His eyes narrowed, sweeping the crowd of boys for a possible suspect. They all thankfully adverted their eyes.
“You’d tell me if one of them hurt you . . . wouldn’t you?” His words were gruff, but there was a tender side about Gunny that I'd suspected most people didn’t get to see. Perhaps he felt a sense of responsibility for me since he and my dad were friends—yet another reason, among many, I suspected for being placed in this class. Gunny wanted to keep an eye on me, and I was grateful for once someone cared.
“It wasn’t any of them. I just need to go. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He frowned, mulling my answer over a bit. “Alright, Hollyander, get out of here.”
I rushed away. Past the boys sparring, past Roland Vandenberg who saw without question how upset I was, and into the locker room. I grabbed my things and then ran all the way to my dorm room and locked the door behind me.
I threw myself on the bed and cried. How could I have misread that? I thought Antonio wanted to kiss me too. I heard him whispering it in my mind! I was so stupid. “How was I going to face him again?” I cried harder into my pillow.
Why would he care about me when he could have any girl he wanted—an older girl! Not some baby high school kid with a curfew, and . . . how’d he put it . . .? “A crush that will fade in a few weeks.”
I screamed into my pillow. This wasn’t like that. I’d had crushes before. At my last school, I’d had what I thought was the biggest crush ever on Joey St. John. He was blond, blue-eyed and beautiful, and a junior! My best friend Ashley and I used to go hang out at the beach and watch him surf on the weekends. I wouldn’t exactly say he didn’t know I existed . . . he did say sorry once when he ran into me on his way to class, knocking my books out of my arms. He even asked if I was okay, and helped me pick them up! Ashley said that was a sign of true affection. “No guy stops to help you unless they’re into you!” she’d said. Ah . . . Joey St. John . . .
I shook the thought away. This was different. This wasn’t a schoolgirl’s crush. I’d spent actual time with Antonio. He’d held my hand on a number of occasions. Like when he helped me off the grass and I gave him a cupcake. Or the time I’d tripped and fallen on my face while thinking about him; he’d helped me off the ground then too. Or just like now when he held my hand so that I could hear his thoughts better.
Wait a minute. He held my hand so I could hear his thoughts better? Why? What had he been trying to tell me before I freaked out and ran away? We’d been talking about Chad and the fact that he hadn’t been bothering me. That Antonio had told him to forget he ever saw me in such a “compromising position;” as Antonio so kindly put it. What had Antonio done to him? And what did it have to do with me being able to hear his thoughts?
The sound of knocking at the door drew me out of my reverie. I looked toward the source of the noise and frowned. “Go Away!”
“Evie it’s me!”
I sighed and rose from the bed. Iris wouldn’t leave me alone until she saw me. Iris was, if nothing else, persistent.
“I heard you were upset,” she pushed past me the moment the door cracked open.
“Won’t you come in?” I offered dryly, before swinging the door shut. “Who told you?”
“I saw Roland outside. He wanted to see you.”
“What? No! I don’t want to see anyone.” I planted myself firmly on the bed folding my arms. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“What happened? Roland said you started crying in class. Did you get hurt or something?” She eyed me carefully.
“Yeah, I got hurt.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
She patted my shoulder. “You’ll see. The more you practice, the less it’ll bother you. You just need to exercise more.”
“I don’t think more practice is what’s needed.” My tone was surly but Iris didn’t seem to notice. She was all smiles and encouraging pep talks today. Sometimes I really hated cheerful people.
“Well, you should go talk to him. I think he wants to ask you something.” Her expression was all knowing.
I glanced at the mirror on the wall. “I look like a mess. Tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow, if I’m still here.” I fell back on the bed, in a pit of despair.
“If you’re still here? Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Evie, you can’t go home! We’re just getting to be good friends!”
“Iris, you don’t understand. I’ve had the most embarrassing day ever–the most embarrassing week, actually. I just want to go and leave this place behind me.” I didn’t really, but I couldn’t see any alternative.
