by D. R. Graham
I opened my eyes. Steve stared at me eagerly. “What intention did you set?”
“Isn’t it like a wish? If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
He waved his hand to dismiss my concern. “Nah, the more people you tell, the stronger the intention will become.”
“What’s yours?”
“That you’ll go out with me on Saturday night.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Oh,” I muttered, totally unprepared for that.
His smile faded.
CHAPTER THREE
Thankfully, Mrs. Tookey lectured for the entire class, so Steve and I couldn’t finish the conversation about going out on Saturday night. I was not experienced at all in the world of dating. I needed to consult with Sophie before I gave Steve an answer. When Mrs. Tookey dismissed us, Lisa Alvarez grabbed Steve’s elbow to ask him a question. She did things like act dumb with guys to have an excuse to flirt, even though her grades were at least as good as mine. I took the opportunity to shoot out of my seat and rushed to disappear into the crowd of people in the hall.
I bit my fingernails through my next two classes, watching the clock impatiently. When lunch finally arrived, I pretty much sprinted to the lounge to check in with Nikolai. He still looked shell-shocked, but he had hooked up with another boy who he must have known from elementary school. They were sort of glued to each other. “How’s it going, Nikolai?”
“Um, okay,” he said as he glanced at his friend.
I smiled because his cartoon voice was ridiculously cute. “I’ll be sitting over there if you need anything.” I pointed to the table where I always met Sophie. Then it occurred to me I’d been gone for a year and actually had no idea what Sophie and the guys did for lunch anymore.
“Okay,” Nikolai said again, almost as if he was embarrassed I was hovering. He sat down with his friend at a table full of grade eights. Obviously, he didn’t need my help. I was the one who needed help. No one was at our old table yet, and Steve had already walked in with his friends. If he cornered me before I had a chance to talk to Sophie, I wouldn’t know how to act. Well, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t rocket science—say yes or no. The problem was, I didn’t know which to say.
I almost went back to sit with Nikolai and his grade-eight friends just so I wouldn’t be alone. I glanced around the students’ lounge, hoping to spot Sophie or Doug. Instead, I saw the new guy walk in surrounded by a bunch of grade-twelve girls, who had obviously offered to show him around and have lunch with him. My nose squished up and my lip curled unintentionally because they were the snottiest girls in our school. He sat down at a table squeezed between Corrine Andrews on his right and Paige Peterson on his left. When he glanced up, our eyes accidentally met, so I quickly stared at the floor. I covered my mouth with my hand in case I still had the snarled-lip thing going on. The next time I checked, he was smiling—I couldn’t tell why. Corrine might have said something funny, not that she was known for her wit.
Steve sat at a corner table with a bunch of guys. He scanned the room and stopped at me. My heart raced like a baby gazelle separated from the herd.
“Hey, Derian,” Lisa Alvarez said as she put a tray with an apple and water on the table next to me. Her smile and tone weren’t exactly genuine when she said, “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.” When did she start sitting at the table with Sophie and the guys? Had she been my substitute? If they were trying to replace me, I would have preferred if they had chosen someone with a sliver of integrity.
She sat down and said, “I saw your brother drop you off this morning. Is he dating anyone?”
“Trevor’s not my brother. He’s my neighbour.”
Surprised, she said, “Really? He acts like he’s your brother. Is he single?”
Her eyes were gorgeous, big, with long lashes. And her lips were famous. She’d been every guy’s fantasy girl since her figure developed in grade seven. But Trevor didn’t date insecure girls, girly girls, or girls younger than him. None that I knew of. Even if Lisa Alvarez miraculously gained self-respect, she didn’t have a chance with him. “You’re not Trevor’s type.”
She flipped her long, shiny, brown hair over her shoulders and laughed. “I’m everyone’s type.”
I couldn’t argue with that, if all they were looking for was someone to get lucky with. Thankfully, Sophie, Doug, and the guys from their band had showed up. Sophie leaned in to speak closely to Lisa’s face in an intimidating way, “Trevor likes classy girls, Lisa. You haven’t got a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Why don’t we let him be the judge of that?” She bit into her apple and looked pretty cocky.
Sophie pointed and said, “Sit over at that table. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Unfazed, Lisa stood with an arrogant grin and wandered over to sit with a different group of grade elevens. If Sophie did that to me, I’d be bawling, so either Lisa was made of Teflon, or she was a master at burying the humiliation. I grabbed Sophie’s arm and dragged her out of the lounge before she had a chance to cause more trouble.
“Wow, you’re eager.” Sophie laughed. “Okay, his name is Mason Cartwright. He’s in grade twelve and just moved to Squamish from Ottawa. His dad owns some sort of import company, and they’re filthy, stinking, disgusting, crazy rich. Apparently his dad commutes to work in a damn helicopter.”
“What? That’s not what I want to talk about. Wait, how did you find all that out so fast?”
“I called Julie at the hair salon. She gets the low-down on everyone. What did you want to talk about?”
“I think Steve asked me out on a date for this Saturday night.”
“You think?”
