When I slammed my locker shut, there stood Bryan hidden behind it. I balked. Apart from the occasional taunt, the kid hadn't so much as given me the time of day in four years. I didn't blame him. In eighth grade, he'd cornered me and asked me out like an arrogant little schoolboy, and I'd shot him down quicker than a Gatling gun.
I'd never forget it.
School had ended for the day. The teacher had stepped out for a moment, leaving Bryan and me in the classroom on our own. When I tried to leave in order not to be late for my ride home, he blocked my path. First to the left, then to the right.
With a resigned sigh, I looked up at him. "What do you want?"
"Go out with me this weekend," he replied, his hazel eyes twinkling.
"Why?"
Now that answer surprised him, judging by his shocked expression. The poor kid had probably heard every response from, "Yeah, bad boy, where should we meet?" to "Why don'tcha go kiss a piranha plant?"
But he'd probably never expected the answer why.
"Come on, Jess." He blocked my way again, this time with a more serious mien. "Go out with me. You know you want to."
He wasn't completely wrong. A part of me found him very attractive with that mixture of Franco-Italian good looks. I could lose myself in those smoldering eyes. Loved that spiky dark hair. His body carefully sculpted thanks to hours of football practice and weight training.
Not only that, but he wasn't half-bad at school. Bryan could be charismatic when he wasn't an arrogant ass-hat, a kind and loyal friend to his teammates.
But he bothered me too.
The haughtiness in his expression burned me like a flame. Me, the curvy girl with one dorky friend. Him, the sculpted jock everyone loved. Me, the sci-fi fantasy nerd. Him, the future football pro. Me, the introvert. Him, the extrovert.
How dare I say that? it seemed to ask me.
In retrospect I realized his pride had simply shielded his nerves, but back then I thought he was nuts. Guys like him didn't date girls like me because it was political suicide. That was the unspoken rule of junior high.
Besides, we would have hated each other because we had nothing in common. We would never last.
I knew what popular jocks like Bryan wanted on dates. He gathered pretty women like notches on his cane of conquests.
My appeal?
No one could convince me, so he was in it for the chase, for the thrill of the hunt.
Ew. Just ew.
"No," I replied.
His mirth vanished. "No?"
Pressing my books against my chest, I gave him a curt nod. "That's right, no."
"Why not?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
"Because you're conceited and you have no interest in me as a person," I replied. "So, the answer is no."
I walked away from him without another word. And I never looked back.
Fast forward to today. Never did we speak a kind word to one another after that day, apart from a begrudging greeting at church. We Christian kids needed to keep up the appearance of civility in front of our families, but that was it.
Until now.
Leaning lazily against my locker, Bryan looked even more chiseled and more conceited than ever before.
"Nice debate, Perez." He gave me a half-smile. "Didn't pull any punches, huh?"
"Hope I didn't hurt your girlfriend's feelings," I said, standing ramrod straight. "Debate is my version of football, and she fought for the other team."
"Nah, it's cool..."
Bryan gave me a once-over from head to toe. No idea why. We wore these lame patterns that didn't even suit a slender person. That probably explained why all the girls tried to be skinny chic.
As for me, I couldn't cajole my weird-ass body type into skinny chic even if I tried. I'd inherited broad man-shoulders, pale-ass skin, and giant boobs from my crazy Irish wardrobe of a mother.
Thanks for the added cancer risk. Really appreciate it.
The raven-black hair, short but squat frame, and brown eyes? That was all I knew of Dad. Once he'd discovered how nutzoid my mother was, he probably did the smart thing and ran away quicker than he could say holy crap in a handbasket.
Probably didn't even know I existed. Never mind.
Both sides of the family gave me curves up the wazoo. Curves that gained me zero popularity in the late nineties. Apart from the ones that appealed to every generation, every gender, and quite possibly most mammals.
Thanks, guys. Way to go.
In contrast to my fellow students, I weighed in at a very wholesome one-forty. On a good day. Given my five-foot-two frame, it made me quite curvy indeed. Roomy as Hannibal Lecter would phrase it. This shitty Catholic school uniform didn't flatter any of my curves at all.