“Well, clean yourself up. It’s about to get better.” She took a Kleenex from the box on my nightstand and began blotting my face.
“Iris . . . what are you doing?” Her fingers were moving through my hair now, fluffing it.
She leaned back, admiring her handy-work, and smiled. “Okay, you're presentable now.” She took me by the hand and led me downstairs and out the doors.
“Iris, what are we . . . ” I stopped dead in my tracks. Roland was waiting outside beneath a tree. He leaned up against it casually, still wearing his shorts and tight-fitting shirt from P.E. He looked amazing. Why couldn’t that be Antonio waiting under the tree for me? Oh yeah. He thought I was an immature schoolgirl with a ten-minute crush.
“Iris, I’m going to kill you later,” I growled under my breath at her.
“No you won’t. You’ll be thanking me later. See ya!” She literally skipped off down the path.
“Evie!” Roland smiled brightly at the sight of me. The sight. That’s exactly what I was. I pinched my cheeks subtly, adding some color to my face. Hoping to shift the attention from my red eyes—as if.
“Hey Roland, what’s up?” I tried to sound remotely enthused. I don’t think I fooled him. He studied me carefully.
“I wanted to see you. Are . . . are you all right now? You were so upset earlier.”
Understatement of the year! I waved him off. “It’s no big deal. Really, I’m fine.” I flashed him one of my award-winning smiles.
“Good.” He grinned, taking a step closer. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
He fidgeted for a moment. His eyes for some reason not connecting with mine. “The spring dance is in three weeks, and I wondered if you’d like to go? With me?”
“Oh. Oh! Really?”
“You sound surprised?” He gave me a wry smile.
“Well, I just figured that I was the last girl any guy in this school would want to be seen with. Being that I crashed your P.E. class and all.”
“On the contrary, half the eleventh grade is pining for you. Do you have any idea how hot you look lifting weights?”
There was no need for artificial blush. I could feel the scarlet burn on my face. Why the heck couldn’t Antonio say something nice like that? I was glad Roland wasn’t able hear my thoughts. Sweet . . . privacy!
Unless of course you’re going with someone else?” His confidence wavered.
“Who else would I be going with?” I knew who I’d like to go with, but that wouldn’t happen in a million years. There was no way Antonio would be caught dead at a high school dance, especially with a Junior.
“Well, I thought maybe you and Antonio were . . . ” He didn’t need to finish. The suggestion was crystal—if only it was true!
“No. He’s just helping me in class, nothing more.” My words came out harsher than I’d meant. But Roland didn’t seem to notice. A smile overtook his face.
“So what do you say?” he asked.
“Sure. I’d like that.” My smile was genuine this time. I wasn’t going to let my earlier argument with Antonio ruin this moment. My first dance!
“I’ll see you around?” Before I could answer, Roland leaned over and kissed me quickly on the cheek. He took off toward The Kitchen, a little spring in his step.
I touched my face. I could still feel the kiss beneath my fingers. Roland was cu
te . . .
“Evie.”
I spun around. Antonio walked out from behind a tree. The same tree I’d wished he’d been under moments ago.
“What do you want?” My words were crisp and unfriendly. He didn’t deserve them and I knew it. It was my wounded pride speaking for me. I folded my arms across my chest, giving him a haughty look.
“We need to talk.” He stepped closer, the delicious scent of aftershave moving with him. Crap! He heard that. I took a step back for every one of his advances. He stopped. His eyes pleaded with mine for understanding I couldn’t give.
“Evie.” He reached out as if to touch me.
“Don’t.” I warned.
“Evie, please, don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not.” I lied. “It’s not your fault I’m a stupid little girl,” Or that you can read my private thoughts. Even though I hadn’t spoken the last part aloud, I knew he’d heard me. I could feel the tears building again, burning my eyes, and threatening to break free like a faulty dam. “I told you I’d be a waste of time,” I mocked, wiping away an escapee. “You should have never asked to train me.”
“You’re not stupid. I’d never say that. And you are not a waste of time.”
