by RH Tucker
"What's up, man?" Matt opens the passenger side door to his car, a Lexus, that's parked next to mine.
“Nothing.”
"Come on." He gives me a look that I've seen before. A look that tells me he knows I'm lying. "You started acting weird at lunch, almost like you were nervous. And you were definitely not okay in there." He points back to the gym.
Staring down at the pavement, I debate with myself on whether or not to tell him. I don’t think he’ll laugh, or say anything stupid, but I still didn't know what's going on. I'll let him know if things start to get interesting. If I start to like this girl. I can't like her right now, can I? I didn't even know her name.
“Dude, it’s all good. Other than Jeremy acting a dick on the court, per usual.”
Matt lets out a laugh, but he still gives me a suspicious look. "Yeah, I can't believe he's still not over you being named the captain and not him."
"It's like whatever." I shrug it off. "Anyways, I'll see you back here in a couple of hours."
I give him a fist bump as he gives me one last wary look, before hitting my fist. “Yeah, sure.”
Sitting in my car, I pull out my phone. If I’m tripping this much over a few text messages, this isn’t worth it. I’m just going to delete the whole conversation and hope she doesn’t text me back. That’ll put an end to it.
Turning my phone on, a new text message alert pops up. I bite my lip, unsure what it's going to read.
Emerald22: No worries. And ur not getting my name, or any dates for that matter, until I get yours ;)
And there it is. My fear is gone, and I'm smiling as I re-read the text message. Who is this girl? My text didn't freak her out. Or maybe it did, but she's not letting on from the response. It had to be friendly, right? Even a little flirty? She could've ended it after ‘no worries', but she added the name thing. And the date thing. Something that she didn’t have to do. Okay, this wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Chapter 8
Emma
As soon as I read the text message, I hide it from Jen. She hounds me during lunch, asking what he wrote, but I can't show here. Especially with Micah and Lana sitting with us. A boy is putting it out there if I want to go out with him. And, of course, I react the way I always do. I turn into a big ball of nerves because I've put boys out of my mind. I don't need to get involved with any stupid games involving guys. But it's moments like these that make me wish I was as comfortable with guys as Jen is.
Last year, before my horrific double date, there was a guy that I thought was cute. Paxton. He was a senior, and we had art together. He had the bad-boy look, complete with leather bracelets, fingernails painted black, torn jeans, and hair hanging in front of his eyes; his bangs always a different color. He was thinner but still defined. I know, because when he'd reach up to help Ms. Hales rearrange frames or easels, I'd sneak a peek as his shirt lifted up. I had to keep myself from drooling on more than one occasion.
But, of course, I was pathetic. I'd been asked out precisely one time before that. I always kept my nose to the ground, consciously avoiding everyone. But at Jen's behest, I decided to put myself out there a little more starting my junior year. And I got noticed right away. I didn't like the first boy who asked me out, so even though I had no idea what was happening—he asked me at lunch, in front of everyone—I smiled and said, "Thanks, but I'm busy." My answer didn't seem to affect him very much, and I thought the way I handled it was entirely appropriate. Jen, on the other hand, scolded me for a week straight, saying how I should've at least gone out with him once. I didn't like him, but Paxton was a different story.
Then it happened. It was the day before winter break, and after art, he walked me to my next class. I was already having a mild panic-attack, even though I'd talked to him a little during class. But this wasn't class. He could've been anywhere, but he was next to me, asking me what kind of things I liked outside of school. Looking back on it, I was so lame. Someone asks you a question, and you answer, right? No big deal. But my stupid brain kept thinking Oh my God, Paxton's talking to me. Is he flirting with me? Should I flirt back? How do I flirt back? Should I touch his arm? No, wait, laugh at what he says.
Everything Jen had ever told me about how to ‘play the game' when going out with a boy flew through my mind. So, by the time we turned the corner, and I arrived at my next class, I just stood there, staring up at his gorgeous amber eyes.
“Emma?” he said, and I nodded with a huge, dumb, smile on my face. “Emma, did you hear what I said?”
“Oh.” I let out a soft giggle and touched his arm.
He looked down at my hand and then back at my face, confused. “Hey, are you okay?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, finally putting together the words he was saying.
“I just asked you out.”
“Oh!” I shouted, making some students around us turn and stare. “Oh.” Getting myself under control, I remembered Jen telling me you shouldn’t seem too anxious. I let out a very calm, “Yeah, that’d be cool.”
"Okay." He looked at me again, and though I didn't think it at the time, looking back on it, he was looking at me like I had escaped a mental institution.
He got my number, but I never heard from him the entire two weeks of winter break. When I got back to school, I didn't bring it up, and neither did he. He acted like I was just another classmate he was in art with.
So, even if a guy isn't asking me out, but just bringing up the possibility of me going out with him, I get totally flustered and don't know how to respond. So, I don't.
But that doesn't mean it isn't on my mind. I sit through my entire history class, trying to pay attention, but instead thinking of how to reply. I don't want to shut the door on him completely. He's the one who initiated texting again, asking where I sit for lunch. He's the one that brought up bringing me a soda. He's the one putting it out there. Even if I'm not ready to meet him and find out exactly who he was, I don't want to say no. But I have no idea what to say.
