by Liz Fichera
Her hands went to her hips. Her voice turned sharp. “You want to be a man? Well, then start acting like one, Samuel.”
I spread my arms, frustrated, my breath catching in the back of my throat like a tiny click. “How do I know what to do right if I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong?” I turned to the house, looking for Dad, just as the screen door snapped shut. In a softer voice, I said, “I don’t even remember how to talk to him anymore.” If I’d ever known at all.
“Oh, Sam,” Mom said, shaking her head. “You make things more complicated than they need to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You want to talk to him? Go talk to him.” She started walking toward the house again.
“I’ve tried, Mom. It’s impossible.” Whenever I tried to talk to Dad about school, about college, even about exams that I’d aced, he looked at me like I’d grown three heads. “Does he even care that I might get a full scholarship to USC, maybe even to Michigan?” I called after her.
Mom stopped again. “Why would you want to go way out to Michigan? All that crime and snow…”
I practically growled. Was she kidding? I’d go to Michigan in a heartbeat on a full scholarship.
“Of course your father cares,” Mom said, pursing her lips.
“Does he even know?”
“Well. Yes…” Mom’s voice trailed off. She looked toward the house again as if she were considering her answer.
“What am I doing that’s so wrong, Mom? Tell me. It’s like Dad would rather not even know me.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
She paused. But then she said, “You’re a smart kid. You two will have to figure it out.”
“Hey, Mr. Michigan,” Dad bellowed from the screen door.
I looked over at the house, completely surprised. I hadn’t expected to hear Dad’s voice for the rest of the day. “Yeah?”
“Feed Papago. Your sister won’t be home till late. And sweep out the stall, too. It needs it.” The screen door snapped shut again.
“Well, hello to you, too,” I muttered.
27
Riley
Since I’d given Sam his makeover, I figured I could use one, too. Practice what you preach, right?
I’d always wanted a few pink hair highlights and, I had to say, they’d turned out pretty cute. Subtle peekaboos only, not too many. Not enough for Mom to freak but enough to make me feel good, maybe even stand out a little for once in my life. For school, I decided on a black cotton jacket over my favorite pink tee and a pair of my favorite black jeans, the ones that rode low on my hips—lower than all my other pairs. The black jacket helped to hide my self-consciousness while adding some hipness at the same time. My pink-checkered Vans completed the outfit and made me wonder why I always went with my usual six conservative standby clothing options such as pencil skirts and white capris when I had a whole closet full of fun. Drew would be pleased with my choices. That was a given. She’d told me a million times that I had to spice up my wardrobe.
Concentrating in class on Tuesday became impossible, especially when I glanced at the clock in math so many times that Mr. Rainier finally said, “Miss Berenger, do you have a plane to catch?” which, of course, elicited all of the usual stifled giggles from people who were probably as bored as I was.
Little did Mr. Rainier or anyone know that before homeroom I had asked Fred to help me with an English paper. I’d known before she answered that she would say yes and, I hated to admit, her eagerness made me feel a little guilty for even asking, but only for a few seconds. I had my own agenda and I had to act quickly.
Lunch finally arrived.
At a perfectly centered cafeteria table, one with plenty of walk-by traffic, Drew sat to my left while Fred sat to my right. When he’d seen that Fred and I would have our noses buried in A Farewell to Arms, Ryan had ditched to have lunch at McDonald’s off-campus. Ryan hated any books that didn’t include space aliens or private detectives, so it was the perfect ruse to get rid of him for an hour. And, frankly, I was shocked our prime real-estate table was even available and I took it as a sign—another sign that everything I had been planning in my mind for Sam and Fred was meant to be.
At exactly 11:15 a.m., Sam walked into the cafeteria. I knew, because a hush fell over the room. Sam was A-list now and he didn’t even know it. I loved that about him. It was a rare quality in high school.