I half laughed. “Right.” Liar.
He threw his arms up in the air. An exasperated look hung heavy on his face. “I'm not lying!”
It was time to reclaim some dignity. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay? Let’s just forget about the whole thing?” I forced a small smile for good measure.
“Can you honestly do that?” I could hear the doubt in his voice.
Good question. I could hardly stand up straight when he looked at me the way he was looking at me right now. All I could think about was wrapping my arms around him and planting one on those luscious lips. I glanced his way, meeting a skeptical look. “Yes, I can do that.” I could pretend not to be interested in him.
“You can’t hide your feelings for me Evie, I wouldn’t want you to.”
“You stay out of my head!” I shouted angrily. “And I don’t have feelings for you!” I knew it was a lie the moment the words left my lips. So did Antonio. Damn him! I fisted my hands at my sides.
“My apologies.” His voice was low and sober. “I misunderstood. I underestimated your resolve.”
My hands began to shake a little as I stood there. I held them, trying to steady myself. I knew he could see right through me. My heart fluttered at our close proximity. I wanted more than anything for him to reach out and hold my face like he’d done earlier. To stare at me with that look of what I hoped was longing in his eyes. I shook my head, pushing the picture away. The picture he was undoubtedly watching himself.
Antonio took a step toward me, his hand reaching out once again. He looked as if he wanted the same thing.
I stepped back, putting my hands out to stop him. I didn’t need his sympathy. “I’ll meet you on the field at three?” The words had come out as more of a question, proof of my uneasiness.
Antonio nodded, the silence cutting deep. But honestly, what more could he say. His eyes spoke volumes. There was a heavy sadness in them. He probably felt bad for the pathetic display of emotion I was throwing at him; probably cursing himself for offering to help me with my training in the first place.
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat; and without another word, turned and hurried toward The Kitchen. The further away I got from Antonio’s mind reading, the better.
Chapter 10
Dinner was as to be expected: Iris was beaming. Her cunning ability to sneakily drag me downstairs where I received the ‘invitation of a lifetime’ was totally her doing.
“You can thank me. Come on . . . I know you want to.”
“Thank you, Iris.” I rolled my eyes at her, a slight smile escaping me.
“Ahahh! You must be so excited! How can you sit there and eat?” Gillian had just joined us. “The whole campus is buzzing about it.”
I eyed her with caution. I was afraid to ask what the “whole campus is buzzing about.”
As if sensing my confusion she added: “You and Roland . . . going . . . out . . . exclusively . . .” Gillian drew out each word as if savoring them.
“What? He asked me to the dance like . . . a minute ago. How did you find out so fast?” Too bad it wasn’t true. If only I had a ten-alarm crush on Roland instead of Antonio. Not that Roland was anything to sneeze at. He was super-cute. But he hadn’t stirred that something inside of me. That something that made my heart flutter. He also hadn’t made me feel like a child like Antonio had. Antonio. I growled mentally. I needed to push him out of my mind.
“Please,” Gillian continued, unaware that I’d drifted off to la-la land. “Nothing happens on this campus that I don‘t know about.” True. In the short time I’d been here, I’d quickly learned that Gillian was the eyes, ears, and nose of this place.
“I knew you had a reason for staying in sixth period P.E.” The sound of that voice . . . like nails on a chalkboard . . . I cringed. Stacy Wilcox and her witch squad were standing over me.
“It’s just a flippin’ dance. That’s all. We’re not ‘exclusive’.” I made little quotes in the air with my fingers. No doubt she’d heard that rumor as well. I stood up from the table to leave. I didn’t feel like listening to any of her crap tonight.
“Great. I suppose you’ll be at the after-party as well?” she glowered.
“What after-party?” I really hated feeling like Stacy knew more than me. She looked so smug.
“Oh please, Evie. Don’t pretend like you don’t know. Like you’re not planning on hanging out where you’re not wanted and wrecking my night.” Her haughty attitude was beyond just getting on my nerves. She may as well have been stomping up and down on them. The look of confusion on my face gave her more ammo. “The after-party at Chad’s you twit!”
