by Sue Seabury
I did not eat these rejects, however. Between the pimples and the waistband of my jeans digging into my side, I needed to lay off the candy. Somehow I was going to have to find time to work some calisthenics into the schedule as well.
I decided to bring round #2 in to school on Friday to share with whomever, Diana, Hannah, even Kyle since they weren’t bad, they just weren’t up to snuff for my boyfriend.
My third attempt wasn’t a total success, but I was now officially out of time and whiskey, so I decided that truffles that were neither perfectly round, oval, square or any other recognizable shape had a certain rustic charm.
Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I brought the rejects to share too, but of course I couldn’t do that in math since Ned was there.
Although the chocolate-making had used up a lot of time, I still found a few minutes to create a smashing ensemble to wear out on our date. The base was my red crinkle sheath dress. Even though it had betrayed me on the first day of school when it got tucked into the back of my jeans and made me look like a strutting peacock, it is flattering to my skin tone and a classic for the holiday. I paired it with a multi-colored beaded knit shrug (some of the beads exactly match my new Caribbean blue eyes) and black parachute pants. After all the candy I had eaten, it was important to wear the most slimming color. Plus it was pretty chilly. If Ned was planning another outdoor picnic, I wanted to be prepared.
My hair wasn’t a great success, but it never is, and what with all the time I spent on the truffles and the outfit, I really didn’t have time to mess with it. I clamped on a chip clip and forgot about it.
Ned was clearly impressed with my attire. When he squeezed my hand, I felt full-body tingles in anticipation of the big event coming up in a mere six hours. Ned wasn’t dressed any special way, but that’s his style, forever casual, if not to say totally mismatched.
Sofagirl was watching us as I whispered sweet nothings in his ear. I made a remark about the creepy way she is always staring us with those giant eyes of hers. “Sofagirl is so skinny, maybe she is going to eat us up.” I giggled.
Ned pulled away a little. “Her name is Sophie.”
“Close enough,” I replied lightly.
He dropped my hand. He did not look amused.
I returned the glare. Why does he care so much about what the skinny little nun’s real name is?
He opened his mouth to say something but the bell interrupted him. It was imperative that neither of us got detention on such an important day as this.
“I have to get to class. You too,” I said pointedly. I really wanted to give him a squeeze on one cheek or a kiss on the other, but Sofagirl was still there. I had to settle for a sassy wink.
Ned nodded, but something told me he was not in the best of moods.
I hightailed it out of there so I wouldn’t get stuck walking to bio with Sofagirl.
There was a cute little fuzzy animal of indeterminate species holding a big heart waiting on my desk in biology. I did kind of wonder why Ned hadn’t given it directly to me since I had just seen him, but I was impressed by his effort and the appropriateness of leaving it in my bio class.
Feeling full of goodwill toward others, I broke out the second-rate chocolates and handed them out to everyone, even the kids I don’t like at all. Sofagirl snuck up behind me as I was distributing them. I generously held out the foil. She sniffed and hesitated. Some people have no manners.
Finally she selected the tiniest one and then proceeded to take a nibble so small it was hard to even see an indent on the thing. She winced but quickly composed her face. “Thank you,” she said with a heavy accent. It sounded French. She took another miniscule bite. “They are not bad, but the whiskey is a bit strong. I prefer Kirsch, cherry liqueur, you know?”
She pronounced it, “cheery” and the retort was on my tongue that I thought all alcohol made people feel cheery. I figured it out at the last second and merely smiled. Discreetly waiting until she had moved away, I pointed out the similarities between Sofagirl and a stick insect to Kyle. He would have shown better judgement if his laughter had been as soft as my whisper. She turned back to see what was so funny.
Unlike some picky people, Kyle seemed to really like the whiskey truffles. I was politely appreciative without being overly friendly. Diana thought they were really good too, although in my opinion she would have been better off stopping after three.
