by Cassie Mae
Instead, I link arms with him and we follow everyone into the library. Us virgins and prudes and whatever other label they give us, we have to stick together.
“Everyone has name tags. Please find who you’re assigned to quietly.”
Giant Guy waves his arm again like he’s dismissing us, and we all tentatively disperse. Eighth graders sit at round tables in the center of the library. Some have computers in front of their faces, others books, and some nothing. But I can tell they’re texting under the table.
I walk through, wishing my eyesight was better or I’d have the nerve to tell Mom and Dad I need new contacts because I swear I have to come up so close to read their nametags I’m invading personal space.
After most everyone has found who they’re partnered with, I go for the process of elimination tactic and wait till there’s only one girl left in the room.
Doesn’t take too much longer. When I catch her lounging with her feet up on an opposite chair, smacking her gum and doodling in a big yellow notebook, I can’t believe I didn’t figure it was Levi’s sister right away.
She’s got the same blond hair, longer of course, hanging down almost to her waist. Her face is rounder than Levi’s, but they have the same nose. Hers is more feminine, but it’s the same shape. I take the two steps to her table and sit down across from her.
“Hey! Brea, right?”
She doesn’t even look at me. Her fingers swipe over her name tag, and she says, “No shit, Sherlock.”
Oh wow. She may look like she’s related to her brother, but she’s nothing like him.
“Well, I’m Sierra. Nice to meet you.” Pleasantries. I’m actually kind of scared to meet her now.
“I know who you are.” She laughs and rips the page she’d been writing on out of her notebook. She crumples and tosses it on the table. “You’re that girl that rammed her car into a tree.”
A hollow laugh escapes my throat and I say, “I guess my reputation precedes me.”
“In your case, it’d probably be better if it didn’t.” She slams her feet on the floor and sets the notebook down. I watch her tap her pencil against it while she stares at me.
“Uh…” I mumble because the silence is awkward, and I have no idea how to fill it but to sputter out noises.
Brea laughs, flips her hair around, and starts braiding it. “Look, I get we’re supposed to be friends and shit. After this month of mentoring, we’ll skip off into the sunset and look back on this time as one of the ‘best moments ever!’” Her baby voice pinches my nerves, and I have to blink a few times to make sure I’m not having some horrible nightmare. This is so not how I pictured this going. I actually pictured what she just described. “But listen. My brother forced me to do this. I’m playing along because I don’t want to fight with him. But I am not going to be your friend. I’m not going to ask questions or pretend like I give a rat’s ass about high school.”
Maybe it wasn’t snark on her get-to-know-me sheet. Maybe she was just being a bitch.
I straighten my back and cross my arms.
“Well, I only agreed to do this to impress a guy.”
“What kind of loser would be impressed by a mentorship program? Was it that dorky kid you walked in with?”
She nods to Adam who’s paired with a kid who’s about five inches taller than him. And that’s sitting down. He gives me a half-smile before going back to his mentoring. At least his partner looks friendly.
“Adam’s not a dork.” I refuse to let air fill my cheeks as I glare at her. “That ‘loser’ I’m trying to impress is your brother.”
Her eyebrows go up, and she gives me a once over, then bursts out laughing. “Unless you play the saxophone or something, you’re shit out of luck.” She finishes her impromptu braid and swings it around her shoulder.
I lean across the table. “I’m trying to offer you a deal here. Otherwise, I can make your life pretty miserable for the next month.” It’s an empty threat, but I have to sort of improv here.
“Yeah, right. I’ll probably cause more hell than you would.”
I don’t doubt her. Snatching her crumpled piece of paper, I toy with it just for something to do with my hands. “I can be a pretty chipper person. I can be smiles and all cupcakes and glitter. In your face all day every day for the next month, raining down nothing but unicorns and puppy dogs. If you think you can handle that, then by all means, don’t listen to what I have to say.”
I put on my best baby doll smile and bat my eyes, oozing fifties show barf. She wrinkles her nose at me.
“What kind of deal…?”
Triumph! I let go of the sweet and replace it with business. “You can do whatever the heck you want to do. I just need access to your house. I need deets on your brother. Anything that I can use to help me snag him. And if you cooperate, I’ll tell him we spent all day together, doing all that sweet crap we’re supposed to.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “So, if I want to make out with my boyfriend all day instead of hang with you, you’ll say we were together as long as I give you dirt on my brother. Do I have that right?”
“That’s one example, yes.”
She taps her notebook, snapping her gum. I’m hoping she doesn’t run straight to Levi to tell him what a manipulative and desperate fool I am. But she seems to be the kind of person who only cares about herself.
Unless this was some sort of test and I totally failed! Oh no. What if Levi told her to be all bitchy to see if I’d still be nice and instead I throw bitch right back at her?
No wait. He still doesn’t know I’m mentoring his sister. I’m being paranoid.
She stops smacking her gum and looks at me. “You know, you’re not too bad, Sierra. I say you’ve got yourself a deal.”
***
Four in the morning and again I’m woken up by that buzzing. It doesn’t make me mad anymore though. It sends rockets through my stomach, and I leap up to catch a glimpse of Levi on his cute little scooter.
