by Sara Wolf
“Well strike me deaf, dumb, and blind. You even made it sound like me.”
“Hideous accent notwithstanding,” I correct, and sit opposite him.
“You don’t find my Louisiana accent charmin’?”
“I find nothing about you charming. Except for the prospect that you’ll leave me alone shortly.”
He shakes his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as he smiles.
“So. Whatdya think about the beach?”
“You can’t be serious.”
Ranik smirks at me over his breakfast burrito. “Dead serious.”
I adjust my glasses and glower at my chai latte and chocolate muffin.
“You’re interrupting my favorite meal of the day to tell me I have to come to the beach with you?”
“Breakfash iz your favorid mee?” Ranik says through a graceful mouthful of egg.
“Don’t change the subject,” I snap. “I can’t go to the beach with you.”
He swallows, green-gold eyes going wide. “Why not? It’s a lesson. And sunny Octobers don’t last forever, Princess. You’re gonna regret not goin’ when we’re stuck with rain and clouds twenty-four-seven.”
“I can’t go.” I repeat sternly.
“Uh, but you can.”
“I won’t go, then,” I snap. “I refuse to go.”
Ranik sighs and sits back, crumpling his burrito foil into a ball. “Never met a girl who hates the beach like you. Even the cute book-y ones like to read in the sand.”
“I like reading in the sand. I just…dislike the ocean.”
I hate swimming in front of boys, I mentally finish. Ranik raises an eyebrow.
“Why? You afraid someone’s gonna laugh at you in your swimsuit?”
I flinch, and Ranik sighs.
“Did some little cockhead make fun of you at the beach or somethin’?”
“No. And don’t say that word.”
“What word? Cock?”
I flush, hard. Ranik’s eyebrow goes even higher, and a smirk forms.
“Alright, fine. I’ll find another place for the lesson.”
His acceptance is so abrupt, I’m shocked.
“Aren’t you curious?” I ask. “Why I dislike it?”
“Yeah. But that’s your business. I hate pryin’ into other people’s business.”
“And I’m sure you hate other people prying into yours.”
He nods. I scoff.
“It’s hard to believe the criminally womanizing blackmailer Ranik Mason is a private person.”
“Why, my darlin’ little ice queen, what are you tryna say?” His eyes twinkle. “Doesn’t say nowhere in the rulebook a guy can’t be infamous and private at the same time. I play my cards close to my chest.”
“Close enough that you scared Mathers, certainly.”
“Mathers had it coming. He’s been hitting on the smarter girls since last year.”
“Ah, right. You’ve been here for years. I keep forgetting you’re a Junior. I blame the constant immaturity.”
Instead of looking hurt or offended like most boys do, Ranik laughs.
“Sure, princess. I’m the immature one.”
“Why are you laughing? It’s true.”
His gold-rimmed eyes fix on me, sharp jaw shadowed by the early-morning sun coming through the hall windows. “I’m not the one who can’t say cock without turning five shades of red.”
“I can say it. Penis,” I set my lip. “Penis penis penis.”
“Nah, penis is different from cock. Penis is science-y, so of course you can say it. Cock makes it less science-y soundin’ and more…real.” He smirks. “More dirty.”
“Dirtier,” I correct icily. Ranik leans in, face inches from my own. The heat from his skin is an unbearable blanket encompassing me.
“Well I’ll be damned. Is that a blush I see? Don’t tell me I’m getting to you, Princess. We ain’t even scratched the surface of sex-talk.”
“You aren’t getting to me. And I’m not so childish that I can’t say a single idiotic word aloud.”
“Then say it,” Ranik murmurs, voice suddenly deeper. “Right here. Right now. C’mon. Prove me wrong.”
I breathe deep and try to ignore the scent of cigarettes and pine trees that alluringly curls off his very being.
“C-C-” I open my mouth, then shut it quickly and bite my lip. Ranik’s smirk grows wide as he sits back.
“Just like I thought. You might pretend to be a hardass, but under all those smarts you’re pretty damn pure.”
“Pure?” I bristle. “I’m not a bottle of water. I’m a human being. I am exactly what I am.”