I glowed through the day, counting down the minutes left until 2:35 when we would be free to set off on our magical date adventure. It didn’t even phase me when Kyle showed up at my locker at the end of the day. He thanked me again for the truffles. I accepted his compliments distractedly and offered him the last few left of the seconds, while carefully shielding the good ones from view.
Kyle stood there humming about the chocolate, but my mind was humming away on a country road in Ned’s car. Then he asked how I liked the koala bear. I looked at him for the first time since he got there. His freckles really aren’t that noticeable, except the ones across his nose. Freckles on the bridge of the nose is an attractive look on a lot of people.
“You gave me that?”
Kyle nodded. A little smile was playing around the corners of his mouth as he cracked his invisible gum. He was very proud of having tricked me.
“Did you by chance also leave me the lollipop?”
The smile got bigger.
“And the card?”
He lowered his sunglasses so he could wink at me. Then he flicked them back into place, checked his shirt collar to make sure it was still in the upright position and leaned against the window sill, just waiting for the huzzahs of appreciation to start up.
If I could have found the word to describe my feelings at that moment, I was have said I was nonplussed.
But since I was so completely nonplussed, my brain wasn’t working and so I just stood there, speechless and unable even to continue packing the books into my bag. Kyle clicked his invisigum a few times and then came toward me again. He said, “So, happy Valentine’s Day.”
Suddenly his face was directly in front of mine. A big, wet, chocolaty smooch landed right on my lips.
I was so shocked, I kept my eyes open the whole time. It turns out, up close, he really does have a lot of freckles.
Since my vision was being blocked by Kyle’s freckles, I did not see Ned come loping around the corner at that precise moment. But as my ears were unimpeded, I heard him loud and clear. “What the -” and then, “You have got to be kidding me!” I shoved Kyle aside just in time to see Ned’s angry back making its way to the exit.
“Crap!” I shouted, shooting deadly eye darts at Kyle, who shrugged at me, all innocence.
I didn’t waste any more time on him. I seized Ned’s gift from my locker and ran after the person who had been my boyfriend until two seconds ago. “Ned, wait!”
He was moving fast and totally furious.
“Ned, wait. Please turn around and look at me.” I had to let go of the tin foil with one hand to grab his sleeve. The chocolates hit the floor. I hadn’t found any decent packaging materials and the flimsy tray crumpled under the weight. “Oh, no.”
Ned stopped for a second and looked at the mess on the ground.
“I made these, just for you!” I wailed, sounding completely pathetic.
One pair of angry eyes fastened on mine. “Oh, so was Kyle just taste-testing them then?”
I froze. Even though it was just a second-rate truffle, at a distance, no one would know that. “No, I had some leftovers...” I began in a small voice.
Ned snorted. “Well, now I guess you have a few more.” The door slammed behind him.
I wanted to chase after Ned and explain that it was all just a big misunderstanding. I also wanted to break down and have a huge tantrum in the hallway. I could have cheerfully screamed at Kyle so loud it would blow the freckles right off his face. And I would have liked to stomp all over the chocolates and deface the school w
ith them, if that were possible with soft candy. Although chocolate can be quite a challenge to remove from most fabrics, I think it comes off pretty easily from steel and linoleum.
It was perhaps due to the fact that there were so many things I wanted to do, I became utterly paralyzed and was unable to perform any of them. The trance lasted until the sound of teacher feet coming down the hall reached my ears. An ugly tweed skirt came into view. Mrs. Rochel.
Talk about one of the last people I wanted to run into at that particular moment.
“You poor dear. Let me help you with those.” I certainly wasn’t expecting any kindness out of her so I must have looked pretty pitiful. She leaned down to help me pick up the candy. “Is this one of the recipes you learned in my class?”
Then she sniffed. The friendly smile disappeared. She plucked one from the floor. It was headed for her nose.
Uh-oh.
That released me from my inertia. I slapped it out of her hand and grabbed up the rest of them as fast as I could.