Even through art class, it's still scrambling my brain. We're doing life drawing and today is the ever-ready and always dependable, bowl of fruit, but I can't even focus on it. I tried sketching the bowl, the apples and pears, and it all looks like garbage. Or maybe's it's great, but I can't think straight. It's been nearly two hours, and I have no clue what to reply.
As I meet Jen at her car, she hounds me about the text message again, and I finally cave, showing her my phone.
"Oh, my God!" She reaches for the phone, but I keep a death lock on it. "He practically asked you out."
“I know!”
"No, Emma. This is a good thing. It can be like a blind date or something." She claps her hands, totally giddy.
“Jen, this is horrible!” She shoots me a frown. “You know how I am. You know what happened last year with Paxton. I’m no good at these things.”
"Well, fine." She lets out a huff, putting her keys in the ignition. "Tell him you're not interested then."
“But—“ I stop myself, but it's too late.
Jen's eyes jump to me, a newly excited grin on her lips. "You are interested!”
"I can't believe this. I don't even know the guy. But from these texts, he seems nice. Maybe I could be interested, but I have no clue how to react. I'm not like you; my brain turns to mush when it comes to this stuff."
Even though she pushes my buttons from time to time, and yeah, I want to strangle her on occasion, Jen knows my limits.
“Emma, calm down. Let me see your phone.” I shoot her a concerned look, the death lock still engaged on my phone. “I’ll put it out there for you.”
“No way!”
My phone chimes.
BigBaller27: Hey, sorry about that last message. I was just screwing around :/
“Oh, no.” I groan as I read the message to her.
“Wait, isn’t this what you wanted? He practically took it back.”
“That’s not what I wanted.” I let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, I don’t wan
t to go out on a date with him, right now. But maybe, I don’t know, in the future. I wanted to have that possibility.”
Jen's eyebrows scrunch together, and I can tell she's thinking of something. "Gimme your phone."
“No.”
“Emma, seriously. Just let me read the whole conversation. I promise I won’t reply unless you approve it.”
Giving her an unconvinced stare, I slowly hold my hand out. She reaches over to take my phone, but my fingers stay clasped around it. "You promise?"
“I promise.”
It's weird, watching her scroll through my messages. She nods a little, raising her eyebrows a couple of times as if she's digesting the conversation and coming up with a plan. I start fidgeting with my fingers, getting more anxious.
"Okay." She taps a finger to her lips. "He does come off kind of nice, when you read the whole thing in context."
“Okay?”
"So, I think he was serious. At lunch. But then you took forever to reply, so he freaked out. I would too if I threw something like that out there and the boy didn't reply."
“Not helping.”
“But, I don’t know if he really wanted to take it back. He just wanted to make sure you’re cool, you know?” I nod, her answer somehow making sense. “So, I’m gonna type—”
“No!” I lunge for my phone.
"Stop," she says with a laugh, keeping me at bay with one arm. "Listen, I'm going to type a reply, and I'm not going to send it unless you say it's okay. All right?"
I nervously chew on the inside of my lip, as I give her an uneasy nod of approval.
She begins typing and talking out loud as she does. "‘No worries. And you're not getting my name, or any dates for that matter,’” she emphasizes those words as she’s smiling, “‘until I get yours.’ And I’m adding a winky-smiley face.”
She turns the phone around, and I read it to myself. It sounds good. It's simple and friendly, but it's still a little flirty. I smile at her, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Good?” she asks.
“That’s perfect.”
“Okay.” She looks back at the phone, hits send, and hands it back to me. “There.”
“Jen, you’re a lifesaver.”
She laughs as she starts up her car. “Of course, I am. We should get those little two-way radios, that we can put in our ears. That way, when do you go out with Mystery Boy, I can help you.”
“Yeah.” I laugh with her, as we head out on the road.
That does sound like a good idea, and lord knows I could use as much of Jen's help as I can get, but there's a little piece inside that tells me I need to get it together. I haven't even met this guy, and I'm freaking out. I need to start playing it cool.
And then it hits me. I don't need to play anything. That's how I ended up like this in the first place, trying to play these stupid dating games. So, as we drive to my house, I decide. I'm going to be who I am. I'm not going to try and be flirty like Jen because that's not me. And if Big Baller doesn't like it, then it's his loss.
Of course, all those plans go out the window when I don't hear back from him for the next two hours. As I sit at home, I can't help but reach for my phone every five minutes, anticipating what he'll reply with. I try to distract myself with homework, but it's no use. I end up regularly checking my phone, then try to distract myself with the internet, before rechecking my phone. Until, finally, I get a reply.
BigBaller27: Well, then, we seem to be at an impasse. How do I know ur not some crazy chick who’ll stalk me, if I give u my name? :D
I take a deep breath, reminding myself just to be me. To treat him like a friend.
Emerald22: I could say the same about u lol
BigBaller27: Fair enough. We can still text though.
