Me, Just Different

Home > Other > Me, Just Different > Page 4
Me, Just Different Page 4

by Stephanie Morrill


  My eyes instantly scanned for signs of body damage. “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to make sure you saw this.” She stepped aside, gesturing to the front tire. “You parked in glass. Your tire is flat.”

  What a lousy, lousy night. “Of course it is.” I bent to examine it, as if I knew anything about cars.

  Abbie shrugged. “Just put the spare on.”

  “Great idea.” I pushed myself off the ground. “Do you know how to change a tire?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I would if I had a car.”

  “My son can change it for you,” the woman offered. She had a relaxing quality to her, as if she constantly soothed everyone around her.

  “That would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” She offered her hand. “I’m Amy, by the way.”

  “Skylar.”

  “Nice to meet you, Skylar.” She turned to Abbie, then waved at someone beyond us. “Here he is.”

  I turned to see Amy’s fabulous son who’d change my tire and get me on my way. Of course. I looked away from him, biting my lip to keep from screaming with frustration.

  “Skylar, this is my eldest, Connor, and his brother, Chris. Boys, this is Skylar and—oh dear, I haven’t asked your name yet.”

  Abbie smiled. “Abbie.”

  “Oh, I love the name Abbie.” Amy clasped her hands together. “I wanted to name a girl Abigail Amelia, after my two sisters, but I ended up with a houseful of boys. My other two are in the car.” Amy waved to the minivan parked several spots down. Out came a pair of auburn-headed boys. “That’s Cameron, my second grader, and Curtis, who’ll leave me this year to start kindergarten. Boys, this is Skylar and her sister, Abbie.”

  Curtis’s forehead creased. “They don’t look like sisters.” Amy gave him an adoring smile and smoothed his hair. “Not all brothers and sisters look as alike as the four of you. Now shake their hands and tell them how nice it is to meet them.”

  Cameron, an eight-year-old version of Connor, grinned as he stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a robust voice. I couldn’t help smiling when I saw his missing front teeth.

  A moment of silence followed, then Amy remembered why we’d met in the first place. “Oh, Connor, Skylar’s tire has gone flat. Would you mind changing it?”

  He caught my icy glare and shifted his weight. “Sure.”

  “See this front left one? She parked in glass.”

  Connor crouched beside the tire for a moment. “Where do you keep your jack?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have one, right?” he asked, brushing past me.

  I followed him to the back of the car. “I don’t know.”

  “Why would you drive without knowing if you have a jack?”

  “Because I’ve never changed a tire.”

  He took my keys and popped the trunk. “What about someone like me who’s changing your tire for you?”

  “What are you looking for?” I asked as he stared into my empty trunk.

  “Lots of drivers store handy items back here. A spare tire, a car jack, jumper cables.”

  “I don’t even know what jumper cables are.”

  Connor flinched, as if my ignorance personally wounded him. “You should get married young.”

  A sharp remark waited on my tongue, but then, like magic, Connor pulled up the floor of my trunk.

  I peered into the space Connor uncovered. “I didn’t know that was there.”

  “Well, no jack, but at least you have an inflated spare.” Connor tugged the tire from the car. “We can borrow my mom’s jack, but you really need to get one of your own. And jumper cables. And learn how to use them.”

  “Or I could call AAA, who won’t lecture me.”

  Connor smiled like I’d been joking, then strolled to the van, whistling. I stayed by the car, running my hand over the grooves of the spare tire, eavesdropping on Amy and Abbie. It was all small talk, what classes Abbie was in, her extracurriculars.

  “Hey.” Eli startled me. “I lost you in there. What’s going on?”

  I glanced from Eli to Connor, who had his back to us as he rummaged through the back of the minivan. “My tire’s flat because I parked on glass—”

  “Oh no. I bet Max or someone could change it for you.”

  Connor chose that moment to return, carrying a contraption I assumed was a jack, although it looked like too simple a tool to lift my car. “Hey, Eli.”

  “Connor’s changing the tire for me.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but the words came out too high.

  “I didn’t know you were still here,” Connor said. “You’re welcome to change her tire instead.”

  “Nah, that’s fine.” Eli’s arm snuck around my waist. “I need to get home. Thanks for helping out my girl.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Connor lifted the spare from the trunk. “Skylar, you’ll want to come up front with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to teach you how to do this.” When I hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Just call AAA next time.”

  I offered Eli a strained smile. “I guess I’m going to learn how to change a tire.”

  “Great,” he said with a squeeze of my waist. “Now if we’re driving somewhere and get a flat, you can take care of it.” He pulled me close and gave me a long good-bye kiss. “Call me when you get home.”

  It always frazzled me when Eli did this, but not in the way I wanted. When a guy like Eli kisses you, your body should react in some way—weak knees, a pounding heart, sweaty palms. I never had any of these.

  But these concerns could wait.

  I joined Connor and found Cameron already crouched beside him. “I’m learning how to change a tire too,” he said, his chest puffed out.

  For the next twenty minutes, Cameron and I observed Connor backing the car away from the glass, jacking it up, removing the tire, replacing it with the spare, and lowering the car.

