This Girl Isn't Shy, She's Spectacular

by Nina Beck

  Samantha smiled. “I think I might like that.”

  “That is,” Justin said, raising his voice slightly, “unless you think we could be more than just friends?”

  Sam looked at him askew for a second before realizing that D had come to stand right behind her.

  “I’m not sure,” D cut in, holding a soda in one hand, “that you two should be friends.”

  “Aw,” Justin said, standing up and patting D roughly on the back, “don’t be jealous, Hammond.” He winked at Samantha and then walked away, leaving D scowling behind him. Samantha laughed at the easy way Justin played D right then. It was almost as if D was jealous. But that was silly…

  When Justin was out of earshot, D turned to Samantha. “I know he’s good-looking and very charming, but that kid is a complete scoundrel.”

  “Are you warning me away?”

  “No,” D said, flummoxed. “I mean, it’s up to you. I just…”

  Sam put her hand on D’s arm. “I understand.”

  D’s chest rose and lowered with a deep breath.

  “So, do you know where B-thirty-three is?” Samantha asked, taking her hand away and pulling out her schedule.

  “Yes.”

  Samantha stood, looked around, and waited. D stood and waited too.

  “Would you mind telling me where it is?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah…I can show you.”

  Sam smiled to herself, tipping her head so her short hair drifted to cover her face. Sam loved walking down the halls with him. She didn’t like the dirty looks the girls of Curtis Prep shot her way, but when D motioned for her to turn by placing his hand on her lower back…she felt it was worth it. He was worth it. She wanted to kiss him. The minute the thought entered her head she felt warm all over (in all the usual and some new surprising places). She thought about how shocked he’d be if she just pushed him up against the nearby lockers or the wrestling team’s trophy cabinet and kissed him.

  “Here it is,” he said, pausing by the door.

  She laughed nervously and practically dove through the door—embarassed by her thoughts—without even saying good-bye.

  D TRIES TO FIGURE OUT WHICH FRIENDS HE COULD LOSE

  D was standing with Riley outside the front steps of the school. D was pretending to be reading the community notice board posted outside of the brick-face building, while Riley tried to avoid a large woman walking down the sidewalk with three small dogs.

  “So what was up with you and Samantha this morning?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” D said. He leaned against the wall and looked down the street as a group of students filed out the front doors. He scanned the group for Samantha. Again.

  “She’s staying after to work on her writing sample,” Riley said.

  “I really don’t know what you mean.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “Fine. What do you think is going on?”

  Riley watched him carefully. “I have no idea or I wouldn’t be asking. But if she liked you—”

  “You think she likes me?” he said before he had a chance to gauge the excitement in his voice.

  Riley watched D, while he did his best to shrug in his most careless, uncaring way possible.

  “I mean…” He faltered. He didn’t know what to say.

  “She’s worked really hard to get into college, you know,” Riley said. “She needs to write a new sample, but she has it in her head that she needs to go to this one program or she won’t be happy.”

  “I understand that. I feel like I need NOT to go to this one program or I won’t be happy.”

  “You know, she has her own list…” Riley said softly.

  “Really?”

  Riley nodded. “Well, just be careful, OK?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” D asked, turning to face his best friend.

  “She’s just not used to…people like you.”

  “That’s great, Riley. Exactly what kind of person am I?”

  Riley stepped closer to D, put her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. “You’re amazing, D. You’re an amazing friend and a good guy—but you’re not exactly the poster child for good boyfriend behavior.”

  D wanted to protest—he felt vaguely annoyed that his best friend thought of him as such a “bad” person. But he figured that she probably had a point, so he kept his mouth shut and instead felt slightly depressed.

  Before D could respond she continued, “And maybe you need to figure your stuff out, you know? Because what happens if Samantha’s list conflicts with your own?”

  D blew out a deep breath and rocked his head back. Riley rubbed his back gently.

  “You know I love you, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I want you to be happy. I don’t think that you’d be happy knowing you hurt her for no reason.”

  “No.”

  “That’s all I’m saying,” Riley said. “I’m going home. Do you want to come?”

  “No, I’m going…” His voice trailed off as he looked down the street. He had nowhere to be and nowhere to go.

  “Call me later,” Riley said, waving.

  “Yeah, bye, sweetheart,” he said, while she walked off in the opposite direction, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Samantha had a list too? What was she trying to change about her life?

  Maybe her life was really horrible, or she really was like everyone else. Perhaps, D thought, if he got to know her, he would realize that she wasn’t that special. Yes, that was definitely the way to go.

  …And D went searching for Samantha.

  Twenty minutes later, D wished he had asked Riley where Samantha was hiding out because he felt like he had combed the entire school. He had started in the library’s computer lab, then went through the east and west wings, he checked the café, and even called her name into the girls’ bathrooms on both levels of the building. The only thing he knew for sure was that Curtis Prep was too big. And he was pretty sure that Samantha was invisible. At least to him.

