WHEN I SEE Natalie in Creative Writing again, the next day, I can't believe my eyes. She had moved her desk back so she's sitting next to Jake. They were chatting together and giggling before I showed up. I plop down and shove my desk back I'm closer to Natalie's right, and the two of them immediately look away from each other. I notice that Jake clears his throat and starts making small talk with the guy behind him.
"Were you guys talking about me?" I ask Natalie. For some reason, I'm suddenly worried that I have a bit of toilet paper stuck on my heel or one of my blouse buttons had popped open.
"Not everything is about you, sweetie," Natalie purrs. "Just so you know, Jake is taking me to Barcade this weekend."
"Oh yeah, Jake Villin and his fake ID," I reply with a roll of my eyes. I like to roll my eyes a lot, or so I'm told. Back in Queens, rolling my eyes was my only defense against our nutty teachers. Now I'm doing it because Natalie's revelation that she's dating Jake has left me speechless and angry. I'm a writer, but I can't put into words how hurt I feel.
Why? Was Jake ever mine, to begin with?
I see Natalie reach over me to stroke Jake's arm. He smiles back at her like they're sharing a secret.
I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous.
I tell myself this even though I sit with my arms tightly crossed across my chest while Mr. Kleeman calls attendance.
How dare Natalie agree to go out with Jake? He's my Jake. She would never have spoken to him if I hadn't brought the two of them together.
"He's even shown me some of his short stories," Natalie gushes and stares at the seat behind me. It's like Mr. Kleeman no longer exists on this planet. How can an ordinary English Teacher compare to Jake's rugged, tanned biceps? "He's so talented. His writing is just dee-vine!"
Jake meets my eyes, and I can barely stifle a derisive chuckle. I can't believe it. Jake Villin finally has a fan.
One single fan.
"I think Jake keeps his secrets close to his chest. That's why all his shirts are so tight. He's just bursting with talent," I remark through clenched teeth.
"We talked all night, last night," Natalie whispers to me fifteen minutes later as we exchange flash fiction for critiquing. "Jake says he would love to take me on a motorcycle ride. Can you believe it? I bet you've never been on a motorcycle."
"No, I haven't, and I never want to, thank you."
"Hey, have you and Nick . . .ahem . . .kissed yet? Can you give me some tips?"
Ugh, I want to recoil in horror. I am not going to coach her on how to kiss Jake Villin!
"Sure, a kiss is like . . .like arm wrestling with your tongue. Just be bold about it. Go for it."
"Really?"
"Guys love it when a girl isn't shy. And remember to make it wet and juicy. They love that. Pretend like you're a cat giving him a bath with your mouth."
And I'm trying to sabotage her, as only an experienced skank from Queens knows how. Yes, Natalie, give him a bath with your saliva! Boys love that. I know I'm petty, but I don't know how else to manage my hurt feelings. If I were a guy, this is the part where I would sock her in the jaw and knock out a couple of her coffee-stained teeth.
"Did you learn that with Nick or in a public school in Queens?" Natalie asks with her eyes as wide as dinner plates. It was as though she couldn't believe that vanilla-as-apple pie Nick would teach me such a thing.
"I learned it in the same place where I learned to shoplift a 7-11," I reply with a sigh as though this is obvious.
~*~
I don't know why losing Jake to Natalie bothers me so much. I bet he doesn't even like her writing or cares whether she writes at all.
Maybe, that's not something Jake even looks for in a girl.
All this time, I thought we had a special connection with each other just because we followed each other online.
Jake has the nerve to come up to me during lunch. As I see him walking up to me, his book bag over one shoulder and a rakish smirk on his face, I feel my blood start to boil.
I guess I could have hidden away in the library, but then Jake would think that I was avoiding him. I don't need to hide. He should be the one hiding after asking Natalie out less than 24 hours after he proclaimed on Princess Silver's message board that he loved me.
"You're unhappy about something," Jake surmises as he sits down across from me and slams a crumpled-up brown lunch bag on the table. From it, he withdraws the world's sloppiest looking peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "What? Is Nick making you play fantasy football with him?"
"No."
"Then what's up? The stalkers bothering you again?"
"No," I snap back. I take a bite of my meatballs and spaghetti. It tastes a bit like dried play-doh. Jake unwraps his sandwich and aggressively rips a spout into his chocolate milk carton. Oh, that's cute; he actually went and got that from the lunch line today. Was he looking for me? Did he go through all that trouble just to sit and eat with me? Usually, he sits outside with his sandwich and drinks out of an unlabelled water bottle. Was he here to taunt me?
"Then what?"
I swallow my spaghetti and put my spork down. "Nothing. Listen, I don't need you involved in my online drama anymore. You're right; I'm just going to ignore those losers. You can go now, have a nice day."
"Wow, I see. You've angry because we haven't made any progress on catching those assholes. That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You'll be happy to find out that I have a lead on your weirdo photographer."
I shove some more spaghetti into my mouth to keep from having to reply to him. Maybe if I ignore him long enough, he'll get the hint and walk away.
"I analyzed the first picture you sent me, the one with your eyes crossed out. I traced it to an address in Brooklyn. If I went there and say some threatening things to this chick who is sending you these messages, maybe she'll be smart enough to stop. These internet freaks aren't nearly as tough as they pretend to be if you walk up to them in real life."
"How will you know it's her? All you have is an address?"
"You want to come with me? Maybe you'll recognize the sound of her voice. You've been getting prank calls for weeks, right?"
"I guess," I reply. I hate confrontation, but I guess this is the only way. "When do you want to do it?"
"Tonight?"
"Nah, I can't. I have to study for an Econ Quiz on Friday."
"Friday afternoon?"
"Aren't you taking Natalie on a date that night?"
"Natalie and I are not going on a date. It's just hanging out," Jake says with a sigh.
"Does she know that?"
"Stop it. We can hang out before I meet up with her. The bar doesn't even get busy until past four anyway."
"Are you sure she knows it's not a date?" I ask with perhaps too much curiosity in my tone of voice. Jake gives me a bemused smirk.
"Maybe it is. Do you care?"
"Natalie is my friend. Don't pump and dump her, like you do with all your other girls."
"If I remember correctly, I was the one who was pumped and dumped," Jake says and runs his fingers through his messy bedroom hair.
He flashes a smile back at me that vaguely resembles a smarmy pirate. It's like behind his bemused eyes, Jake is relishing the act of teasing me. He doesn't say the words, but the intent is obvious. He lounged back in the plastic chair and grins at me as he eats his sandwich in two bites. From my vantage point, I can see every twitch of his muscular torso.
It's like his sexy abs are whispering in my ear — tell me you don't want this.
Yeah, Jake Villin is an impressive piece of man-meat. I'll give him that. He looks even yummier now that he's not bruised from his street fight. I can see why Natalie is going ga-ga for him.
Jake Villin is like a fantasy of a dark, brooding, bad boy brought to life.
How can a good girl like Natalie resist?
Except, he's mine. Or rather, he's WilderLuna15's minion as PrincessSilver accused him of being.
Jake Villin is the boy I didn't choose.
That doesn't make him any less mine.