  Connor grunted as he tightened the final bolt. “It’s easy, really. Once you’ve done it a couple times, you’ll have it down.”

  “I don’t intend to ever have to do this,” I said.

  He handed the jack to Cameron. “Put this back in the van for me, okay?”

  “He’s really cute,” I said as Cameron scampered away.

  My face warmed, as if I’d revealed some secret part of myself to Connor, but all he said was, “Most people say he looks just like me,” and then gestured to my damaged tire. “Grab that side and we’ll put this in the back. You should take it to your mechanic. They can probably patch it.”

  With the tire closed in the trunk, he stood there and looked at me. I knew I should say something. “I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Thanks for changing my tire.”

  Connor shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.” His tone made it clear that he didn’t like me any more than I liked him. Though standing near him, with the sunlight fading and his face sweaty from working on my car, I couldn’t remember why we didn’t get along. I evaluated him.

  “You’re a really nice guy.”

  This seemed to surprise Connor. “Thanks.” He smiled.

  And then it happened, that flurry of activity you get in your stomach when you like someone. Only I couldn’t like Connor. He was short and goofy and, most important of all, Jodi’s boyfriend.

  I needed to get out of there.

  Abbie and I thanked the Ross family again before climbing into the car.

  “Amy’s nice, isn’t she?” Abbie said, flipping through radio stations.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “They’re all really nice.”

  I thought of Connor bent over my tire, forehead lined with concentration. “Yeah.”

  Just nice. I had to remember that.

  4

  “So, I’ll just meet you at the car after school,” I said to Abbie as we neared the sophomore hallway.

  “I know the drill,” she
said, veering off.

  I stood there for a moment, watching her walk away. “Have a great day,” I said to myself.

  “Skylar!” one of my friends called from behind me.

  I groaned internally, then put on a smile and waved at Lisa and Alexis.

  “Can you believe we’re seniors?” Alexis said for at least the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours.

  Lisa sniffled, and as they joined me, I noticed her puffy eyes. “I can’t believe I’m starting my senior year without John. There should be, like, a law against breaking up with someone as the school year starts.”

  I fought off a jibe about them getting back together before Fall Ball. “Maybe it’s better this way. You get to start senior year free and clear.”

  “I don’t want to be free and clear.” Lisa leaned her weight on me as we meandered down the senior hall. “I want to be with John.”

  I looked over her head to Alexis, hoping she’d say something encouraging. Instead, she pointed down the hall. “That girl is wearing my shirt. I just bought it. Remember, Skylar? You were there.”

  “It was on the clearance rack,” I said.

  Alexis frowned. “So?”

  “So, you can’t buy something for four dollars and be surprised when every other girl is wearing one. They’re priced to move.”

  She gave the shirt one last wistful look. “But still . . .”

  “John bought this shirt for me. For my birthday last year.” Lisa raised her tear-filled eyes. “Remember?”

  Only because she reminded me every time she wore it.

  “Liven up, okay?” I said as we approached our lockers. “You can’t let John see you like this.”

  “What does it matter?” Lisa asked with a sigh, but she straightened up all the same.

  We heard Jodi’s laughter long before we turned the corner. We found Eli standing in front of our lockers, entertaining Jodi with a story. Her hand rested on his arm, and even though she had the courtesy to retract it when I arrived, I didn’t like that he’d allowed it to be there.

  “What’s so funny?” Alexis asked. She couldn’t stand being left out of anything.

  “Oh, Eli was just telling me the most hilarious stories about youth group last night.” Jodi looked at me. “It sounds so lame. How did you stand it?”

  “Just the games,” I said, surprised to feel protective. “Everything else was fun.”

  “What about circle time?” Eli tilted his head and said in an airy, Heather-like voice, “How can I be praying for you this week?”

  Jodi laughed again. “I hate that.”

  “People caring about you?” I muttered.

  “Adults pretending to be your friend,” Jodi said, her voice cool. “What’s with you today, Skylar?”

  I focused on adjusting my locker shelf. “Nothing.”

  “You’ve been acting really weird for the last couple weeks,” Jodi said. “I mean, since when are you defensive of church activities?”

  “I said the games were lame. How is that being defensive?” I turned to face her and found Connor had joined our group. “Oh. Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  They all watched us, as if Connor and I carried on some fascinating conversation. I averted my eyes and hitched my messenger bag onto my shoulder. “You ready, Eli?”

  “Sure.” His arm slipped around me. “Anyone else have American History first hour?”

  Everyone said no, and then Connor cleared his throat. “I do.”

  Again we looked at each other.

  “I’ll just meet you there,” he said.

  Jodi laughed and shook her head. “Don’t stick around here just to worship and adore me,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “My first class is on the other side of school, and I needed to leave like five minutes ago to make it on time.”

  Connor replied with a strained smile and then joined Eli and me on our short walk to American History.

  “So Skylar says she’s now an expert tire changer, thanks to you,” Eli said, sounding oddly cheerful.

  “Hmm,” Connor said.

  For some reason, this made Eli look at me and roll his eyes. I turned away.