“Jane. Let me see those.”
I took care of the matter by smashing the whole mess against my delicate, hand-wash-only dress. Getting chocolate out all those wrinkles is going to be a nightmare, but this is an emergency situation. Let her put her nose to my breast if she dares.
She didn’t try. Instead, Mrs. Rochel stood and straightened her too-tight skirt. I don’t know how anyone can gain weight eating the food she prepares. She said, “This discussion isn’t over, young lady.” She clunked down the hall on her chunky heels that didn’t even match her skirt. How can anyone not find a color to match tweed?
It registered in my mind that she was headed toward M. Waddell’s room, carrying a supperware bundt cake container. But since it looked like I was about to get suspended from school in addition to losing my boyfriend, I couldn’t find it in my heart to feel happy about this development.
Once she was gone, I let out a huge sob.
One sob. But that was all.
I managed to hold it together as I calmly plucked the rejected truffles off my body and placed them neatly back in the tin foil. Why I did that, I don’t know. It looked like a pile of dog crap now. I was so glad no one was there to see my alcohol-laced-looks-like-dog-doo-smeared dress.
Walking back down the hall, I prayed I had had the foresight to stash a spare shirt in my locker.
Instead, I found the only other person I did not want to see standing there.
I couldn’t believe it. Even though the killer eye darts had failed earlier, I gave my magic contacts another chance and attempted to vaporize him with a solid laser blast. I flared my eyes at him for all I was worth. Kyle didn’t get evaporated. He didn’t even move or say anything. I slapped the tinfoil down on the window sill and sifted through the junk in my locker. When I didn’t find a shirt (just three (?) socks and five scrunchies), I put on my coat to hide the embarrassment and started to gather my books.
Impervious-to-all-hints-Kyle was still standing there. He had the nerve to peel apart the crumpled foil. “Mmm,” he said. “Can I...?”
While it might have been fun to let him eat candy that had who-knows-what on it from the floor, I couldn’t stand the chipper tone of his voice. What did he think, that he deserved a reward for ruining my happiness forever?
I clawed the stinking goo from his hands and flung it at the nearest trash can. Amazing. It went in. Is that what’s missing in me? Does anger release some hormone that allows one to make accurate free throws?
“Go. Away.” I stated this loudly and clearly so there would be no ambiguity between us.
It worked. Kyle picked up his backpack and went.
Strange but true scientific fact: During mating, the female praying mantis eats her mate, starting with the head. This does not deter the male in any way. Indeed, his movements become more vigorous.
I gathered some random books. When they wouldn’t cooperate and go into my bag neatly, I nearly tore it to shreds. I sat down on the floor and tried to calm myself by counting backward from 100 by 13s. I was at -641 before I could even begin to think about my predicament.
I had missed the bus, of course. Which meant I had to call my mother and hope she could pick me up in less time than it would take me to walk home in my pointy granny boots.
I went to the only public telephone in the building because I could not deal with any sympathy from the office staff.
And there sat Kyle.
My heart stopped in a I-can’t-take-one-more-little-thing sort of way.
But my heart must be made of some tough stuff because I only had to figure out the square root of three to the thirty-seventh decimal place before I could ask him, in a reasonably calm voice, if he would move aside so that I could use the phone. He slid over without a word. As I put my coin in the slot, I willed myself to keep up the even tone as I spoke to my mother. Apparently, my voice was too soft. She asked me to repeat myself. Then Kyle had the nerve to start talking at the same time.
“Excuse me,” I said coldly. “But I am trying to make a private phone call.”
“Excuse me, but I said my mum can give you a lift,” Kyle said very politely.
My mother’s ear, which could not decipher her own daughter’s words even though they were spoken directly into the receiver, had no trouble hearing his offer. “Is that Kyle?” she said. “Tell him that would be lovely because really Janie it will be hard for me to leave right now.”