I need to get a grip on my thoughts when I’m around him. I always forget to ask about the four in the morning drives and the pick-a-whoozit instrument. But I have Brea now to help with all of that.
Plopping back down on my mattress, I let out a super girly I’m-totally-crushed-out sigh. Is it possible to feel your entire body floating just from seeing the most adorable and beautiful boy in the world? I close my eyes and fantasize about his lips, about his hair, about his khaki shorts.
Thump
“Ouch! Dammit.”
“Shh, you’ll wake my parents.”
“You pushed me out of the bed!”
“I was sleeping. It’s not like I meant to.”
Giggle, creak, slurp.
“Maybe I’ll sleep right here”—Oomph—“so you don’t kick me out again.”
Ugh. I slam my fist on the wall a couple times so they know their conversation isn’t private.
They go silent. Well, I think I hear Zoe giggle a few more times, but I’m almost asleep again. Maybe one day Levi will be my Zak. Oh, wouldn’t that be all sorts of amazing?
I start going into fantasies again, cuddling with my big body pillow, pretending it’s actually Levi, and he’s the one making me giggle like a blissed out fool.
Chapter 7
It’s official. I’ve become a stalker.
My cheeks may explode into oblivion. Why did I sign up for Debate when I hate making speeches? I don’t know what possessed me to do such a stupid thing. Was I daydreaming when I filled out the form? I really want a time machine. Take me back to my very first speech a year ago so I’m reminded of this crap, and I don’t sign up for it again.
There has to be some whispering or snickering or something from my classmates, but I don’t hear any of it. All I hear is my thundering heart. To make my embarrassment ten times worse, Levi’s standing next to me, having already delivered his part of the argument. We’re behind the huge podium together, and I can feel his eyes on my balloon face, and I want to cry.
I
slowly let the air out from my mouth, blowing the brown strands of hair that have fallen from my ponytail. “Uh…” I clack my teeth. “Um… vending machines… they, um…”
Someone save me!
Now I hear the laughter because it’s getting louder than my heartbeat. Ms. Young yells a loud, “Shh!” then waves back at me as if the laughter is what’s interrupting my speech. It’ll be puke in a second. I should warn the people in the front row they’re in the splash zone.
Levi shuffles next to me, and I close my eyes. Maybe if I can’t see anything that’ll stop the panic attack.
Warm fingers touch mine behind the podium, and I jolt back. I open my eyes to Levi’s blue ones, and he’s doing that cute half-smile, but I’m too freaked out to appreciate what it does to my insides.
He goes for my hand again, and I let him. His thumb runs along my knuckles, rubbing soothing circles. With each stroke, he pulls out a line of nerves going through my body, and after a few breaths, I’m able to deliver more than two words.
The bell rings in the middle of my argument. Ms. Young says we’ll pick up tomorrow with the rest of my speech, and that makes me want to cry all over again. But Levi’s still rubbing my hand, so I guess it’s not all bad news.
“Did you picture everyone in their underwear?” he asks, bending over to pick up his little instrument case. He’s still holding my hand.
“No. Maybe I should do that next time so I don’t fumble all over myself.”
“You did great.” He squeezes my fingers, then drops them. I almost snatch his hand back. “Tomorrow will be nothing now that you’ve passed the scary stuff.”
“Talking is the scary stuff.”
He chuckles and flops his hair from his forehead. “I can hold your hand through it again, if that helps.” His face goes Crayola red. He scratches his nose and refuses to look at me. How super cute.
“I-it definitely helped.”
We get into the hallway, and I feel like I’m filled with helium every time he “accidentally” brushes against my arm. He asks if he can take me home today, but damn it, I already promised Adam I’d do a history test cram session before I headed to my mentoring. But I finally bring up that I’m paired with Brea. Yay for not letting the Levi brain cloud warp my mind into forgetting to mention that. Again.
“Really?” His eyebrow arches, and his smile sort of fades. “She said she wasn’t going to do the mentorship thing.”
I shrug. “I guess she changed her mind. I met her yesterday. She’s…” I pause, trying to find the right word for Brea. I don’t want to spout off how sweet she is, since she’s so not. But I also don’t want to tell him what my first impression really was.
“Spunky?” he offers. And we both laugh.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t let her get to you. She has a hard time trusting people.”
Oh, I don’t think trust is her problem. But I nod anyway. He’s known her all her life, and I’ve only got about twenty minutes, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.
We get to our crossroad, where he jets off to Spanish 3 and I go to Physics. I pull in a deep breath and let it out with a smile.
“Guess I’ll see you in Band.”
He goes all red again. “Oh yeah. I forget sometimes you’re in there.” He lets out this weird laugh. “What made you transfer?”
I go to tell him about how the music helps me study or whatever that line of bull Adam provided me was, but the one minute bell rings through the hall, and I don’t get anything out.
“Tell me later. Gotta run.”
Next thing I know I’m swallowed in his arms for a brief moment that feels like a hundred years and a hundredth of a second at the same time. My legs turn to spaghetti when he lets go and hurries to his class. I’m surprised I get to Physics on time. Because with my noodle legs, I can barely walk.