“Smart as hell. Defensive, because some people were jerks to you growing up, probably. Beautiful, but you’d die before you’d let someone call ya that, huh?”
My glare could cut diamonds, but it just makes him chuckle.
“So. No beach. Whatdya think about dinner, then?”
“What kind of dinner?”
“The kind where you eat food.”
“Ha ha,” I deadpan.
“There’s a place on fifteenth and Jersey street. It’s Italian but not, you know, fancy Italian. We can practice some date manners there, or whatever.”
“I’m well-versed in all table etiquette,” I sniff. He smacks his forehead.
“Yeah, I’m sure you are. But do you know how to make small talk with a guy that ain’t about the Amazon’s floriculture or how cold it is on the moon?”
“Negative one hundred and seventy three degree Celsius,” I say automatically. Ranik gives me a ‘see what I mean’ look. I sigh. “Alright, point taken. When do I meet you there?”
“Seven-thirty. Wear whatever you want. Just nothing secretary-ish, alright?”
“I don’t wear secretary-like things.”
“Princess, you’re wearing a blouse and skirt with a bun and glasses. You might as well be Pepper Potts.”
“Is that bad?”
“No, shit. It suits you. Just…it’s just not date wear, okay? It’s not what Theo’d like. Try a blouse. Colorful, if you got that.”
He stands up and throws his burrito wrapper at the trash. It makes a graceful arc and sinks dead in. He whoops, and someone shrieks. A golden blur attaches itself to Ranik’s arm, pursing its pink lips.
“That was such a good shot!” Kara, cheer captain and overall most wanted girl on campus, smiles with blinding white teeth and perfectly glossed lips at him.
“You were watching me all that time?” Ranik sniggers, tapping her on the nose playfully. “Naughty girl.”
I make a little gagging noise in the back of my throat. It catches Kara’s attention, and her dark eyes blaze with barely-concealed disdain.
“Excuse you,” She sniffs.
“Oh, don’t worry.” I pick up my latte and throw what’s left of my muffin away. “I’m excusing myself. I’d hate to get in the way of your stimulating conversation.”
Kara frowns harder, but behind her shoulder I see Ranik smirk bigger. He salutes me with two fingers off his forehead.
“I’ll see you later, Princess.”
As I walk away, Kara’s high-pitched voice pierces my ears.
“Princess? How come you call her Princess?”
I flinch. Princess is annoying. The way he insists on calling me it is annoying. But at least it’s better than Robot. Bitch. Know-it-All. Soulless.
I spot Theo walking across the quad, golden hair shining in the morning light, and a smile so bright on his face he’s practically his own walking sun. He sees me and waves, smile growing impossibly brighter. I soften at the edges, feeling my chest grow warm, and wave back. It’s then I see the girl at his side, the dark-haired, vibrant blur who quickly recaptures his attention with some joke that has him laughing in a millisecond. Grace. She’s wearing bright blues and purples today, all color and life and spontaneity. They walk across the lawn and disappear behind Harrow Building. It’s not until someone jostles into me do I realize I’ve frozen mid-stride, in the center
of the sidewalk.
“Shit, sorry,” A girl in a leather jacket coughs. Her cat-like green eyes take me in quickly, and dismiss me just as quickly. “Didn’t see you there. You blend right in.”
Her hair is bright pink. She stands out like a bubblegum star. Her smile is small and joking, but when she leaves I look down at my beige blouse and tan skirt. I’m the same color as the sidewalk, the buildings, the fountain.
I’m forgettable. I have no color. No life.
Robot.
I clench my fist and turn around.
***
Confession time; I ain’t never been on a date before.
But if anybody asks, and especially if Alice Wells asks, I’ve been on a hundred dates. A thousand. I’ve been on so many dates I make The Bachelor look like a clueless idiot.
The problem is, o’course, that isn’t true. I’ve never taken a single girl out on a date. The types of girls I attract aren’t that interested in bein’ wined and dined – they just wanna get straight to the fucking, and I’ve never had the heart to turn ‘em down. So dates are weird. New. I’m sitting here at the table thirty minutes early (thirty minutes? Jesus, dude) because I was so freakin’ nervous I forgot to look at the clock before I left my apartment. I showered and dressed and left thinking I was late, thinking Alice would be sittin’ here all alone and get fed up with me and leave.