Not even the good ones.
Excuse me if I wanted to eat more than three leaves of lettuce for lunch.
Bryan chipped away at the paint on the locker. "You going to church this Sunday?"
I nodded. "Yep, I'm a lector this week."
He gave me a blank look.
"I'm doing the first reading at twelve o'clock mass," I explained.
"Oh..." He blushed. "Cool. I might see you there. Or might not. Depends."
My cheeks flushed as I pressed my books close to my chest. "That'd be nice."
His eyes brightened. "Yeah?"
"Always good to keep the Sabbath day holy," I said, frowning with puzzlement at myself as the words tumbled from my lips.
What the hell, Jess? Quoting the Bible now? Ya weirdo.
Bryan gave me an equally quizzical look. Before either one of us could say another word, I took off like a bat outta hell. Running until I reached the cafeteria.
My heart thudded against my ribs. Jesus Christ! What was that?
Desire? No.
Anger? No.
Nerves?
Yeah, that was it. Nerves.
The same ones that came after accidentally sneezing all over your prodigious chest. Even though you'd covered your nose and mouth. Because your nasal incident was just that awesome.
The kind of nerves that left me thinking, Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Get me the hell outta here.
Bryan raced down the stairs as he always did to show off his athletic agility, taking two or three at a time. He stopped only to cast me a casual glance before he walked towards the popular table, the one with his football friends and their girlfriends.
St. Stephen's royalty.
Needless to say, I belonged with the peons. The plebes. The more nerd-tastically inclined.
My best friend Carolyn Stavros pored over some random fantasy book while eating a packet of M&Ms and drinking Diet Coke.
Ah, my kind of lunch.
I made my way towards her.
We both took Spanish and French together, the only two people out of over a hundred in our junior class to even contemplate learning more than one foreign language. It bonded us. Along with our love of fantasy novels and being raised by grandparents. Not to mention our similar appearance.
Half-Latina and full-blooded Greek looked remarkably alike.
We could have been sisters. Almost.
"Hey, Care."
"Hey, Jess." She gestured at the empty chair. "I saved you a seat."
"Thanks. Whatcha readin'?"
"Oh, this?" She blushed and adjusted her glasses. "It's about a boy who learns he's a wizard. It came out a few months ago, and I resisted as long as I possibly could."
"Isn't that book for kids?"
"Oh, hell, no! You'd love it." She grinned. "What about you?"
"Der kleine Prinz. Only book written in German that they have in stock." I placed it beside the original French edition and began to take notes. "Finally saved enough money to buy it. Gotta make it last."
"Why the hell did they have to close the damn library?" she asked with an irritated sigh.
"I know, right? Budget cuts." I shrugged. "Now whenever I want a German book, I have to order it from the bookstore."
"Goodbye, free books." She shook her head. "Whoever heard of a school without a library?"
"Remember when we used to hang out there?"
She nodded. "So much better than a crowded cafeteria. We used Cello to browse the Web."
"It was so quiet."
"Between you and me," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I think the online thing was part of the reason why they closed it."
"Don't look at me." I held up my palms in mock surrender. "I used it to get daily news printouts in German."
We sniggered and I exchanged a handful of Skittles for her leftover M&Ms after I'd scarfed down a small package of Doritos. Care dumped two or three of the Skittles into her Diet Coke, resulting in an eruption of effervescence that would make Mount Vesuvius envious.
She leaped back just in time, toppling her chair with a loud bang so that the fizz wouldn't overflow onto our books. "Oops, sorry! Next time I'll use only one."
"Uhh..."
"It takes away the fizz." Her cheeks burned crimson while lots of people stared at us mopping up the mess. "Bothers my stomach."
"Gotcha."
Care was such an odd girl. But I loved her anyway.
"You know, you should talk to Madame Waters," said Care. "I saw some German novels on her bookshelf, not just French ones. If you ask her, she might suggest some resources."
"Good call! I didn't notice."