  When he was about to give up, he decided to take another stroll through the library before going home, and that’s where he found her, in the rear of the stacks, bent over a MacBook and punching the keys.

  “I do boxing, but I guess that looks like a good way of working off some extra aggression,” he said, leaning over her.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, looking somewhat startled to see him. She leaned the screen down so he couldn’t see what she was writing, and after a second, relaxed and smiled at him.

  “Busy?”

  “Um, a little…I’m…”

  “Writing, Riley told me.”

  Samantha smiled and shrugged. “Trying to write, but right now I’d be having as much luck as if this were a punching bag.”

  “Not flowing, eh?”

  “Not at all,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “What are you doing here?”

  Good question, D thought. “I’m…I’m just trying to get a little studying done.”

  Samantha tilted her head and looked at him in a way that made him want to squirm. “I didn’t take you for the studying-in-the-library-after-school type.”

  “You got me. I was looking for you.”

  “I’d like to say that you are inhibiting my artistic process, but really, I’m like a dry well right now. So pull up a chair. Maybe you’ll inspire me,” she said, gesturing to a chair that was nearby.

  D pulled the chair over. He looked at the pile of papers that were strewn around Samantha’s cubby. “So you take this writing stuff really seriously, huh?”

  “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  D nodded.

  “How about you?” she asked. “What do you do?”

  “Oh, you know, I drink, I party, I woo women,” D said with a smirk.

  “I’ve heard.” Samantha looked disappointed by his answer, and D settled uneasily into the chair.

  “I guess I don’t really do anything.”

  “
Everyone does something,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” D said, shifting his feet. “I don’t really do much of anything. I hang out, I suppose.”

  Samantha sat quietly, observing him. He felt the need to fill the silence so he just kept talking. “When I’m alone, I like to play.”

  “Play?”

  “You know, like the piano.”

  “Really?” she said. “I didn’t take you for the piano-playing type either.”

  “Yes, well, that and studying in the library,” he said, with a self-deprecating laugh. This was not going as well as he had hoped, but then again, with Sam he never really knew what it was he was hoping for. So perhaps it was going well. “Actually, my mother taught me to play. She was a pianist, a pretty good one.”

  “She doesn’t play anymore?”

  “She died a few years ago,” D said.

  “Oh,” Samantha said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “No, it’s fine,” D said, wishing he had kept his big mouth shut. “It’s…Yeah. It’s whatever.”

  “So, you play.”

  “Not as much anymore, but I used to play all the time,” D said, thankful that she didn’t dwell on it. “That’s how Riley and I met. We took piano lessons with the same instructor. Her classes were before mine and we’d bump into each other all the time. We figured out that we were both motherless and, I dunno, I think she just tried to adopt me or something.”

  “Riley plays the piano?” Samantha asked. “I mean, the rest sounds like Riley, but piano?”

  “She definitely plays. Poorly. Very, very poorly. I think she might have figured out ‘Chopsticks’ before she turned to a more natural hobby.”

  Samantha just shot him a questioning look, so D filled in the answer with: “Shopping.”

  “Ah,” Samantha said, nodding. “Everyone is good at something.”

  “And Riley is a pro at shopping.”

  There was a weird silence for a couple of seconds, before D stood up and said, “Well, I have to get going.”

  “Oh, um, of course,” Samantha said, nodding.

  “I’ll let you get back to your writing.” He picked up his bag, flinging the strap over his shoulder and straightening it over his coat. “See you.” He turned to leave.

  “I’d like to hear you play sometime,” Sam said.

  D turned around to face her. “I’d like to read your writing sometime.”

  Sam smiled. “It’s a date.” When D smiled, she stuttered, “I mean, not a date-date, but like, we can do that. If you want. I mean…”

  “I want,” D said softly.

  “Yeah, me too,” Sam said, calm again.

  “Well…”

  “Absolutely!” Sam said. “Back to the grind!” she said, before twisting her face into a somewhat confused look. D laughed and walked away, hearing Sam mutter behind him, “Back to the grind?”

  She was cute, D decided. Too cute.

  #7 ASK A BOY OUT

  D wasn’t at Starbucks the next morning, and when he wasn’t at lunch either, Sam started to wonder if he was avoiding her. After their chat the afternoon before, Sam had thought there was more to D than other people realized. There was definitely more to him than Sam had realized, and she wanted to know more.

  Sam had decided that she was going to do number seven on her list: ask a boy out. She spent most of the night awake in bed, restless, thinking of ways that she could do it. Maybe in the morning over coffee she could ask if he had seen the new James Bond movie. What if he said no? Worse, what if he said yes? Samantha needed some sort of plan.

  Maybe if she just showed him she was interested, he’d take the hint and ask her out. He had asked for her number, after all, and that was when he didn’t even know her. Could it be that now that he had gotten to know her a little, he didn’t want to ask her out?

  “What are you thinking about? You look so serious,” Justin said. She still sat at D’s table, even though he wasn’t there. And while the rest of the table pretty much ignored her, Justin spent the entire lunch period trying to flirt with her while the girls rolled their eyes.