People were still whispering about him, mostly because they didn’t really know him. Sam was one of only a handful of Gila River natives attending Lone Butte. Unless you had them in class, you might not know them at all, apart from Fred. Because she was my brother’s girlfriend, and the first girl on the Lone Butte High School golf team—the girl who’d led the formerly losing team to win the state championship last fall—everybody knew her. Sam wasn’t a jock. He didn’t have a big mouth, and he never got into trouble. Of course no one had really noticed him.
Until now.
When Sam strolled through the doors, his black backpack nonchalantly threaded over his right shoulder, it was as if the seas parted. Students—girls, especially—stopped to gape. And I had to admit, he looked good—no, scratch that. Sam Tracy looked hot. His hair was perfectly disheveled. His clothes hugged his body a little better, and I noted that he’d layered his shirts exactly as I had instructed.
And there was no escaping those gorgeous dark eyes of his. They didn’t change. Now everyone was seeing the Sam that I saw. Sam’s gaze swept over the cafeteria as if the room were empty.
“Over here!” I called to him just as soon as everyone had gulped in a long, sweet drink of him.
Sam gave me the backward nod.
“Um. Wow. Is that Sam?” Fred said, staring at him.
“Yeah,” I answered with plenty of nonchalance myself. “Didn’t you ride in together this morning?” I asked her, even though I knew that my brother had picked her up this morning because I’d ridden with Drew.
“No,” Fred mumbled. “That was yesterday.”
“Oh,” I said, only to fill the silence as Fred faced forward, still looking a little stunned by Sam’s entrance.
“Is he helping you, too?” she said.
“No,” I said. “I just invited him to eat with us. That’s okay, right?”
“Oh,” she said again, except this time it came out like a little squeak. Her eyes dropped to the pages in front of her as if she’d just remembered why we were here.
I smiled to myself. But then I squeaked, too. And it had nothing to do with Sam. Jenna Gibbons and three of her friends suddenly stood over our table like a glossy Sephora shadow. “Hey, Riley. Hey, Fred,” Jenna said, as if we chatted all the time. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”
More like since junior high. “Hey?” I said, but it came out like a question.
“We’re dying to hear what happened on Saturday night, with the rescue and all. Are you okay?” Jenna’s eyes stayed focused on Sam as he crossed the cafeteria, even as she feigned concern for me. Reluctantly, her gaze dropped to mine. “You should come eat with us sometime,” Jenna said.
“Um. Okay?” I said, not sure what she expected me to say first. I hoped she was serious about her cafeteria table. Jay Hawkins usually lunched with Jenna’s friends. He’d been seeking me out during homeroom and study hall, ever since the leadership conference. This morning he was waiting for me at my locker. Not sure why, but I wasn’t complaining. Little did Jay know that I’d been secretly crushing on him since the first minute of my freshman year. I liked the idea of him, and sometimes that was all you could love about a person.
“And bring your friend,” Jenna added, glancing over her shoulder in Sam’s direction. She tried for nonchalance, but it wasn’t working. “What’s his story, anyway?”
“You mean Sam?” I wanted her to beg a little.
“Of course,” Jenna said, her glossy smile turning downward. Even frowning, she looked flawless a
nd beautiful. Predictably, her friends giggled. “Who did you think I meant?”
“Sam’s pretty busy these days, but I’ll see what I can do.” I was talking as if I were his publicist or something.
“Yeah. Whatever,” Jenna said, hardly deterred. “Do what you can,” she added, although from her tone, she fully expected compliance.
I didn’t like to admit it, but I admired her confidence. And I complied. “When we’re done here, we’ll stop by your table if there’s still time before the bell. I’ll introduce you to Sam.”
Jenna flashed her full-wattage smile. She’d known I’d come through for her. Who didn’t? “Thanks, Ri. See ya.”
Beside me, Fred stiffened. I wasn’t sure whether it was due to the close proximity of Jenna Gibbons and her sidekicks, their overpowering perfume or Sam’s suddenly burgeoning social status. Whatever it was, I had a feeling my plan was working.
Anxious to keep it going, I looked past Jenna for Sam, but he was gone.
28
Sam
I stormed into the cafeteria, looking for Riley.
