by Sheri Duff
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I’m thankful for the bathroom attached to my room. It makes my morning ritual easier since I don’t have to share. Not that my morning ritual is a big deal. I even shower at night so I can sleep in longer.
I head downstairs way too early, not wanting to run into anyone in the kitchen. Alicia told me to make myself at home, but it’s weird going through her refrigerator. What if I take something that isn’t up for grabs? For breakfast, I grab a yogurt and a banana. I make sure and pick the fat-free blueberry because there are three of those.
I tiptoe to the garage, hoping to sneak away without being caught. I don’t want to talk to anyone. But Mr. Morales is still hanging up tools. “Good morning, Massie,” he says.
I jump. The yogurt drops, the top breaks and the insides splat across the floor. “Crap,” I say. “Sorry. I mean, good morning.” I stop talking. I don’t know what to call him. “Mr. Morales.”
“Going to school?” he asks. He grabs a dustpan and a cloth and sweeps the creamy mess into the black tray, then dumps it into the trash. He turns and digs into the garage refrigerator. He pulls out a regular raspberry yogurt. “Take this one. I stash the good ones out here so your dad doesn’t eat them all. I don’t like the fat-free stuff. Have a good day, hijita.”
I still want to know what this term hijita means, but I don’t ask. Instead, I make a mental note to look it up later. “You, too.”
I can’t get out of the garage and to school fast enough.
After I pull into the student parking lot but before I can maneuver my way out of my car, I find lead cheer Sidney Jacobson standing at my window staring at me. I stare back at her. She doesn’t move.
I roll down my window. “Can I help you?” She may intimidate most girls. Not me. I don’t care what club she belongs to or how popular she is or isn’t. I don’t want to be on the squad, so I’m good.
“I just want to make sure you’re aware, I like Jack.” Sidney doesn’t move her bony little ass out of my way.
I shove the door open, almost knocking her over. I don’t look to see her reaction. “I think the entire school’s aware.” I reach in the back seat for my backpack and poncho. The loose grey rayon piece goes over my head, and then I fling the pack over my shoulder. I shut the door with my butt before walking toward the building, head up and back straight.
“I don’t think you understand,” Sidney follows quickly, shaking her ass. Tiny steps. Tiny shakes. Irritating.
I don’t need this crap first thing, and especially not from Sidney. I stop. I move my backpack from my right to my left side, hoping she’ll stop shaking. “What is there to understand, Sidney? You like him. I get it.”
“Do you?” she stops.
I keep walking. “You like him and you want everyone to know he’s yours. I get it,” I say. Then I raise my hands up in the air like she’s got a gun pointing at my back and I’ve given up. Only thing is, I haven’t given up. I want her to shut up.
Tiny steps, tiny shakes, moving quickly trying to catch up with me. “I wanted to make sure we’re clear,” she says.
Oh, we’re clear, all right. She likes him. In her mind, Jack is off-limits. And Jack stays off-limits to everybody but Sidney until and only until Sidney tires of him. Even though I think he’s a little arrogant—and cute, even kind of adorable when he’s not being arrogant—there’s no way in hell Sidney Jacobson’s going to tell me what to do.
Sidney and I arrive at the entrance of the school at the same time. We’re not really together but it looks like it. I can see Jack on the other side of the glass door. Sidney rearranges herself, so I suspect she sees him too. Tiny steps, tiny shakes, perky boobs front and center. I wonder what kind of push-up bra she uses. It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t shove my stuff in front of any boy’s face, even if I had it to shove.
Jack notices us. He looks frightened. Sidney has that effect on people.
I push open the door, flip-flops flopping, backpack swinging, and my poncho on lopsided. It’s too late for me to care what I look like. Once I reach Jack, I grab his hand and pull him toward senior hall. “You owe me one, stud.”
He latches on and pulls me closer. “I think we’re even.” We round the corner. I let my hand soften so Jack can pull away. He doesn’t. Instead, his grip tightens.
“Trying to run off?” he asks.
“Queen of the squad is gone. My work here is done,” I say. “That is, unless you didn’t want her gone.”
Now Jack pulls me toward what must be his locker. He drops his books on the ground and turns the combination lock. “What if I wanna hold on to your hand?”
“I have cooties.”
He pushes my hand away, and then makes a face. “Girl cooties. I always forget about those.” He rummages through his locker, trades out books, and then nudges his locker door shut with his elbow. He slides his hand back in mine and winks. “I’ll take my chances.”