I hated it that she was imitating the way Kyle talks. And I really hate it when she calls me ‘Janie.’
Resistance was useless. A few icy words crossed my lips. It’s a shame that I don’t remember what I said, because I vowed they would be the last ones I would ever speak to that traitor. I hung up without saying goodbye.
To Kyle I said, “That will be lovely,” followed by a full showing of all my teeth to demonstrate what I really thought of his offer.
Next awkwardness: the silent minutes as we waited for Kyle’s mother. Fortunately, the urge to cry had passed and I was now just seething with rage.
“So, uh, he was pretty steamed, huh?” Kyle said.
My estimation of Kyle’s intelligence was dropping precipitously. Only an imbecile would bring that up right now. I turned on him with a fury that few had ever seen.
“What the hell is the matter with you?!”
Kyle should consider himself lucky the window didn’t shatter over him. The pitch and volume of my voice as I screeched that out even shocked me.
As my words echoed down the hall, it reminded me that I had recently asked myself the very same question and had not come up with any satisfactory answers.
“I’m sorry, Jane. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Kyle’s answer didn’t satisfy either. “You didn’t kiss me on purpose?! What happened? Did a meteor crash into the back of your head and propel your face into mine? Do my lips contain some magnetic property that I am unaware of?”
Kyle was balanced on the far edge of the bench. One more scream and he would fall right off.
I warmed up the vocal cords.
Kyle cut me off. “Well, the second one, sort of. But what I meant was, I didn’t know he was going to walk by at that exact instant.” For once he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. His eyes were open wide, as if trying to stare down a cobra.
Very slowly and cautiously, he scooted the rest of his butt back onto the bench. He must have decided I wasn’t going to strike him.
He might be wrong.
Kyle said to the floor, “I’ve been thinking about how to kiss you for a while.”
My blood was pounding from all the yelling, but now my fickle heart did a little skip. It has come to my attention that although the brain is often touted as the command center of the body, that many organs - my heart in particular - seem to be under some other control, possibly an alien intruder who seems intent on ruining my life.
Kyle continued, “I’m really sorry I screwed things up for you. I guess this means you wouldn’t consider goin
g out with me tonight?” He was still talking to the linoleum, but was also throwing occasional glances at me out of the corner of one eye, the greener one. His nose was wrinkled in an adorable manner.
“What?” I was going for pure outrage, but my unfaithful vocal chords cracked so I don’t think it came across. I was more definitive. “No. No, I absolutely will not go out with you tonight.” I crossed my arms and turned, deciding further eye contact was a bad idea. My blood pressure was high enough as it was. The idea of having a heart attack over this stupidity reminded me of Ned’s dad who had had a heart attack for similarly stupid reasons, and then I was back on the verge of tears again.
To stop that from happening, I got up and checked out the parking lot. It looked like a few flakes of snow were coming down, but it may have just been grit in my contacts.
“So when do you think your mum will get here so she can give me that lovely ride?”
Kyle followed me over to the window. He stood much closer than necessary. “I dunno. Soon, I guess.” He said it gently, even after I had spoken to him so sarcastically. It knocked out the last little pebble that was holding back the dam of tears.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I called out, practically running away. And, I should add, in the wrong direction.
When I finally found a girls’ room, I kicked the door open with a blow that would have wowed more than one ninja. After checking that all stalls were empty, I let it all out. I was a little afraid my shrieks would alert teachers, but I guess they clear out pretty quickly on Friday afternoon.
My violent emotional storm was mercifully brief. I had cried myself out in five minutes. I marveled that my contacts did not get washed away from the sheer volume of liquid. Those are some tough little bits of plastic.
I washed my face many times, and nearly did lose a lens doing that, but it didn’t help. My red, puffy eyes would tell all. I hoped that Kyle’s mum had come and gone.
I sat on the radiator, wondering if I had enough change to call my mom again when there was a knock at the door.