  Mr. Huntley taught American History. As a former seventh grade teacher, he often ran class like it was middle school, so it wasn’t a surprise to find the desks arranged in groups of four rather than organized in rows. John already sat at a desk, and we joined him.

  “Is Lisa in this class?” John’s eyes darted between my face and the door, as if she might appear at any moment.

  “No, you’re safe.”

  He pushed his schedule across the table to me. “Tell me I don’t have any classes with her.”

  I skimmed it. “Advanced Bio.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I nodded and returned the paper to him. “It’s the only class she and I have together.”

  John groaned.

  “What’s the big deal?” Eli asked, seemingly irritated by his friend’s dramatic flair. “It’s just Lisa.”

  “Lisa said if she saw me today, she’d have to be restrained from clawing my eyes out.”

  “It’s just talk. That’s what girls do.”

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “Except for you, of course.” Eli flashed a smile, the magic one that sometimes worked even on me. When I returned the smile, he pressed his fingertips into the back of my neck. “There’s my girl. I wondered if I’d see you at all today.”

  “Was Lisa really mad?” John broke in.

  “She was sad,” I said. “I don’t think she understood your timing.”

  John gnawed at a nonexistent nail. “It just wasn’t working is all. We’ve tried, and we’re not good as a couple.”

  “You can’t help that, man.” Eli stretched his arm around my shoulders. “And there’s no good time to tell a girl that kind of stuff.”

  “Could I get a couple volunteers to pass out textbooks?” Mr. Huntley asked as the bell sounded. The hands of teacher’s-pet hopefuls shot into the air. Mine remained flat on my desk.

  After reading through the roster, Mr. Huntley dropped his glasses low on his nose and surveyed the room.

  “I suppose you’ve all noticed the seats are arranged in a manner conducive to group work. You’ll be working as teams quite a lot this year, and”—he looked around once more—“yes, this looks good. These will be your assigned seats.”

  Great. I glanced at Connor and caught him looking at me. He appeared just as thrilled to be stuck together.

  After class—and after Eli pecked my cheek good-bye, as if it would be much longer than third period before we saw each other again—I nearly collided with Connor in the hall.

  I weaved around him. “Great place to stand.”

  He followed me. “I think we should talk.”

  My heart raced. Last night, did he feel the same thing as me? That sharp burst of attraction? “What do we have to talk about?”

  “There’s a lot going on in your life right now, and—”

  I stopped to face him, and he scrambled back a few steps. “That is not something we’re going to discuss,” I said. “Not ever. Especially not here. You got it?”

  “Why do you assume I want to tell people what I overheard? It’s none of my business. I wish I didn’t even know.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “But the fact is I do know, and none of your friends seem to.”

  “Do you have a point?”

  Connor laughed, obviously amused. “I’m trying to tell you that if you want to talk I’m available, but I don’t know why I’m offering, because it’s obvious you don’t want to talk to me.” He turned and walked the opposite direction.

  “Connor!” Did I just call after him?

  He stopped and looked back. So now I needed to say something.

  “Thanks.” No reaction. “For the offer. It’s nice.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. “You’re a surprising girl, Skylar Hoyt.” He followed this with a salute
, then fell into step with the crowd.

  Most surprising of all—I meant what I said.

  That night, as Mom passed me the moo shoo pork, she said, “I met someone you know at the women’s brunch.”

  “Who would I know at the women’s brunch?”

  “Amy Ross, Cameron’s mother. I told her thank you for assisting with your tire.”

  It took me a couple seconds to realize she meant Connor. “You mean Connor’s mother.”

  “Oh, is Connor your age?” She looked at Abbie. “Cameron must be your age.”

  Abbie shook her head. “Chris.”

  Mom sighed, cutting into lemon chicken with her fork. “This is why parents shouldn’t do cute things like start their kids’ names with the same letter. It’s confusing. And surely it’s challenging for them as well. I’m forever mixing up your names, and they couldn’t be more different.”

  “Do we have soy sauce, Teri?” Dad asked.

  “In the pantry. The same place it always is.” While Mom’s words sounded pleasant enough, I caught her left eye twitching. I knew to look because mine did the same thing. One of Mom’s and my many similarities.

  Abbie, who had yet to understand these little speeches of Mom’s didn’t require a response, said, “Amy’s sisters are named Abigail and Amelia, so she must like having a similar name to her sisters.”

  “Hmm,” Mom said. “Well, they invited us over for dinner on Sunday, so don’t make any plans that evening.”

  “All of us have to go?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I stabbed at a spear of broccoli. “Even me?”

  Mom blinked at me. “What kind of a question is that? Of course you have to go.”

  “Skylar and Connor don’t get along,” Abbie said.

  Mom’s dark eyes accused me, as if she knew I was at fault. “Skylar, Connor Ross is a very nice young man. He fixed your tire, for heaven’s sake. There’s no reason you shouldn’t get along with him.”

  This seemed strange, considering she’d never met him.

  “We get along fine,” I said. “We’re just not friends.”

  “Well, I don’t see why not.”

  “Because she’s rude to him,” Abbie said.

  I shot a deadly glare across the table.

  “Oh, Skylar, we raised you better than this,” Mom said.

 

‹ Prev