“He didn’t actually ask. We did this thing in English class where you set an intention and put it out there so the universe will make it come true. His intention was that I would go out with him Saturday night.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing, yet. Tookey started talking and then I ran out of the classroom before he had a chance to ask for real.”
“Well, your answer should be no, simply on the grounds that he used Kooky Tookey’s kooky exercise to ask you out.” She made a pouty puppy-dog face. “Besides, you have to come to our gig on Saturday night. It’s our first real paid show and we need Dirty Deri there.”
Oh God, no. Dirty Deri was a one-time thing when I was going through a bad time right after my dad died. I was willing to go to their gig, but Dirty Deri was staying home, locked in a closet. “If I say yes to Steve, I’ll insist on going to watch you guys play. I just don’t know if I should say yes.”
“What is your Spidey-sense intuition telling you?”
“Nothing about boys. But some random girl is going to suffer a head injury, apparently.”
“Warn me if she’s Japanese. I have no problem rocking a helmet as an accessory.”
“She had blonde hair, so unless you have plans to bleach yours out, it wasn’t you.”
She leaned her back against the wall and crossed her arms as she considered my dilemma. “Do you like Steve?”
“I don’t know. He kind of talks a lot, but he’s really nice and smart. Apparently he plays on the tennis team.”
“And he got cute over the summer,” she pointed out.
“Yes, yes he did.” I contemplated. “But I want to focus on school. And I promised to help out at the Inn. I don’t really have time to date.”
“Deri, you need to at least kiss a boy before you go to college.”
“So, I should say yes?”
“Actually, I think you should wait and see if anything happens with Mason Cartwright.”
“Hardly.” An involuntary snort caught in my throat from the ridiculousness of that. I needed to crawl before I could qualify for the Olympics. “He’s sitting with Corrine and Paige already.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Tell Steve you’ll go out with him as friends so you can still leave your options open.” She patted me on the shoulder and l
eaned in to add, “And since he’s walking over here right now, I’ll leave you to that.”
My palms immediately got sweaty. Sophie left, and I slowly turned around to face Steve. I couldn’t exactly read his expression as he walked along the path with his hands in his pockets, but I assumed it was some variation of insulted. “Hey,” he said quietly once we were face to face.
“Hi. Sorry I had to run off after class.”
“No problem.” He looked into my eyes. “I was wondering —”
I cut him off, “Did you mean you want to go out Saturday night as friends?” I smiled enthusiastically, as if I loved the idea. “Or, did you mean you want to go out on Saturday night for a date?” I wrinkled my nose and angled my eyebrows together to imply I wasn’t quite ready for that idea, which was true, so wasn’t hard to produce.
He hesitated for a second before he said, “Friends. Maybe we could go to the party Sophie’s band is playing at.”
“Oh, okay, sure.”
“Great.” He smiled and handed me a key chain. “I know this is kind of lame, but I went to Arizona over the summer. There is this famous architect place there —”
“Taliesin West.”
“Yeah, the Frank Lloyd Wright school. My dad made me go with him for a tour. I remembered when we did that career day in grade eight, you said you wanted to be an architect. And I know you’re always sketching buildings, so I thought you might like it. The key chain is the logo or emblem or something.”
“Wow. Thanks.” I honestly was impressed that he remembered my interest in architecture and was thoughtful enough to get me a souvenir.
“I’m glad you’re back. Things weren’t the same when you weren’t here last year.”
Aw, he was being so sweet. “Thanks. It feels good to be home again.”
He shifted his weight a couple of times. “Okay, well, um, I have a tennis team meeting, so, I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Okay, I’ll see you around.”
He headed towards the gym, and I walked slowly back into the students’ lounge, still processing what just happened. A boy asked me out. A cute, smart, super-nice boy, who obviously doesn’t mind my geek side. I had never thought of Steve in that way, but then again, I had never really thought of any guy as more than a friend. If there were such a thing as romantically stunted, that was me. Dating was a foreign concept to me. Everything I knew about boys was either from Sophie, who started dating when we were twelve. Or from observing Trevor, who had a different pretty girl hanging around him monthly. I didn’t actually have any hands-on experience, but there was no reason why the new Derian couldn’t have a boyfriend if I wanted her to.
Sophie sat up with a hopeful look on her face as I approached the table. “So, do you have a date with Steve for Saturday night?”
“As friends. I made that clear, since I’m not at all prepared to jump head first into the deep end of dating.”
“Yes! I can’t wait to help you choose an outfit.” She grinned and clapped her hands in front of her face. “Ooh, let’s make this even more interesting,” she said in a calculated tone as she stood. Her chair scraped loudly as it slid out behind her.
My mouth literally fell open as she crossed the lounge and leaned her hands on the table Mason was seated at. She spoke directly to him, not even bothering to acknowledge Corrine and Paige. When she pointed her thumb back over her shoulder, Mason glanced at me and smiled. I considered diving under my table. Sophie stood up straight and flipped her long black hair over her shoulders. She shot a look at the girls at the table, but it didn’t appear she said anything to them. The last thing she did was gesture at Mason in a see-you-there kind of way and turned to strut back towards our table. I stopped looking at Mason. Mortified.