I sigh and bury my head in my arms on the fancy tablecloth. I’m a mess.
It’s just a fuckin’ lesson. It’s a fake date. But still, I ain’t never been slow with anyone. And no one’s ever been slow with me. And it sure as hell shows. The waiter asked twice if I was feelin’ alright, and I lied through my teeth and said I was fine, but I ain’t fine. My skin is all white and my hands are clammy. But I can’t let it show. Alice is dependin’ on me to teach her right. So I’ll do what I’ve always done, what always gets me through life; fake it till I make it.
I’m so nervous I don’t even notice when I elbow my fork off the table until the waiter gives me a fresh one.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” I laugh.
“Are you waiting for someone?” The waiter smiles knowingly. He’s gotta be fiftyish, with graying hair and dignified posture. “You see nervous.”
“Yeah I’m –” I stop myself from saying ‘nervous as hell’. Saying it outloud makes it more true. I gotta pretend it ain’t true, and fast. “ – waiting for a friend.”
“She must be a very charming friend.”
I laugh. “You don’t know the half of it, buddy. She’s way out of my league.”
The waiter looks at my jiggling, nervous leg, and smiles. “I have something that might help, sir. One moment.”
He comes back with a drink, and eases it onto the table.
“It’s our first-date special,” he explains. “It’ll soothe your nerves and make conversation much easier, I promise.”
“Uh, it’s not a date, really, it’s…uh…” I give up explaining it and grin. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“Just a tip would be fine, sir.”
I laugh again. “Ain’t no one ever called me sir in my life.”
“You don’t come to restaurants often then, I assume?”
The guy’s voice is calm and gentle. He’s like the nice, supportive dad I never had.
“Not fancy ones like this. They ain’t really my style. I’m more trailer trash than caviar, if you get my drift.”
“You seem right at home here, sir.”
“Hah. Flattery will get ya everywhere,” I scoff, and take a drink. It’s nice and warm, and goes down smooth. Slowly, I can feel my muscles relaxing. “Hey, this is real good. Thanks.”
The waiter smiles and walks off to wait another table, and I wait alone. I don’t notice when I finish the drink, or when my leg stops jiggling, or even how much time passes, but I sure as hell notice when Alice walks in. Next to all the rich old women in dressuits and khaki, she glows like a youthful lighthouse – gold hair left down in a loose ponytail and her cheeks rosy pink. She doesn’t wear a dress, but a simple red blouse and a lacy skirt that’s adorable on her, and real different from what she wears normally. She looks uncomfortable in it, wincing awkwardly as the hostess leads her to my table.
“Hey,” I stand up instantly.
“Hello,” She murmurs. Unlike usual, she doesn’t meet my gaze. She looks everywhere but at me – the floor, the ceiling, her purse. I take a sec to absorb the sight of a completely different girl from the normal hardass ice queen.
“Can we sit down? My shoes are trying to kill me,” She asks.
“Sure,” I jump to pull her chair out for her. She finally shoots me a look, a smirk on her lips.
“Such politeness.”
“I’m only doing it because it’s what Theo’d do,” I grumble, but she laughs, the sound like tiny crystal bells, and I freeze.
“What?” She demands, laughter fading.
“That’s the first time - ” I sit down and put my napkin in my lap like Ma taught me. “ - I’ve heard you laugh all honest-like.”
“And it’ll be the last.” She grumbles, blushing.
“You look nice, by the way. Real adorable.”
Her blush deepens. “Don’t patronize me.”
“Lesson three,” I sigh. “When dudes compliment you, they ain’t patronizing you. They just mean it. Theo will compliment you lots, alright? Because he’s nice. So take ‘em nicely. Say thank you instead of gettin’ all defensive, if you want him to like you.”
Alice screws her face up. The waiter comes by and she orders salmon and a Shirley Temple.