Emerald22: Yeah. Who knows when you’ll need another homework assignment :’)
BigBaller27: Or, u know… just to talk :)
I can’t help the warmth that spreads inside. Or the smile floating across my lips. I’m physically unable to stop it. He wants to talk. I realize that this could be the best thing possible. Do I like him? Maybe. But I don’t have to see him. I don’t have to try to be all flirty or play games. I can talk to him and do it through text. Yeah, some things get lost in translation with text messages, but for the most part, I can get to know him. And he can get to know me.
Emerald22: I’d like that :)
Chapter 9
Carter
I must look like an idiot as I’m driving home. I’m beaming. Absolutely beaming. I was so nervous before I sent the message about just talking. I have no idea who she is, what she looks like or sounds like. I don’t know if she’s tall or short. Is she curvy or stick thin? I have no freaking clue but exchanging the texts with her has lit something inside. I’d never thought I’d try getting to know someone without knowing what they looked like. Maybe this will be a good thing. And the way she comes across in her text messages, she seems like she’s cool.
After texting a little more, we set some ground rules. We aren't exchanging names, first of all. We can talk about our classes, but we aren't going to tell each other what period the class is, so we'll still have no idea when each other will be there. Also, we'll only do text messages. Prohibiting phone calls means we won't know what the other one sounds like.
The more rules we put down, the more I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm going to have to tell Matt about this, but I'm not sure how the others will react. Jeremy will bust my balls for sure, especially with Sarah always hanging over me. I push the thought from my mind because this is something entirely different. I can use something different.
I'm about to tell her I have to go because of my basketball game when I think better of it. She might be able to narrow down who I am if I tell her I'm on the team. I decide just to say I have to go, but I'll text her later.
When I get back to the gym, my mood has done a one-eighty, and Matt notices right away.
“Someone’s feeling better,” he says, as we change into our uniforms.
“I told you. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, right. Something was bothering you earlier.” He stares at me for a minute, letting his words hang in the air.
I look around the locker room, then back at Matt. “Okay, yeah, something was up. But it’s cool now. I’m good.”
“What was it?”
Matt’s my best friend. He has been for four years. If I had to guess which of my friends wouldn’t make a big deal out of what I’m doing, it would be him. But I’m not ready to tell him yet.
“It’s … complicated.”
“Dude, come on.” He gives me a pleading look.
“I’ll tell you, but not right now. It’s …” I think about it. Is it weird? I guess it is, but it’s also interesting. Different. “Unconventional.”
Matt raises an eyebrow. “Dude, are you–” he looks around at the locker room and then back at me, mouthing the word gay.
“What?” I scrunch my nose at him.
"I mean, it's cool if you are. I would never have guessed it. Though, now all the avoiding Sarah thing makes more sense."
“Dude, I’m not gay,” I say a little too loud and a teammate behind us, Franco, starts snickering. “Shut up, Franco.”
“Whatever,” he mumbles, continuing to laugh.
“Anyways.” I look back at Matt. “No, I’m not gay. And I’ve been ducking Sarah, because I’m over that, especially after that fiasco at homecoming. No, this new thing is different, that’s all.”
"Okay, you're way too secretive here. You gotta tell me."
"I will." I stand up, tucking in my jersey. "Later."
“Okay, boys.” Coach comes into the locker room and gathers us all around.
He goes on about remembering to stick to our game plan, which players to keep an eye out for, and everything that he usually goes over. Oceanview High School isn't a great team, but that doesn't mean they're going to be easy to beat. Our basketball team hasn't made the playoffs in three y
ears. But this year we've started out okay and have only lost to one team in our division, so we're hoping to keep up the strong play and shoot for the playoffs this year. Of course, that was the first half of the season, and in the second half, we have harder teams we were going to be facing.
By the time we get courtside, we’re all riled up and ready for the game. Our basketball team isn’t as good as our lacrosse team, and definitely not as good as our baseball team, and the crowd makes that obvious. We have some students in the stands, along with parents, and a few others, but it’s far from a ruckus crowd.
We get off to a hot start, and we're moving the ball around pretty good. By the end of the first quarter, we're up by seven points. Things get better in the second quarter, when we nearly double our score, and keep Oceanview to only nine points, increasing our lead by seventeen.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Jeremy shouts as we make our way to the locker room for halftime.
"Don't get cocky," I say, as he slings his arm over my shoulder.
“Dude, we got this!”
“No, Dixon’s right,” Coach says, stepping in front of us. “You’re playing solid defense. Moving the ball around great, but don’t let up. You may have a big lead now, but if you mess around, they will come back on us.”
Coach goes over a few plays we'll be running to start the third quarter before he head out back to the court. Things start out good, scoring a quick six points, but Oceanview begins mount come back.
Lucas drives to the hoop, trying to split between two defenders, but has the ball stolen. Jeremy chases them down, but he isn’t fast enough. Instead of letting the guy score, Jeremy fouls him, sending him to the free-throw line. They add another point, and now our seventeen-point lead is only a nine-point lead.
Coach calls a timeout, drawing up a play, as we prepare to get the ball back.
“You’re on your last foul,” I call over to Jeremy.