Against my better judgment, I’d done exactly as she told me. I wore my clothes like she showed me. I even wore the damn body spray. Although they were my same old clothes, they itched. They tugged at me in new places. They felt too small, then too big. Everything felt all wrong on my body. Why had I listened to Pink Girl? Why had I let her call the shots? Why had I even let her cut my hair? I should have my head examined and it was time to end this, once and for all. It wasn’t right—least of all to Fred.
But the moment I stepped into the cafeteria, instead of Riley, I saw Fred. She was sitting at a table near the windows, the sun streaming behind her. It was as if time froze. All I could hear was my own heartbeat drumming against my temples. When our eyes met, Fred’s lips formed the perfect circle. Her smooth skin paled the tiniest of shades. For once, Fred Oday saw me, if only for the briefest of moments. For once, I knew how Ryan Berenger must feel whenever Fred’s gaze locked with his. I felt like maybe, just maybe, I had a chance with her. And I liked it.
Then Riley called my name, and the world started spinning out of control again. As I watched, she was ambushed by a flock of girls with glowing faces and shiny lips. I might have nodded at Riley. I might have said hey. I couldn’t remember.
Instead of walking straight toward Fred and Riley, I dodged for the cafeteria line, my heart beating a million confused miles a minute. Good thing I had an excuse to buy a dry cafeteria sandwich for once.
“Hey, Just Sam!” someone said as I reached across a stainless steel shelf for a turkey sub. I knew who belonged to the voice. I let out a heavy sigh, the same kind that Riley had been chiding me about, but I didn’t care. It was impossible for me not to sigh around Jay Hawkins, not to be completely exhausted by his lame jokes, his usual stupidity. It was impossible not to be anything but completely aggravated whenever he opened his mouth and I’d no doubt he preferred it that way.
“Glad you made it out of the rim in one piece.” I wished I could believe he cared about anyone but himself. Then he had to add, “How does it feel to be the big hero?” Great. Yet another thing Jay can resent me for. Add it to the list! He sidled up to me with his cafeteria tray. We’d barely spoken since freshman year. Suddenly he was talking to me like we rapped all the time. “Riley said it was a pretty scary night.” His eyebrows wiggled beneath his baseball cap and I kept sliding my tray along closer to the cashier.
“Riley says lots of things,” I said without looking at him
He chuckled darkly. “You’re not kidding.” I bristled. And I immediately wondered what else she’d been telling him.
“If you’d followed me, you wouldn’t have had to freeze your ass off on the edge of nowhere.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.” Just my luck, the lunch line was moving as slow as sludge and I had Jay Hawkins yapping in my left ear. I was tempted to abandon my tray.
“Anyway, I was wondering something….”
I stopped and turned to him. This ought to be good. Jay Hawkins? Wonder? I wasn’t sure his brain could handle the pressure. “And what’s that, Hawkins?” I hoped he noticed from my tone that I couldn’t have cared less what he wondered about.
“You’re not in to Riley or anything. Are you?”
I stopped. Then I swallowed, saying nothing. It bugged me that he said it like there was a better chance of an apocalypse right this very second than Riley and I together. I was tempted to rock his world. So I stayed quiet and then took a step closer to the cashier.
He knocked his plastic cafeteria tray against mine. “Well?”
I turned to him when it was obvious he wasn’t going to go away. “Why would you want to know?”
“I’m thinking of asking her out this weekend at my party. Maybe take her to prom.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I seriously did not want Riley going anywhere with Jay Hawkins. In fact, I wouldn’t wish any girl on Jay Hawkins, especially not Riley. “I don’t know” was all I said.
His crazy blue eyes squinted at me like I was an idiot, which I pretty much was with my answer. “You don’t know if you’re dating her? Or you don’t know if I should take her to prom?”
I cleared my throat. “You’ll have to ask Riley.” I really didn’t want him asking Riley anything, but what else could I say?
He gave his usual cocky reply. “I plan to. This weekend.” The smarmy tone returned to his voice. “You’re coming to my party, right, Just Sam?”
