaghetti is so amazing I don’t even notice when we have it twice or three times a week.
Later that night Breton knocked on the door to borrow pasta sauce. “Deja vu,” he teased. I blushed, but pointed out that at least I had clothes on. We both laughed.
~~
Well that was awkward. I have so many characters now, I don't even know where they keep coming from. Like, Ms. Scott was not supposed to do anything except say hi to Georgie in a bored tone, and that was it. No more Ms. Scott for the rest of the book. And "the gang" isn't really in this chapter either. Neither are her bullies. GAH! I've got so many characters I can't keep track of them! But never fear, I have a plan.
PLEASE vote, comment, fan, and possibly add to your library. :)