  “Nobody. I mean, nothing.”

  “Not very convincing, Samantha Owens,” Justin said, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. He was very good-looking. Samantha thought, Why don’t I feel even half of what I feel for D when I look at Justin? He seemed way more interested in her than D did…

  “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Writing, probably,” Sam answered.

  “Oh, a writer?” Justin asked.

  “A wannabe writer,” Sam corrected him.

  “Well, how about you let me take you out and we’ll find a good story for you to write?”

  Sam smiled politely and said, “I think that’s a bad idea, Justin. Wouldn’t that ruin our friendship?”

  He laughed and said, “OK, but I only take no the first time around. Next time I ask, I expect a completely different answer.” Then he dropped an apple on her bag and walked away.

  It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was really sweet.

  Later that afternoon, Riley went home with Samantha so they could watch reruns of Top Chef in Samantha’s den. Her father had cleared out, mumbling something under his breath but moving copies of books and other newspapers out of the way so the girls could splay themselves out on Samantha’s mother’s blue-checkered, oversized couches with cups of tea and low-fat cookies.

  “So, Justin asked me out today,” Samantha said.

  “Justin asked you out?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I think so. He asked me if I wanted to do—”

  “Yeah, yeah, he asked you out. I don’t distrust your interpretation of the events, I’m just surprised.”

  Samantha blushed furiously, embarrassed that Riley didn’t think someone as good-looking as Justin could be interested in her.

  “Yeah, I was a little surprised too,” she said.

  Riley looked confused and glanced at Samantha. “Why were you surprised?”

  “I mean, he’s…y’know…”

  “An absolute player who hasn’t ever asked anyone out in the history of my having known him?”

  “What?” Samantha asked.

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m surprised. I’ve never heard of him asking anyone out before.”

  “Oh,” Samantha said, and then she turned red for a different reason.

  “So, are you going to go out with him?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Then Riley gave her another sharp look before grabbing the remote and muting the television.

  “Hey, that was Top Chef! I wanted to watch that.”

  “Justin asks you out and you said…”

  “I said that I thought it was a bad idea.”

  “Were you playing hard to get?”

  “No, I think I was saying that I thought it was a bad idea.”

  “But you weren’t just saying that to play hard to get?”

  “No,” she said, trying to grab the remote back from Riley, but Riley had fast reflexes and quickly moved it away from Sam’s reach.

  “You said no.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you are crazy.”

  “Riley, I noticed. What’s your point?”

  “My point is that there is absolutely no reason to say no, I mean aside from the fact that he’s an outrageous flirt, but it would be fun! Just don’t sleep with him.”

  “Riley!”

  “Fine, sleep with him if you want…”

  “I don’t want!”

  “Then why are you yelling?” Riley asked casually.

  Samantha took a deep breath. “I’m not yelling. I’m simply saying that I’m not going to date Justin.”

  “Who are you going to date, then?”

  “What do you mean?” Samantha said.

  “Don’t play dumb with me!”

  “Who’s playing?”

  “Sam, if you�
��re waiting around for D to—”

  “I’m not waiting around for anything,” Sam said, grabbing the remote and turning the volume back up on the television.

  “Do you like him?”

  Sam took a really deep breath. “Is that weird?”

  “Why would it be weird?”

  “Because of your history with him,” Sam said. She turned the television off and looked around to see if anyone would overhear their conversation. Riley was looking at her with a very serious expression. At least serious for Riley.

  “Our history is just that, history,” Riley said. “I think that if you two have a chance at finding something like I found with Eric, you need to pursue it.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

  “Really.” The two girls smiled shyly at each other. “You should ask him to the Spring Fling; it’s in a few weeks.”

  Samantha turned a little pink. “Should I just wait for him to ask me?”

  “Waiting for a guy to do the asking is like waiting for world peace; sounds like a great idea—but who knows when it’ll actually happen.” Sam laughed and tossed a pillow at her friend, who grabbed it and tucked it under her arm. “I think you should ask him, Sam.”

  Sam didn’t want to ask him. She wanted to be asked, but she figured she could be the brave one. She could pick up the phone and dial him and just see if he already had a date to the dance. It wouldn’t be that difficult.

  But that was an hour ago, and she was still sitting on her bed staring at his number in her cell phone. And she hadn’t called yet.

  There was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Samantha called, tucking her cell phone under the pillow of her bed.

  “Hey, Sam?” Andrew said, peeking his head into her room.

  “Hi, Andy…I mean, Andrew. Come in,” she said, sitting up on her bed.

  “Uh, hey. So I have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  He looked really nervous standing there, shuffling his feet.

  “Is everything OK, Andrew?”

  “Yeah, everything is fine. It’s about a girl.”

  Samantha had a major “aw” moment. Her little brother had a girlfriend. She giggled, and Andrew’s eyes grew wide and he turned red. Apparently blushing was a family trait.