***
“I kissed her.”
All the juice I just put in my mouth goes flying out, all over Adam’s glasses. His face smooshes as he takes them off and wipes them down his button-up.
“I’m sorry,” I sputter, patting at the dribble on my chin with the sleeve of my jacket. “But holy crap, Adam. Are you for real?”
He slides his glasses back on his nose, then runs his hand through his hair. He pulls on the back of his head and slams it down on the library desk. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I didn’t even know you liked her.” The first hint I got was when he tried holding her hand. I had no idea there was something else. Before or after or… when the heck did this happen?
I’m so self-involved I don’t even notice my best friends’ stuff till they aren’t talking to each other. Bah, I need to slap myself for being such a bogus friend.
“I didn’t know I did either. I’m not even sure I do. I don’t know.” He lifts his head up, but keeps his chin planted on the desk. “How do I fix it? What do I say?”
I shake my head, my mouth still stuck open. How am I supposed to know what to do here? I’ve never kissed one of my best friends, and they’ve never kissed me. I can’t even think about that happening. Maybe Sydney feels the same?
“Well, you probably shocked her. I bet she has no idea what to say either.”
“So…you think I should just… keep pretending like she’s not avoiding me?”
I reach over and smack him lightly across the top of his head. “Hell no, doofus.” He laughs and sits upright, and I point a finger at him. “Talk. To. Her. Seriously, you guys are killing me with the silent treatments. I want my friends back.”
“I still have no idea what to say.”
I shrug. “Tell her how you feel. Or that you’re sorry. Whatever it is that comes out when you see her. But do it fast, Adam. Like today.”
“Okay. But if things get weirder, I’m blaming you.”
I roll my eyes. “Noted.”
“Can we change the subject now?”
“I actually have to get running. I’m meeting Brea at 3:15.”
Adam reaches down for his backpack and hikes it on his shoulder. “Ah yes. The mentor thing. She going to be there, or is she just letting you in the house?”
“I have no idea.” But my insides are going nuts thinking about being in Levi Mason’s house. Maybe catching a glimpse of his room. Brea said he wasn’t going to be home, so I have all the snooping time in the world. I should feel bad about it, but I don’t. I kind of like feeling a little naughty without all the guilt from people at school that every single thing I do makes me a tease.
I’m not teasing Levi. I don’t want him to think my reputation is who I am. I want him to see someone else. Like someone he’ll want to be with.
So I gotta find out who that someone is.
“Have you even seen his house?”
I nod. “It’s this cute thing a couple neighborhoods away from mine. White picket fence and all that special stuff.”
“But you’ve never been inside.”
“No. Why would I? He’s Zoe’s friend.”
“I don’t know. Seems weird that you’ve liked this guy for so long, yet you don’t really know much about him.”
I want to smack him upside the head again, but I restrain myself. “I know plenty,” I bite back, and then hold my breath to keep from arguing. I don’t want to start a fight with him right before he’s about to talk to Sydney.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad, too.” He runs his hands over his hair again. “I just, I guess I’m jealous. Guys like him don’t have to do anything to get an awesome girl to like them. I feel like I have to work so damn hard.”
Great. Now he says things like that, making me feel like total crap for wanting to smack him. “That’s not true, Adam. I bet you have lots of girls lined up, doodling your name all over their notebooks, but like me with Levi, they’re too terrified to tell you.”
He smiles and shakes his head at me. “Thanks. You’re wrong, but thanks.”
We walk arm through arm again to his car, and thank
heavens not a lot of people stay after school for very long, because I’m sure I’d get crap about the whole touching a guy thing. Adam follows my directions to Levi’s house, and when we pull up both of us crick our necks to the side.
“You sure this is where he lives?”
I nod, eyeing the kiddy play place in the front yard, along with a tricycle and big kick balls. “Um, maybe Brea babysits?” It’s the only excuse I can think of, but I doubt that girl spends any time with kids.
My fingers wrap around the door handle, and I look at Adam. “Stay till I get inside?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I don’t want to admit I’m for certain this is his house because I would walk by it all the time for S and G’s, but it’s been a while. My heart thumps unevenly as I walk up the porch and ring the doorbell.
A dog barks, which is weird because I didn’t think Levi had a dog. Now my heart is trying to beat out of my chest, hop off the porch, and drive away with Adam before I embarrass myself.
This cute mom opens the door, and gone is my heart, and my stomach, because I’ve seen Levi’s mom, and this is not her.
“Can I help you?” she asks. Her hair is all bunched up like she hasn’t brushed it for days, and a toddler with no pants on peeks from behind her legs. Even though she’s got a loose shirt on and stained jeans, I feel like taking a picture for my Pinterest board because she rocks the “Mom” look.
“Um, sorry. I think I have the wrong house.” Even as I say it, I swear on my squishy body pillow this is his house.
“Who are you looking for, hun? We just moved in a couple weeks ago.”
That explains it. “Um, Levi Mason?”
“Yes, his family moved out. I’m not sure where though.” She gives me a sympathetic frown, and I try to smile.
“That’s okay. Thanks for your help.”
I dodge all the kiddy toys in the yard and hop back in Adam’s car.