Jeez, he was so sluggable.
Fortunately the lunch lady saved me. “Next!” She waved me forward.
29
Riley
Convincing Sam to hang with me the next day after school was not as difficult as the first time.
“What’s next? Are you giving me a perm?” Sam chided me, but at least he was smirk-smiling when I informed him we’d need to meet again. I even showed him the list I’d prioritized in my notebook.
“Admit it. You’re in love with your new hairdo,” I said.
“Please don’t call it that.”
“Guys don’t say hairdo?”
“This guy doesn’t.”
I lifted a strand of his black hair and examined it. “Looks ten times better than before. Healthier, too. When was the last time you went to a stylist?”
“No more changes, Berenger. I can’t handle any more. I’m serious.”
“Never say never,” I said. “I never thought you’d wear the body spray.”
Instead of catching a ride back to Sam’s house with Ryan and Fred, Sam and I took the bus. The ride took forever. It was like crisscrossing the whole state instead of only going ten miles. “Now I remember why I never take public transportation,” I told Sam.
Sam turned toward the window. “Lucky you.” Then he turned back. “By the way, I saw your new BFF Jay Hawkins in the cafeteria today.”
“Jay?” I could barely control myself. He’d gotten into the habit of saving me a seat in homeroom and it had gotten to the point where my heart would race whenever I saw him. I couldn’t believe he finally realized I was alive.
“Yeah. You know, Jay Hawkins from the leadership conference. That phony guy with the smart-ass mouth who has mastered the fine art of people manipulation? That guy.”
“Stop it, Sam. You’re overexaggerating. You need to give him more of a chance. Jay’s a nice guy.”
“No, he’s not. But anyway…”
“But, what?”
“I think he likes you.”
I grabbed Sam’s forearm. “Really? What did he say?”
“I think you’ll find out this weekend at his party.”
I heard myself gasp. “Seriously?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. But, listen, Riley. The guy’s a jerk. Just be careful. Okay?”
I felt my face blush and I had to look away but whether it was from Sam’s concern or the fact that Jay had asked about me—again—I wasn’t ce
rtain. Probably a combination. “Thanks, Sam. That is so sweet.” It might also be the nicest thing a boy had ever said to me.
After the bus dropped us off, we had to walk a mile across the desert to reach Sam’s house. At least, it seemed like a mile. Better than yesterday or even the day before, but my leg still throbbed the more I walked.
“How are you holding up?” Sam asked me halfway into the walk. Thankfully he’d offered to carry my messenger bag, otherwise he might have had to leave me for dead next to a saguaro.
“You don’t want to know.” I pressed a hand against my leg and grimaced.
“You should have gone home after school, Riley. This was stupid.”
“No way. Time is ticking. We have much to do. You read my list on the bus. We need to strategize.”
“So you’ve reminded me. But you keep missing the part where I tell you I’m not comfortable with all of this.”
I stopped short, my arms slapping against my sides. “Did you happen to notice how Fred looked at you in the cafeteria today?”
Sam stopped, too, but he looked away, pretending to be entranced with a lizard scampering over a rock. I was learning that he employed the look-away trick whenever he knew that I was right. Very convenient.
“I practically had to pick her jaw up off the floor when you walked in! Admit it. My plan is starting to jell.”
Sam sighed, one of his long, woe-is-me, tortured ones.
“Enough with the sighing, Sam. I told you it isn’t attractive.”
He rolled his eyes.
I ignored him. “And when I told her I was going to your house again after school today, I swear I saw her right eyebrow shoot up.” I pointed to my eyebrow. “You know, like that.” I lifted my brow with my forefinger. “She does that when she’s not happy about something.”
“Maybe she was just surprised?”
“Pissed, more like it.”
“I seriously doubt that, Riley. Anyway, since when do you know Fred so well?”
I brought my hands to my hips. “Are you kidding me? She’s over at our house all the time. I have eyes.” I paused. “And I’m a pretty good listener, too.”
“You?” Sam’s eyes widened.