“Shirley Temple?” I hold back a laugh. She does her best to look royally offended.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, it’s just –” I shoot a glance at the waiter. “It’s an awfully cute drink. I thought you’d get something mature, like ice tea.”
“I’ll have an ice tea, then,” She snaps.
“No, hey, it’s okay. Get what you want.”
“But Theo will think I’m immature if I order that.”
“Maybe. Maybe he’ll think it’s ‘quirky’, or whatever.”
The waiter looks between us. Alice settles on the Shirley Temple, and I order a marhgarita pizza. When he leaves, she glowers at me.
“So, I should take compliments? Is that the lesson?”
“Part of it, yeah. Let’s practice. I compliment you lots, and you take it gracefully. Or try to, anyway.”
She nibbles bread and waits, eyes wide like a rabbit’s in the headlights.
“You’re cute,” I start small. She flinches.
“I’m not.”
“Ah ah, c’mon now. Gracefully.”
“But I genuinely don’t think –”
She doesn’t have to finish her sentence for me to know what she’s gonna say. She don’t think she’s cute. For all her bravado and tough-acting, her self-esteem ain’t the greatest. Some people in her life got that into her head real good, probably during her teenage years.
Alice shreds the bread nervously, not even eatin’ it. She yelps as she nicks her own hand, and I quickly reach out and grab it.
“Hey. Hey, look at me, princess. Calm down, alright? I get it. S’hard to love yourself. I know that. But you can’t love someone else without loving yourself first. You can’t be there one hundred percent for another person unless you like yourself. It’s unfair to the person you love.”
Alice looks up, eyes locking with mine.
“You don’t wanna be unfair to Theo, right?” I ask quietly. She shakes her head, hard.
“No. Of course not. I want to be the best girlfriend possible for him. I’ll do anything to make him happy.”
There’s nothing but pure honesty and devotion in her tone. Sick, jealous static runs up and down my spine, and I fight the urge to squeeze her hand. I pull mine away, back to where it belongs, far away from her before it does anything stupid.
“You’re missing the point. You gotta be happy first. Then, if
he’s a halfway decent guy, he’ll see you happy and be happy, too. That’s how it works. You get happy off each other’s happiness.”
“For someone who’s never been in a serious relationship, you appear to have a lot of ideas about them.” She raises an eyebrow.
I take a sip of water to ease the sudden fist in my throat and shrug her words off casually.
“Just, you know. I see a lot of ‘em. I see what works and what doesn’t.”
Alice doesn’t look like she entirely believes me. She puts her napkin down and stands.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Down the hall and to the left,” Our waiter says, suddenly reappearing at our table with drinks.
“Thank you very much.” Alice smiles at him in gratitude, and leaves.
“Oh my,” Our waiter clucks his tongue when she’s gone. “She’s so beautiful, and awfully gracious. You’re a very lucky man, sir.”
The fist in my throat moves to my heart, clenching down on it hard. I force a grin.
“We ain’t together. She’s just a friend.”
The waiter nods sympathetically. “I understand. Here’s hoping she finds a gentleman worthy of her, then.”
I chug the rest of my water and slam the glass down a little too hard. The waiter says nothin’, filling up my glass and leaving just as Alice comes back. She looks better – refreshed.
“So,” she sips her Shirley Temple, smiling at the sweetness, and then frowning at me. “Let’s try it again.”
“The compliments?”
“Yes. Once more, if you please.”
She braces herself, gripping her drink and focusing with laser-precision into my eyes. It almost gets me nervous. This must be the concentration that gets her all those crazy A’s, and I’m gettin’ the full brunt of it. Her determination is almost…cute.
“You’re cute,” I throw it out there fast. “Real cute.”
She doesn’t move, blinking once but holdin’ strong. So I decide to up it a bit. I sit back and put on my best cocky smirk – the one that gets the panties flying.
“I look at you and I think; ‘Shit, what guy wouldn’t kill to have that cute little bird in their bed’?”
Her lips twist, but she keeps cool. I chuckle and pour my all into it – letting everythin’ I’ve thought about her for real spill out over my careful, professional dam.