Ohhh. That was so it. Stacy picked the wrong day to mess with me. I spied a busboy walking by with a half eaten plate of spaghetti . . .
“You idiot!” Stacy shrieked. The Kitchen erupted into a loud snicker. Stacy was standing with her arms extended, surveying her dress in horror. “It’s ruined! Absolutely ruined!”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I tripped!” The poor busboy looked like he was debating whether or not he should help her pick the spaghetti off her dress—he decided against it. The noodles had taken up permanent residence on her chest he knelt on the floor instead, retrieving the broken pieces of the plate.
“Oh Stacy, that’s too bad . . . and you were going to wear that to the dance, huh?” I didn’t even bother trying to conceal my happiness.
“Well, at least that ugly dress can be put out of its misery,” Gillian joked.
Stacy stormed out, leaving a trail of spaghetti and profanities behind her.
The girls hadn’t stopped laughing.
“Well, my work here is done.” I brushed my hands together, dusting them off. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”
On my way out, I passed by Roland’s table. I laughed to myself, remembering Gillian’s gossip about how he and I were “exclusive.” He caught my eye and winked. In an attempt to push Antonio farther from my mind, I stupidly opened my mouth and said the first thing that popped into my head: “Am I going to get a goodnight kiss?” I was totally joking. I mean, no way did I expect Roland to do what he did.
A look of shock and awe claimed him—not for long though. He jumped up; his chair skidded back into the table behind him. He had my face between his hands and his lips on mine faster than Gunny had slammed me to the floor. My guess, he’d been waiting for such an invitation—who knew?
My first kiss! If you could call it that, I wasn’t actually doing the kissing. I was in complete shock. His mouth moved over mine with such precision and skill. I stood there like a statue, unable to move or contribute.
I could hear the hooting and hollering from the gang around us. Even Gillian’s screech of excitement rang loud.
M
y lips responded, slowly, trying to mimic his. I knew that with the heat of his kiss and the way he pulled me closer to him, it was only a matter of time before they came to life. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events—I liked Roland?
He released my lips, but not his hold around me. A wide smile spread across his face.
I held onto him for support. I didn’t trust my legs at the moment. I stared at him, unable to speak. The eyes that I’m sure were still on us vanished. It was only the two of us standing there. My heart was pounding loudly, wildly. He had to hear it.
He dropped his arms and stepped back, his face still smiling at mine.
I must have still looked stunned because I heard Wyatt ask Victor if he thought I was all right.
“I’m just . . . gonna . . . go now,” I said, my voice sounding unusually high. “I’ll . . . see you later.” I gave Roland a small wave as I turned to leave, and tripped gracefully over a chair. The loud laughter behind me gave me the strength to keep walking, or staggering, depending on your point of view. I would never live this down.
The sky was darkening now. It was seven-thirty by the time I’d gotten back to my room. I really didn’t want to, especially since I’d just experienced my first kiss, but since my dad was basically incommunicado during the daylight hours, I decided it was time to give him a call. Besides, I needed to hit him up for a dress for the dance.
“Hey, Dad!” I was really happy to hear his voice. He actually sounded glad to hear mine too. Thank god he couldn’t see the still flushed cheeks I sported from Roland’s kiss.
“I’m better. I’ve made some new friends . . .”
George sounded unusually excited for me.
And now for the dreaded part: It’s common knowledge that fathers are fierce protectors when it comes to their daughters. It’s as if they’re admitting: I was a boy once. I know how they think. They are dangerous creatures and should be avoided at all costs. So, you can imagine that me asking if I could have a new dress, because some boy wanted to take me to the spring dance, would throw up a few of those dreaded flags. A barrage of questions came at me—my dad was a need-to-know every detail kind of guy!
Pinehurst: A Magical Olympian Adventure-Young Adult Romantic Adventure/Fantasy Novel Page 9