“God, he’s gorgeous,” she sighed as she sat back down beside me.
“I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You,” I hissed and made a point of articulating each murderess word slowly.
“I didn’t even mention you. I just told him about the band. And pointed out that it might be a good place to meet people, you know, since he’s new in town.”
I shook my head in utter opposition. “You are so dead. When did everything become about getting Derian a date? Let’s find a new topic. Music, genetically modified produce, world peace, or—”
“Ah, come on. If having two guys to choose from isn’t fun for you, it will at least be entertaining for me to watch.”
“I’m so glad my non-existent love life amuses you.”
“An existent love life would amuse me more, especially if it’s with two guys at once.”
“I don’t have the time, skill level, or experience to date one guy, let alone two. Fortunately, there’s more to life than boys. How about we focus on something other than me finding a mate?”
“I’m not suggesting you go boy crazy, but it won’t kill you to take your nose out of a book and get a little action. Guaranteed, your health-class textbook will back me up. Getting busy is a normal, healthy part of adolescent social development.” She leaned over and interrupted Doug and his incentive program friends in the middle of a debate about some political conflict. “College guys will prefer a woman who knows what she’s doing, right?”
“Yup,” he said, without even hesitating. Then it hit him that he probably should have thought about it before he responded. “Was that a trap?”
“Nope,” she reassured him and turned back to me. “See. Trust me, my little dating Padawan.”
Getting a little action, as she put it, just for the sake of gaining experience, honestly didn’t appeal to me. Being the only university student who had never been kissed, however, was not all that appealing either.
CHAPTER FOUR
The rest of the afternoon dragged because, as it turned out, not much had changed in the year I’d been gone. Same boring classes, same small-town teachers, and same shallow, immature classmates. After school, I walked across the grass to wait for Trevor. Since I didn’t have any homework to do and forgot to bring a book, I just sat on a bench next to the parking lot. The day hadn’t gone at all how I imagined it would go. A few people had welcomed me back. A few people had no idea who I was. Most people acted as if they hadn’t even noticed I’d been missing for a year. Not one person said anything about my dad. It wasn’t exactly bad, but it wasn’t what I expected either.
Twenty minutes passed before I realized Steve was one of the people playing tennis in the courts in front of me. When he finished his match, or game, or set—whichever it was, he walked over and sat beside me on the bench. “Do you need a ride?”
“No thanks. Trevor is picking me up after he finishes work.”
“Oh, is he your boyfriend or something?”
That was a first. People mistook him for my brother all the time, but nobody had ever asked if he was my boyfriend. “No. He’s my neighbour.”
“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“No. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I hope to.” He grinned and leaned in a little. “I’m going to set another intention. I’ll let you know how it turns out.”
Was he flirting? It felt like flirting, not that I was an expert. My face definitely flushed and my stomach felt weird. “Did you have a good practice?” I asked, to break the awkwardness.
“Yeah, I was killing it,” he joked. “Weren’t you watching?”
Not sure how to admit that although I’d stared right at the tennis courts the entire time, I was thinking about other things and not paying attention. I said, “Sure. You were awesome like, like, um. Who’s a famous tennis star?”
He laughed at my unsuccessful attempt to sound athletically hip. “I was awesome like Roger Federer. You can tell everyone you think that.”
“Roger Federer. I will, if I can remember his name.”
He smiled before he said, “Your hair is such a cool colour.”
I ran my hand over it self-consciously. “Brown?”
“In the sunshine it looks red and blonde and brown. It
’s really pretty.”
“Thank you.” I tucked it behind my ears. So bad at the flirting thing.
“For Saturday, I’ll pick you up at the Inn at eight, if that works for you.”
“Sure.” As I agreed, Trevor’s truck pulled up into the parking lot with Murphy—his impressively muscular best friend—in the passenger seat. Murphy was the same age as Trevor, but he looked older because he was so massive and shaved his head bald. They both volunteered for Search and Rescue, and Murphy was training to be a paramedic. Trevor laughed at something Murphy said. Then they both eyeballed Steve in a cautionary way as he said goodbye to me and walked past the truck towards the school gym.
“Hey Deri,” Trevor crooned in a mocking way as I slid in to the back seat.
“Hi. Hi Murph.”
Murphy nodded his greeting and said, “Welcome home, Deri. Everyone missed you last year.” He smacked Trevor’s shoulder, then turned in his seat and studied my face with a perplexed expression.
“What?” I frowned and leaned back against the seat.
“You look different.”
“Good different or bad different?”
“Well, that’s kind of a trick question. It’s not a bad different, but if I say it’s a good different, you’ll assume there was something wrong with how you looked before, which there wasn’t. So. Just different. Right, Trev?”
Ignoring the good-versus-bad debate, Trevor lifted his chin in the direction Steve had gone and asked, “What was that?”
“What was what?” I mumbled.
“It looked like maybe you were getting asked out on a date.”
Murphy seemed to enjoy the embarrassment that was probably evident from either the burning fuchsia cheeks, the sinking posture, or the slight groan. “We’re just friends,” I finally said to make them leave me alone.