The warning bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"For the love of God, do they want us to wolf down our food?" groaned Care.
"We call this the Rush Diet."
"Doesn't work for me."
"You're telling me."
We gathered up our stuff and hurried upstairs after the others began the mad dash to class. On our way, Jack the Jock ogled us in the hallway, slouched against the wall with Bryan and another idiot football player.
"Just ignore them," whispered Care under her breath.
Why Bryan hung out with those jerks defied comprehension. Sure, they were his teammates. Jack was the star quarterback or whatever the hell rank made him think he was king of the freaking universe.
If Jack weren't such a monumental ass-hat, he'd appear somewhat attractive. He had wavy brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, and a charming smile that gave me heart palpitations once.
Well, it was either that or I'd drunk a bit too much caffeine.
Maybe both. My heart could multitask.
Now it took all my strength to resist punching him in the nose.
"Oh, Jessicaaa!" Jack called out to me in a wolfish sing-song.
I kept my head down and stormed away from him. What a fuckwit! My name was Jess. Everyone knew my name was Jess. Only my biological mother called me Jessica, and I hated her freaking guts.
Just like I hated Jack's.
"Heard someone was a real bitch in Religion today!" he shouted after me. "That time of the month?"
Heard someone was a real dumb-ass and couldn't make Honors Religion, I retorted inside my head. Was that you?
Oh, look! Yes, it was. Poor guy.
If I hadn't been raised by grandparents who belonged to the mid-eighteenth century, I would have flipped him the bird with both hands. Instead, I ignored him. And cursed him in German.
Didn't learn that in The Little Prince.
"What was that, Perez?" shouted Jack. "We speak English in this country."
Oh, screw you!
Care struggled to keep up with my strident pace as I marched to French class. "Ignore him, Jess. He's not worth it."
"One time!" I spat through gritted teeth as I came to an abrupt halt. "One time I laughed at his jokes in Physics. That was freaking freshman year. Ages ago! I can't even remember what he said."
"He's an arrogant jerk."
"Yes, I thought he looked nice," I continued in an angry whisper. "Yes, I thought he was funny. And yes, maybe I did laugh a little too much and make a fool out of myself."
"Jess..."
"I couldn't help it, okay? Hormones suck!"
She gave me a reassuring look. "It's not you. It's him. He wants a reaction."
"But why?"
"Maybe he likes you?" suggested Care with a shrug.
"Whatever the reason, he's determined to make my life a living hell until graduation."
"Jack isn't that bad." She readjusted her glasses. "I mean, he sucks, but he didn't stick your head down a toilet."
"It's not like I asked him to date me." I growled in frustration. "So what the hell is his major malfunction? Is it a crime to laugh at jokes?"
"You like him, don't you?" she asked me with a devilish smile.
"Oh, don't you start!" I growled. "I wish I'd never laid eyes on Jack Kowalski. Well, he got his way—I'm not laughing anymore. He can go to hell!"
She grinned and batted her eyelashes. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Thanks, Hamlet." I rolled my eyes. "Projection, much?"
"Actually Queen Gertrude said that."
"Nerd."
"Oh, that's rich coming from you," she retorted, "Ms. I-Can-Quote-Star-Wars-by-heart."
"So can you!"
Jack passed me by, after which the barbarian turned to face me and blew me a kiss with an exaggerated wink. My cheeks turned bright crimson with indignation.
I swear to God and all the angels in heaven! That guy needs to crap his last turd. Right away!
Pursing my lips, I bit my tongue so as not to shout a very rude obscenity his way. Good thing too. A very grumpy Principal O'Leary stormed after Jack only moments later.
"Young man, you get back here this instant. Or the detention will become a suspension!"
Whew! Close one!
"Jack likes to tease you," said Care in a faint whisper. "Maybe he has a crush on you."
"Well, he can shove it up his—!"
The bell rang. After Care and I exchanged panicked looks, we sprinted for the French classroom, barely making it in time before Madame Waters began her class.
Great, my first day of French III and I'm already late.